I've never been a collector, unless you count my 20 or so bottles of oddly colored nail polish (purple, turquoise, green, gold, and numerous shades of my favorite color - pink - which usually get a coat of sparkles, too). People who love me do so for reasons other than my housekeeping skills - there are so many more interesting things to do in life than to mop or to wash walls! - so I loathe any knicky-knacky things that demand dusting. I have neither enough space nor enough of the really critical ingredient - money! - to collect Vermeers. But I've acquired, mostly as gifts and prizes, more than 90 cookbooks; and I've developed a habit lately of adding to that assortment every time I find something particularly intriguing or idiosyncratic.

I hit the proverbial mother lode on Saturday at Stone High School, which holds a very special place in my heart after Jeremy received much love and care and attention from its staff for three years. They hold rummage sales every April and October, and I always make a point of shopping there. Given the school's small size and its demographics, one would think there would be paltry offerings ... but one would be wrong. And this past weekend, I found the largest assortment of goodies I've seen yet.

After chit-chatting with the staff who gave up part of a weekend to work at the fundraiser, Jeremy and I started to peruse the Christmas table (finding a couple of shiny/sparkly new ornaments that will be hung in a sunny window for year-round happifying of my kitchen), the clothing (my new tie-dyed tank top is just begging for a warm day!), the cookware (the wok in impeccable condition will be perfect for a stir fry with Jeremy's fabulous newly created bbq sauce), and the musical instruments (finding a Harmony acoustic guitar that Jeremy later found out through research is more than 35 years old). But inevitably, the girl with the English degree ends up in the book corner despite not even having enough time to finish any of the library books she's been renewing and renewing and renewing ....

And then, I found it - the cookbook box. A Weight Watchers cookbook, a couple of books devoted to holiday treats and crafts, and old cookbooks which looked to be at least my age if not older. And those are the ones I now find myself collecting - old, antiquated, quirky, one-of-a-kind, family heirloom, whatever ... if it's something unique, it seems to be begging me to give it a good home. So I do.

One of the new family members is The Happy Pixies' Cookbook: Kitchen Fun for Little Cooks, which is A Hallmark Play-Time Book. Its introduction is very sweet: "We are the Happy Pixies and, while you may never have seen us, when night falls and you are tucked in bed we come out to dance and play .... We cook lots of good things to eat, and we exchange recipes with our forest friends, who are very, very good cooks. Now for the first time we can tell you how to make our favorite forest dishes .... While you are cooking (though you may not see us) we will be watching and helping you when we can." There are a few little cut-out cabinet doors to open, and lots of cute illustrations. The recipes are for simple things like chocolate milk, baked s'mores, and hamburgers. But my favorite is for Quacky Duck's "Tea Party Fancy": a peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut into shapes ... taking the everyday pb&j and elevating it to tea party food!

Another charming one is Mary Alden's Cook Book for Children: Easy Step-by-Step Picture Recipes in Full Color, from 1955. It offers "The Eight Steps to the Clean Kitchen Cook Diploma," as well as "Kitchen Safety Rules" and instructions on "How to Set Your Table." And then we move on to the recipes - "Quick As a Blink Frosting for Daddy Cake," "Pink Frosting for a Mommy Cake," and "Dreamy Creamed Peas," which calls for a #2 can of peas (that phrasing is "before my time," as they say, but it translates to a 20-ounce can) and a can of Cream of Celery soup. Every step is illustrated, with drawings featuring milk bottles and egg beaters (not the yellow-colored egg white stuff, either, but the hand-powered precursor to electric mixers). And there is even an alarming little jumping water droplet to accompany the instruction "Heat (the griddle) till few drops of water dance on it."

But, as always, there is a special treasure among the rare finds; and this time, it is Recipes for Discriminating Tastes. It appears to be many, many decades old, though there is no publication information in it. There are typed pages with a variety of recipes, from the simple to the complicated, from cocktails to desserts, from the mundane to the exotic. And it is such an exquisite find that I can't simply offer quick tidbits here; there are mysteries to be solved, with hints of clues tossed here and there. I think it might be a do-it-yourself kit, perhaps given as a gift to a new bride? She appears to be British, from her knowledge of uniquely English products to her spelling of "centre." And there are very quaint recipes, such as this one:

Take large potato chips and Kraft's yellow Cheddar cheese. Place slices of cheese on potato chips and put in pan. Heat quickly under flame until cheese is melted. Watch carefully as potato chips burn very quickly. Serve immediately.

With so much more to discover in this last book, at this point I am going to leave you with a cliff-hanger and say "Stay tuned 'til Thursday" -- same Bat-Time, same Bat-Channel!

Mary Bilyeu has won or placed in more than 60 cooking contests and writes about her adventures as she tries to win prizes, feeds hungry teenagers and other loved ones and generally just has fun in the kitchen. The phrase "You Should Only Be Happy" (written in Hebrew on the stone pictured next to the blog's title) comes from Deuteronomy 16:15 and is a wish for all her readers as they cook along with her ... may you always be happy here. You can contact Mary at yentamary@gmail.com or follow her on Twitter (twitter.com/foodfloozie). And look for her new food blog: foodfloozie.blogspot.com.