and preventing my spending time on social media:
Stuff. I'm doing stuff.
I'm mid-project, this weekend, scanning another ancient cookbook,
including the handwritten notes
and the few other bits of ephemera stuffed inside it, to save it all for posterity. Well, it's probably ancient – by the date of a couple of the things inside, it's at least 85 years old, and possibly a decade or more older. This copy has no title/copyright page, and I can't find any listings for it anywhere else online, so all I really have is a handful of hopes and assumptions to go along with my spiffy little two-ring-binder book, in all its bits and pieces. My greatest hope is that the club which compiled and edited this book has either allowed the copyright to lapse, or will have no objections to my sharing its historic contents. My main assumption is that, even if that's not the case, it'll be – at most – a decade and a half until it automatically falls into public domain, and then the copyright information will be of no concern, anyway, and I'll just set my pages to repost on the first day of AD 2037 (in case the internet is still a thing, then). Because it's too neato a compilation not to have everybody look at it.
The bad news about my copy is, due to age and the corrosion of metal in the spine, the cloth that bound the hard cover together gave up its last six threads as I opened it up, this week.
The good news is, I can fit the front and back covers into pockets on the outside of my acid-free 7"x9" three-ring-binder notebooks, and the pages are getting individual sleeves inside said notebooks, so they're protected from any further abuse. I'm not sure how to preserve what's left of the spine and its mechanism alongside all the rest, but I think, with time, I'll figure something out – probably involving lucite, hot glue, hinges, and a few good, old-fashioned, monosyllabic expressions from the pre-Saxon Angles…
And then, once I finish adding it to my digital library, I'll see about finding a good, loving home for the original pieces.
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