The other day, Steve rushed into the house and excitedly announced that we had a “new neighbor.” Since we’ve barely met any of our existing neighbors, I wasn’t sure why the fanfare – but then he pulled his phone out and showed me a video of a rather beefy fellow eyeing him suspiciously and then disappearing under our shed.
The kids were thrilled, obviously. Our very own neighbor groundhog! Can life get better? Seriously, can it? Over dinner, we had a ferocious family debate about what to name him. Peanut and I plumped for “Phil,” after his famous relation, but Steve said we were being “speciesist” and that not all groundhogs are named Phil. Eventually, after some truly skillful advocacy, Steve persuaded us all to agree to his choice of names.
Meet Lord Chuckingham. Because he’s dignified. See it?
After dinner, Steve suggested that we should all go look out the sunroom window, because Lord Chuckingham might be hanging out by his palace gates. Low and behold – he was, and I snapped a few pictures through the sunroom window (including that first one, above). Then Steve suggested I might be able to sneak outside and get some better snaps without scaring His Lordship, if I was super quiet. It was worth a try, so I rushed out the front door, crept around the side of the garage, laid down in the grass and army crawled into the middle of the yard for a clear shot.
Almost there. What I do to get good pictures for you guys, I mean, really.
Your Lordship! Welcome to the neighborhood!
He wasn’t sure what to think of me. (Worth noting; I was all the way across the yard – about 75 feet away, or more – when I took this picture. Kudos, again, to the P1000 and its sick zoom lens.)
He decided to crouch down and hide, but continued to keep an eye on me. I read this signal as “go away” so I carefully and quietly crept out of the yard and back in the house. A few minutes later, he disappeared under the shed and we haven’t seen him since; it’s been scorching hot outside so I assume he’s staying cool in his burrow (smart groundhog).
Monday! You’re back! It’s funny – since I changed jobs, I really don’t mind Mondays anymore. That’s telling, right? It may not last, but I’m enjoying this new lease on life for now, anyway. Not to say that it wasn’t a great weekend. It was one of those weekends spent mostly outside, drenched in sun and fresh breezes (and quite a lot of sweat – it’s summer in the swamp, after all), and I crashed on the couch bone-tired on Sunday night. Just how I like it, especially in the summer.
On Saturday morning, I rolled out of bed and immediately shoved off to take Nugget mountain biking. I had promised him days before, and we were both looking forward to the ride. I’ve been diligently researching kid-friendly trails for my budding shredder, and found a wide trail (really an old dirt road) with basically no obstacles, so we hit it up. It was fun, but hillier than expected and we had to dodge several groups of hikers strolling along six abreast, which wasn’t awesome. It’s poor trail etiquette to begin with, and I’m trying to teach Nugget the rules of the road. But we navigated the human obstacles and had a great ride. It started to rain just as we were wrapping up our ride, but fortunately it was only a passing summer shower, because pretty much as soon as we got home (after feeding the kiddos a quick lunch) we were back out the door, this time as a foursome, headed for our favorite kayaking spot just upriver from Georgetown. Between wind and current, it was a tough paddle – but fun. Can you believe that was just Saturday morning? The rest of the day was considerably more low-key. I puttered around cleaning, took a long walk after dinner, and read a bit.
Sunday was another active day. I slept in a little later than intended, so to beat the heat I pretty much rolled right out of bed and into my running shoes for four very sweaty miles in my hilly neighborhood. (Sometimes I really miss those flat Old Town streets and bike paths… sigh.) Came home and changed from road runners to trail runners – we hit up one of our local parks, Seneca Regional Park, for a family hike. We often avoid Seneca because there is a BIG and STEEP hill to contend with, but Steve suggested it would be good preparation for the Adirondacks later this summer, and I couldn’t argue with that. Between the run and the hike, my legs were pretty much dead after that; again, the rest of the day was devoted to house chores and errands, which was about all I had energy to do. But I love these active weekends; I have energy to burn after sitting at my dining room table solving problems with my brain all week.
Reading. Bit of a slow reading week – typical for summer. My reading pace always slows way down when the temperature heats up; I don’t worry about it. I spent the week luxuriating in British Summer Time Begins; it’s been on my list for months now but I was saving it for actual summer, and it was so much fun. The weekend was for my last remaining library checkout, the new Kazuo Ishiguro. Klara and the Sun has a very Never Let Me Go vibe, which is concerning. I’ll wrap it up today; really hope things turn out okay for that poor confused robot.
Listening. Finally! I have a good mix of things to report to you. First of all, I made a summer music playlist! Poor little Nugget had to listen to me belt out “Into the Mystic” (I like to really go for it on “IIIIIIIIII wanna rock your gypsy sooooooooul“) and “Letter Never Sent” – among others – on the way back from REI on Sunday. And I’ve also knocked out over an hour of All Creatures Great and Small on Audible, over a few post-dinner walks last week. Another couple of weeks of strolling the neighborhood and I’ll be done with it.
Watching. It’s Tour de France season again! Steve, who hates riding bikes himself (so sad) has good-naturedly watched the first two stages with me. I applied a combination of wheedling (“It’s really all about the shots of the French countryside, you love France!”) and guilt (“I’m always fourth in line for the TV!”) and amazingly, it worked. My plan is to keep this going as long as possible. I really want to watch the entire tour – fast-forwarding through the Peloton cycling through interminable back roads, obviously, and focusing on the really important stuff (French villages, King of the Mountain pushes, and the stage finish for the yellow jersey of the day). And when Le Tour is over, it’s only five days until the Opening Ceremonies of the next Olympics, so basically, I’m in charge of the family’s sports watching for the next two-ish months.
Making. Well, I intended to actually finish this task, but I’ve made… progress, at least… at dismantling the kiddos’ school setups. Nugget’s in particular looks like a hurricane went through it. I’ve gathered up the reusable supplies and started packing them into a Rubbermaid, begun a garbage bag for the worn-out stuff and random scribbles, and tidied up the crayon drawer, so – a good start. By the end of this week, I hope to have completely cleaned out, packed up and thrown away all of the school detritus. Send chocolate, you guys. Actually – forget chocolate. Send wine.
Moving. Another super active week! A double-digit mileage week in terms of running; several walks and bike rides in the neighborhood and local parks; a tough hike on Sunday; a morning of paddleboarding before work and a windy paddle on the Potomac with the family; a strength workout; a yoga workout. I’ve got a streak going of doing at least something every day, and it’s been so much fun. Another side effect of the new job: I have motivation again.
Blogging. I thought I was done with my Tales from the Exurbs for a little while, but we have a very dignified new neighbor and I just have to introduce you all, so that’s Wednesday. And on Friday, my wrap-up – for what it’s worth – of my slow June in books. Check in with me then!
Loving. Did you know that Instagram has a new feature that allows you to enter your pronouns into your profile? (I mean, other than just in the field for your name.) This is a new development that is just so wonderful. It’s so important for allyship to normalize sharing pronouns – to send the message that gender is a large spectrum, and also to create a safe space for trans, nonbinary, and other folx to share their pronouns. I entered my “she/her” and it’s now in slightly smaller letters below my name on my profile – yay! If you haven’t already added your pronouns to your Instagram profile, would you please consider it? It’s so very important.
When I was in the fifth grade, I tried out for the middle school play, Little Miss Christie and landed a spot in the chorus. I remember very little about the play, other than:
It was a mystery story starring a girl, Christie, who was a huge fan of Agatha Christie. The only line I recall was something to the effect of that Christie’s parents were fans, but “Christie – she’s a fanatic.”
There was a song called “And Then There Were None.” I don’t remember the song, other than that the chorus was just a repetition of the song’s title, sung in very chipper voices.
It was probably that school musical, and the song “And Then There Were None,” that put into my head that And Then There Were None would be a good place to begin with Agatha Christie. (And Then There Were None is the third published title of the book; the first two titles were very dated and offensive and I can’t bring myself to type them out.) In any event, at some point in middle school or high school – can you tell these memories are very hazy? – I sought out And Then There Were None at the library.
At the time, the local library occupied two rooms in the town hall. (It has since been expanded into its own large and beautiful building.) Because space was so limited, the selection wasn’t great at the time. (Again, vast improvements have since been made.) But there were a few authors that were well-stocked, and the Queen of Crime was one of them. The library owned what seemed to me to be a complete set of her works – it may not have been, since she was so prolific, but there were a lot of books on the Ch. shelf, and certainly all of her major novel were there. They were lined up on the shelf in puffy black leather covers with gold lettering.
It took me a few years to read through that shelf. I remember bringing one of those black leather volumes on vacation with me one year in high school; it fell off the balcony of our rented beach house and landed in the sand. I rushed down to retrieve it and furtively, guiltily, brushed the sand off the cover; the President of the Library Board, my dad’s closest friend, was on vacation with us and I knew I’d get static if he knew I had dropped the book on the ground. And for years, I added an Agatha Christie to my Christmas list – sometimes one of my favorites from the library, like Murder on the Orient Express, so I’d have my own copy, and sometimes one I hadn’t read yet, like Cat Among the Pigeons. One year, I received Sleeping Murder, starring Miss Marple, and that was the first mystery novel for which I figured out the “whodunit” before the denouement.
I’ve been reading mystery novels consistently since those first Agatha Christies. I’m partial to golden age crime – Dorothy L. Sayers, Margery Allingham, and especially Agatha Christie – and I’m enjoying discovering new names, like Carol Carnac/E.C.R. Lorac, and Anthony Berkeley, through the British Library Crime Classics series. I’ll pick up a mystery from a modern author, too, although I prefer historical settings (and a minimum of gore) – Jacqueline Winspear, Alan Bradley, Alexander McCall Smith, Elizabeth Peters and Rhys Bowen, among others, all have their places on my reading list. It all flows from the Queen of Crime, though, and from that first time I cracked the cover of And Then There Were None.
Of my three categories of post-pandemic hopes and dreams (little everyday things; in-betweeners; and big crazy bucket listing dreams), this is the easiest list to fill. If anything, the challenge is reining it in. Now, I’m not trying to rein it in to a manageable level. This is a bucket list. These ideas are inherently unmanageable – that’s the charm of them. But I could go on for days, spinning fantasies about all of the wild and crazy things I want to do. Most of them are related to travel, and there’s a bit of adventure baked in here and there, and some Practical Adult-Style Life Goals just for good measure. So, to quote the Founding Father who really embodies the spirit of hip-hop, Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton: “Le’s go.”
Visit the most forbidding and remote continent: Antarctica. Do the Polar Plunge in the honest-to-goodness Southern Ocean, hike on the Antarctic Peninsula, and paddle a kayak through shards of sea ice. Bonus points for whales.
Closer to home, knock off forty-two more high peaks to become an Adirondack 46er.
Visit all of the National Parks in the U.S. and Canada.
Hike the Inca Trail.
Pack raft from Colorado to Utah. (Note to self: see if my brother wants to come; I’ll bet he would.)
Run a marathon. (Wineglass, if I can get in. And I would love to run Marine Corps someday – my hometown marathon.)
Go on an African safari, or maybe more than one – because I don’t know if I can squeeze everything I want to do and see into one trip. I want to paddle the Okavango in Botswana, see elephants and lions, sleep under the stars in Zambia, meet mountain gorillas in Rwanda, look out over the Zambezi and Victoria Falls, climb Kilimanjaro, and taste wine in South Africa. So… that’s at least four trips. Or five?
Thru-hike the Tour de Mont Blanc in France, Switzerland, and Italy, and also the South West Coast Path in England.
Related: take part in a Mass Trespass.
Buy my forever house and renovate it to be exactly what I want.
Take a hiking trip to the Swiss and Austrian Alps. (We’ve already decided: this is the destination the next time we make it to Europe.)
Stomp on grapes in Tuscany.
Climb the ladder at my current job. For the first time in ages, I feel like I am just where I want to be, and now all I want to do is learn, grow, and work my way into more responsibility. It feels wonderful to be excited about my career again!
Kayak the Gorges du Verdon. Oh, and sleep in a French chateau!
Hike the Presidential Traverse in the White Mountains.
Visit northern Africa – ride a camel in Morocco and take a Nile cruise (and try not to think too much about Agatha Christie).
See the Japanese Alps ablaze with color in October.
Swim under a waterfall at Havasupai.
Write a mystery novel.
Just twenty things! That’s not too many, right? Fortunately I have a willing adventure buddy in Steve; so far he’s been up for pretty much every crazy idea I’ve tossed his way. (He’d balk at climbing the Stairway to Heaven in Austria, so that might be a girlfriends’ getaway. I bet my sister-in-law would go with me.) On a fun note, a couple of these wild and crazy ideas are in the works – albeit in very early stages. Now I’d better toddle off and check my vacation leave balance.
What wild and crazy things do you plan to get up to once we can travel again?
Good Monday morning, friends! How were your weekends? Were you celebrating Juneteenth and Father’s Day? We had a busy weekend showering Steve with love and appreciation for all he does for our family. On Saturday, we were out the door early for a favorite hike – Riverbend to Great Falls (for a picnic) and then back. It’s not a particularly demanding hike, but at about four miles it’s quite a distance for the munchkins’ little legs. They were champs, though – especially on the way back, powered as they were by hot dog buns spread liberally with Nutella. (We’re low on groceries.) I spent the rest of Saturday reading – The Vanishing Half, a beautiful new(ish) novel by a Black author, and several articles about Critical Race Theory and the law.
On Sunday, Steve bounced out of bed early for Formula One (I believe it was the French Grand Prix this weekend?) so we gave him his present over breakfast – I had ordered his favorite chicken wings from Duff’s, a Buffalo institution; he hasn’t had them since we moved back to Virginia five years ago now, so to say he was excited would be an understatement. (And surprised. I’ve learned that the trick to keeping a gift a surprise until the appropriate time is not telling the kids anything.) The rest of the morning was slow. Steve and I both got out for runs in the humidity, then fed the kids an early lunch and headed for the river. Steve’s wish for a Father’s Day activity was kayaking at our favorite spot, and I’m happy to oblige that. We wrapped up the weekend with sushi, and I think our resident dad felt very celebrated.
Reading. A good reading week! After bogging down in Ready Player Two (how? well, the concept is basically the same as Ready Player One, so it doesn’t come across as quite so creative the second time around, and I couldn’t care less about the gang’s mission on the planet of Prince, let alone for seven chapters) I finally finished – and moved on to more library books for most of the week. The Vanishing Half occupied the second half of the week, and it was time very well spent; I don’t know if I loved it as much as The Mothers, but I loved it, it was wonderful. Then I spent Saturday afternoon through Sunday afternoon over Wintering – an odd seasonal choice, I know, but this is when my number came up at the library, so what can I do? Finally, on Sunday evening, I was able to turn back to my own shelf; I do have one more library book out right now, but British Summer Time Begins was calling to me.
Watching. Not much over the course of the week, but good weekend watching! On Saturday night, Steve generously signed one of his nights of TV choice over to the kids, and they picked Luca, a new Pixar movie that just dropped on Disney+. It was actually adorable, and we all enjoyed it. And then on Sunday, we started Okavango: River of Dreams – Steve’s choice. I’ve had a longtime life goal to kayak the Okavango, and Steve has apparently become obsessed with the idea, too. (No complaints here!) We made it through about a third of the movie before the kids sacked out, so there will be more Okavango to come this week.
Listening. Eh, nothing much new to report here. Same New Pornographers (or “Carl and Neko,” as I call them in mixed company) on repeat.
Making. Nothing much to report here, either – no cooking or baking, although I had big plans to make a paleo peach crisp that will have to wait a bit longer. Infuriatingly, our dishwasher repair techs no-showed for our appointment on Wednesday. We called, and our landlord called, and we were promised a visit on Thursday. And then they no-showed on Thursday, too, and now no one is available until this coming Wednesday (allegedly). We’ve worked out that we have been without a working dishwasher for a quarter of the time we have lived in this house, which – while it doesn’t make the house uninhabitable – is totally unacceptable. I hope to have some paleo peach crisp to show you next week, but honestly? Don’t hold your breath.
Moving. It was a great week of movement! Four runs, a long hike, a tough (current, wind) paddle, and one strength training session. The highlight was running around the Little League ballpark one day last week, after dropping Nugget off at baseball camp. I’m having way too much fun running in my new Hokas. I’ve been a loyal Brooks customer since 2010, and I still love their shoes, but… Hokas, man, they’re just so soft and springy.
Blogging. Big audacious bucket list goals coming atcha on Wednesday, and on Friday… something. I haven’t figured out what yet. We’ll all be surprised!
Loving. Happy Father’s Day to all the dads, grandpas, stepdads, father figures, mentors, and to the Second Gentleman! Steve does so much for us all year, and it was fun to plan a day of spoiling him. He was surprised and delighted by his present – PSA, upstate New Yorkers, you can order Duff’s through Goldbelly, it’s expensive but that look was worth it.
I can’t believe this: it’s been a year since our moving truck rolled out of Old Town Alexandria and transported us one county – and what sometimes feels like half a world – away to the exurbs. In some ways, it feels like we have been living this exurb lifestyle forever; in other ways, I’m surprised to wake up and not find myself in my little rowhouse in Old Town.
On the day we moved in, driving to pick up my kids from their babysitter’s house, I saw a wild turkey loitering by the sign at the entrance to our neighborhood. If this is a sign of things to come, I thought, we’re in for a treat, living here. The past year has brought us so many cool wildlife sightings; from gorgeous orange foxes running through our front yard at dawn to the nesting pair of eagles – and their chicks! – at our favorite local park, just ten minutes away, I sometimes feel like I’m living in a NatGeo special.
We loved living in Old Town, and there were so many advantages to our walkable city lifestyle – but one huge drawback was the lack of good outdoor space for the kiddos. We made the best of our little patio, but I wanted them to have a cool yard. They’ve made the most of our green space this past year – from sledding with the neighbor kid to climbing on their red and blue dome (which they could never have done in Old Town – I think the box it came in, pre-assembly, was bigger than our old patio; kidding, kidding).
I’ve been wanting a fire pit for ages. We could have had one in Old Town, probably, sure, but hanging out by the fire toasting marshmallows outdoors was on my list for when we moved and had more space to kick around. When we buy the forever house (in the same zip code, if we have our way) I want to install something more permanent. For now, this works. I’m keeping s’mores ingredients in my pantry at all times.
Here’s something I haven’t done yet: I haven’t rehabilitated this wild jungle. Last year, we moved in June and it felt like it was really already too late. This year, things were just busy – with changing jobs, getting to the finish line of the weirdest school year ever, and the first season (the first of many, I hope) of Little League. I did uproot a bunch of dandelion plants, so that’s something. We’ll do another container garden, and planting a really elaborate garden might just be another thing that has to wait for the forever house. But it has been nice to sit outside this spring (when the pollen wasn’t too outrageous) and enjoy the surprise blooming. Best thing about the first year in a new house: all the flowers that you don’t know to expect.
What a year it’s been! We’ve leaned into finding our favorite local restaurants, embraced the Little League lifestyle, gone trail-running in our neighborhood park, and started meeting people here. This is a small town, and I am looking forward to post-pandemic coffee shop visits and really starting to feel like a local. I do miss being able to walk out my backdoor and stroll to the library, the neighborhood playgrounds and pool, the waterfront, and dozens of different restaurants – there were advantages to city living, no doubt. But I am glad we made this move, and I can’t wait to settle in and spend years here.
When I started thinking about a post-pandemic bucket list, I didn’t realize that this would be the hardest category to brainstorm, fill, and write. It’s easy enough to come up with a list of the little things I’ve been missing over the past year (library visits, mornings wandering the farmers’ market) and I always have a lengthy list of giant, audacious goals, mostly related to travel. But what’s in the middle?
It starts with defining the middle, I suppose. After a year in which just going to the grocery store was an adventure, any travel at all seems like it belongs on the “big” list. But there are categories of domestic travel that don’t take the kind of planning, saving, and audacity that some of the other trips I’m dreaming of would require. And there are local adventures – like when I went hot-air ballooning last October – and things I’d like to do that are bigger than just going to the library, but don’t involve passports or require me to have the organizational skills of a D-Day commander. So that’s the general idea here. Things like:
Get scuba-certified (there are some local dive shops that do pool training before you head out to the open water).
Have Thanksgiving at my brother’s house (in Colorado) again.
Do some business travel – I need to get up north to visit my HR clients soon, and some of my teammates (who are spread out around the country) are talking about coordinating planning on a trip to corporate headquarters so we can see each other in person.
Attend my cousin Jocelyn’s wedding – finally! The big reception has been postponed for a year; Jocelyn and her husband Jason didn’t want to wait to be married, so they had a small outdoor ceremony last year during the height of COVID, which we watched on Facebook – but the big party is happening this summer and we’re so excited to celebrate. Peanut will be a flower girl again, and Nugget will do his first stint as a ring bearer, and I can’t wait to see that cuteness and to celebrate with family. Every bride deserves her day, of course, but Jocelyn is a nurse and has spent countless hours caring for others during a global pandemic; if anyone deserves a magical and perfect wedding day, it’s her.
Get back to running local races in person again, and train for and run another local half marathon. Maybe the D.C. Rock ‘n Roll half?
Finally meet some people in our new town – I made a start on mom friends, but could use some more running/biking buddies. (Nugget is a fun guy, but it’s pretty stressful to take your heart’s treasure mountain biking.)
Do some more exploring in the Blue Ridge. I want to check out Carvin’s Cove, Smith Mountain Lake, Roanoke…
Related: spend a weekend at Big Meadows Lodge in Shenandoah National Park.
Get enrolled at the local rec center and start swimming regularly.
Knock off another high peak (or two) and some of the shorter Adirondack hikes I’ve been wanting to get to – like Mount Jo and Blueberry Cobbles.
Go whitewater rafting – maybe on the Upper Hudson, or maybe the New River in West Virginia?
So, there it is – a list of things that I want to do, that are not small but not huge, either. The sort of things that you look forward to from weekend to weekend – or maybe a little bit longer – in between farmers’ market mornings and epic adventures. I think that was the basic idea. Everything on this list is calling to me, so I suppose that’s right.
What are your middle-of-the-road adventures coming up?
Morning, friends! How were your weekends? I’m sad to see the back of this one. Since starting my new job I don’t dread Mondays the way I used to (a good sign!) but all the same, we had so much fun over Saturday and Sunday. On Saturday morning, Nugget and I had a kayaking date at Fletcher’s Cove, our favorite paddling spot (just upriver from Georgetown). Steve and Peanut were off brunching in Old Town while Nugget and I tackled the mighty Potomac. The current was especially strong on Saturday – so much so that the boathouse employee told me that by the afternoon he probably wouldn’t be letting folks out on the river anymore; we were glad we were there in the morning, before it got too hairy. We made good distance considering the current, and we saw a bunch of different birds – success! After turning in our kayak, we changed out of our river clothes and into some more respectable shorts and t-shirts, and had our own brunch date in Georgetown, followed by bike shopping. Nugget wanted to check out the next size up in mountain bikes – for his wish list, fam. I promised him a stop in a couple of bike shops, but sternly told him “I am not buying any bikes today, buddy, so don’t ask.” Famous last words? On a whim, we stuck our heads in the Bicycle Pro Shop on M Street – a Georgetown institution – and they randomly, serendipitously, had a Specialized Rockhopper Sport, size XS, color papaya – the very bike I’ve been gazing soulfully at online for over a year, which has been sold out everywhere. So after swearing up and down that I was REALLY NOT BUYING ANY BIKES TODAY, Nugget and I found ourselves wheeling the Rockhopper down M Street, back to the car and home to the mountain bike capital of Northern Virginia. Saw that coming a mile away.
Since kayaking, brunch and bike shopping (and a play date later in the afternoon, I didn’t even mention that) were apparently not enough for one weekend, I ran around all Sunday working off excess energy – starting with a 5K at 6:30 a.m. (hey, I was up), followed by a hike at our local favorite, Riverbend Park, and then Nugget and Mommy’s Excellent Adventures continued with our first trail ride. We hit a section of Difficult Run and Nugget was a total champ – riding over rocks and roots, down hills and through puddles (we were both whooping out loud at the puddles). We finished the ride caked in mud – our legs, our tires, and our bike frames – and delighted. We’re already planning next weekend’s ride.
Reading. Kind of a slow reading week – ’tis the season. I’m always full of big plans to read late into the bright summer evenings, and I always find myself scrolling through pictures and reliving the adventures of the week instead. But I have turned some pages. Mid-week, I finished up The Kitchen Front – it’s already back at the library. Then I took a break on the library stack and polished off a back issue of Slightly Foxed (always so good). Now it’s back to it; as of press time I’m about three-quarters of the way through Ready Player Two. It’s fun and all, but not as enthralling as its predecessor, Ready Player One. I have a few more library deadlines looming, so it’ll be another week or two before I can get back to my own shelves, but I’m looking forward to that (and I really am making an effort to be more disciplined about the holds queue).
Watching. Still working our way through Miss Marple on Britbox (I love it; Steve seems to be tolerating it okay). And with the kids, we’ve had a fun week over two Disneynature films – Dolphin Reef and Elephant. I loved them both. Did you know that Elephant is narrated by Duchess Meghan? Mind officially blown. Also, it was wonderful.
Listening. I’m trying to remember if I put in any podcast or audiobook time this week; if I did, it wasn’t memorable. It was another music-heavy week, particularly The New Pornographers again. I’ve been listening to “Chump Change” on repeat.
Moving. Very busy week! Three runs, several long evening walks, a hike, and a muddy trail ride on my new treasure. (Nugget and I are mulling over names for the new bike. We’re leaning toward “Adventure Annie,” Annie for short. Validation welcome.) I’ve been on a mission to get a sixty-day streak of 10,000 steps a day; I found myself looping the couch or calling relatives just to have an excuse to pace around the living room with my phone, but today will be day 10, so I’m on my way.
Making. Um, nothing much? My dishwasher is broken – again, and have I mentioned lately how sick I am of renting? – so we’ve been eating ALL the takeout and doing basically no cooking. I did make the aforementioned several phone calls. The highlight was to my BFF, Rebecca, on Thursday evening. She is starting her own law firm, and this week is the big launch! I’m so excited for her; we’ve spent hours going over all the details over the phone over the past few months. So, making – phone calls, yes, lots of them.
Blogging. Getting back to post-pandemic planning with my medium-sized goals on Wednesday, and musing on a year living in the exurbs (I can’t believe it’s been a whole year) on Friday.
Loving. Did you know that the Duchess of Cornwall has a bookstagram? The handle is duchessofcornwallsreadingroom, and I can’t get enough. Camilla recommends the Cazalet Chronicles, A Gentleman in Moscow, The Secret Commonwealth, Swallows and Amazons – basically, she has impeccable taste. Apparently there’s also a show in which Camilla interviews authors and talks about books? I have to find a way to stream this.
There are 365 of them in a year, and an untold number in a life – days. And as many days as there are, that’s how many cliches there are about them. They’re long, but the years are fast. Saturday and Sunday go too quickly; Monday through Friday drag. And so on and so forth. In the space of a single day, there is plenty of room for all sorts of action – even an ordinary, not particularly eventful, day. I love to read quotidian novels – novels that take place over the course of one day – I love to sink into them and be swept along on the tide of hours as the characters move through their rhythms, living from moment to moment and reminiscing on past experiences and encounters. Here are three favorites:
Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf, is perhaps the definitive quotidian novel. The novel opens in the morning; Clarissa Dalloway is out shopping and planning for a party to take place later that day. As the day unfolds, Mrs. Dalloway reflects on life, marriage, motherhood, and the impending transition from middle to old age. I’d read several Virginia Woolf novels before attempting Mrs. Dalloway, but never felt like I really “got” them. But as I was swept along with Clarissa Dalloway, Woolf finally started to make sense to me, and I found myself absolutely loving the book.
Mollie Panter-Downes’ classic of post-war England, One Fine Day, is as beautifully written, and as captivating, as Mrs. Dalloway. In One Fine Day, the Second World War has just recently ended, and Laura and Stephen Marshall are looking ahead to an uncertain future. As Clarissa Dalloway tremulously confronts the senior years, Laura is similarly tentative in looking ahead to the new post-war world (and there are some poignant meditations on individual aging in One Fine Day, too).
I saved the most fun for last: Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, by Winifred Watson, is pure delight from the first page to the last. When the novel opens, the titular Miss Pettigrew is dispatched from an employment agency to a job interview. An indifferent nanny, Miss Pettigrew is ground down by life and circumstances – but all of that changes, at least for the day, when Miss Pettigrew crosses paths with her potential employer, nightclub singer Delysia LaFosse. Miss LaFosse is a sparkling confection of a person, and Miss Pettigrew finds herself tumbling from scrape to scrape as Miss LaFosse careens through her day – occasionally stopping to pinch herself and reflect that this, indeed, is “Life.” I loved every moment of Miss Pettigrew’s day.
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 May, 2021.
Magpie Murders (Susan Ryeland #1), by Anthony Horowitz – Book editor Susan Ryeland receives a manuscript from her publishing company’s most celebrated author, but it’s missing the final chapter; then the author turns up dead. Susan is convinced there’s a connection, and sets about investigating. I enjoyed this mystery-within-a-mystery just fine, but don’t feel compelled to continue on with the series.
Slightly Foxed No: 69: The Pram in the Hall, ed. Gail Pirkis and Hazel Wood – A new issue of Slightly Foxed is always a treat! This one featured a few books I’d already read (1984 and Cheerful Weather for the Wedding) and one I really want to get to, soon (A Month in the Country).
Rhubarb Rhubarb: A Correspondence Between a Hopeless Gardener and a Hopeful Cook, by Mary Jane Paterson and Jo Thomspon – I blew through this collection of email correspondence in one sitting, and loved every second of it. Thompson is a celebrated garden designer and Paterson a cooking instructor; the two friends share their wit and wisdom with one another in a cheerful and uplifting email exchange. There are gorgeous photographs and illustrations, and I want to make every single one of Mary Jane’s recipes, and try out all of Jo’s gardening tips.
The Geography Reader, Vol. I, by Elinor M. Brent-Dyer – Girls Gone By Publishers has recently issued the second volume of a collection of Elinor Brent-Dyer’s four “geography” novellas – this first volume is out of print but I couldn’t resist tracking it down on Abebooks. This one contains two novellas – one about Australia and one about New Zealand. They’re not particularly eventful plots, but that’s not the intention – the idea, at the time, was to promote the Commonwealth by showcasing the attractions of the different member nations; this is a fun way to do that. I liked the Australia novella a bit better, but both were a lot of fun.
The Last Mrs. Summers (Her Royal Spyness #14), by Rhys Bowen – Another installment in Georgie’s adventures! Lady Georgianna is settling into married life and her new role as mistress of Eynsleigh – a manor house she will inherit from her erstwhile stepfather, Lord Hubert. When Darcy O’Mara is called off to another secret mission, Georgie assuages her boredom and loneliness by accompanying her best friend, Belinda, to inspect a cottage Belinda has recently inherited in Cornwall. Obviously, there is a murder – and Belinda is the prime suspect. There are all kinds of nods to Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, one of my favorite novels, and I loved it.
The Other Bennet Sister, by Janice Hadlow – This doorstopper of a novel imagines Mary Bennet’s life during and after the events of Pride and Prejudice. It was fun, although the writing style took a little getting used to and it was probably 100 pages too long. Still, I enjoyed Mary’s perspective and was rooting for her to find love.
Spring: An Anthology for the Changing Seasons, ed. Melissa Harrison – I loved Winter, and Spring was just as good. Harrison collects historic and recent writings about the season into this beautifully presented paperback volume. I can’t wait to continue on with the rest of the series.
The Guest List, by Lucy Foley – The premise is fun: a group of wedding guests gathers on a remote island to celebrate the nuptials of a popular television actor and a magazine publisher. By the time the wedding festivities are over, someone will be dead. Who is the killer – and who will be the victim? This was a fun, twisty suspense novel, and I didn’t guess the answer! It wasn’t earth-shattering but I did enjoy it.
Mrs. Tim of the Regiment (Mrs. Tim #1), by D.E. Stevenson – I have loved D.E. Stevenson’s novels for years, but somehow did not make my way to Mrs. Tim. Strange, because Hester Christie is probably Stevenson’s most famous character! I finally got around to this one, and loved it. Mrs. Tim’s diary chronicles the joys and travails of life as a British Army officer’s wife – and it’s such a fun read.
Such a Fun Age, by Kiley Reid – This one has been so hyped; probably over-hyped. One fall evening, Alix Chamberlain calls her babysitter, Emira Tucker, and asks Emira to take Alix’s toddler out of the house during a family crisis. Emira brings little Briar to an upscale grocery store to kill time, and is shocked when she is accused of kidnapping the toddler. A bystander films Emira’s interaction with store security – an interaction which ends well, thankfully, but sets off a chain of events that will change Emira’s life as well as Alix’s. This was an engagingly written meditation on race in the age of social media.
The Consequences of Fear (Maisie Dobbs #16), by Jacqueline Winspear – I waited not-so-patiently for my turn with the new Maisie, and my library hold finally came up! Young message runner Freddie Hackett witnesses what appears to be a murder – but there’s no body. The police don’t believe Freddie, but Maisie Dobbs does. Setting about to investigate, Maisie clashes with her contact in the British government, Robbie MacFarlane, and highly-placed Free French officers. Meanwhile, Maisie tries to sort out her personal life, and the United States inches closer to World War II.
Majesty (American Royals #2), by Katharine McGee – This is pure brain candy, but it is fun. The second installment of the American Royals series sees Queen Beatrice, recently installed on the throne as the first Queen Regnant of America, getting ready to marry Lord Teddy Eaton – for convenience and the crown. Meanwhile, Princess Samantha tries to get over her crush on Teddy; Nina Gonzalez has trouble extricating herself from the world of the Washington family; and Daphne Deighton continues to scheme. I do enjoy the American history nuggets buried in these books; they’re no classics, but they’re a good – and a bit silly – way to while away an afternoon
Drawn from Memory, by Ernest H. Shepard – E. H. Shepard’s work is instantly recognizable as the iconic images of Pooh and friends, as well as Mole, Ratty and Toad. His Victorian childhood memoir is liberally sprinkled with charming images of the same style. Shepard describes Victorian Christmas holidays; a gaggle of maiden aunts; racing hansom cabs on his three-wheeled horse; visiting the Pantomime, and so many other charming scenes. I loved it.
Drawn from Life, by Ernest H. Shepard – The second volume of E. H. Shepard’s memoirs begins tragically, with the death of his beloved mother when he is ten years old. The family does eventually come out of their fog of grief, but Shepard writes very honestly that his mother’s death impacted him much more than he realized at the time. Shepard takes us through his years at school, the development of his talents as an artist, and falling in love with a fellow art student. Like in Drawn from Memory, his signature line drawings are sprinkled throughout, enlivening almost every page.
May is a long month, and this is a long book list! There were quite a few highlights this month – including the two E. H. Shepard memoirs, the latest installment in Maisie’s adventures, Rhubarb Rhubarb, and of course, Mrs. Tim! I’m looking ahead to long light evenings of summer reading now.
covered in flour 