LITTLE OLD LADIES

Let’s hear it for the little old ladies, who smell so nice and cook so well and spin their tales of long experience on planet Earth. Kalch gives them a 21-gun salute in a curiously impassive voice, but one that can get sly quickly: “they never miss an opportunity to celebrate…anything! Who knows when they’ll get the chance again!” The text gets considerable souping-up when paired with her fruity illustrations of rubbery-faced old ladies doing the essential, which is getting on with their lives with a suitable measure of brio. They are out and about, gathering local news like accomplished espionage agents, enjoying an interlude with a secret admirer (in this case he’s crawling through the window with a flower in hand) and most of all radiating a benign wisdom, a gaggle of graybeards without the facial hair. And though Kalch tips her hat to them, she doesn’t mind sticking the occasional elbow in their delicate ribs: “Little old ladies often don’t sleep well at night, but they make up for it during the day.” (Picture book. 3-5)