Last spring, my brother gave me the cookbooks that our aunt left to him in her will. (Why did she leave them to him, you ask? He used to cook in a nice restaurant. In fact, he was a very good cook.)
Anyway, he gave them to me, saying that his wife had gone through them all and copied all the recipes she was interested in. They've been in two bins in my hallway ever since. I hadn't even really looked at them before now, other than to take out the two notebooks on top.
Last week I rearranged some of the books on my living room bookshelves and made room for the cookbooks.
The lower shelf holds my own collection of cookbooks. The upper shelf had almost enough room for the "new" ones, although I put three binders here:
The shelf isn't tall enough for them to stand upright, so they have to stand on their fronts.
Some of the "new" cookbooks had belonged to my grandma, others were bought by my aunt. There were a lot of surprises inside those bins.
For instance, I wonder if this book ...
is the same as this one that belonged to my mother?
And is this one, the Fanny Farmer Cookbook...
the same as this paperback I bought as a bride?
It's been chewed on by several puppies, and is literally falling apart from use. The recipes are obviously delicious. It would be nice to have one in better condition and throw away this tattered copy. I'll explore later and see if they are the same book.
And phooey, she had a Vitamix and I didn't inherit it. LOL
Now that the cookbooks are on a shelf, I have two empty bins.
I'm sure they won't be empty for too long though. No, I won't keep the cats in them.