Last month, when I told you about my first encounter with Jane Austen, I mentioned my favorite English teacher, Mrs. Stone. English was my subject, and I loved all of my teachers – Mrs. Way, in tenth grade, and Mr. Thornton, in both eleventh and twelfth. But Mrs. Stone was special; she was a bookish kindred spirit with impeccable taste and high standards. I adored her, and no “A+” meant as much from any other teacher. (That’s mostly because they were harder to come by in her class than in any other.) For years, even after graduating from college and law school, my standard for reading choices was: would I feel proud to show this book to Mrs. Stone?
(About law school: I do kind of blame her for that. For one assignment, she required us to read real case materials and then write our version of a Supreme Court decision on a contentious issue. With my A grade came the comment “Don’t become a lawyer unless you intend to write Supreme Court decisions.” I zeroed in on the “become a lawyer” part; still haven’t written any of those Supreme Court decisions.)
One Writer’s Beginnings is Eudora Welty’s memoir-slash-meditation-on-writing. I had never heard of Eudora Welty until my mom came home from a back-to-school night or teacher conference with a scrap of paper and “One Writer’s Beginnings – Eudora Welty” written on it. “Mrs. Stone told me I have to get this book for you,” she explained. We promptly drove to Barnes & Noble and found it. And I was shocked at how engaging a book about writing could be – as you can tell from the creased cover, I’ve read it a few times now.
I inhaled the three sections of the memoir – “Listening”; “Learning to See”; and “Finding My Voice” – and then promptly fell down a Eudora Welty rabbit hole, devouring first her short stories, then The Optimist’s Daughter and Delta Wedding, which became one of my favorite books of all time (and still is). In fact, I think Welty was more formative than Mrs. Stone even intended. Already, I had an affinity for the American South – brought on by family vacations every year – and a premonition that I would make my adult home south of the Mason-Dixon line, which I have. Eudora Welty spoke to that affinity; I didn’t feel compelled to the Mississippi Delta – my leanings were more to the Tidewater, and Virginia – but something in her languid, rich Southern prose confirmed for me: I may have been born in New York, but this is home.
Tap, tap. Is this thing on? Happy Monday… night, folks. Sorry about the sporadic radio silence around here! The truth is – I’ve been out of town for the past two-and-a-half weeks, and computer time has been limited (no complaints here – it’s been wonderful). As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, we attended a family wedding; I neglected to let y’all know that it was in upstate New York, and we’ve been up there ever since – we just got back to Virginia today. Because I am still accruing vacation time and saving it all for a big trip this winter, we didn’t have plans to take a real vacation, but it was too good of an opportunity to see family and spend some time in the cooler, less humid air. After the wedding, we all hung around my parents’ house for a week; Steve and I worked and the kids basked in grandparent attention. And then last week, my parents wanted the kids to themselves (to spoil with ice cream, no doubt) so Steve and I were told to make ourselves scarce. We went up to Lake Placid and spent the week in a hotel on Mirror Lake – one of our favorite spots – mainly working, but squeezing in some fun adventures in our hiking boots and our new touring kayaks around work hours, and eating lots of delicious restaurant meals. (Steve reflected one evening that the perk of an active trip is that you can eat pretty much anything you want, guilt-free – we took advantage.) We bagged another Adirondack high peak, explored several new-to-us lakes, rode the mountain coaster at Mt. Van Hoevenberg – and so much more! Stories to come. Saturday was our travel day back to my parents’ house, and Sunday was for easing back into reality. I caught up with my high school BFF, Jenn, over a long walk, and then watched the kids show off their new tennis and biking skills. And then it was early to bed for a zero-dark-thirty wakeup call and the long drive back down south, where work and the start of the school year beckon. Here we go.
Reading.Very slow couple of reading weeks here. When I wasn’t working over the past two weeks, I was adventuring. But I did manage to make a considerable dent in Chesapeake – another day or so ought to do it. And I really wanted to read The Swiss Summer in Lake Placid; I only made it through two chapters up there, but at least I started it!
Watching. We watched the cutest movie last night! “VIVO,” on Netflix – starring Lin-Manuel Miranda as a rapping kinkajou who learns to push his fears aside and follow his dreams (to Miami, obviously). Peanut discovered it and assured us we would love it; I was skeptical because her choices aren’t always universally popular with the family – but this one was; we all loved it. Also over the past two weeks – the last of the Olympics; Jeopardy (at my parents’ house – every night); and part of San Andreas (I love a good cheesy disaster movie; need to watch the whole thing from beginning to end).
Listening. Not much in the earbuds. But lots of listening to the kids’ stories of their adventures chez Nana, which is better.
Making. Plans, plans, plans – for the school year. On Sunday night, I laid awake for hours worrying about it. I won’t bore you with all of my anxieties for back-to-school in the days of Delta variant. But I am planning to make some changes around here. Both kids are having their bedtimes moved, and we’re going to have to put an after-school routine in place for the fall. Plus they still need so much stuff – backpacks, lunch boxes, and all the supplies from their teacher-provided lists (whenever we find out who the teachers are, that is – it’s only a t-minus one week until the first day of school, nothing like waiting until the last minute, right?). Lots of shopping, organizing and cleaning to do this week – all around the regular job.
Moving. The past few weeks have been near-constant on the movement front. Especially last week – Steve and I were on the go basically every minute we weren’t working. We climbed another high peak, did a few more hikes, kayaked five different Adirondack lakes, and I even got some mountain biking in at the Olympic sports complex at Mt. Van Hoevenberg! Totally epic. Lots of stories to come.
Blogging. Well, I’ll have the last of my three part bookshelf tour on Friday; not sure what Wednesday will be just yet. Stay tuned; we’ll all be surprised!
Loving. Can I talk about my hiking boots for a second? I meant to pack my heavy-duty Oboz for the Adirondack trails, and in a moment of indecision tossed in my much lighter Merrell Ontario boots instead. I had my doubts as to how they’d perform on the trail (tbh, I bought them because they’re cute; I never intended them for anything more strenuous than a ramble with the kiddos on a Virginia trail). After a week in the ‘dacks, I was shocked at how well they did. Especially on our high peak day; I’m usually a ball of nerves on the Adirondack granite, but the Merrell boots were much grippier than my Oboz. (Steve did not have the same experience with his newish boots, sadly.) Between the Merrells and my Leki hiking poles (a major upgrade from my old Black Diamonds, courtesy of Steve last Christmas) I felt confident on an Adirondack summit – a new experience for me. YAY!
Back to the bookshelves! (I always enjoy creeping other people’s shelves, so I hope you’re liking getting a glimpse at mine. Fair’s fair.)
When we left off I had shown you my reading spot (above) and my primary bookshelves – and hinted several times that I need another shelf, which I do. I’ve got a bit of overflow shelving in place, but it’s filling up quickly. Starting with the little wooden bookshelf over on the right.
I wanted a bookshelf that looked like a (small) tree, but it turns out that’s not a thing that really exists – or at least, not in the size and price point that I wanted. I found this modern tree-inspired shelf on Amazon, and Steve kindly put it together for me… but I’ve already pretty much filled it up. From the top: some vintage books (D.E. Stevenson, Elinor Brent-Dyer, and Mrs. Miniver) and some vintage-looking Beverly Nichols that didn’t fit on the nature and travel shelves but don’t appear too terribly out of place here. And then two shelves crammed almost-full with Dean Street Press books. These are going to need their own shelf soon. I’ve enjoyed every one of these mid-century middlebrow novels that I’ve read.
Immediately under the Dean Street Press books – a hodgepodge of books, mostly recent acquisitions (relatively – within the last year anyway) that I just stuck here until I could organize them better. Some NYRB Classics, 3/4 of Melissa Harrison’s seasonal quartets, a handful of Handheld Press books I want to read soon, Diana Cooper’s three-volume memoir, and more. I guess the unifying theme here is that these are mostly cozy reads, with the exception of Black Narcissus?
Finally, the bottom shelves are mystery overflow: some Agatha Christie, some Ngaio Marsh, and a shelf-full of British Library Crime Classics. Someday I’m going to have an entire bookcase full of classic crime. Things are really trending in that direction.
Opposite the other bookshelves (behind the couch, ish) I have a poorly organized cupboard full of candles and other overflow book storage. It’s mostly hardcovers – some new and some vintage, plus a stack of golden age mystery novels I’ve had since high school, and another stack that I borrowed from my friend Susan and need to return. There are a few treasures in here, though – namely my early Elizabeth von Arnims, first edition L.M. Montgomery novels (and one Edith Wharton novella), and a beautiful gilded copy of Tales of the Alhambra that my grandmother bought for me in Spain, years ago.
Finally, the coffee table – which used to be styled, what do you think of that? – has turned into piles of books that don’t fit on the shelves where they belong. There’s Birds of Virginia (which I usually keep by the kitchen window, so I should put it back there sometime), a stack of vintage children’s novels from Girls Gone By, more classic crime and a few other Dean Street Press books waiting to be read soon. Don’t mind the kids’ books, which they never clean up.
You can see that I really do need another bookshelf! Or maybe a few more bookshelves. And a dedicated library to put them in. I’m low maintenance, guys! Next week: the family bookshelves, which (spoiler alert) are mostly mine, although I have generously granted Steve a couple of shelves to store the books he almost never touches.
Every year, it seems, I forget to round up my top ten books of the first half of the year until late July or early August, so I guess this is par for the course? Let’s not even pretend I remotely have my act together anymore. In any event, I’ve had a great six (actually seven) months of reading – and plenty of good writing ahead of me for the rest of the year, of course. In no particular order, here are my top ten highlights of the year (as always, this list covers books read this year, not necessarily published this year) so far.
Mrs. Tim of the Regiment, by D.E. Stevenson – I have a feeling that 2021 is going to be my Year of D.E. Stevenson. It took me way too long to get to her most famous character, Mrs. Tim Christie, but when I did I was enchanted.
The House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton – Gorgeously written, lushly evoked, and frustrating for being so avoidably tragic, The House of Mirth might be Edith Wharton’s masterpiece. I still love The Age of Innocence most, but any Wharton is going to end up on my best-of list for the year, it’s basically guaranteed.
My Family and Other Animals, by Gerald Durrell – If you’re looking for something to scratch a travel itch and make you scream with laughter, look no further. I literally laughed until I wept, and then looked up flights to Crete.
Subpar Parks: America’s Most Extraordinary National Parks and their Least Impressed Visitors, by Amber Share – I’ve written on here before about Amber Share’s work and what a huge fan I am. Her first book – featuring some of her best known pieces from social media, but a bunch of new parks too, juxtaposes iconic national park images with idiotic nitpicking criticism and is absolutely hilarious and the pinnacle of irony. Let’s all just crown Amber queen now.
Rhubarb, Rhubarb: A Correspondence Between a Hopeless Gardener and a Hopeful Cook, by Mary Jane Paterson and Jo Thompson – I flew through this, but loved every second. Thompson and Paterson exchange breezy notes, recipes, gardening tips, and life updates. There are beautiful illustrations and photographs and it’s utterly lovely.
Spring Magic, by D.E. Stevenson – See, didn’t I tell you it was going to be my year of D.E. Stevenson? I thought of leaving the charming Spring Magic off this list because Mrs. Tim was already on here, but I couldn’t. I just loved every second of this delightful book.
Mango and Mimosa, by Suzanne, Duchess St. Albans – Give me all the eccentric expat childhood memoirs, please.
Black Narcissus, by Rumer Godden – Not a comfortable reading experience (like most of the other entries on this list were), but Black Narcissus was lush, eerie, gorgeously written and quite frightening. I couldn’t put it down.
A Winter Away, by Elizabeth Fair – Elizabeth Fair is a new-to-me discovery this year and I’ve already read two of her six novels (the other being Landscape in Sunlight, which just narrowly missed this list). These are charming, cozy, comfortable comedies of village life and I am here for them all. (And this one had the added benefit of not being completely obvious who the heroine would end up with – I did guess at the final romantic coupling, but only about 25 pages before the end.)
Winter: An Anthology for the Changing Seasons, ed. Melissa Harrison – I’m reading my way through this series this year, and I’ve read both Winter and Spring. Both are lovely but I enjoyed Winter just a bit more – perhaps because I like winter better than spring in general? Either way – everything from the cover to the last page was just lovely.
What have been your favorite reads of the year so far?
You know what I realized? Since moving into this house, setting up my bookshelves, and recommitting to reading my own books (which is going swimmingly, by the way, are you interested in hearing more?) I haven’t shown you around my bookshelves as they are currently configured. Shall we change that?
Starting with: the above. Here’s where I do the bulk of my reading, usually after the kids go to bed or in the morning over my first cup of coffee. I’d like a rug to cozy up this space, but we’re renting and I don’t know what my next reading nook will look like, so I’m resisting temptation. Other than the chilly toes, I like this spot very much. You can’t see them, but there are three skylights almost right over the couch, letting in lots of natural sunlight. And I do love this view: this is my “priority” bookshelf, where I house most of my favorites, and I think the books on these shelves best represent who I am as a reader. Take a closer look? Well, sure. From the top left corner:
Literary fiction and sci-fi/fantasy. I don’t spend much time over here, to be honest. The top shelf houses my tiny lit-fic collection, some of which I plan to keep but others of which are just on the shelf until I get to them (if I love them, I’ll keep them; otherwise, they’re headed to the library donation once I’ve read them). There is also a small stack of bird-related books; ignore that, it should be on a different shelf. Next shelf: another small collection, of science fiction and fantasy, just my favorites. Tolkein (I have gorgeous Folio Society editions, thank you Steve!) and Lewis; Catherynne M. Valente’s Fairyland series (still have to read the last one); more Valente (can you tell she’s my favorite modern SFF author?); some YA Lumberjanes novels; my treasured and much re-read collection of Outer Banks ghost stories and lore; Nimona.
Non-fiction and poetry. Next shelves down are a bit more in my wheelhouse. The upper shelf houses narrative non-fiction arranged in roughly chronological order, except that the left third of the shelf is all Churchill. (Behind Nugget’s first birthday invitation is a boxed set of A History of the English Speaking Peoples. #nerdalert.) On the lower shelf, I’m roughly evenly divided between memoirs and poetry – although poetry is starting to take over and might need its own shelf soon. The struggle is real.
Hardcover classics and oversized books. Ooof. These two are a bit of a mess, aren’t they? (The router isn’t helping matters.) On top – overflow hardcover classics, mostly from Penguin Clothbound Classics, MacMillan Collector’s Edition, Imperial War Museum Anniversary Editions, and Hodder (you can’t see them, they’re behind the college pennant, but I’m working on E.M. Forster). Underneath, I have larger coffee-table style books, omnibus editions of classics (left over from my high school days), and family albums, all sort of cascading together in an unholy mix.
Comedy and Slightly Foxed Quarterlies/Books About Books. Moving on to the second bookcase from the left! The top shelf contains comedies, but this is about to be broken up, because I’ve decided Barsetshire needs its own shelf – Trollope and Thirkell will be keeping company soon. (I’m sure Anthony would be disgruntled and Angela delighted.) Underneath, I have a complete (!) collection of Slightly Foxed quarterlies, alongside a handful of books about books. This shelf, too, is due for a reshuffle. I want to get the quarterlies all into slipcases, and they’re starting to encroach on the books-about-books’ space.
Slightly Foxed, Persephone, and NYRB Classics. More that need a tidy! The top shelf houses my Slightly Foxed and Plain Foxed Editions, Foxed Cubs, and Slightly Foxed Paperbacks (and a square glass vase with bookmarks). This shelf is getting too big for its own good and needs to expand. And below – most of my Persephone books (including Persephone Classics) and NYRB classics, but not all – and my Persephone collection has some significant holes, so this is another group that is crying out for more space. (As I’m writing this, it occurs to me that the common refrain is: I need another bookshelf. But where to put it?)
Penguin Drop Caps and Children’s Hardcover Classics. Here are a few mostly neat shelves! Upper level: Penguin Drop Caps, which I collected a few years ago. (I don’t agree with every selection for this set, but it was unthinkable not to have the complete alphabet, as I’m sure you’ll understand.) On the lower shelf, a mix of childhood favorites and newer acquisitions (mostly of childhood favorites in nicer editions). Winnie-the-Pooh; the Little House books; the Puffin in Bloom collection; several Folio Society editions of children’s classics I read for the first time as an adult; and some miscellaneous. And my Willow Tree figurine of a mother and baby, which I got around the time of Peanut’s first birthday to remind myself of the squishy newborn months.
The Victorians. Moving right along to the next bookcase – it’s the Victorians! Can you even handle it? We have Jermone K. Jerome’s classics of vacation hilarity (Three Men on a Boat and Three Men on the Bummel – both fabulous); the Folio Society’s editions of five of Gaskell’s novels (why didn’t they include Cranford with this collection?!?!); Lark Rise to Candleford and The Pick of Punch (both of which may be Edwardian? sorry) and my grandmother’s complete set of Dickens, bound in green leather – a true treasure.
Jane Austen. Speaking of treasures, Jane Austen gets two shelves almost completely to herself (at least for now – one of these is probably going to get repurposed as a Barsetshire shelf by fall). I love the Folio Society editions of her novels and letters, but I also love the Penguin Clothbound Classics set – how is a girl supposed to choose? The rest is mostly Austen-adjacent history and criticism; over to the lower right is Trollope, though. I have always thought he and Jane would get along. Ullathorne could have been in Highbury.
L.M. Montgomery and Harry Potter. Last two shelves on this bookcase: one crammed to within an inch of its life (literally) with L.M. Montgomery’s journals and novels (including my cherished Emily paperbacks and my beautiful Anne editions from the Folio Society – I will never stop lobbying them to finish the series). And underneath, the Harry Potter books (including the illustrated editions that have been published thus far and the start of my next collection – the Ravenclaw versions).
Travel and Nature and Nature and Travel. Last bookcase! The top two shelves are a hodgepodge of travel and nature; there’s a little of both on each shelf. I should organize them better and make room for my bird books. One of these days.
Paperback Classics. I’m honestly surprised I only have two shelves of these; clearly I’ve been very restrained. There are a few holes here – I think I have one more book to make a complete set of the Sourcebooks D.E. Stevensons, and I’m working on that Thrush Green collection, which is still in its infancy. But I love the Maud Hart Lovelace series, and I am beyond excited about the gorgeous Elizabeth Jane Howard set (which was just reprinted, is a new acquisition, and hasn’t found a permanent home yet – send wine).
Mysteries. Last shelf! (For now: more to come next week.) This is part, but not all, of my classic mystery collection. Some (but not all) of my Hodder editions of Dorothy L. Sayers; some (but not all) of my British Library Crime Classics collection. I do have a complete collection of the Flavia de Luce mysteries, which I love – have to get to the final two, though – and now I have all of the Josephine Tey editions that Folio Society has published in its most recent collection, a great achievement. I need to read The Red House Mystery soon.
Everything is a bit crammed together right now; I really do need another bookshelf but don’t know where it would go – that’s the only thing standing in my way. I’ll show you some of the overflow situation next week, and then the family bookshelves (most of which are also my books) the week after. As for the question everyone asks when they see my bookshelves: how many of these have I read? I think about 60%, roughly. And knocking more off every week, thanks to my renewed commitment to reading from my own shelves.
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 July, 2021.
Landscape in Sunlight, by Elizabeth Fair – I am so enjoying Elizabeth Fair’s quietly acerbic comedies of village life – first A Winter Away, and now Landscape in Sunlight, and both have been wonderful. Gentle scheming and romance abound, all set around that tense time in the annual country calendar – the lead-up to the annual church summer fete. Y’all know I can’t resist a summer fete.
Arsenic and Adobo (Tita Rosie’s Kitchen #1), by Mia P. Manansala – I’ve been waiting impatiently for my turn with the library’s copy of this one, and it didn’t disappoint. After a bad breakup, Lila is back in her tiny hometown trying to save her aunt’s failing restaurant. But when Lila’s ex-boyfriend – now a small-time food critic who delights in cruelly eviscerating local restaurants and seems to be trying to put Tita Rosie’s Kitchen out of business – dies of apparent poisoning immediately after arguing with Lila and eating Tita Rosie’s food – things go heavily sideways, and fast. There’s a brash BFF, a handsome defense lawyer, and an attractive dentist love interest who happens to be the brother of the lead investigator (who is devoting all his handsome energy to putting Lila behind bars). This was fun and the descriptions of food – Filipino and otherwise – were mouth-watering.
Tokyo Ever After, by Emiko Jean – I heard this described as “The Princess Diaries in Japan” and that’s a pretty apt take. Izumi is a modern young Californian, raised by a crunchy-granola single mom, who discovers one day that her father – who she’s never met – is actually the Crown Prince of Japan. Before “Zoom Zoom” knows what hit her, she’s on a plane to Tokyo, where a scheming extended family and a handsome but scowling bodyguard await. Hijinks ensue, and the story wraps up perfectly poised for a sequel.
Subpar Parks: America’s Most Extraordinary National Parks and their Least Impressed Visitors, by Amber Share – I’ve already written a few times about how much I love Amber Share’s clever, witty and ironic illustrations – one-star yelp reviews embedded over iconic images of our most beautiful national parks. So I won’t go on and on here; just to say, go check out her work on social media, and pick up this book! It’s hilarious, inspiring, meticulously researched, and will explode your travel agenda.
Noel Streatfeild’s Holiday Stories, by Noel Streatfeild – After enjoying Noel Streatfeild’s Christmas Stories last December, I was keen to check out this summer collection (also, the hardcover is so pretty!). This was a light and fun gathering of children’s stories with a loose summer theme. It was easy reading and charming, but didn’t hold my attention enough to keep me glued to the page.
Mrs. Lorimer’s Quiet Summer, by Molly Clavering – I’m always interested when Dean Street Press drops another collection, and having never heard of Molly Clavering I was particularly intrigued to learn that she was close friends with D.E. Stevenson. Mrs. Lorimer’s Quiet Summer is a loosely autobiographical novel based on Clavering’s friendship with her much more well-known (bestselling) neighbor. There’s reference to both women being writers, but the spotlight is on Mrs. Lorimer’s large and boisterous family of grown children (and a few grandchildren). I loved this delightful light read, and will definitely be picking up more of Clavering’s books soon.
Well – there we have it, a very light reading month. Partly, this has to do with the fact that on and off during the month, I’ve been working my way through James A. Michener’s doorstopping Chesapeake, with which I am still not done. And then I just spend less time reading in the summer than I do in the colder months, anyway. I did read some good ones this month, though! The two Dean Street Press books – Landscape in Sunlight and Mrs. Lorimer’s Quiet Summer – were definite highlights, as was Subpar Parks.I have some good reads on deck for August, too – just as soon as I finally finish Chesapeake. It’s gonna happen.
Yawwwwwwn. Good morning! How were your weekends? Anyone else need another day? I’m wiped – we’ve been busy. On Saturday morning, Steve and I were out the door early to – FINALLY – demo kayaks. We had wanted kayaks for years and decided that we would buy them as a fifteenth anniversary gift to each other. For those of you doing the math at home and wondering, wasn’t your fifteenth anniversary a year ago? – the answer is yes, just about. (Fifty weeks, to be exact. Sixteen will be on August 13.) We haven’t been able to find anything to demo for the past year until just this weekend. We had planned to go paddle some Current Designs kayaks that we were both interested in on Sunday (Solstice GT for Steve; Solstice GTS or Equinox for me), but changed plans on a dime when we got some updated information about model availability. Taking advantage of babysitters, we rushed out to a different boathouse than originally planned, and each paddled the model we most wanted to try – P&H Cetus LV for me; Current Designs Solstice GT for Steve. We both loved the paddling experience, and the Cetus and Solstice are now lashed to the top of our car.
If finally buying our fifteenth anniversary kayaks – a year late – wasn’t exciting enough, as soon as we got home we had to quickly shower off the lake water, get fancy, and head out for a family wedding. Everyone was emotional and excited about the day. The bride, my cousin Jocelyn, is a hospital nurse who has spent the last year putting her health on the line caring for patients on a COVID floor. The wedding was supposed to happen last year, but Jocelyn and Jason made the hard and sad decision to postpone because of the pandemic. Not wanting to wait to be married, they exchanged vows in a tiny outdoor ceremony last June (we watched on Facebook) – but this weekend was the big and long-awaited celebration. They are a beautiful couple – inside and out – and we were so excited to get to celebrate with them. And the kids were in the wedding (along with Jason’s niece and nephew) which made it extra adorable! (There was a chorus of awwwwww when the two flower girls and two ring bearers came trotting down the aisle in a big clump.)
After all that excitement, Sunday was a pretty low-key day. We spent the morning relaxing and recovering from the wedding, and finally rolled out for a hike mid-afternoon. (Pictures coming soon – this one gets a recap!) Finished the evening with a cookout – not bad.
Reading. Pretty slow reading week – typical. I finished Mrs. Lorimer’s Quiet Summer on Friday night (LOVED); it was a busy week at work and around the house and I didn’t have as much evening reading time as usual, even for summer. After saying goodbye, reluctantly, to Mrs. Lorimer and Miss Douglas, I turned back to Chesapeake. I’m determined to finish it! At press time I’m about 40-ish percent in, so progress is happening, albeit slowly. (I can see why my grandmother loved James A. Michener – he was right up her alley – but I’m going to need a good long break and a string of shorter books after this.)
Watching. Well, the best watching of the week was my cousin exchanging vows with her handsome soulmate. Everything else kind of paled in comparison, but we did watch some more Olympics – always great.
Listening. Actually, nothing in my earbuds this week. Guess I’ve wanted some quiet time.
Making. Decisions, decisions! After a year of dreaming of test-paddling a kayak and being foiled over and over again, I found a boathouse that not only had the P&H Cetus in stock, but had two colors. I was rather hoping someone would buy one of them out from under me (but just one, not both) and make my decision for me. But when I arrived at the boathouse, they were both still there: blue with yellow trim, and orange with yellow trim. I’d wanted an orange kayak and thought I’d go that way, but I didn’t really like the look of the yellow trim on it, and the blue looked beautiful next to Steve’s red Solstice (and had a newer, redesigned, seat). So I surprised myself by choosing blue. It was the right call.
Moving. Pretty good week of movement, but could have been better. On top of the above-mentioned hike and test-paddle, I got in three decent runs. I wanted to squeeze in another run or two, but on Saturday morning I fell, hard, and cracked my shin. It’s still achy and swollen this morning, although a lot better than it was. It’s probably runnable, but I think I’m going to give it another day or so, because I want to make sure it has a chance to fully heal before Steve and I leave for the Adirondacks later this summer.
Blogging. Bookish week coming atcha! On Wednesday I have my July reading round-up ready to go, and on Friday I’m giving you the first part of a three-part bookshelf tour. I love creeping other people’s shelves, so I hope y’all enjoy.
Loving. I always love watching the Olympics, but I am especially loving the important conversations that are finally starting in connection with this year’s Games. From the excessive control the (male!) Olympic executives exercise over the female athletes’ clothing, to Title Nine’s decision to contribute $1 million toward equal pay for the women’s soccer team, to the crucial conversations about athletes’ mental health – these are all things that should be out in the open, and now they finally are.
A few weeks ago now, we decided on a whim to go for a short hike at one of our favorite local spots – Rust Nature Preserve in Leesburg, Virginia. We’ve hiked here in all seasons at this point; I love looking for feathered friends (it’s a bird sanctuary) and resting my eyes on the serene meadow. It’s always a special place, but our most recent hike was something more.
As we started out for our regular meadow loop, I spotted something I’d never seen before, at least, not at Rust – trail berries! Early-season black raspberries, specifically.
At first, I thought they were blackberries; I only later realized that they were black raspberries. Either way, though, edible. Blackberries have no poisonous lookalikes – they do have similar-looking cousins (like loganberries and marionberries – or Mayor Berries, as I like to call them, sorry fam I’ll see myself out) but all are fine to eat. So the rule in our house is, trail blackberries and the like are fair game. The kids chowed down accordingly.
As we meandered down the trail, stopping every five feet to pick and eat more black raspberries, I had the strong feeling that my grandmother put these raspberry bushes in this meadow for us.
She loved a good wildflower meadow, and berry-picking; we used to gather bowls of red raspberries from a thicket in the yard at my family’s Adirondack camp and then take them inside, still warm from the sun, douse them in heavy cream and feast.
She also loved Queen Anne’s lace – it might have been her favorite flower; certainly I always associate it with her – and the meadow was dotted with the delicate white blossoms, too. Coincidence? Hardly.
I made the kids thank Great-Grandmother for the gifts. (“Well, of course you did,” said my aunt when I told her this story, “you’ve always been polite.”)
A short 0.6 mile loop took over an hour, but it was worth it. We picked and ate berries (oh, this probably goes without saying, but guys, please don’t eat anything you find in nature unless you’re sure it’s safe, okay?) and walked along talking about how nice it was that Grandmother thought to put all these treasures in our path.
I recently realized that it has been (literally) months since I read through my Feedly – where blogs collect on my phone – and as I was scrolling through the ninety-some posts that had piled up there in that time, I saw that Modern Mrs. Darcy recently did one of her periodic posts on the things she is loving in the current season. And it occurred to me that (1) I haven’t done one of those in awhile; and (2) it would be a good topic for this otherwise unplanned week. So here we go: a few things I am loving in summer of 2021.
My paddleboard! This is the biggest one for me. My board (it’s an NRS Thrive 9.1 iSUP) and paddle (Werner Zen 85) were Christmas gifts from Steve, and I waited more or less patiently (okay, less) until the weather warmed up enough for me to get out on the lake. I’ve been going out as much as possible since early May – mostly in a small local reservoir, but once on the Chesapeake Bay. Lately I have to sneak out of the house because if Nugget sees me leaving with the paddleboard, he wants to come and ride along… but he has a kayak of his very own coming soon, so I’ll be getting my board back to myself and still be able to get out on the water with my paddling buddy.
My desk. Another big one – ya girl has her own workstation! When we all went home for the pandemic I thought – like many – that the WFH life was going to be short-lived, and I didn’t bother to set up a desk. I worked from the kitchen table from March until June 2020, and then moved into the dining room when we moved houses. A year of working from my dining room table was aggressively unpleasant – the chairs are comfortable for a meal, but not for 10+ hours a day, five or more days a week, for an entire year, and the workstation made it impossible to eat family meals. I recently learned that my boss has planned for me to continue working from home for the foreseeable future, so it was time to get a real desk. It’s nothing special – just an IKEA desk and a chair from Home Depot – but the difference it has made to my work life to actually have a dedicated workstation has been incredible. The best part has been my standing desk converter; I had one at my old law firm, and it has been the thing I’ve missed more than anything over the last year of working remotely. This standing desk converter was inexpensive, it’s super sturdy and easy to use, and I’m now back to standing for most of my workday. As I told my boss (during a 1:1 webconference that was mostly just me picking up and tilting my laptop awkwardly so she could see the converter and watch me raise and lower it) I LOVE it and my only regret is not buying it a year ago.
My Birkenstocks. Here’s something smaller but still significant to me – while I am doing all that standing at my desk, 98% of the time I’m wearing these – my Birks. After I wore out my old Mayaris, I decided to switch it up and went with the classic Arizona model. (The color is “Earth red” or something – I wanted a nice warm brown but these were on sale, so. They’re growing on me.) I’ve been pretty much living in Birkenstocks the past few years and I’m not even mad about it. Is it the 1990s again? Maybe.
Summer running shoes. While we’re on the subject of shoes, when I’m not in my Birks I’m probably in running shoes. I like to alternate between pairs (my excuse is that it helps prevent injuries; I hope that’s true, but I also like matching my shoes to my outfit, a little bit). For most of my summer runs, I’ve mostly been wearing Hoka Cliftons (LOVE THEM) and Brooks Launch – I recently got this limited edition #BraveLikeGabe pair. On top of looking really cool, part of the proceeds go to rare cancer research. Okay, enough about shoes.
Grain-free granola. I think I’ve mentioned before that I’m not a huge fan of granola. I am sensitive to grains (even gluten-free grains) and I try to avoid them for the most part because I just feel better when I do, and I also don’t eat much sugar (just not a sweet tooth, and don’t need it). So granola is pretty low on my list of breakfast foods, but that could change. I have a few different flavors of grain-free granola in my pantry right now, and it’s been nice to mix it up and sprinkle these on my morning yogurt for crunch. I have two bags of Nature’s Path, which are good, but this Paleonola is my new favorite – all real food, no grains (of course) and lower in sugar – and carbs – than most store-bought granola options, so not overly sweet. Yum.
Pure Placid candles. I love this local Lake Placid business, which makes heavenly-smelling candles, home products, lotions and shower gels inspired by the Adirondacks. Lately I’ve been burning the Mount Marcy candle, and every time I light it, Steve comes sniffing into the room and says “That’s the best-smelling candle I’ve ever smelled, will you get me one for my desk?” I’m almost down to the bottom of the jar now, so I’m going to have to pick up a few more when I’m in the Adirondacks later this summer.
Adventure Annie. Finally, one last biggie to wrap this post up – I am loving weekend mornings spent shredding the gnar on my new mountain bike. After a year of trying without success to buy a mountain bike so I could ride with Nugget, I stumbled on the very bike I’d been eyeing online – now named Annie – a Specialized Rockhopper, size XS. (The bike shop employee who fitted me said “You’re almost too tall for the XS” and endeared himself to me forever.) I was desperate enough to not be too picky about the color, but as luck would have it, this colorway (“gloss blaze/ice papaya” – looks like that’s no longer on the website, sorry guys) was my favorite of the options. Meant to be?
Good morning! I’m dashing off this post quickly before I have to rush out the door to drive into D.C. for the third time in three days. The locally-based members of my employer’s legal department are having a morning gathering at Rock Creek Park – I’m excited. I haven’t met anyone in person yet, so this should be fun.
But backing it up to Saturday. We woke up slowly and meandered out the door for 10:00 a.m. kayak reservations at our favorite spot, Fletcher’s Cove (just upriver from Georgetown). We switched it up and Nugget paddled with Steve, while Peanut paddled with me. Let me tell you, it was really refreshing to paddle with someone who wasn’t yelling at me to go faster all the time. Peanut and I spotted birds, talked about what we’re reading right now (Beezus and Ramona – a re-read – for her; Mrs. Lorimer’s Quiet Summer for me) and soaked up the morning sun. The tide was high, the current was low, and there wasn’t much breeze, so it made for an easier paddle than others we’ve done recently. Altogether – just a nice, nice morning. We drove home for lunch and to shower off the Potomac, and then Peanut and I turned around and headed right back into the District to meet up with my friend Taunia and her daughter, who were visiting from Buffalo on their way to the beach for the week. Taunia hadn’t been to D.C. in sixteen (or twenty-six? she couldn’t remember) years, and her daughter never had – so we started by getting them oriented to the National Mall. We looped the monuments, all the way from their hotel way up near the Capitol and down to the Lincoln Memorial – a looooooooong walk – and then kept going up to Chinatown for dinner. At the end of the day I’d logged almost 24,000 steps – oof!
Sunday was much more low-key. We had planned to spend the day getting things done around the house, but I got a very slow start, frittering away the morning sitting on the couch and scrolling through my phone. (Normally I would feel badly about that, but I’ve been on the go so much lately, I think I needed the break.) Eventually I did motivate myself off the couch and tackle my big project – cleaning out the fridge. It needed it, badly. After three garbage bags and several loads of dishes (ALL the Pyrex) the fridge has space again and everything in there is edible. Great success! I cleaned the rest of the kitchen as well, and folded several loads of Steve’s and the kids’ laundry, then collapsed on the couch to get caught up on some Olympics. Ended up leaving the house only twice (once to pick up dinner, because I didn’t want to dirty a bunch of dishes in my sparkling kitchen) and once for a neighborhood walk after tucking the kids into bed. And now another week begins. Let’s go get it!
Reading. It’s been another busy week in life and another slow week in reading. Noel Streatfeild’s Holiday Stories took me seven days to wrap up (very unusual for me, especially for a short volume of children’s stories – shows you where my head is these days) but I finally finished it on Friday. It was cute, but suffered from my short attention span. I turned to Mrs. Lorimer’s Quiet Summer next, and I am really enjoying it. As of press time, I’m a little more than halfway through and it’s just what I wanted to read right now – light, funny, totally delightful and summery.
Watching. After cleansing our palates for a few days after the Tour de France, we’re back on the sports wagon. On Sunday, we watched the Tokyo Opening Ceremonies and then a bit of the prime-time coverage (we caught Simone Biles’ floor routine – astonishing as always). Looking forward to two weeks of Olympics-watching!
Listening. The usual mixture – music (my summer playlist again; still loving it) and podcasts. I’m nearly caught up on a backlog of Shedunnit and The Slightly Foxed Podcast episodes thanks to my evening neighborhood walks. The highlight this week was an episode of The Mom Hour on “coping strategies for the chronically annoyed.” Sarah and Meagan were as gently validating as ever, and I found myself nodding along with many of their gripes (shoes kicked off in doorways! melodramatic play-fighting!) and wishing I had a notepad to scribble down their suggestions for dealing with the annoyance.
Making. The usual summer stuff here – not a lot of cooking in the kitchen, but plenty of work product and progress (two steps forward, one step back, but that’s still progress) toward getting the house in order. Given the season, it’s a bit of a losing battle – the hall table is piled with sunglasses and sports equipment; I trip over soccer cleats almost every day; and the kitchen counters are (usually) littered with water bottles. But progress is being made, slowly.
Moving. Bit of a lighter week – a few runs, lots of evening walks, and one morning of kayaking. No hikes this week – whoops. I need more yoga in my life.
Blogging. I can’t give you any hints this week because I have nothing planned and no ideas. Something will come to me and we’ll all be surprised.
Loving. It was such fun playing tourist in my own town with a visiting friend. I don’t do that enough! As I guided Taunia, her daughter, and Peanut toward the monuments, I realized that the last time I wandered around this part of the Mall was 2015, when I wasn’t actually even living here (we stopped in town to break up a drive from Buffalo to the Outer Banks and even then, didn’t do too much tourist stuff, preferring to spend our time meeting up with friends all around the city). We do hit the Smithsonian museums on a regular basis when there isn’t a pandemic on, but rarely make time for the monuments. I’m definitely going to have to get back to the Mall sooner than later.
covered in flour 