Month: May 2021

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It’s Memorial Day! What Are You Reading? (May 31, 2021)

Good morning, and happy holiday Monday to my friends in the U.S.! How are you remembering and celebrating today? Not to mention enjoying the unofficial kickoff to summer? Unfortunately, this particular kickoff to summer has been grey, rainy, and cool – a far cry from last weekend’s 95 degree weather and burning hot beach sand. On Saturday, we woke up to driving rain; we spent the morning huddled in the house and only got out for errands in the afternoon. Nugget accompanied me to pick up a tent I’d ordered at REI; I had selected curbside pickup, but we ended up going into the store, which was a mistake. Nugget invariably wants everything at REI, and I can’t resist his little face, and also I want everything at REI too. So instead of camp mattresses for the kids – what I intended to find in-store – we came home with water bottles, Smartwool socks, a conversation starter game, and a new bike helmet (which he did actually need – his old one was getting to be too small). Whoops.

Sunday was grey and chilly too, but I couldn’t face another indoor day, so Nugget and I threw his bike in the trunk and went to test out his new helmet at one of the local elementary schools. (Daddy and Peanut were content to have another couch day.) Nugget decided it would be fun to ride around the bases on his tee-ball practice field, and also found a hill to careen down. We spent about two hours playing hopscotch and basketball, exploring a nature trail on the school grounds, and tearing around the baseball fields on two wheels (Nugget) and two feet (me). And then we came home and Nugget threw a tantrum because I wouldn’t let him eat an ENTIRE full-sized Hershey bar. I’m so mean. (Can’t win ’em all…)

Reading. Bit of a slow reading week. I was navigating a stressful situation all week, and it put me off my books a bit. Finished up the latest installment in Maisie Dobbs’ adventures on Monday, but spent most of the week unable to read more than a few pages of Majesty at a time. Eventually, I did knock it off, and the weekend was given over to E. H. Shepard’s memoirs Drawn from Memory and Drawn from Life, which have been on my TBR for ages. They’re peppered with illustrations in Shepard’s signature charming style, and I am loving them. Next up will be something off my library stack, but exactly what remains to be seen.

Watching. Who has two thumbs and a seven day trial subscription to BritBox? THIS girl. Turns out, all that was necessary to get Steve to finally dive in was finding out that Nigellissima is available. Boys. We watched an episode and a half on Sunday evening, then Nugget asked to go to bed. I tucked him in and rubbed his back until he dropped off, then came downstairs to find Steve and Peanut asleep on the couch, with Nigella still cooking onscreen. When your watching companions are asleep (literally snoring) there is only one thing to do: stealthily switch over to Marple. Steve woke up midway through “The Body in the Library: Part I” and was quite confused. Rest of the week, we watched more NatGeo shows on Disney+… lots of wildcats this week.

Listening. More music, because it’s been another stressful week and I still don’t have the attention for my audiobook. More New Pornographers and more Heather Nova. Oh, and I did manage a couple of podcast episodes – it was good to reunite with The Mom Hour.

Making. Not much creativity this week, I’m sad to say. Just one of those weeks. Some dinners for the family, some attempts to book summer travel (unsuccessful thus far). The best thing I made is down below – read on.

Moving. I did a lot of walking this week – walking off frustrations at some unnecessary drama involving a few co-workers from one of my former firms. Queen Elizabeth says a brisk walk always helps, and who am I to argue with Queen Elizabeth? I may have gotten out for a run or two, but honestly, I can’t remember.

Blogging. I’ve been doing a lot of dreaming about what I want post-pandemic life to look like, and I’m making the first of three bucket lists for the After Times this coming Wednesday. And on Friday, my May reading recap – check in with me then.

Loving. You guys. Can we talk about my new favorite breakfast? Let me set the scene here. I am not really much of a sweet tooth, especially in the morning – although I do love plain Greek yogurt, I am ambivalent about fruit and granola for breakfast, and those are the traditional accompaniments to yogurt, right? Recently I had the idea to make a savory yogurt bowl, and let me tell you, it was life-changing. I don’t say that lightly. I started with a base of my favorite Fage 2% plain Greek yogurt, then added a generous helping of halved cherry tomatoes, a drizzle of olive oil, and – here’s the best part – a shower of everything bagel seasoning. I was going to do za’atar, to nod to my quick labneh dip that I often make to go with crudites, but the bagel seasoning called to me and, not for nothing, it’s pure genius. If you like yogurt but aren’t big on sweets, you NEED to try this. I came up with the idea on Friday morning and have eaten it four days in a row.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Themed Reads: An AAPI Booklist

I wanted to do something in honor of Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, and – of course – my first stop was my booklist. Because what better way to celebrate AAPI achievements than by buying and reading amazing books? (While shopping at AAPI-owned businesses, eating at AAPI-owned restaurants, and supporting diversity and inclusion efforts at work, obviously.) I couldn’t stick to just three, but here are a few of the AAPI-authored books I’ve read and loved in recent years.

The Truths We Hold, by Kamala Harris – I just recently read Vice President Harris’ memoir. As the first Asian-American and Black Vice President, VP Harris has lived a fascinating and ground-breaking life (and she’s just getting started!). I loved reading about her insights and experiences.

The Joy Luck Club, by Amy Tan – This is probably the ultimate classic of the Chinese-American experience. It’s been years since I read it, but I remember loving it (and eagerly looking around for Waverly Street and other book landmarks when I visited San Francisco in 2009). It’s time for a re-read.

Crazy Rich Asians (trilogy), by Kevin Kwan – It doesn’t get more fun than the Crazy Rich Asians trilogy, in which Chinese-American professor, Rachel Chu, falls headfirst into the world of ultrarich Singapore – via her boyfriend, Nick Young. Rachel’s culture shock, the sweet love story, and the fabulous settings and delicious food and house descriptions combine for a totally perfect trilogy. I loved every page.

Little Fires Everywhere, by Celeste Ng – It was hard deciding whether to include Ng’s first novel, Everything I Never Told You, or this one – but I liked Little Fires Everywhere just a tiny bit better. The encounters between Asian, Black and white neighbors in suburban Ohio are filled with tension. So, so good.

Pachinko, by Min Jin Lee – Family sagas are generally not my jam, but I couldn’t resist this epic, spanning decades from World War II onward. It’s a rich and compelling read.

American Born Chinese, by Gene Luen Yang – Yang became National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature in 2016, and American-Born Chinese, dual-narrative graphic novel about the experience of growing up Chinese-American, is one of his flagship works and a wonderful read.

The Wangs vs. The World, by Jade Chang – Fun (and drama-filled) family cross-country road trip taking place during the 2008 economic crisis. The Wangs tumble from super-rich to poor (or probably, really, just regular folks) and find their riches-to-rags story, and their time crammed into one car together on their way to start anew, gives their family a new lease on life. How can you go wrong? I loved this one, and need to re-read it.

The Buddha in the Attic, by Julie Otsuka – We need more historical fiction on this list! The Buddha in the Attic is a heartbreaking story of life in a Japanese internment camp during World War II. Julie Otsuka writes so beautifully.

What are your favorite AAPI reads?

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Tales from the Exurbs, Vol. VI: The Invasion

They’re heeeeeeeeeeere.

Every weekday, I get an email newsletter about the gig economy and the future of work, authored by my friend Susan. I love her pithy take on the news items she selects, and there are usually a few links that interest me. She also includes a “fun thing” each day – a new development dating from the beginning of COVID; it used to just be a “Friday fun thing,” but Susan decided we all needed more fun and she bumped it up to daily. Last week, one of the “fun things” was a RECIPE FOR ROASTED CICADAS, which NO. JUST SO MUCH NO. (For the record: it’s a NO for Susan, too.)

In introducing the fun thing, Susan mentioned that one way to have a conversation with someone from D.C., without them bringing up the weather, is to mention cicadas.

If you’re not in the know (or you’re not from the D.C. area and therefore not as obsessed with cicadas as we currently are), we are in the midst of a cicada invasion. “Brood X,” as they’re known, are a cyclical bunch of cicadas that appear every seventeen years. I lived in D.C. proper seventeen years ago (seems crazy!) but I don’t remember the last cicada invasion; maybe it just wasn’t as big of a thing then? Less social media? Or maybe just not as noticeable from a Foggy Bottom apartment when you’re consumed with law school final exams?

Because I’ll tell you – it’s cicada central in the exurbs. They’re literally everywhere; the other day I took my computer out to the sunroom for a conference call, and glancing out the window I realized – to my horror – that the back of my house was encrusted with dozens of cicadas. Just walking to the car is like navigating a minefield, unless you want a crusty layer of crushed cicada on the bottom of your Birkenstocks. Which I don’t.

The male cicadas arrived last week, and the females surfaced this week – and the decibel levels are noticecable, even for me. (I grew up listening to cicadas humming in my Grandmama’s backyard on Long Island, and I barely hear them; it’s just white noise to me.)

And then there are the exoskeletons.

Ohhhhhhh, the exoskeletons. There are abandoned cicada exoskeletons clinging to every leafy plant in my yard. I don’t even want to weed my garden.

In case it’s not obvious, I’m not thrilled about this development. I don’t mind the noise, but the dive-bombing bugs and the sickening crunch every time you step on one… shudder. Is it over yet?

Have you been following the D.C. cicada chronicles? Are you as over it as I am?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (May 24, 2021)

Well! Another Monday. Sorry for flaking on you guys last week. We had a death in the family (not entirely unexpected, but you’re never really ready to lose someone you love, are you?) and last week at this time Steve and the kids and I were en route to New York for the funeral, and I just couldn’t bring myself to sit down and write a blog post even when we rolled into town. I’m a very private griever and don’t want to go into any details, so I’ll leave it there.

Anyway – I have two weeks to recap for you here so I’ll try to keep it short and simple. Last Friday (so, a little over a week ago) I got my second dose of the Pfizer COVID-19 vaccine. Yay! I was originally supposed to get it on Wednesday, the 12th, but since that was my third day of work I rescheduled it for the following Friday in order to give myself the weekend to bounce back if needed. Luckily, I seem to be one of the fortunate ones who escaped with almost no side effects from either dose. So we spent last weekend getting ready to head north, and then most of last week was devoted to spending time with family. We drove back on Thursday morning, because Steve had his second dose of Moderna on Friday, and Nugget had tee-ball (and team picture day, a can’t-miss!) on Saturday.

I had big plans for being productive this weekend – cleaning the house and prepping meals. My first two weeks at the corporate job have flown by in a haze of onboarding, but now actual work is starting to come across my desk, and I figured I could use a weekend to get the rest of life in order so I could really concentrate on learning the new job. As it happened, I totally blew off the productivity plans – but I think I needed that. On Saturday, Steve was a little tired from his shot, so I took Nugget for his tee-ball team pictures and then kept him busy on the playground. Steve was feeling good enough to come to the game and carry out his normal first base coach responsibilities, so that was good. The afternoon was spent rushing around to Target and other errands, getting ready for a much-needed fun Sunday at the beach. My law school BFF, Carly, and I have been trying to make plans for a few weekends now, and we kept getting rained out. With a sunny 95 degree day forecasted, I texted Carly: “Weird idea. What about a beach day?” She was into it (that’s one of my favorite things about Carly – she’s always down for whatever) and on Sunday morning we headed to the beach. Steve was still feeling a bit run-down, so he stayed home and the kids and I met up with Carly, her husband Matt, and their two munchkins. It was a HOT and sunny day, so much fun, and just what I needed. We ate watermelon and cherries out of huge tubs I packed; bobbed around in the refreshingly cool water; and took the kids for rides on my paddleboard. (Carly, Matt and I all took turns tooling around with the munchkins; only Peanut declined a ride.) It was glorious.

Reading. Two weeks to cover, so I did get through some books – but it was a busy and emotional two weeks, so I didn’t get through as many books as I otherwise would’ve. Anyway, superquick – I started off last week with Spring, one of Melissa Harrison’s beautiful seasonal anthologies. So good, of course! Then blazed through The Guest List, which was an interesting, twisty suspense novel. Needing a break from intensity, I picked up Mrs. Tim of the Regiment, which had been on my TBR for ages (I love D.E. Stevenson, and Mrs. Tim might be her most famous character; how had I not made it to that series yet??). Then, scared straight by a notice from the library that I had no renewals available for either Such a Fun Age or the new Maisie Dobbs, I diligently applied myself. I’m nearly done with The Consequences of Fear as of press time. And no idea what I’ll pick up next! Probably another library book, although my shelves are calling.

Watching. Hmmm. With two weeks of material to cover, I’m not sure if I’ll remember it all – but I’ll try. We finished Secrets of the Whales (finally!) and then watched Giants of the Deep Blue, because we were still on a whale jag. (Or I should say: Steve and the kids were still on a whale jag. I’m always on a whale jag. Whale jag is baseline for me.) Nugget also requested Wild Cats of India, so we’re working our way through that one now. And while we were at my parents’ house last week, we watched the usuals – Free Willy and (I think?) The Sandlot. Of course.

Listening. Lots of music. I just don’t have the emotional energy to focus on an audiobook or even a podcast. Plenty of The New Pornographers; some Alexei Murdoch; some Annie Lennox; and I downloaded Heather Nova’s Siren and found myself immediately plunged back into 1999, belting out “Winterblue” as I cruised down the highway. (Any other Heather Nova fans from back in the day? I saw her at Lilith Fair in 1998. Remember Lilith Fair? MEMORIES.)

Making. Uh, I don’t know. Lots of dinners for the family. Many, many check marks on my onboarding checklist for the new corporate job (I am deriving an embarrassing amount of joy in checking items off). That’s about it.

Moving. Good couple of weeks of movement. Quite a few runs, some strength training, some hiking, some paddleboarding in the Chesapeake. A nice mix of activities – hoping for more runs this coming week, but I’m going to have to get up earlier, because it’s H-O-T out there these days.

Blogging. Another tales from the exurbs on Wednesday – about some recent visitors that I’m not too happy about. And on Friday, I have a Themed Reads post with an entire booklist. Check in with me then.

Loving. I have said many times, and I’ll say many times more – I am so fortunate when it comes to friends. Last weekend, as my mom and I were discussing logistics for the upcoming family funeral, she suggested that Steve may have to stay home to watch the kids during the wake on Tuesday evening. “No,” I said, “I need him to come to the wake.” My mom understood, but asked, “Who’ll watch the kids?” With total confidence, I replied, “Jenn will watch them.” Jenn, my high school best friend, always has my back (and I have hers). It only occurred to me later that it might be a little unusual to have total faith, without even asking, that your high school BFF will jump to babysit your kids at a moment’s notice. But I knew that she would. After I got off the phone with my mom, I immediately called Jenn and tearfully told her about the death in the family. (And I hate crying in front of people, or even audibly over the phone – so you know this is a good friend.) “What do you need?” she asked. “Can you watch the kids on Tuesday night?” I wailed. Immediately, and without hesitation, she promised to be there. (On her election night; she was running for School Board – which I, I’m embarrassed to say, completely forgot in the haze of my own bereavement.) On Tuesday, Jenn showed up promptly at 4:00 p.m., with her husband and daughter in tow, and jumped immediately into mothering my kids too. Steve and I went off to the wake and were able to spend the time remembering with my family – and I was grateful, all evening, that I had a friend who would drop EVERYTHING to be there when I needed her. I have a few friends like that – my college BFF, Rebecca, law school BFF, Carly, and several of my Alexandria neighborhood friends. I am really blessed when it comes to the girlfriends in my life. Okay, gushing over – but I should tell you, Jenn won her election decisively.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Avian Excitement

Spring is springing all over the place around here these days – really, it’s more like summer here, but I’m not complaining, bring on the heat – and the birds are as active as ever. Living in the temperate Mid-Atlantic region, and in a wooded exurb neighborhood, I have bird activity to enjoy all year ’round, which is wonderful, of course – but spring is a particularly busy time for the local bird population. And on that note, I have some fun updates!

First, on the home front: years ago I bought a vase-shaped ceramic nesting box from Crate & Barrel. This was long before I got into birding or knew anything about what to do or what to look for; I just liked the way it looked and thought it would be a nice addition to my (at the time) back porch. It’s moved with me from house to house, purely as a decorative object – until recently! Over the winter I saw a few Carolina chickadees going in and out, which was very cool, but just within the last month, a pair of Eastern bluebirds have decided to make it their home! (Sorry, Carolina chickadees – y’all are cute, but bluebirds are much more exciting.)

For weeks, they have been coming and going, bringing twigs, pine needles, and long strings of pollen (ugh) to literally feather their nest. I’m sure it helps that I hung a gigantic mealworm feeder right next to the nesting box (after swearing multiple times that I would never, ever, EVER buy mealworms).

So cool! I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I now take all conference calls from the sunroom so I can watch the bluebirds’ decorating progress all day long.

Further afield (but not much further) – while my backyard bluebirds have been living their real estate dream, the eagles at Riverbend Regional Park have added to their family: we officially have eagle chicks!

See them?

How about now?

You can tell they’re chicks because they’re not bald yet, but dang – even the chicks are gigantic birds! (These aren’t newly hatched, obviously.)

Mom and Dad are clearly so proud. We don’t have a nesting pair every year – although this nest has been around for as long as I can remember coming to Riverbend – and even less frequently do we catch a glimpse of hatchlings or chicks, so we’re obviously excited about this development. Prepare yourselves for more eagle pictures to come over the summer season…

Any avian excitement in your neck of the woods?

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The Life Library: Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen

Just to get one thing out of the way to begin with: all of Jane Austen’s books are on my life bookshelf. Of course. So why mention Sense and Sensibility specifically? Well – it was my first. And you never forget your first, do you?

As with so many of my formative books, my mother handed me this one. She wasn’t a Janeite, as far as I know. (Mom?) I believe the line of thinking was more along the lines of, my daughter has read basically all of Montgomery, maybe it’s time for Jane Austen. I don’t know why Sense and Sensibility, specifically – perhaps she chose it because it was Austen’s first published novel, or maybe based on the plot synopsis. It’s not Austen’s most famous (Pride and Prejudice) and I don’t think anyone would argue that it’s her best (I believe the debate raging there is Pride and Prejudice vs. Persuasion vs. Emma). Although anything Austen writes is basically perfect, so there is that.

I vaguely remember my first paperback copy of S&S, but what stands out more in my memory was my mom’s suggestion that I tell my ninth grade English teacher, Mrs. Stone, that I was reading my first Jane Austen, and ask her for her advice. I can’t recall if I had that conversation, although I suspect I probably did – I was a dutiful kid who generally did what she was told, and I would have viewed my mom’s suggestion as an instruction and complied. I also loved my teacher, and the opportunity to casually mention to her that I was reading a real grown-up classic and then have a discussion like a real grown-up reader would have been irresistible.

One of Jane Austen’s several residences in Bath.

Sense and Sensibility made a huge impression on me, obviously. (How could it not?) I identified with diligent, practical Elinor and rolled my eyes at whimsical, dramatic Marianne. (As an adult, I have some different opinions about the events and characters of Sense and Sensibility. I have much less tolerance for Edward Ferrars and his sticky situation, and much more sympathy for Marianne – although I still maintain that Colonel Brandon should have married Elinor.) Most valuably, Elinor Dashwood opened the door to a lifetime membership in the Janeite society; this is a society that has brought me endless hours of entertainment and many friendships, both “real life” and online – for sheer emotional riches, I don’t think any other author on my life bookshelf can compete with Jane Austen.

My fourteen-year-old self would have been delighted to know that my almost-thirty-year-old self walked in Austen’s footsteps in Bath, trailed by a non-bookish but very indulgent husband, and turned the pages of Persausion while treading the same footpath that provided the setting for Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth’s climactic scene. Now to plan a trip to Chawton.

Who was the first “grown-up” author you loved?

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The Classics Club Challenge: The House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton

Gilded Age Long Island – photo from Wikipedia

“From the beginning?” Miss Bart gently mimicked her. “Dear Gerty, how little imagination you good people have! Why, the beginning was in my cradle, I suppose – in the way I was brought up, and the things I was taught to care for. Or no – I won’t blame anybody for my faults: I’ll say it was in my blood, that I got it from some wicked pleasure-loving ancestress, who reacted against the homely virtues of New Amsterdam, and wanted to be back at the court of the Charleses!” And as Miss Farish continued to press her with troubled eyes, she went on impatiently: “You asked me just now for the truth – well, the truth about any girl is that once she’s talked about she’s done for; and the more she explains her case the worse it looks. – My good Gerty, you don’t happen to have a cigarette about you?”

There are a few authors I’ve been rationing, and Edith Wharton is one of them. Having read The Age of Innocence (one of my all-time favorite novels); The Custom of the Country; Ethan Frome; Summer; and some of Wharton’s travel writing, I’m conscious of the fact that I don’t have much left to go, and The House of Mirth is regarded by many as her masterpiece – so I was saving it. Still, I’d like to go to The Mount, Wharton’s home in Lenox, Massachusetts, this summer. And I figured it would be good to read The House of Mirth before I do.

The House of Mirth is the story of a falling star. Lily Bart – beautiful, elegant, witty – is the toast of Gilded Age Manhattan. Drifting from New York to Newport to Rhode Island, Lily can be found wherever the most exclusive party is gathering. But life at the center of Old New York is expensive, and Lily is poor. Although raised in a wealthy household, her parents frittered away their entire fortune, leaving Lily with no assets other than her beautiful face. (Note: Lily is described as having “bright” hair. I originally envisioned her as a blonde, but it’s later mentioned that her hair is red. At that point, Amy Adams took over the role of Lily Bart in my mental movie.)

When the novel opens, Lily is awaiting a train. She’s heading to Bellomont, the home of her best friend, Judy Trenor, for a weekend of champagne-quaffing and bridge-playing. While there, Lily is hoping to close an important deal: an engagement to the fabulously wealthy (and deathly dull) Percy Gryce. It’s do or die time; in Lily’s gilded circles, a woman who is still unmarried at 24 is on the shelf. Lily is 29.

While waiting for her train, Lily accompanies Lawrence Selden, a young lawyer on the fringes of fashionable Manhattan life, to tea in his apartment. Both Lily and Selden know that he could never be a serious suitor, but they’re drawn to one another regardless. Lily takes the opportunity to grill Selden about collecting “Americana” – known to be Percy Gryce’s only real interest – and then departs for Bellomont, where she employs all her charms on Gryce. But what the reader comes to learn about Lily is this: she’s terrible at angling. After hooking her fish, Lily never manages to reel it in – instead, inexplicably, she always throws it back.

She had been bored all the afternoon by Percy Gryce – the mere thought seemed to waken an echo of his droning voice – but she could not ignore him on the morrow, she must follow up her success, must submit to more boredom, bust be ready with fresh compliances and adaptabilities, and all on the bare chance that he might ultimately decide to do her the honour of boring her for life.

The entire point of the weekend at Bellomont was for Lily to hook Percy Gryce. But this is Lily Bart, so something always happens. This time, what happens is: Lawrence Selden shows up, distracts Lily from her occupation, and the big fish escapes, only to be promptly captured by a luckier angler, Evie Van Osburgh. Lily makes a half-hearted attempt to recapture Gryce, but everyone knows it’s never going to happen. And that’s Lily all over – freewheeling from near-miss to near-miss, trying to keep up with the fashionable set on a pitifully poor and sporadic income.

Looking to shore up her funds while she plans her next move on the marriage market, Lily looks to another market – the stock market. Pressing her friend Judy’s husband Gus for a “tip,” she allows Gus to invest what she believes is her own money, and she receives a handsome payout, to her delight. Unfortunately, Lily soon discovers that she’s been duped; Gus didn’t speculate with her money – he simply gave her some of his, and he expects a return on his “investment.” Lily is disgusted at the idea of being indebted to Gus, and she has no intention of becoming his paramour – but repayment is complicated, because she spends the money before she discovers Gus’s treachery.

Meanwhile, the rest of Lily’s family – including her stick-in-the-mud aunt – gets wind of her card-playing. Things are about to get really unpleasant for Lily, but she’s rescued (sort of) by Bertha Dorset, another member of the Manhattan smart set, who whisks Lily off on a Mediterranean cruise. Lily’s purpose is to distract Bertha’s husband George while Bertha flirts with another of the couple’s guests. It’s all going swimmingly (pun intended) until things begin to sour between Bertha and George – and Lily becomes the casualty. By the time she gets back to Manhattan, her name is mud.

Lily is a compelling, but frustrating, character. At turn after turn, she makes terrible decisions that sabotage her plans and, ultimately, her well-being. I think we’re supposed to root for Lily to give up on her aspirations of “keeping up with the Joneses” and realize that true happiness would lie in an upper middle-class life as Mrs. Lawrence Selden. But realistically – Lily is never going to make that leap. So I was rooting for her to land a big fish, even though I knew (spoiler) that she would not succeed, and it was all going to end badly. And really, in the end, Lily is her own worst enemy. Blowing off Percy Gryce is the first instance in the book, but Wharton assures the reader this is perfectly in keeping with Lily’s character, and not the first time she’s gotten 95% of the way to closing an engagement deal, only to flake and cause it to all fall apart. (There was an Italian prince with a handsome stepson…) And it’s not just with the gentlemen – when Bertha throws Lily under the proverbial bus during the Mediterranean cruise, Lily’s best hope for keeping her reputation intact is to beat Bertha back to New York and be the one to break the story. Despite clearly knowing this, Lily dawdles in London – with the result that Bertha beats her home, controls the narrative, and shreds Lily’s reputation to tatters by the time Lily’s ship arrives in New York Harbor. Lily’s problems are all the more tragic – and infuriating – for being so generally avoidable.

I loved the character of Lily, and the side characters are wonderful, too. Eminently decent Selden and his kind-hearted cousin Gerty Farish; deliciously vile Bertha Dorset and Gus Trenor; sad sack George Dorset; plucky, scheming Carry Fisher; dull Aunt Julia. The entire book is vintage Wharton – between the glittering settings and the snarky wit. I obviously loved the descriptions of Gilded Age mansions and parties, but I think my favorite part was Wharton’s bitchy (sorry, but that’s really the best word for it) wit. For instance, the nasty little aside that a certain character, like all “unpunctual persons,” disliked to be kept waiting – burn. The best example, though, might be Lily’s derisive observations of her fellow guests at Bellomont, early in the book:

She looked down the long table, studying its occupants one by one, from Gus Trenor, with his heavy carnivorous head sunk between his shoulders, as he preyed on a jellied plover, to his wife, at the opposite end of the long bank of orchids, suggestive, with her glaring good-looks, of a jeweler’s window lit by electricity. And between the two, what a long stretch of vacuity! How dreary and trivial these people were! Lily reviewed them with a scornful impatience: Carry Fisher, with her shoulders, her eyes, her divorces, her general air of embodying a “spicy paragraph”; young Silverton, who had meant to live on proof-reading and write an epic, and who now lived on his friends and had become critical of truffles; Alice Wetherall, an animated visiting-list, whose most fervid convictions turned on the wording of invitations and the engraving of dinner-cards; Wetherall, with his perpetual nervous nod of acquiescence, his air of agreeing with people before he knew what they were saying; Jack Stepney, with his confident smile and anxious eyes, half way between the sheriff and an heiress; Gwen Van Osburgh, with all the guileless confidence of a young girl who has always been told that there is no one richer than her father.

OMG. I can’t handle this sick burn. Mrs. Fisher, with “her shoulders, her eyes, her divorces.” Poor Alice, “an animated visiting-list.” Can’t you just see Gus Trenor, “preying” on his dinner? And his wife, glittering gaudily like “a jeweler’s window lit by electricity”? This is masterful snark. Edith Wharton, my hat is off to you. Please teach me.

The House of Mirth was fabulous. I’m so glad I read it, and I can understand why it’s considered Wharton’s masterpiece (although I think I still personally prefer The Age of Innocence). I’ll be re-reading it for sure – just as soon as my tear-sodden copy dries out.

What’s your favorite Edith Wharton?

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Reading Round-Up: April 2021

Reading is my oldest and favorite hobby. I literally can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love to curl up with a good book. Here are my reads for April, 2021.

The Iliad, by Homer – Reading Homer’s epic poem of the Trojan War seemed like a good way to begin National Poetry Month. It was certainly an undertaking! I loved the gods of Olympus and their squabbles; was less delighted by the gleeful gore of the war scenes. Fully reviewed (for the Classics Club) here.

Ten Poems About Walking, selected by Sasha Dugdale – These “instead of a card” collections from Candlestick Press are so much fun; what a total delight to read a handful of carefully selected poems on an appealing topic. Ten Poems About Walking ranges from classics of the form to more modern selections, and it’s a lovely, balanced collection.

Williams Wordsworth, selected by Seamus Heaney – I’ve been wanting to read more of the classic nature poets, and Wordsworth is the grandfather of them all, so I figured I’d begin with him. The language took some getting used to, but it was lovely to spend a day with him. (I suspect I’d like Dorothy Wordsworth’s Grasmere Journals even more…)

Ten Poems for Spring, selected by Katharine Towers – Spring is my fourth favorite season, as I’ve often said, but reading beautiful poems about blossoming and budding and the awakening of the earth does help. This was a very nice and well-balanced selection.

The Odyssey, by Homer – I enjoyed this much more than The Iliad – not sure if it was the plot (high seas adventure with monsters beats war any day) or the translation, which was modern and crisp. (And it doesn’t hurt that Emily Wilson is – I think? – the first woman to translate The Odyssey.) There was a little gore, because Homer’s gotta Homer, but it wasn’t near the levels of The Iliad, and the story moved more quickly, too. Fully reviewed (for the Classics Club) here.

Ten Poems About Birds, selected by Katharine Towers – After Homer, something short and sweet is called for, and another Candlestick Press selection delivered. I am a bird nerd, as you all know very well by now, and apparently birds are one of the classic subjects of nature poetry. Good for meeeeeeee…

The Heir Affair (The Royal We #2), by Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan – Needing a break from iambic pentameter, etc., and some brain candy, I turned to the library stack and The Heir Affair, the follow-up to 2015’s The Royal We. In this second installment of the adventures of Nick, Bex, and Freddie, the authors depart from the strict Will and Kate fanfiction and head off in a different direction. It’s fun and unexpected. I loved Nick and Bex, as usual, and Princess Daphne made for a delightful new addition to the gang. The best, though, was Bex getting Queen Eleanor into baseball. “Young man, you may suck it.” I snorted.

Betsy and Tacy Go Over the Big Hill (Betsy-Tacy #3), by Maud Hart Lovelace – Peanut and I are continuing our read-through of the first four Betsy-Tacy books (I think we’ll table the series when the girls get to high school, for now anyway, since the plots are a bit beyond second grade). This is a sweet one – Betsy, Tacy and Tib explore beyond their usual haunts and stumble across a rich community of Syrian immigrants, which broadens everyone’s horizons.

A Bite of the Apple: A Life with Books, Writers, and Virago, by Lennie Goodings – As a confirmed fan of Virago – especially the Virago Modern Classics line – I was really interested to read this history of the company by one of its longest-tenured employees. Parts of the book were excellent (I particularly enjoyed Goodings’ memories of her interactions with Virago writers like Marilynne Robinson, Margaret Atwood, and Maya Angelou) but it could be dry and dragging at other times. Glad I read it, but don’t see myself returning to it for re-reads.

Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver, by Mary Oliver – I’m not someone who simply has to read Mary Oliver as a spring ritual, but I really enjoy her poetry and it does pair well with the spring season and National Poetry Month. My mom gave me this volume – a sampling of poems from all of Oliver’s books going back to the 1960s, selected by the poet herself – for Christmas a few years ago and I finally sat down with it and read it all the way through. I loved it – of course. So many Oliver classics here, but also many that I had never read before. Of course, “Humpbacks” was my favorite.

Spring Magic, by D.E. Stevenson – What a way to end the month! I think this stand-alone novel was my favorite read of the month. It’s something of a Cinderella story – Frances Field, downtrodden and lonely, escapes a life of drudgery as unpaid companion to a demanding aunt and flees to Scotland for a vacation. In Scotland, she encounters eccentric locals and a group of vivacious military wives and their husbands – and one unattached officer, Guy Tarlatan. Romance buds, hijinks and misunderstandings follow. Frances is a delight, her friends are such fun, and the setting and story are captivating.

What a month! I started it out all-poetry, all-the-time. Loved it, although by mid-month I was ready for a change. Highlights were end-loaded; the best two books of the month were the last two I read – Devotions and Spring Magic. Very different, but equally wonderful. I’m looking ahead to a good month of reading in May; really hoping the tree pollen will clear up so I can log some reading hours in the backyard.

What did you read in April?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (May 10, 2021)

Morning, friends! Happy new week, and happy belated Mother’s Day – I hope that those of my friends who were celebrating had a good time showering the mother figures in your lives with love, and if you’re moms or mother figures yourselves, I hope that you were pampered as you deserve! Steve worked his butt off and pulled out all of the stops to give me a good day, and I felt very loved and appreciated.

Rewinding – vacation week is behind me now, and it felt good to take a pause and a breath between jobs. I got out paddling twice – not as much as I had wanted, thanks to the weather, but better than nothing; on my second paddling day I saw three gorgeous great blue herons, and two hawks diving for fish – pretty cool. Later in the week I made an impromptu trip up to my parents’ house to get in a visit to my grandmother. It wasn’t a planned trip, but it was good to get there and to see a few people (my grandmother most especially). Rather than deal with the production of traveling with the whole family, I just brought Nugget with me, and he had a good time basking in all the grandparent attention. (I hear that Peanut enjoyed having Daddy all to herself for a few days, too!) Although it was a very quick trip, I managed a long visit to my grandmother and a wine evening with a family friend, and Nugget got to show his grandparents how his bike riding is coming along. (He now does tricks. Every one takes a few months off my life.) We drove back on Saturday and arrived home around lunchtime, then spent the afternoon bumming around the house. We were supposed to kayak with friends, but the weather was cold and rainy – so no go.

On Mother’s Day I woke up early and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I decided to lace up my running shoes and bang out a 5K. I’d registered myself for a local 5K with a virtual option, and signed Nugget up for the 1K kids’ fun run, and the deadline to get ‘er done was Saturday – but I figured one day late still counted. I ran the first 4K on my own and was pleased to find that my legs still remembered what to do even after weeks of being too busy to run (I know, I know). I swung back to the house and picked Nugget up for the final 1K and we finished the race together; he’s the best running buddy ever. After our race, Steve went out and picked up smoked salmon for brunch – yum – which he presented alongside my gift: an electric air pump to make inflating my stand-up paddleboard easier. Sounds weird, but was the perfect present for me. After brunch, we headed out for a hike at Seneca Regional Park. Lots of fresh air; just what I wanted. I spent the afternoon hanging around and reading, and then everyone treated me to takeout. All in all, a good day, and a good weekend!

Reading. You can tell I was on vacation last week, huh? It was quite the reading week – although heavily front-loaded. I finished The Geography Reader, Vol. I, the latest issue of Slightly Foxed, and Rhubarb Rhubarb: A Correspondence Between a Hopeless Gardener and a Hopeful Cook all on Monday. All excellent and absorbing, but I enjoyed Rhubarb Rhubarb most; I flew through it in one sitting. After that, I felt a guilty pull toward my library stack, and spent the week over The Last Mrs. Summers (good fun, and a nod to one of my favorite classics – Rebecca) and The Other Bennet Sister, which I liked but didn’t love. Ended Sunday night curled up on the couch with Spring, from Melissa Harrison’s quartet of seasonal anthologies; I can already say I’m enjoying it as much as I did Winter – so, very much. Next up I think I’ll have to return to the library stack, as I am out of renewals on Lucy Foley’s The Guest List.

Watching. Almost done with Secrets of the Whales from NatGeo; we’re into the final episode – on sperm whales – now. The episode features my favorite marine biologist, Dr. Asha de Vos (and yes, Steve and the kids think it’s hilarious that I have a favorite marine biologist) and I am anxiously awaiting her appearance. Nugget and I also watched a family favorite – The Sandlot – with Nana and Grandad on Friday night.

Listening. Mostly, I listened to a succession of movies on the iPad, which entertained Nugget while I drove to and from my parents’ house. Also a bit of music; not much. Hoping to get my attention back so I can finish my audiobook one of these days.

Making. Conversation, lots of it – with my parents, family friend, Steve (always) and my grandmother; although the last was mostly me delivering a lecture about whales. (What? My dad told me to tell Grandmother about some upcoming travel plans, which obviously involve whales because I have to be me.)

Moving. I’m glad to report that I am finally getting my running mojo back, I think. On Wednesday I drove over to Riverbend for a solo trail run, which was lovely – except that I saw a (harmless) snake on the trail and after that, every stick was a snake. I’m not afraid of snakes, but I have a healthy respect for them and don’t want to step on one. Obviously. And then on Sunday, I banged out a 5K at a decently fast (for me) pace despite having not run for weeks as I wrapped up my old job. Pretty pleased with that, and it’s always fun to run with Nugget. Oh, and my mom and I took a long walk along the riverfront in Albany on Friday, while Nugget and my dad rode bikes. Not a particularly challenging workout (we had plenty of oxygen left to discuss mystery novels, the British royal family, and how much we love President Biden – so we weren’t exactly breaking a sweat) but all steps are good steps.

Blogging. Bookish week coming atcha! I have my belated April reading round-up for you on Wednesday, and a Classics Club review on Friday. Check in with me then!

Loving. It’s the Monday after Mother’s Day, so I am thinking about how fortunate I am to be surrounded by loving, supportive, and special women – not only my mom and grandmother, of course, but also aunts, family friends who have been like mothers to me, and female mentors. And then there are dear friends who have mothered my kids, and my cousin and other friends who have become mothers recently. And of course, I felt so loved and cherished – not least because Steve worked so hard to give me a special day. It’s been a hard year for all of us, and it was just so nice to feel appreciated (by Steve, at least! ha!).

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Way-Back Wanderlust: A Day in Monet’s Garden

Two things: (1) it’s been a long time since I’ve been anywhere worth writing about, thanks for nothing ‘Rona, and (2) it’s spring and I’m craving color and flowers. So I thought it might be nice to take a few (or ten) turns in the way-back machine and show you snaps from Steve’s and my visit to Claude Monet’s garden, in September 2010 – more than ten years ago now, which seems incredible.

I had wanted to visit Monet’s garden since I was a little girl and read the classic Linnea in Monet’s Garden. When I was a bit older, my school used to take field trips to the Clark Art Institute in Williamstown, Massachusetts; I loved the entire – extensive – collection of French Impressionists, but Monet was my favorite. So when Steve and I planned a trip to France in 2010, I knew that Giverny was a must.

Like most visitors, I imagine, our top priority sight was the famous water lily pond. Living in D.C. by then, I had made many pilgrimages to the water lily paintings in the Smithsonian’s National Gallery.

The iconic bridge!

Although I was most excited to see the water lily pond, I surprised myself by loving the gardens closer to the house even more.

Monet’s pink house with the green shutters, hung all over with ivy, is iconic. (We walked through the house, but photos aren’t allowed inside. No matter – I had no problem blowing up a memory card in the garden.)

I loved the riotous green pathways, leading in every direction, with flowers of every color reaching up for the sunlight.

I had intended to ask my grandmother for a painting of this wheelbarrow, but never did. Maybe I’ll have the photo printed on canvas or wood, instead.

The crowds seemed to all head for the water garden, and we had entire pathways to ourselves, to wander and feel the enchantment of being in the place that so inspired Monet. A few days later, back in Paris, we visited his great masterwork at the Musee de l’Orangerie.

Someday, I hope to find myself back in Giverny. Until then, I’m contenting myself with these photographs from more than a decade ago, and remembering the warm sunshine and the heady aromas of the artist’s garden.

Are you looking back at old vacation photos to cope with COVID wanderlust, too?