Author: Jaclyn

by

It’s the Winter Solstice! What Are You Reading? (December 21, 2020)

Good morning, friends. Solstice blessings to my fellow nature goddessy-types! May the rebirth of the sun bring warmth and joy to your homes. How are you welcoming the light this Midwinter?

First things first: for those of you keeping score at home, I still do not have a dishwasher. Remember how we were supposed to get our dishwasher delivered, finally, last Saturday? And the delivery company no-call-no-showed us? So we rescheduled for this Thursday? Yeah, about that. They did show up, but they showed up with a dishwasher that was so badly dented the door wouldn’t close. Then in the process of removing our old burnt one, they broke our water and the only way to fix it was to “install” the non-functional new unit. So now I have a dishwasher that is just a cube of useless metal and plastic in my kitchen. I guess that’s a marginal improvement over the smoked-out ruin, but I’m still hand-washing everything and eating off of paper plates. And the dishwasher our landlord selected is backordered – of course – so we won’t get a new one until January. How very 2020, right?

Anyway. The rest of the weekend was a slight improvement over the burning, howling rage that was Thursday, but that’s not saying much. I had big plans for a productive weekend and I did reasonably well, although I didn’t get to everything I wanted to do. My top-priority “A” goals were to finish organizing the guest bedroom and wrap and package up the gifts that have to be mailed (just Rebecca, my brother and sister-in-law, and my friend Susan this year). I did get to both of those, and I cleaned the dining room, finished my Christmas shopping, and got started on wrapping Steve’s and the kids’ gifts. So – not bad! I didn’t make my “reach” goal of a completely clean house and soaking in a reward bubble bath by Sunday evening, but I sort of knew that was a long shot. It’s hard to have a really productive weekend when someone interrupts you every five minutes to ask for a snack or a water bottle, but I got done what I really needed to do. And we even made it out for a hike on Sunday, although that was kind of a bust – the kids dragged their feet, lagged behind us bickering, fell in the mud and were generally unruly and unmanageable, so we ended up having to cut our hike short. Womp, womp. Seeing as our weekly trail time is pretty much the only thing that keeps me sane, that doesn’t bode well going into Christmas week.

Reading. Slowed down on the reading speed this week – busy, tired, and fell into the doomscrolling trap a bit. Oh, and there was one night of hours-long phone conversations, first with my mom and then with my mom’s BFF (who is basically my second mom) – no regrets on that front! When I did read, I read good stuff. Spent most of the week over Silent Nights, which was a lot of fun. As with all short-story collections – I say this every time – there were hits and misses. But on balance, it was great! The weekend was mostly devoted to The Twelve Birds of Christmas, which FINALLY arrived, yay! What a fun and fascinating book. I finally finished it up on Sunday evening, and spent the rest of the night with Winter Solstice. I timed it so I’d be reading it on the actual solstice, so I’m feeling pretty pleased with myself.

Watching. We’d gotten behind on The Mandalorian, so we’re catching up now – just the season finale to go. My high school BFF’s husband recently wrote on Facebook that The Mandalorian is the Star Wars content he’s always wanted – and I have to agree. It’s exciting, pacey, diverse, and the content feels really fresh (I liked the new Star Wars movies as much as everyone, but they did seem to repeat the plot points from the original trilogy). We have enjoyed every episode and they just seem to get better and better.

Listening. The usual mix. The highlight was the “A Christie for Christmas” episode of Shedunnit (that show is SO good, you guys), but I also loved a warm and validating episode of The Mom Hour about guilt-free opting out of holiday-related mom pressure. And I mixed in some music; I just needed some heart-pounding bass. Some R.E.M., some New Pornographers. (Side note: I do wish they had a different name. They’re one of my favorite bands – not quite up to Decemberists level, but close. But I can’t bring myself to say “New Pornographers” in front of the family, even though there’s nothing at all inappropriate about their music, so I call them “A.C. Newman and Neko Case” – after the lead singing duo.)

Making. The best making of the week was a few good shots of a new winter visitor to our backyard nyjer feeder – a white-throated sparrow! As I said when I emailed the pictures to my mom, mother-in-law, aunt and family friend, I’ve seen enough house sparrows to last me a lifetime but these country sparrows are welcome at my feeders anytime. This one was a new bird for my life list, which is always exciting. In other making news, I made the usual piles and piles of work product (despite feeling a combination of overwhelmed and unappreciated, which is a bad combination). Also made a cleaned-out guest room, a dent in my Christmas wrapping, and a really delicious slow-simmered beefless (made with Gardein) stew on Sunday evening. Yum.

Moving. Ha! So I do have something to report! In addition to our abortive hike on Sunday, I did manage to squeeze several workouts into my busy week of brief-writing. No outdoor runs: we had what passes for a snowstorm in D.C. earlier in the week, and my already-hilly neighborhood is currently a skating rink. Between the icy conditions and the cars that go screaming down my street, I was scared to run. (Steve did make it out for a few runs; he’s braver than me.) I hit the treadmill, though! Back before the pandemic, I had joined Peloton. I had no intention of buying a $3,500 exercise bike (and still don’t) but my office gym had one, so I figured I could ride it. But before I figured out how to lower the seat, COVID happened and we all got sent home for the duration. So I let my Peloton “membership” languish – until I recently realized that they have other workouts available and re-upped my membership last week. So far I’ve done a HIIT treadmill workout and a holiday-themed cardio bootcamp. I’m a little embarrassed to admit how much fun it is.

Blogging. I promised you a more positive week this week, and I will deliver! Good-news stories from 2020 on Wednesday, and the final tally of my Christmas-themed reading for the month on Friday (before I move on to reading all those books I’m hoping Santa will deliver – I’ve been a very good girl this year!). Check in with me then…

Loving. You know what has been giving me life lately? The proliferation of warm, positive, and validating posts on social media (I know, right?) as this ridiculous year winds down. Everyone from Sisters Village (one of my favorite astrology follows) to Adirondack hiking accounts I follow is coming up with a variation of this message: it’s okay if you didn’t reach every goal this year; it’s okay if you don’t feel much in the holiday spirit; it’s okay if you want to hang your twinkle lights eight weeks early; it’s okay if you don’t want to hang twinkle lights at all; it’s okay if you’re not really okay – you’re alive, you’re here. I think we’re all in this space right now of feeling like we’re killing it, pandemic-style, some days and wanting to hide in the closet with the boxed wine other days. (No? Just me?) I don’t need the internet to tell me it’s okay that I am all over the place right now. But I sure am glad the message has shifted from the screechy LET’S MAKE MEMORIES AND ENJOY THIS BONUS FAMILY TIME from back in March to December’s hey, things are not good and you can have those feelings and it’s valid. Bit of a downer? Not intentional. Sorry.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

by

Missing the Mom Tribe

The other night I was laying awake, turning over a thorny strategy problem for work when I should have been asleep, and suddenly out of nowhere I was hit with a memory from over a year ago – followed by another wave of sadness at everything the pandemic has taken from us.

Nugget’s best bud has an October birthday. He didn’t have a party this year – obviously – but in 2019 his mom (my friend Helena) threw him a farm birthday, complete with goat petting and a hayride. Nugget, who is here for anything involving vehicles, was one of the first onto the wagon; gotta secure that money spot with a good view of the tractor, right? I followed him up, and behind me came his pal A. A was as stoked as the other little guys until he saw his mom, my friend Meredith, waving from the grass. She was sitting out the hayride in order to feed A’s baby brother.

A’s lip started to tremble and I could see the tears welling up, so I patted my lap and motioned to him to come up. “Want to sit with me?” I asked him. A nodded tremulously and climbed onto my knee. Nugget immediately clambered onto my other knee. I put an arm around each of them, cuddled them close, and dropped a kiss on top of each blond mop head, and the tractor pulled out, towing us behind.

A and Nugget stayed planted in my lap for the entire hayride. When the tractor rolled back to the parking area, Meredith was waiting. A popped off my lap and rushed to his mom. Picking him up, she thanked me for holding him on the hayride.

“I enjoyed it,” I assured her. “He was very snuggly.”

She laughed. “He can be!” (I knew just what she meant. Those preschool boys are like puppies – running around wild, rolling on top of each other, roughhousing and jumping on the furniture and piling all over one another one moment, then cuddling up in your lap the next.)

I’m not sure why this memory came back so vividly the other night. But it drove home another thing that I am missing: my mom tribe. With a few exceptions, I never really connected with the other moms in Peanut’s class, especially after we moved home to Virginia. But Nugget ran in a herd with a gaggle of boys in his preschool class, and the moms ended up drawn to one another, too. We clustered together at back-to-school nights, birthday parties, Thanksgiving picnics and holiday concerts. We arranged play dates and openly shared frustrations and triumphs – and it fostered a bond of trust. I thought nothing of scooping Meredith’s little guy up and comforting him when I saw storm clouds starting to gather; she’d have done the same for me if I had to sit out a hayride and Nugget started to tear up.

There’s been so much talk about the connections we’re all missing during these long months of pandemic. The strong connections – grandparents not able to hug grandchildren, siblings missing out on family gatherings, dear friends unable to see each other for months. And the weak connections – that barista who knows just how to make your favorite morning drink, the favorite yoga instructor or peewee swim teacher, the supply room guy who always makes sure to stock your favorite snacks and pens at work. But there’s a middle level of connection, and I think I might miss that most.

I’ve had a few moments of those middle connections with the mom tribe during pandemic-times. Hiking in Rock Creek Park with my law school BFF Carly, her daughter, and Nugget. Peanut and her bestie stomping in a clear creek while my pal Rachel and I chatted as hard as we could through our face masks. Doling out marshmallows to Nugget and his best buddy as Helena and I stood around a backyard bonfire, catching up on school gossip and reminiscing about our college days (we were both at Cornell in the early 2000s and have a handful of friends in common, although we didn’t meet until our sons bonded at school). But those connections are few and far between lately, and I miss them more than I’d realized. Having those trusted friends who you can count on to pick up your baby, kiss an owie if you’re looking the other way when it happens, remember who has a nut allergy, make sure your kiddo has his goodie bag – that’s surprisingly huge. Not having that is a sort of bereavement.

Just another thing COVID has taken from us, hopefully not forever.

Do you miss those middle connections too?

by

Festive, Not Festivus

Let’s be real: if there was ever a year to go all-in on Festivus, it’s 2020, right? I feel like we all could get particular satisfaction out of the airing of grievances. I’ve got a lotta problems with you this year.

But, BUT, I’m trying to be positive here. Trying to overlook the fact that there’s a global pandemic, a seemingly hopelessly divided country, and – in my house, at least – so much backtalk and rudeness, and so little listening or cooperation. While we try to figure out what Christmas is going to look like this year, a look back at happier times.

It’s lucky I took so many pictures of fresh holiday wreaths on our traditional Old Town Christmas walk last year.

I am taking it on faith that Santa did, in fact, roll through Little Washington this year.

Our Christmas tree has already stopped taking on water, so I think we’ll definitely be back at the cut-your-own farm next year. It’s not pressing the easy button if your roadside stand tree becomes a fire hazard by mid-December.

Squeezing into a little room with hundreds of strangers was not in the cards this year, but maybe next year we’ll be back at the U.S. Botanic Garden’s holiday trains display. Hopefully without getting stomach bugs, like we did two – or was it three? – years ago. Come to think of it, maybe this is a holiday tradition that should stay in the past.

Join the Dark Side. We have eggnog.

This is the first time in four years that we have skipped our girls’ theatre date for Christmas. I miss this tradition. Next year I’m pulling out all the stops and taking Peanut to the fanciest Nutcracker performance in town. Unless I have to spend all of my money sending her to military school, which is a distinct possibility at this point.

Onward to our socially distanced, bubble-centric holiday, with hopes for a merrier Christmas in 2021.

Are you also missing pre-pandemic holiday traditions this year? How young is too young for military school?

by

It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (December 14, 2020)

Late post this morning – sorry. Last week was a doozy, the weekend was a doozy, and this week ahead is looking like a doozy. (In other news, I am submitting my application to the Guinness Book of World Records for most over-use of the word “doozy.”) On Saturday, I had big plans to get stuff done around the house. We were staying home all day because we were expecting our new dishwasher delivery after a month of eating off paper plates and hand-washing everything. I spent the morning folding and putting away laundry, cleaning out the linen closet, and organizing the guest bedroom storage situation in anticipation of delivery of some new closet organizers I am expecting today. I felt productive, which was the good news, but the bad news was we were totally ghosted by the dishwasher delivery people. No dishwasher, no call. Steve reached them this morning and they were mildly apologetic but won’t be delivering until Thursday – six days after they were supposed to come, and that’s if they don’t no-call-no-show us again – and no plans to make it right with us. To say I’m unhappy about this would be an understatement.

Anyway, since Saturday didn’t turn out like I expected – ending the day with a completely clean house, including kitchen – Sunday wasn’t the relaxing day I had planned either. I had some work to do, so I powered through that. We did manage to get out for a hike in one of our favorite bird-watching spots over in Leesburg, and saw MORE Eastern Bluebirds and a new-to-me (as yet unidentified, though) kind of sparrow. It was nice to get fresh air and move my feet after a long week of work and house frustration.

Reading. It might have been a slightly lousy week in general, but it was a good – and very festive – reading week. And also very symmetrical, apparently: two commonplace selections; two collections of holiday-themed short stories; and two mysteries. Well, one of the mysteries is also a collection of holiday-themed short stories, but you get my drift. Christmas spirit is in short supply around here, so I’m taking it wherever I can get it, and my reading evenings with a flickering candle and the lighted Christmas tree are keeping me going these days.

Watching. It was actually a very good watching week as well. We’ve been gradually making our way through the recent seasons of Rick Steves’ Europe as a family, and they are both lovely and sad-making, since we can’t travel anywhere right now (stoopid pandemic). On Sunday, Steve and I cuddled up on the couch and watched Rick Steves’ European Christmas (my request) while the kids engaged in some kind of ultimate fighting championship in the playroom. They did take breaks to come out and tell us they hate us, so that was not the best. I also spent a relaxing hour or so catching up on Miranda Mills’ festive content on YouTube.

Listening. Made my way through a few back episodes of Tea or Books? on my podcatcher while folding laundry and sorting through guest room detritus. The usual.

Making. Piles of work product, progress on Christmas shopping (but not wrapping), mailed-out Christmas cards, a clean linen closet, the beginnings of plans for next spring’s garden. (Do hollyhocks bloom the first year? The internet can’t make up its mind.)

Moving. Oof. It was not a good week. Other than accompanying Nugget on a kids’ run on Monday, nothing. 55-hour workweeks are not conducive to taking care of me. This is a recurring problem, clearly.

Blogging. Sharing some festive pictures from past holiday seasons on Wednesday, since Advent fun is thin on the ground this year. And musing on missing my mom tribe on Friday. Check in with me if you’d like, and I promise happier content next week. This is just where I am right now.

Loving. My Provencal pottery ornaments, which I bought in Gigondas back in 2010, have been missing for years. Every time I’ve decorated my tree in recent Christmases, I’ve lamented their loss. But guess what turned up in this most recent move? I’m delighted to have them back, and of all the ornaments on my tree, they are giving me the most joy – reminding me of a time when Steve and I were able to travel and stock up on experiences and memories. And they are also giving me hope, that I will find myself back in France someday.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

by

Themed Reads: A Very Murdery Christmas

What is it about Christmas that makes people so particularly bloodthirsty? Is it all the extra relatives in the house (unless it’s 2020, of course)? The intimidating spikes on the ends of a mistletoe leaf? The inhibition-destroying effects of boozy eggnog? The bloody sheen of holly berries on death-pale snow? Okay, I’m creeping myself out now, so I’ll stop. But Christmas is undeniably fertile ground for mystery writers from the Queen of Crime, Dame Agatha Christie (Hercule Poirot’s Christmas) to lesser-known Golden Age mystery writers (like the contributors to British Library Crime Classics’ Silent Nights and Crimson Snow collections) and modern-day writers like Alan Bradley (I am Half Sick of Shadows). Whatever it is about Christmas, there seems to be plenty of shadow under those twinkle lights.

Any Golden Age crime reader these days is familiar with the British Library Crime Classics series – which is growing too fast for me to keep up with these days. The Santa Klaus Murder, by Mavis Doriel Hay, is a particularly fun entry, especially at this time of year. An unpopular, but rich, old gentleman is found murdered in his library, by a guest dressed as Father Christmas, and things only get weirder from there. There are a few obvious twists, one of which is revealed on the back cover (why???) but it’s good fun. You’ll never look at a Santa costume the same way again.

Another country-house-at-Christmas murder mystery, Georgette Heyer’s A Christmas Party is fun and frothy – or at least, as fun and frothy as a crime novel can be. All of the classic holiday-themed Christmas mystery tropes are here: a snowstorm that isolates all of the possible suspects in a house together; several red herrings; lots of family secrets. Good stuff all around.

For a more modern take on the Christmas murder mystery, look no further than Louise Penny, who contributes A Fatal Grace – the second installment in her popular Armand Gamache series. It’s an interesting twist on the locked room trope: CC de Poitiers, the unpopular murder victim – query: is the murder victim ever not unpopular? – is electrocuted in the middle of a frozen lake, during a curling competition as the entire village looks on. I guessed the identity of the killer fairly quickly, but while the who was obvious, only Chief Inspector Gamache can figure out the how. Also, crossing curling off my list of sports to try.

Does Christmas make you bloodthirsty? Any holiday-themed murder mystery recommendations for me?

by

My Outdoor Gear Pet Peeve

It’s true that the only thing you really need in order to spend time outside is yourself.  Walk out the door, maybe find a park, and you’re in business.  (There are access to outdoors issues, which are very real and urgent, but that’s not what this post is about.)  But it’s also true that the more you get into outdoor sports – be that hiking, kayaking, climbing, snowsports, or something else – the more you might get interested in gearing up.  And it’s an inescapable fact that certain gear makes the outdoor experience more pleasant.  A hike is more fun if you’ve got good boots and you’re not rolling your ankle every five steps in your sneakers.  Basically, if you’re into outdoor sports, you could find yourself at your preferred outdoor retailer from time to time.  How many time-to-times depends on your budget.

I’m pretty responsible about my budget, but I hear the siren call of REI from time to time.  And when I do find myself either browsing the website or standing in front of a display at my local co-op (or the D.C. flagship), I have a pet peeve.

I hate all that girly crap.

There, I said it!  What drives me crazy more than anything else is when I am trying to buy women’s-specific gear and I am stuck deciding between pink, purple, and aqua/teal or powder blue.  How about none of the above?

The first time I really thought about this was when I was buying a life jacket, a couple of years ago.  We had been renting kayaks more often, and I was sick of swimming (please appreciate the pun) in ill-fitting PFDs.  When Steve asked me what I wanted for Mother’s Day, I said I wanted a women’s life preserver.  Something that was designed for women, that would fit right and not ride up.  Shouldn’t be hard, right?

I did extensive google research and decided that I should probably try on a few different options.  So one lunch break, I hopped on Metro – these were pre-COVID days – and ran over to the REI DC flagship store in NoMA.  I had a hunch I was going to end up with the Stohlquist Flo, but I wanted to try them all.  I spent an hour with a sales consultant, taking life jackets on and off, zipping and cinching and pretending to paddle, and concluded – Flo it is, just like I thought.  Then I asked about color choices.  And it turned out my options were purple and… purple.

“This style used to be available in orange, right?” I asked.  “Do you maybe have one in the back?”

No.  Purple.  And purple.

At the end of the day, I wanted a life jacket that fit me properly.  I wanted something that was going to keep me comfortable for hours on the water – we were planning our five-day kayak trip to the Salish Sea, and I hoped there would be more multi-day paddling trips in our future.  The Stohlquist Flo was perfect in every respect, except for the grape color.  I gritted my teeth and bought it.

(Worth noting: it’s a great PFD.  I’ve had it for two paddling seasons now and I love the way it fits.  And recently as I was walking down the steps onto the dock at one of the DC boathouses, another paddler stopped me and started gushing: “I have that life jacket too!  It’s the best!”  This has also happened to me with my Oboz hiking boots.  Women’s outdoor gear tends to create something of a sisterhood of devotees.)

(Here’s a piece of outdoor gear I love: my Werner Camano kayak paddle, in the “Mount Baker” design, which makes me smile every time I use it – especially now that I can say I have paddled in the shadow of Mount Baker.)

I tend to be drawn to colors that would today be considered gender-neutral.  All my adult life, my favorite color has been green.  I like blue and orange, too – colors found abundantly in nature.  (And before you @ me, I know about flowers and sunsets; I know that pink and purple can be seen in the natural world, too.)  And it drives me crazy that I can’t have both a piece of gear that is designed specifically for women and also… let’s say… a nice, calm navy blue.

I was reminded of this recently while shopping around for new trekking poles.  I don’t have any immediate plans to replace my (teal, of course) trekking poles.  But they are getting on in years, and they’re starting to slip around a bit.  It may not be time for new ones yet, but it will be eventually.  So I mentioned to Steve that new trekking poles would be a good gift idea for a birthday or Christmas down the road (but not too far down the road) and that when that day came, I’d like a pair of Leki poles.

Why Leki? he asked.

Well, a couple reasons, I told him.  One, I have not been impressed with some of the political stances taken by the company that makes the poles I have currently.  Two, I grew up using Leki ski poles and always liked them.  So: Leki, I said, that’s what I want.

Steve likes to get a link to a gift idea, so a few weeks later I popped over to the REI website to look for options.  There were two – count ’em, two – pairs of women’s hiking poles made by Leki, and only one was the telescoping style I like.  The color?  “Blue/Berry.”  A nice deep blue background, and a cork and white handle.  Yay!  But then they had to go and splash magenta accents up and down the poles.  Why?

(^If only Nugget’s trekking poles came in adult size.)

I’ll probably end up putting the “Blue/Berry” Leki poles on my Christmas list, or asking for them for an upcoming Mother’s Day.  Everything except the magenta accents is on point.

On one level, yes, there are bigger problems in the world than not being able to get a life jacket that isn’t purple, or trekking poles that aren’t pink.  But on the other hand… I do think it’s symptomatic of a world that is still too gender-normative, that it’s hard for women to find gear that is designed for our bodies, but that isn’t shoving socially gendered colors and patterns down our throats.  I’m a heterosexual, cis woman – my gender identity aligns with what is considered traditional in my social environment – who just happens to prefer orange and green to purple and pink.  I can wear a purple PFD, sure.  But what about a person who wants properly fitted gear but is harmed by gender constructs?  Doesn’t that person deserve to have a PFD – or a bike, or trekking poles, or any other piece of gear –  that fits them correctly but that doesn’t scream “lady adventurer”?

And if purple and pink is your jam, no shade!  You do you.  I guess what I’m saying is… wouldn’t it be nice if there were enough options so that we could all feel comfortable and joyful?

Just something to think about, outdoor brands.  Just something to think about.  And now I’m off to surf the web looking for an orange mountain bike that is both my size and also not for little boys.

by

It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (December 7, 2020)

You guys. We made it to December. I’m not celebrating the fact that 2020 is almost over, though. Have you noticed that every year starting with 2016 has been worse than the one that came before? Part of me wants to shout from the rooftops, SMELL YA LATER 2020, DON’T LET THE DOOR HIT YOU ON THE WAY OUT, but tbh I’m concerned about what 2021 may bring if I do that. So I’ll just quietly whisper (tiny voice) we made it to December, y’all.

I had a busy workweek and was kind of looking forward to a relaxing, chill weekend, but – well, you know me. I just don’t do that sort of thing. On Saturday we were out the door for Nugget’s swim lesson: Peanut is done for the year. Both kids were supposed to go through December 19, but with our COVID numbers going through the roof Steve and I had a long talk about whether the kids should continue with swimming. I felt strongly that being able to swim is so huge for safety – and I think it’s fun and want them to enjoy it – and Nugget in particular has made major strides in getting over some fear he was dealing with last year; I didn’t want to finish early. But the numbers are undeniably terrifying. In the end we compromised: we pulled Peanut out because there are eight kids in her class, but we are letting Nugget finish out the season because he is the only one in his class. He had a great lesson, then we headed home for lunch and rolled right back out to hit a local vintage market and farmstand a few minutes from our house, for this year’s Christmas tree. We thought about driving out to Middleburg to cut our own like in 2018, but in the end we decided, it’s 2020, let’s just do the easy thing. Peanut picked the tree, it was trimmed up and loaded on the car, and we were home in less than half an hour. Nothing to it. Spent Saturday evening blasting Christmas carols, eating party snacks and decorating the tree – a tradition.

We had no plans on Sunday. I had some vague ideas about cleaning out the guest bedroom or organizing the family bookshelves, but in the end I just loafed around the house – other than a brief family hike at one of the local parks. No exciting bird sightings on the hike, but we notched two new-to-us species in the front yard: brown creeper and yellow-bellied sapsucker. And I think I may have seen a northern flicker, but I didn’t get a good enough look to say for sure.

Reading. Season’s Readings! (Sorry. Had to do it.) It’s been a mostly-Christmassy week here. I started the week off with the rest of The Folio Book of Christmas Crime Stories. As with any short story collection, there were hits and there were misses – but overall it was a lot of fun. Moved on to Village Christmas: And Other Notes on the English Year, by Laurie Lee. Contrary to what the title and the wintry cover scene would have you believe, it’s not really about Christmas. There’s a little Christmas in the beginning (mostly the caroling and winter scenes from Cider with Rosie) but it’s just a small part of the book. I suspected this, based on the subtitle. Still good! It’s Laurie Lee, after all. Then I set aside the traditional Christmas books (or deceptively non-Christmas, as the case may be) to whip through the latest issue of Slightly Foxed, which arrived midweek and sat temptingly on my coffee table from Thursday on. Really enjoyed this one – especially the last essay, about writers’ superstitions and talismans. Finally! Ended the weekend with some Trollope: Christmas at Thompson Hall and Other Stories. Trollope is never the wrong choice, right?

Watching. The usual this-and-that. A few episodes of Rick Steves’ Europe, The Great Festive Bake-Off, and The Mandalorian. I told Steve that I am having a love-hate relationship with the Rick Steves shows right now. On the one hand, it’s Rick Steves, so how could it be anything but great? But on the other hand, I am decidedly pouty as I sit on my couch, in the butt divot I’ve been working on since March, watching Rick travel to all the places that I can’t go. STOOPID COVID.

Listening. Still working on podcast back episodes. A few episodes from the Tea or Books archive. I was delighted to find that Simon and Rachel found Marilynne Robinson’s When I Was a Child I Read Books as opaque and incomprehensible as I did. That made me feel less stupid for not understanding any of it!

Making. Not much – once again. The usual piles and piles of work product. It was kind of a crappy week on the work front, but I guess that didn’t stop me from churning it out. Curse my Type A work ethic. In nicer news, I made a decorated Christmas tree, and lots of yummy snacks to enjoy while we hung ornaments – including a “cheesmas tree” inspired by Lavender and Lovage, old family classic artichoke dip, and bourbon-soaked fruitcake cookies.

Moving. I thought about “forgetting” this category this week, because I really was not on it. Just one hike and a lot of pacing around while on work phone calls. No running, no barre, no strength training, no yoga. No fun. Must do better next week – I deserve better.

Blogging. In time for holiday shopping season, I am sharing my outdoor gear pet peeve on Wednesday. And then December’s edition of Themed Reads on Friday. I’m excited about this one, so do check in then.

Loving. Is it trite to say I am loving my Christmas tree? Guys, it’s just been such a long pandemic. Twinkle lights lift the spirit, and I really need that right now. I am loving having the tree right next to my bookshelves, having my space bedazzled by tiny white lights, and looking at all my favorite ornaments – pottery ornaments picked up on my travels; National Parks ornaments; sloppy homemade kiddo contributions; nods to Cornell and Jane Austen and paddlesports – all of my favorite things, basically. It is bringing me such joy. And yes, come December 27 I will be googling “where to compost Christmas tree near me” but these two things are not mutually exclusive. Twinkle on, friends!

Asking. What are you reading this week?

by

My Christmas 2020 Reading List

In a month that is crammed full of tradition from start to finish, one of my favorite traditions is my own personal practice of reading Christmas books every evening – ideally by the light of a Christmas tree. I don’t have the tree yet (getting it tomorrow, I think!) but I’m already deep into the twinkly reading. I never manage to make it through my entire Christmas shelf in a single holiday season, but I sure do have fun trying. Here’s what’s on my Christmas 2020 reading agenda:

  • The Folio Book of Christmas Crime Stories, by various authors. I’ve already started this one! It’s a fun collection of short stories from the golden age of crime, featuring Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, and other famous names – as well as a few new-to-me authors.
  • Village Christmas: And Other Notes on the English Year, by Laurie Lee. I wanted to read this one last year, but couldn’t find it. When it turned up during unpacking from our recent move, I made sure to secure it safely on the Christmas shelf.
  • Winter Solstice, by Rosamund Pilcher. Another one I wanted to read last year – in the case of Winter Solstice, I just didn’t get around to it. This year!
  • Round the Christmas Fire, by various authors. Another one that was missing, and turned up in the move. Who can resist a volume of Christmas stories from Charles Dickens, Nancy Mitford, and everyone in between?
  • Christmas Crackers, Volume I, by John Julius Norwich – Last year, I read Norwich’s hilarious The Twelve Days of Christmas (and I’ll probably re-read it this year; it takes about 20 minutes and is an absolute riot). But I’ve also been wanting to dive into Norwich’s commonplace books, which he called Christmas Crackers. There are literally decades of them, but I’m planning to tackle the 1970s this year.
  • A Country Doctor’s Commonplace Book, by Philip Rhys Evans, and An Englishman’s Commonplace Book, by Roger Hudson – More commonplace books! Country Doctor has been a Christmas Day tradition of mine since Slightly Foxed published it two years ago, and Englishman is a new addition to the library this year. I’m eagerly anticipating both!
  • Christmas at Thompson Hall, and Other Stories, by Anthony Trollope – Yet another one that was missing, and turned up in the move. I love Trollope and have been carefully rationing his novels; this will tide me over until I get around to the next installment in the Chronicles of Barchester.
  • The Twelve Birds of Christmas, by Stephen Moss – Unpictured, because it’s not here yet – my copy is winging its way (see what I did there?) to me from England as I write this. I loved Moss’s book about English bird names, Mrs. Moreau’s Warbler, and I’ve had my eye on his bird “biographies” for many months now, so I’m excited to read this when it arrives.
  • Silent Nights: Christmas Stories, edited by Martin Edwards – There’s nothing like a little murder at Christmas, am I right? The British Library Crime Classics series includes several entries set at and around Christmas, and this collection of golden age crime stories looks great.
  • Crimson Snow: Christmas Stories, edited by Martin Edwards – Another volume of stories from the British Library Crime Classics – I may not get to this; we’ll see.
  • Portrait of a Murderer, by Anne Meredith – One more BL Crime Classic! I doubt I’ll make it through all of these, of course, but they’re ready and waiting on the shelf.

Well, this is some list, right?! And this isn’t even my entire Christmas shelf. I think it’s extremely unlikely I’ll make it through all of these (although you never know). What I do know is that it’s looking like a very good month of reading ahead.

What do you like to read to celebrate the holiday season?

by

Reading Round-Up: November 2020

Reading Round-Up Header

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 November, 2020:

Slightly Foxed No. 67: A Separate World, ed. Gail Pirkis & Hazel Wood – It’s always a pleasure to curl up with the latest issue of Slightly Foxed (bonus points for a cup of tea to go along with it) and this one was no exception. I particularly enjoyed the article about the latest Slightly Foxed Edition, Jessica Mitford’s Hons and Rebels. (I already own a copy, so won’t be buying it – but I’m inspired to pick it up off my shelf sooner than later.)

High Wages, by Dorothy Whipple – Dorothy Whipple continues to deliver the goods! I really enjoyed her first novel, a story of a young shopgirl with a head for business. Fully reviewed here.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, by Anne Bronte – This was a re-read for me, and I loved it as much as I did the first time I read it, years ago. Anne Bronte might be the least-known of the three Bronte sisters, but Tenant is possibly the most revolutionary of their collective bibliography – the story of a woman hiding from an abusive husband in a time when that was just not done, it’s unabashedly feminist. Fully reviewed here.

A Study in Scarlet (Sherlock Holmes #1), by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle – I was feeling a pull to 221B Baker Street, and wanting to read the great detective’s origin story, so I pulled A Study in Scarlet off my shelf. Bit of an oddball story, but fun to finally get to the first appearance of Holmes.

Going Solo (Roald Dahl’s Memoirs #2), by Roald Dahl – I skipped the first volume of Dahl’s memoirs, Boy, having no desire to read about the real-life versions of the atrocious adults from his fiction. (Imaginary Trunchbull is quite bad enough.) But I was in the mood for adventure, and Dahl’s memoir of his young adulthood as a Shell Oil employee in Dar-es-Salaam, followed by his days as a fighter pilot in World War II, was captivating. (“Simba” was my favorite chapter, but really every page was exciting and wild.)

The Grand Tour: Around the World with the Queen of Mystery, by Agatha Christie, with Mathew Prichard – Still in the mood for adventure after blowing through Going Solo, I picked up a book that’s been lingering on my TBR for too long. In the early 1920s, Agatha Christie and her first husband, Archie, embarked on a trip around the world as part of the British Empire Exhibition. The Grand Tour collects the letters she wrote home during the epic voyage, along with Christie’s own photographs from the trip, and is edited by the Queen of Crime’s grandson, Mathew Prichard. It was a fun glimpse into a vanished world, and good for scratching the armchair travel itch during COVID-times.

A Promised Land, by Barack Obama – I pre-ordered President Obama’s memoir (part one!!) and it arrived on release day, and I almost immediately dove in. A Promised Land was a perfect combination of insider political baseball, fun anecdotes, and introspective musings about the most consequential moments of President Obama’s administration (through spring 2011; the remainder of his time in office will be addressed in the second volume). I loved every minute, but I also kind of hated it, because it brought back memories of when we had a President with not only the ability to string three words together, but the capacity and inclination to be thoughtful and considered in his decisions, and who put the country before his own interests… sigh. Those were the days. Is it January 20, 2021 yet?

Persuasion, by Jane Austen – Another re-read, a good one for fall. Persusasion is one of my favorites of Austen’s novels (to the extent that one can have a favorite; they’re all wonderful) but it had been years since I visited Kellynch and Uppercross and Camden-place. I blew through it in a day, but what a day – walking the gravel walk in Bath with Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth is always such a joy.

Piranesi, by Susanna Clarke – Since Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell came out more than fourteen years ago, I’d pretty much given up on another novel from Susanna Clarke (although I did enjoy her short story collection, The Ladies of Grace Adieu). So naturally I snapped up Piranesi when it was released and I happened to luck into a copy at my favorite indie bookstore, Old Town Books. It was good, well-written and interestingly plotted, but I didn’t enjoy it as much as Jonathan Strange, nor as much as I’d expected to. A solid three stars, and it’ll stay on my shelf, but I can’t imagine I’ll hanker for a re-read anytime soon.

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, by Winifred Watson – I’ve been meaning to meet Miss Pettigrew for years now, and what took me so long? Another one that I blew through in a day, and I loved it. Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day is a quotidian novel of an impoverished nursery maid who reports for a job interview and finds herself swept into a world of nightclubs, cocktails, and romance. Other than one or two instances of dated opinions, it was a joy from the first page to the last, and I’ll be re-reading it soon.

What a month of reading! I’m not even sure I can pick a highlight. President Obama’s memoir (which I’ve been awaiting for years, like so many others) was absolutely wonderful. High Wages and Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day were delightful confections, Going Solo and The Grand Tour were full of adventure and fun, and Tenant and Persuasion were wonderful as ever. I’ve moved on to my Christmas reading now, but November was a banner month in books, indeed.

by

It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (November 30, 2020)

Blah. Good morning. How were your weekends? American readers, how was Thanksgiving? It was good to have a few extra days off work, wasn’t it? I was mostly able to turn the work brain off (mostly) but Sunday Scaries struck hard; I am really up against it this week. Work anxiety notwithstanding, we did have fun. Thanksgiving was low-key; between COVID and the lack of a dishwasher we were very quiet; just a prepared foods feast from Wegmans this year. I was sad, because my one consolation for not seeing my family this year was going to be cooking Thanksgiving dinner – one of my favorite meals to prepare. But without a dishwasher, we didn’t want to dirty all of those dishes. So I ended up just re-heating things, mostly. Well, it still tasted good.

Other than Thanksgiving, we got out for a few hikes – on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. Two visits to Riverbend Park and one to Lake Burke. The Lake Burke hike was super stressful; the kids were right on the edge with their behavior, the trails were crowded, and hardly anyone was wearing masks. We were edgy the whole time. The rest of the weekend was chill. I folded laundry and cleaned the dining room, read a lot, and got in a couple of good runs in the neighborhood.

Reading. It was a hell of a week in books! I guess this is what I do when I have a long weekend off work and no travel plans. I finished A Promised Land midweek (at 701 pages of dense recent Presidential history, it was a time commitment), then blew through Persuasion, Piranesi, and Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day in one day each. I asked Nugget if he thought I should move on to Christmas books or squeeze in one more book before I hit the holiday shelf, and he voted Christmas, so I pulled out The Folio Book of Christmas Crime Stories to open the season’s readings. Here’s to a little murder for Christmas!

Watching. Lots of good stuff – the Macy’s Day Parade on Thanksgiving Day, of course! Then the first half of my favorite holiday movie – Miracle on 34th Street (the original version, not the remake!) – before the kids fell asleep. As for the rest of the week, it was the usual hodgepodge: some Rick Steves’ Europe, the season finale of The Great British Bake-Off, and the latest Mandalorian. I think we’re going to watch the holiday special Bake-Off episodes next!

Listening. More of the same – lots of podcasts. Highlights were a couple of back episodes of Shedunnit and a Mayflower-themed episode of You’re Dead to Me, a hilarious history podcast. Seemed appropriate for Thanksgiving week!

Making. Well… work product, mostly. It was one of those weeks, and it’s going to be another of those weeks ahead. There was some re-heating, so I guess that counts? I did baste the Field Roast a few times, so that’s something. And I made some maple-roasted squash and root veggies, the one Thanksgiving dish I actually prepared rather than just re-heating.

Moving. The usual! Hike, run, hike, run. A virtual turkey trot in the neighborhood on Thanksgiving Day, a four-miler on Sunday, and several miles on the local trails. Can’t beat it! This week, if I have time, I want to fold some strength training back into the routine; I’ve let that slip recently as the season has gotten busy.

Blogging. Bookish week coming atcha! I have my November reading round-up on Wednesday, of course, and on Friday I’m sharing what’s on deck for holiday reading this year. Check in with me then!

Loving. I’m not sure what it is, but lately I’ve been seeing bluebirds everywhere. From a mass of them in the neighborhood park last weekend, to one in the tree as I ran my turkey trot, to this beauty at Riverbend Park on Friday – it’s almost like they’re a message. Bluebirds are traditionally an omen of happiness, and seeing one is supposed to bode good luck ahead, so I’m hoping that all these bluebirds mean something. I’d never seen one in my life before this summer – I’d always wanted to – and lately it seems I see them everywhere I go.

Asking. What are you reading this week?