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Reading Round-Up: February 2019

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 February, 2019…

Doctor Thorne, by Anthony Trollope – Finally continuing my sojourns in Barsetshire; getting back there is like taking a big breath of fresh air that smells like country walks and old churches and a cream tea with scones all at the same time.  I won’t go too much into detail, because I reviewed Doctor Thorne at length here, but will just say that it was everything I have been needing right now, and may be my favorite Barsetshire novel (Trollope or Thirkell) yet.

The Lost Vintage, by Ann Mah – No matter what I read after Doctor Thorne, it was going to suffer in comparison, and The Lost Vintage did.  But you shouldn’t let that stop you from reading this novel, which was actually quite fun.  The story alternates back and forth between modern day sommelier Kate, visiting her family vineyard in Burgundy and maybe rekindling an old flame, and a long-buried secret about Kate’s family, told through the World War II journal of a relative Kate didn’t know she had.  There’s history, adventure, and LOTS of wine.  It reminded me of Steve’s and my visit to Burgundy, and made me want to go back to France immediately.

The World As It Is, by Ben Rhodes – You can tell it was a stressful February (between work, school drama and snow days) because this Obama staffer memoir took me almost a week to read, when I would normally have burned through it in a few days.  I don’t regret the extra time spent with Rhodes and Obama, though.  As I’ve come to expect from everyone who was connected to the Obama Administration, Rhodes’ memoir was smart, thoughtful, insightful and fascinating.  I learned a ton about foreign policy, and brushed away tears thinking about how much I miss President Obama and the bright, caring people who staffed his Administration.

Time’s Convert, by Deborah Harkness – Here’s what Time’s Convert is not: great literature.  Here’s what it is: a fun addition to the world of the All Souls Trilogy.  If you’ve enjoyed spending time with Diana, Matthew, Marcus, Miriam, Sarah, Ysabeau, Marthe and the gang, you’ll be glad to see them again.  This book mostly focuses on Marcus, which I enjoyed because he’s one of my favorite characters from the trilogy.  Marcus’s human love, Phoebe, is about to be made into a vampire (terrifyingly, Miriam is her vampire mom, which, I think I’d stay home) so that she and Marcus can be together for eternity.  Time’s Convert tells the story of Phoebe’s transition, interspersed with flashbacks to Marcus’s own early days as a vampire after Matthew plucked him from the battlefields of the American Revolution.  Also, Diana and Matthew’s toddler son gets a familiar, and hijinks ensue.

The Western Wind, by Samantha Harvey – Harvey has been described as this generation’s Virginia Woolf, and I suppose I can see the parallels in writing style (I hope her life is longer and happier than Woolf’s) but The Western Wind didn’t really speak to me.  Normally I would be all over a murder mystery set in medieval times and starring a priest, so maybe it was a case of right book, wrong time?

The Shepherd’s Life: Modern Dispatches From an Ancient Landscape, by James Rebanks – Helen Macdonald (of H is for Hawk fame) called The Shepherd’s Life “bloody marvelous” and I’d have to agree.  Rebanks weaves in a bit of everything here – lots of memoir, some real talk about life on a farm, a history of the Lake District, and a poignant musing on how the people who were native to the landscape were erased from the region’s story when the Romantic poets and backpackers descended.  It was a short, quick read, but I loved it.  And it made me yearn for another rainy hike around Buttermere.

The Girl Who Ruled Fairyland – For a Little While, by Catherynne M. Valente – Let this beautifully-written, vibrantly-imagined standalone short story stand as a testament to the fact that everything Cat Valente does is perfect.  The story of how Mallow, also known as the Empress (she has a hat!) came to rule Fairyland “for a little while,” was vintage Valente.  Her writing can be an acquired taste, but here’s the trick: you have to give yourself over to her imagination, let her take you where she’s going to take you, and bask in the gorgeous, glowing language.  I did, and I loved every moment.

Only seven books this month, but it was a short month, with a heavy workload, several snow days, and a lot of school drama.  (These days, snow days mean chasing two kids with cabin fever as they bounce off the walls and trying desperately to squeeze work in around their shenanigans – not relaxing with a cup of tea and a good book, alas.)  But there were some good ones in there.  Doctor Thorne was the highlight of the month, of course.  But The Shepherd’s Life was wonderful, and The World As It Is was fascinating.  And I read TWO books that took me back to adventures past, which is always a delightful thing.  So – a good month.  Now onward to March, to buds on the trees, hopefully no more snow days, and the beginning of spring reading.

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Book Collecting in the Age of Kondo

It seems like Marie Kondo is everywhere right now, doesn’t it?  I read her books – The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and Spark Joy – back in 2015 and 2016(?) and was kind of bemused.  (I have a very specific memory of reading Life-Changing Magic on vacation in the Outer Banks, sitting in a cane-backed chair looking out over Pamlico Sound while Nugget snoozed in my lap.)  Like most, I thought she had some good/interesting ideas, but most of the book was just never going to happen – at least not for me.  And now she has a Netflix show, which by all reports most people are finding delightful; I haven’t watched and probably won’t, since Steve has no interest in it and I’m such a sporadic TV viewer.

There’s a lot I find appealing about Marie Kondo’s methods.  The idea of carefully examining the things that we allow into our homes, and keeping only those things that add to our well-being, resonates with me.  For a long time, I have tried to live by the old adage, “keep nothing in your home that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.”  That’s not quite Konmari, but it’s not far off.

Have you seen those Marie-Kondo-and-books memes that are floating around the internet?  I posted one on Facebook – a picture of Marie Kondo, looking adorable and saying “Ideally, keep less than thirty books” followed by an image of stacked shelves with the caption “Ravenclaws everywhere: YOU MEAN PER SUBJECT, RIGHT?”  I just thought that was funny, because I identify as a Ravenclaw, but when I shared the meme, my dear friend and fellow book clubber Bridget commented: “But your books are so pretty and well organized, they definitely spark joy!  Marie Kondo would look around and say I can tell this is a happy, well-read home!”  To which I blushed.  Because I am proud of my bookshelves.  I think that my collection is well-curated and reflects my interests and the things that give me joy.  So I do think Marie Kondo would approve.

Whether measuring by the Konmari “does this spark joy?” method or asking “is this either useful, beautiful, or both?” I think my book collection meets the standard.  For several years now, I have been making an effort to pare it down.  I have limited shelf space in my urban townhouse – I think I can squeeze in one more bookshelf without things looking awkward, and I am actively lobbying for that – and I do want my books to be worthy of the space they take up.  Some time ago, a bookstagrammer that I follow mentioned that she had a rule: she would only keep books to which she had given three or more stars on Goodreads.  If she rated a book as being only okay, out it went.  She’d never re-read it, so why bother keeping it?

I loved that.  Inspired, I tornadoed through my book collection and culled a decent-sized stack of books that I knew I’d never read again.  Off they went to the library, the used bookstore, or other homes in the neighborhood via my Buy Nothing community.  What’s left:

  • Books I have collected because I want to read them and/or expect to re-read them, and because they are beautiful (Slightly Foxed Editions, Persephone books, Folio Society books, and vintage novels with beautiful covers fall into this category).
  • Books that are not conventionally beautiful, but that I keep because I cherish them for other reasons – mostly, this pertains to my childhood copies of L. M. Montgomery and Madeleine L’Engle, which are tattered and which I will never, ever throw out.
  • Books that I don’t find beautiful and haven’t read or expect to re-read, but which I would like to read once.  These will probably get carted off to the used bookstore once I’ve finished them.  This category is mostly made up of women’s fiction that originated on my grandmama’s shelves, was read by my mom, and is now gathering dust waiting for me.  Once upon a time, I would have felt guilty for selling those, but – my mom and my grandmama have both given me other, more meaningful gifts.  I don’t need to keep The Friday Night Knitting Club to know that they love(d) me.

Clearly, I’m not going to Konmari my books – because I pretty much already have.  And I’m not going to stop adding to my book collection either.  But these days I am exclusively buying books that I think are both beautiful and useful – and that’s how I’ve adjusted my book collecting for the age of Konmari.  I do not bring a book into my home, these days, unless I both want to read it and like to look at it.  I spend more money to have a beautiful edition of a book, and I am fine with that because I am buying fewer books.  I’d rather spend my money on a Slightly Foxed Edition that I am going to enjoy reading and also feel giddy about holding in my hands and seeing on my shelf, than spend the same amount on blah paperbacks that take up space and don’t make me happy.  (I do buy paperbacks, but I still want them to be pretty.  British Library Crime Classics, with their vintage train journey inspired covers: yes.  Movie tie-in editions of anything: barf, no.)

The thing is, I’ve shifted my thinking on book collecting.  I never bought indiscriminately – even when I was stocking my first home library with babysitting money.  (Even then, I still bought classics.  But they were usually fake leather omnibus editions because ALL OF JANE AUSTEN FOR TEN DOLLARS, GIMME.)  Now, I am playing a long game: I am slowly and carefully curating a library that I expect to keep for my whole life and, someday, to pass along to my daughter.  I want books that are sturdy enough to withstand multiple readings and that give me pleasure just by existing.  Can I say it?  I am curating a home library that sparks joy.

Do you Konmari your books?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (February 25, 2019)

Happy Monday – I think? – you guys.  I’m going into this week pretty stressed out.  We had a snow day and some other (not bloggable) school drama last week, and it kind of threw off my work schedule.  I really needed to work this weekend to get back on track, but that didn’t work out either; Steve had to work full days on Saturday and Sunday, so I was on kid duty all weekend.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the little boogers, but two days of constant, unadulterated “Mommy and me” time is exhausting.  On Saturday, we occupied ourselves with lots of errands – Target for laundry supplies, a big grocery run, and an afternoon at the library.  (Our favorite children’s librarian was working, so the kiddos got some Vanessa time and Mom got a breather while Vanessa built lego towers with them for a little while.)  Vanessa also helped Peanut find some books about space exploration for a class project and loaded her up with a bag full to bursting of supplies from the library’s craft closet, which we used to build a model space station at home.  (Librarians really are good people to know.)  We got right to work on the space station as soon as we were back from the library and while we built, we kept Uncle Dan company by phone as he drove to California (no big deal, right?!) to help our Uncle Peter do some work on his boat.

On Saturday night, I decided that the next day I would reward the kids for being only moderately insane while we ran errands and take them to the Udvar-Hazy Air and Space Museum out by Dulles Airport.  Minutes after I told Steve about my plan, my phone chirped: another mom in Peanut’s class had texted our “K team moms” group text to see if anyone wanted to go to Udvar-Hazy.  I replied immediately, and a planned solo outing turned into a friend date.  Yay!  We made a day of it on Sunday: drove out in the morning, the kids spent several hours running around with Peanut’s friend, and then we all had lunch at McDonald’s together (livin’ the dream, livin’ the dream).  I gave myself a well-deserved couch night on Sunday night.  I was wiped.

Reading.  Despite the upheavals of last week (including a snow day when I didn’t have a commute in which to read) I was fairly productive on the reading front.  Finished Time’s Convert and The Western Wind.  Time’s Convert was fine, and The Western Wind was okay, I guess.  Neither one really spoke to me.  I’m now midway through The Shepherd’s Life: Modern Dispatches from an Ancient Landscape, which I’m enjoying much more.  It’s part memoir, part nature book, part history of farming in the Lake District, and it’s really lovely.

Watching.  Steve and I finished the Doctor Thorne adaptation this weekend!  I loved it.  There were a few plot points that were changed from the book, but that’s to be expected.  Altogether, it was wonderful.  TV Frank was a rather stronger character than book Frank, which was a welcome modification.  The acting was fantastic and the settings and costumes were lovely – it was just so much fun.

Listening.  More of the same – podcasts upon podcasts upon podcasts!  I listened to a few back episodes of From the Front Porch, including the one on “PG lit,” and it was so refreshing to hear Annie proudly own her prudishness.  I, too, am a prude and prefer my books PG, or PG-13 at most.  Prude and proud!

Making.  Lots of making this week.  My first ever loaf of focaccia (it came out great!) on Wednesday, while we were stuck home with a snow day.  A huge pot of Asian vegetable soup for Sunday dinner and lunches all week – delicious.  And a shoebox-sized space station, constructed of foam spheres, popsicle sticks, and tinfoil.  (And this coming week I will be making a position statement and a reply brief.  Please send chocolate.)

Blogging.  This week is such a hectic work week that I am hesitant to make any promises, but my goal is to have some bookish content for you – thoughts on book collecting in the Age of Kondo on Wednesday, and a February reading round-up on Friday.  But either or both might be late, because I am slammed at work, so please bear with me.

Wondering.  I write this blog for myself, but I do want to write things that are interesting to others.  When I first started writing about books, I mixed book reviews in with other content – longer reviews than just my monthly round-ups, that is – and I’ve been thinking about bringing those back.  Not too much – no overkill – but a little more in the way of organized thoughts on specific titles.  Is this something folks would be interested in reading?

Loving.  This focaccia recipe was easy and delicious.  Slowly but surely, I’m getting over my fear of baking yeast breads, but something about focaccia still seemed a little intimidating.  But it couldn’t have been simpler.  I think this is going to be one of the recipes I’m going to need to copy down onto a card for my recipe box – that’s how you can tell it’s a good one.

Asking.  What are you reading this week?

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Reflections On Completing The #52HikeChallenge

Somewhere around November of 2017, I realized that my Instagram friend Heidi had been methodically working her way through a challenge to hike 52 times in a year.  I thought that was pretty hardcore and I was duly impressed.  A little digging revealed that I could sign up to do the challenge myself and, well, I have no self-control when it comes to things like that.  I few keystrokes and clicks of the mouse later, I was officially a 52 Hike Challenger for 2018.

I was already behind by the time I got started, thanks to several weeks of face-shatteringly cold weather that saw us hunkered down inside, not hitting the trails.  (It was so cold that taking out the garbage was like a Polar expedition.)  We finally made it out onto the first trail of the year three weeks into 2018, and we started with Theodore Roosevelt Island, which seemed appropriate.

Over the course of the year, we did mostly hiked together as a family.  We did everything from short, easy trails (like the Story of the Forest Trail in Shenandoah National Park)…

To our fourth Adirondack high peak – Big Slide.

We chased away sadness on the trail.

Hiked with friends of the human and canine variety.

Shared our favorite places with family.

Summited an Adirondack mountain as a family.

And wandered through a glory of Virginia bluebells.

At final count, I think I did about forty-nine of the fifty-two hikes with the kiddos.  (Steve and I made Big Slide a day date, and I hiked Belle Isle and Section C of the Billy Goat Trail alone.)  Hiking with kids is a different experience – think less distance, more logistics.  We had to make sure we had a plan for carrying them if they lost their momentum mid-hike, that we were stocked with snacks, and that we were prepared for any weather.  Kids won’t tough it out the way adults will if they’re hungry or cold, and they can’t cover the same sorts of distances or elevation change – that’s just common sense.  But hiking with them was so rewarding, all the same.

My littles have grown up on the trails, so they’re pros – as kids go.  And it’s totally worth it to impart the lessons of perseverance, teamwork, and respect for the Earth; I don’t think there’s any better way to teach those things than to spend time in nature – a lot of time, and regularly as part of the family routine.  They definitely have their moments, and they are most certainly not always good.  But they’re pretty solid hikers.

The downside to the 52 Hike Challenge?  I had almost no time to do anything else.  Forget Saturday mornings wandering the farmers’ markets, forget ice skating on a winter’s afternoon, and definitely forget kayaking.  I only made it out for one paddle all year long.  (That’s not going to be the story of 2019.)  I loved spending so much time on the hiking trails in 2018, but as the year wore on I started to grow more frustrated that I couldn’t do anything else because I would fall behind on the challenge.  Especially after a summer of not hiking as much as anticipated (partly due to bad weather, and partly to a family tragedy that completely changed the dynamic of the summer) I had no margin at all with the challenge.  A hiking vacation got me almost back on course over the summer, and a few weekends of back-to-back hikes helped, too.  I did end up hitting #hike51 with a few weeks to spare, and was able to plan a special hike to celebrate #hike52.

But, still – it did feel like I couldn’t do anything else for most of the year.  I have limited time for adventuring, and while I love hiking and want trail time to be a part of every month, I’d like a more varied diet of family fun and activity.  I’d like to be able to go out for a run, train for a race, or do things like cross-country ski in the winter and paddle in the summer without worrying that choosing those activities instead of a hike is going to put me behind on a goal.  So consistent with my no-resolutions 2019, I’m not going to take on any specific challenges this year.  I’m going to take my adventures as they come, and enjoy them, without worrying about goals or checklists or calendars.

That said, I couldn’t be happier that I did do the #52HikeChallenge.  It was a fun and exciting goal to work towards all year, and I loved the built-in motivation to find new trails to explore (because who wants to hike in the same park every week for an entire year?).  It took me to trails in five different states (Virginia, D.C., Maryland, Massachusetts and New York) and delivered fresh air, quality time with family and friends, and lots of great exercise.  And I loved every second.

Thanks for a memorable year on the trail, #52HikeChallenge!

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The Classics Club Challenge: Doctor Thorne

Every time I read another Trollope, I wonder what took me so long to start with him, and why I let so much time go by in between visits to his world.  Doctor Thorne is the third installment in the six-novel Chronicles of Barsetshire series, which just keeps getting better and better.  This is also the first installment to take the reader outside the rarefied world of Barchester clerical leadership and into another part of the county and another echelon of society; although there is one brief shoutout to the Bishop of Barchester, the action lies elsewhere.

The novel opens with an evocative description of the Barsetshire village of Greshamsbury, the manor house of the same name, and the family of squire Gresham.  We learn all about the present squire’s failed stint in Parliament and his financial woes, driven by his avaricious and snobbish wife, Lady Arabella Gresham.  The action really begins with the twenty-first birthday celebration of Frank Gresham the younger, son of the current squire.  It’s a celebration, but a bit of a somber one, because the estate is in dire straits and the townspeople have lost a deal of respect for the squire.  It’s hard to keep a twenty-one-year-old’s spirits down, though, and young Frank is feeling pleasantly flirtatious.  His attentions are focused on his lovely neighbors Patience Oriel and Mary Thorne.

Frank, as the author explains, might be viewed by some as the hero of the story, and he is destined to play the romantic lead:

It is he who is to be our favorite young man, to do the love scenes, to have his trials and his difficulties, and to win through them or not, as the case may be.  I am too old now to be a hard-hearted author, and so it is probable that he may not die of a broken heart.

Trollope has his (misguided) detractors, and one of their frequent complaints is his tendency to insert the authorial voice into the storytelling.  The reader is never permitted to forget that there is an author behind the words.  I can understand the critique, but I personally enjoy Trollope’s little asides.  They feel conspiratorial, as though author and reader are sharing a cuppa and a little joke.

Anyway – back to the young people.  If Frank Gresham is our romantic hero, Mary Thorne is his leading lady.  Mary is the niece of one of the village doctors.  Her birth is something of a matter of mystery – her father was Doctor Thorne’s ne’er-do-well brother, and her mother, well, Mary doesn’t actually know.  The result of this mystery is that, even though Mary is loved and well-cared-for by her uncle, she is essentially without name or fortune.  She’s been brought up as a gentlewoman, but without the expectations of ever being able to marry a gentleman.  Mary is conscious of the precariousness of her own position, and is at pains to discourage young Frank in his attentions – as she believes, like everyone else, that a union with the squire’s son would be impossible.  There are two insurmountable obstacles to such a match: Mary’s utter lack of social position, and her utter lack of funds.

Because Frank – as his mother and her aristocratic relations keep reminding him – has a duty to the estate: “Frank must marry money.”  It’s the only way to solve the financial problems that have beset the estate in recent years.  Frank’s father inherited a robust property, but has run through the family fortune in less than one generation – financing repeated unsuccessful runs for Parliament and other demands of his wife.  Lady Arabella is at the root of all the Greshams’ problems, but naturally she doesn’t see it that way.

Frank has a stubborn streak, and the more he is told (by everyone in the book, Mary included) that he can’t have Mary, the more he is determined that she is the only one for him.  Lady Arabella and her relations conspire to drag him off to Courcy Castle, the family seat of Frank’s mother’s family, and throw him in the way of Martha Dunstable, a fabulously wealthy heiress nine years his senior.  Frank resists the entire time, but he is no match for his Aunt de Courcy – and a good thing, too, because Miss Dunstable is one of the best characters I’ve encountered so far in all of English literature.  Witty, a little acerbic, discerning enough to know when she’s being pursued for her money, Miss Dunstable spends most of her visit to Courcy Castle in rejecting suitors – gently or harshly, as the situation requires.  She sees immediately that Frank is being goaded into a proposal, and she also perceives that he’s no more interested in marrying her than she is in him – which she confirms after he finally proposes and immediately confesses that he’s in love with his pretty neighbor.  And with that, Miss Dunstable becomes Frank and Mary’s biggest cheerleader and, often, Frank’s only source of support in pursuing the match.

Unbeknownst to the young lovebirds, wheels are turning that could change everything.  Doctor Thorne’s richest patient, Sir Roger Scatcherd, is dying.  Sir Roger was once a humble tradesman, but his brilliance in engineering and business made him a fortune and saw his elevation to baronet – a hereditary title – but also contributed to his untimely demise from alcoholism.  Sir Roger calls Doctor Thorne to his bedside and divulges that he wishes to leave his fortune to his alcoholic son, Louis, but if Louis should die before attaining the age of 25, the fortune should pass to the eldest child of Sir Roger’s sister, Mary.  What Doctor Thorne knows, but Sir Roger does not, is that Mary Scatcherd’s eldest child is – Mary Thorne.  And this sets up the novel’s central ethical problem: Doctor Thorne is committed, by virtue of the norms of his profession and a promise to Sir Roger, to keeping Louis alive and healthy so he can inherit, but he knows that if Louis dies, Mary will inherit the fortune and could – if Lady Arabella doesn’t ruin everything – finally have a clear path to happiness with Frank.

I won’t tell you how it all plays out, but it’s Trollope – so you can probably guess.  He’s as committed to happy endings as his predecessor Jane Austen.  What I really want to talk about is how funny this book is.  Trollope’s excellent sense of humor might be one of the best and least known characteristics of his writing.  A series of 600+ page novels about Victorian clergy doesn’t sound like it would be a laugh-fest, but Trollope’s fans are well-supplied with jokes all the same.  There was one scene that made me laugh out loud just as Nugget was reaching the punch line of one of his toddler jokes, and he was delighted with his humor’s reception – until he realized that it was the book Mommy was laughing at, not him.  It’s a scene early on in the book, in which Frank has solicited the advice of his cousin, the Honorable George, on speech-giving.  The Honorable George advises Fred to fix his gaze on a bottle, but there are so many bottles on the table that Frank gets overwhelmed:

Up he got, however, and commenced his speech.  As he could not follow his preceptor’s advice as touching the bottle, he adopted his own crude plan of ‘making a mark of some old covey’s head,’ and therefore looked dead at the doctor.

‘Upon my word, I am very much obliged to you, gentlemen and ladies, ladies and gentlemen I should say, for drinking my health, and doing me so much honour, and all that sort of thing.  Upon my word I am.  Especially to Mr Baker.  I don’t mean you, Harry, you’re not Mr Baker.’

‘As much as you’re Mr Gresham, Master Frank.’

‘But I am not Mr Gresham, and I don’t mean to be for many a long year if I can help it; not at any rate till we have had another coming of age here.’

‘Bravo, Frank, and whose will that be?’

‘That will be my son, and a very fine lad he will be; and I hope he’ll make a better speech than his father.  Mr Baker said I was every inch a Gresham.  Well, I hope I am.’  Here the countess [de Courcy] began to look cold and angry.  ‘I hope the day will never come when my father won’t own me for one.’

‘There’s no fear, no fear,’ said the doctor, who was almost put out of countenance by the orator’s intense gaze.  The countess looked colder and more angry, and muttered something to herself about a bear-garden.

The image of Frank blundering through his speech with his gaze fixed intensely on poor Doctor Thorne, while the countess grumbles in the background, slayed me.  And it’s the beginning of many laugh-out-loud moments to come: Lady Scatcherd (another wonderful character) hiding in the pantry and squabbling with her housekeeper about who has to go upstairs to receive an unwanted guest; the sometimes scathingly witty marriage rejections doled out by the fabulous Miss Dunstable; and Sir Roger’s roaring “put him under the pump!” when visited by the odious Doctor Fillgrave – hilarious.

But between the funny moments, Doctor Thorne is a sweet story of a boy growing into a man, with a man’s constant love for the friend of his childhood; of a doctor struggling between his ethics and his desire to see his niece happy; of a father grieving the burdens his mismanagement has placed on his son; of an epic battle between an aristocratic snob and a young woman whose mild demeanor hides her spine of steel; of the pulls between money, social position, and love.  In short – it’s vintage Trollope.

Doctor Thorne, by Anthony Trollope, available here (not an affiliate link).

 

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (February 18, 2019)

Yawwwwwwn.  Morning.  I’m sleepy – I was up in the middle of the night last night.  And I’m not ready for the workweek; last week was crazy and stressful and I need one more day.  Unfortunately, I don’t get the day off (although I wish much enjoyment to those friends who do, and with only a little bit of envy).  I thought about taking the day off, since I worked on MLK day when my firm was closed, but we were able to get childcare and I decided that in the end it’s better to bank the hours now when the weather is gross (it’s yucky and rainy here) and have a cushion for the summer when I really want to be off.  Guys, it’s hard to be a grown-up sometimes.  Anyway – last week really was a doozy.  I had several deadlines, one of which became a stressful scramble when the mission changed at the last minute.  Compounding the stress was the fact that Nugget had two sick days home from school, poor fella.  And I think we had one two-hour delay?  I’m not sure, though: I’ve lost count of how many of those we’ve had this winter, and it was such a crazy work week that I don’t really remember what else happened.

The weekend was lovely, if busy.  I’d have liked more downtime and reading time, but I can’t complain about our activities.  On Saturday, we drove up to the Adventure Theater in Glen Echo to see Huckleberry Finn’s Big River.  I’d bought four tickets to the show as a Christmas gift to Steve, who loves Mark Twain.  (Twain isn’t my cup of tea, but the show was great.)  Steve and Peanut were delighted with the show, but little Nugget had a hard time sitting still for an hour and I had to take him out of the theatre.  It happens.  On Sunday, Steve and Peanut went out for a daddy-daughter date while Nugget and I hosted friends for a play date.  Nugget and his buddy ran around, watched Jurassic World, played Ghostbusters, fought over toys, smooshed all of our play-doh colors together, and kneaded a loaf of bread for me, while the other mom and I sipped coffee and chatted for hours.  (We have a lot in common – they are also a two-lawyer family, Cornell alums, who did time in the NICU.)  I ended the weekend in my customary way – a late afternoon library run, a homemade dinner, and an evening with my book.  Good times.

 

Reading.  What with the work week being so busy and stressful – several late nights, including Friday – it took me six days to finish The World As It Is, which is unusually slow for me.  It was a good one to take my time over, though – smart and complex and fascinating.  It made me sad and nostalgic for the days when we had a White House full of smart, honorable, thoughtful and responsible people (from the top guy on down).  Anyway – after I finished The World As It Is, I moved on to what might be the exact opposite: Time’s Convert.  I never know what to think about the All Souls books (which I have always described as “Twilight for the grad student set”), but I did think this would be fun because a good deal of the action takes place during the American Revolution, which will tell you, if you are familiar with the series, that the main character of this entry is the vampire Marcus Whitmore.  Marcus was one of my favorite characters in the original trilogy, so it’s been fun to get a little more of his backstory.  And with Matthew and Diana taking a backseat (although they have a story arc) their more annoying tendencies are a bit muted.  (I realize I’m not selling this book very well…)  Anyway!  Here’s hoping for a more productive reading week this week.

Watching.  Most notably, I watched (most of) a performance of Huckleberry Finn’s Big River at the Adventure Theater.  The actors were great and the songs were catchy; I’m humming the opening number, still, two days later.  It was also a heavier TV week for me than usual, by which I mean that I watched about two hours of television (not counting the kids’ shows – Nugget did want me on the couch with him during several episodes of Dinosaur King, but I don’t count that as TV watched because I daydreamed through it).  On Monday, Steve had plans with friends and I watched the third episode of The Great American Read, which I have recorded and am slowly working my way through.  And then on Saturday, we had another TV night and watched the second episode of Doctor Thorne, which I am LOVING almost as much as the book.  Steve is mostly just humoring me, but I do think he’s starting to get interested in the story.

Listening.  The usual – lots and lots of podcasts.  I got shouts on The Book Riot Podcast for my “nonlawyersplaining” explanation of the elements of defamation – heh.  That was the highlight of the week’s listening.  I was craving some show tunes one evening, as well, and I walked home from the Metro to the opening numbers of Book of Mormon.

Making.  I’m back on a bread-baking train, apparently – two good sandwich loaves in two weeks!  I wasn’t sure how my bread would come out in the drier winter weather, having learned in summer’s humidity, but cross fingers, it doesn’t seem to be messing me up too badly.  After Sunday’s loaf came out of the oven fluffy and golden, I started looking for new recipes to try.  I think I’ve got a handle on the basics, and now I’m itching to pick up some new skills.  Focaccia looks like a lot of fun – maybe that’s next?

Blogging.  I have a book review coming up on Wednesday, but I haven’t planned out as far as Friday, so we’ll see what comes out of my fingertips.  Check in with me then!

Loving.  This isn’t a new story, but this week I have been loving read-aloud time with Peanut.  We are working our way through Ramona the Pest, which was a book I loved when I was her age.  She’s already heard it read aloud in school, which was news to me – I knew that she had met Ramona, but I thought her teachers had read Ramona the Brave.  (Turns out they have read both books to the class.)  But the fact that it’s a re-read isn’t bothering Peanut at all and she’s relishing her knowledge of what’s to come and her power to spoil the story for her dad.  (Pssst, Daddy.  There’s no present.)  And I’m relishing getting reacquainted with Ramona; I’d nearly forgotten what a fantastic character she is.  But the best part is cuddling up with my girl and connecting with her over a book we both love.

Asking.  What are you reading this week?

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No-Resolutions 2019

Here it is February 15th, and I’m just now getting around to talking about New Year’s resolutions, which should give you a clue as to how I’m feeling about them this year: ambivalent.  Usually, I love New Year’s resolutions.  I love setting them, planning out how to tackle them, and checking in with them all year long.  This year, I just feel meh about setting goals.  It’s been a hectic, roller-coastery few years, and I sort of feel like I need a break.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, I didn’t set resolutions one year.  Well, that’s not exactly true – I did, but I only had one resolution.  The year was 2006, and my resolution was to pass the Bar.  That was it.  That was my only goal for the year.  Well, I guess that and graduate law school and find a job, but I knew the one was going to happen and I trusted the other.  Both worked out.  And so did the Bar thing.  And I remember the week after I took the exam: my friend Jenn and I drove up to our pal Seth’s house on Lake George.  We swam and paddled around in Seth’s kayaks and ate ice cream and barbequed and listened to the Minne-ha-ha fire a fake cannon at the next door neighbors and watched the sunset and I thought: “I have nothing else going on this year.”  It felt good.

When I sat down and started thinking about what I wanted my 2019 to look like, I realized that I didn’t want to make a list of concrete goals or resolutions, like I have the past few years.  It has been so hectic and exhausting, and to be honest, I’m a little bit burnt out and I need to refocus.  So I decided that this year, I am only going to have one goal: do more of the stuff that makes me happy, and less of the stuff that bums me out.

I don’t even know what that looks like, but I do have some ideas.  I would like to be more focused and present, to give my undivided attention to whatever I happen to be doing at the time.  Less worrying about the kids’ school performance or social calendars when I’m at work.  Less connected to the office when I’m at home.  (Hey – I’m a realist.  I know that I can’t totally disengage from work in the evenings, and that sometimes personal stuff pops up during the day and I have to deal with it.)  I’d like to be on my phone less, a lot less.  I’d also like to grant less mental real estate to the energy vampires.  What I’m saying, I guess, is that I want to get back to a simpler frame of mind and a less distracted lifestyle.

Along those lines, I did want a word for the year, and I think I have one.  It hasn’t stormed into my life the way home did in 2016, or whispered to my heart like gather in 2017, and it doesn’t feel necessary like begin in 2018.  But consistent with my one goal of focusing on the important and life-affirming stuff and whittling away at the distractions, the word that I seem to want to follow in 2019 is element.  Which means… what, exactly?  I’m not sure, but I look forward to finding out.

I’d like to strip away the unnecessary stuff and pare life down to its elements – to the important things and the things that mean something – to cut through noise and clutter and emotional adverse possession by people and situations that don’t deserve my attention.  I’d also like to spend as much time in nature as possible – that is to say, in my element, and out in the elements – connecting with what is true and meaningful and cutting out the digital noise and constant clamoring that makes me so anxious.  So I think that’s what that means, but we’ll see.

Did you set goals for 2019, or are you taking a madcap approach to your resolutions this year?

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Lit Bits, Volume III

Random thoughts about books and reading…

I’m playing library roulette.  It occurred to me that I am living dangerously when it comes to library renewals.  I like to wait until the last possible day to renew my books – to give myself more time with them, you understand.  But if someone puts a hold on a book and I can’t renew it, I’m beating myself at my own game.  Lately I’ve started checking a few days in advance of a library deadline to see if there are any holds, any other copies circulating, etc. – but that inevitably leads to more strategizing.  There aren’t any holds but all the copies in circulation are checked out; should I renew early and cut off three days (or what have you) from my time with the book, or should I wait?  I realize this isn’t exactly what most would call living dangerously, but I’m just speaking my truth.

Speaking of the library, we tried out a new babysitter recently – the children’s librarian from our local library branch.  (Why had I never thought of this before?)  She was sweet and lovely and did a great job, although the kids made a point of letting her know that she was not their beloved regular babysitter, Bre.  Anyway – she told me I had the best home library she’d ever seen and that the kids owned books that she used for storytime at the library but had never seen in a kid’s personal collection before.  Winning!

Oh, and Nugget has a favorite library book.  He has checked out a book called Dirt Bikes twice now.  He knows exactly where it is in the stacks and he goes right for it.  Steve said that he used to do the same thing; he remembers a book about military jets that he borrowed from his elementary school library on multiple occasions.  Like father, like son…

Library luck is good, but my Amazon luck is bad lately.  I’m really trying not to buy too many books this year, so it’s especially frustrating that the books I do buy keep showing up damaged.  I had to return A Vicarage Family because the top half of the spine was crushed, and A Nature Poem for Every Day of the Year because the cover was visibly dirty (and I tried to clean it; the spots wouldn’t come off – am I the Lady Macbeth of books?).  What the what?  It’s so weird, how this keeps happening to me.

The Folio Society New Year’s Sale is almost over, guys!  I think there’s just a few days left, and stock is pretty low.  The selection is pretty good this time, so do go take a peek if you’re a Folio Society devotee.  The Folio Society semi-annual sales are exceptions to my general book-buying rule, and I make use of the exception.

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (February 11, 2019)

Does it have to be Monday?  I mean, does it absolutely have to?  I’m not ready.  Last week was a doozy – I worked until midnight on Monday (in the office, so I got home at about 12:30 a.m.) and what I learned is: when I work until midnight one night, I’m basically good for nothing for the next two days.  I know I did work on Tuesday and Wednesday, I just can’t remember what I did.  I started to get some energy back toward the end of the week, but I have another busy week ahead – although hopefully not with a late night like last week – and I really needed to get ahead on some things this weekend, but I didn’t.  It was a more productive weekend than last weekend, at least, when I didn’t do anything.  At least this weekend I got some organizing done.  I woke up on Saturday and immediately started working on a clean-out of our games and crafts cupboard – much needed.  I threw out a bunch of stuff and put a bunch more in our neighborhood craft supplies round robin bag, then sent the round robin off to its next stop at my friend Julie’s house.  Everyone was pleased with the newly organized cupboard; the kids spent the rest of the morning painting with their newly unearthed supplies.  Saturday afternoon was jam-packed with social engagements.  The kids and I hit up a(nother) birthday party, this one at a local indoor playground, then headed straight to the library.  We usually go on Sundays, but we’ve been trying to make a point of stopping by on the Saturdays when the children’s librarian, Vanessa – who moonlights as one of our favorite babysitters – is scheduled to work.  The kids were excited to see her.  Then from the library we drove into D.C. to attend a fondue party at our friends Stephen and Nancy’s house.  Stephen was one of Steve’s coworkers back in the day, and the gang has kept up through regular fondue nights at his house.  On Sunday, I woke up with a headache and both of the kids were running slight temperatures, so we spent the day chilling inside.  I ordered supplies for the Valentine’s Day party in Peanut’s classroom and packed up some gifts for my Buy Nothing community, but didn’t get anything else done – including the work I kind of really needed to do.  Instead I spent the day cuddling the kiddos, reading, and baking bread.  A good way to spend a Sunday; I hope it sets me up for the week.

   

Reading.  It was a busy reading week.  I spent the weekdays over two books: Wild Things: The Joy of Reading Children’s Literature as an Adult, and The Lost Vintage.  Both were fine, but left me feeling a bit lukewarm.  I enjoyed most of the literary criticism in Wild Things, but there were a few things that bugged me and ended up kind of ruining the book – more on that when I do my monthly reading roundup.  As for The Lost Vintage, I enjoyed the story – and I recommended it to my mom – but the writing style didn’t really resonate with me and I had a hard time buying into the central relationship.  I liked the wine parts, though, and it made me want to go back to France, so – a win overall, I think.  I finished The Lost Vintage on Friday evening and didn’t want to start anything new, because I knew I’d be picking up a pile of holds from the library on Saturday, and some of them would be time-sensitive, so I pulled out two books that I’m going to be reading slowly over the course of the year to tide me over until we made our library run.  First, The Almanac 2019 – I read the February chapter and it was a delight, as expected – and A Nature Poem for Every Day of the Year.  I’m getting started a bit late, so I spent an hour or so getting up-to-date, and a very nice hour it was.  On Saturday evening I thumbed through my holds pile and decided to begin with The World As It Is: A Memoir of the Obama White House.  I’m about 150-ish pages in as of press time, and it’s fascinating.  (I also have Thanks, Obama: My Hopey Changey White House Years in my library stack, and I might read them back-to-back to compare; we’ll see.)

Watching.  I know you’re thinking I’m going to say “nothing” but not this week!  (I know, I know, I’m full of surprises.)  I talked Steve into watching the adaptation of Doctor Thorne on Amazon Prime.  He’s enjoying it, but not as much as he enjoyed Victoria (true story).  I, on the other hand, am giddy.  The cast is perfect and it is just SO! MUCH! FUN!  We watched one episode on Sunday night and I look forward to making Steve watch the rest this coming week, if I get home at a reasonable hour.

Listening.  The same as usual: lots of podcasts.  I did an unprecedented thing and emailed the hosts of The Book Riot Podcast last week, because they were discussing a defamation lawsuit that’s been in the news and were wondering about some of the details of a defamation case.  Since defamation defense is part of my practice and has been, on and off, for about ten years now, I sent them an email with a 30,000 foot overview of the tort.  I felt a little silly writing it, but they sent me back a very gracious email thanking me for the “excellent nonlawyersplaining explanation,” so that was quite fun.

Making.  Not what I should have made: progress on a couple of work projects.  It will be a busy week; Sunday Scaries hit hard last night.  But I did make some good things this weekend, including a clean and organized games and crafts cupboard and a golden loaf of sourdough sandwich bread.  Yum.

Blogging.  I have more Lit Bits for you on Wednesday, and on Friday, some disorganized musings about not making resolutions for 2019.  Check in with me then!

Loving.  I don’t know if this is really “loving” or just “recalibrating” – but I’ve taken a couple of steps to cut down on my consumption of news.  Our statewide woes in Virginia are national news at the moment; the phrase “dumpster fire” doesn’t even begin to describe it.  (What’s the phrase for when the dumpster fire is on fire?)  It’s been painful to watch, because I voted for and supported the politicians involved, and I’m just so disappointed and disheartened in so many ways.  Twitter is continuing to drive me a bit bonkers, and it doesn’t help that staring at my phone gives me debilitating headaches.  So I’ve done two things: first, I’ve moved Twitter off my home screen and onto the third screen of my phone, where I keep absolutely nothing of importance: so if I really want to scroll my Twitter feed, I now have to go out of my way to access it.  And second, I’ve started keeping my phone in my bag during the workday and avoiding most of the news coverage I was reading on the computer.  (I can’t go completely cold turkey – I’m still reading FiveThirtyEight and skimming the CNN Politics page every morning.  But it’s a lot less than what I was reading.)  I feel less informed, which is probably not a good thing in the long run, but I feel a lot more peaceful right now, and it’s nice.  If I’m tempted to check the news I consciously steer myself to a book blog or gardening website instead.  I’ve just started doing this in the last two or so weeks, so I’ll let you know how my news diet holds up.  But for now, I am really enjoying being less plugged in.

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In Which I Find Time To Read, Preschooler & Kindergartener Edition

One constant in my life after graduating law school, but especially after becoming a mom, is the question: how do you find time to read so much?  In my adult reading life, I’ve found that my sweet spot is around 100 books in a year; nothing I do really changes that.  Some years it’s 98, some years 102, but it seems that my reading spreadsheets and Goodreads lists are attracted to that number as if it’s a magnet.  I land around 100 books every year without much effort, but if I tried to read more, I don’t think I could.  (There are outlier years.  One year I read 70 books – quite low for me.  And in 2018, I tried to read 52 and ended up reading 113.)

Also, at the risk of sounding smug, I don’t think 100-odd books in a year is all that much.  I have friends who read many more than that, and next to them, I feel like a total slouch.  Maybe someday I’ll read more – but I don’t think so.  I’ve always landed around 100, no matter what else was going on in my life.  No kids, one kid, toddler-and-a-baby – no matter what the life stage; it’s as if the number 100-ish is magic for me.

People always ask me how I manage to read so much, and I usually shrug off the question.  I enjoy reading, so I make time for it – pretty simple.  I prioritize it over other things that I enjoy less – like watching television – and some things that I like doing, but just not quite as much as I like reading – such as knitting.  But nothing’s ever quite as simple as we’d like to make it, is it?  So if I were to drill down and really consider how I fit books into my schedule as a working mom with a kindergartner and a preschooler, here’s what I come up with:

  • Personal to me: I’m a fast reader.  I don’t know that reading speed is something that one can really change, so maybe I’m just lucky – but I’ve always been a fast reader.  My being able to fit 100+ books per year around an otherwise crammed schedule has a lot to do with my naturally quick pace of reading.  (If only I was a fast runner in addition to being a fast reader.)
  • I don’t watch TV.  Or much of it, anyway.  I probably average less than two hours of TV a week, and that might be a stretch.  There are some weeks when Steve and I will be binging a show on Netflix (which, for us, means watching one episode a night) but then there will be weeks on end when I won’t watch anything at all.  I think TV is just fine, and a perfectly pleasant way to entertain oneself, and there are some shows – like Parks and Recreation, The Crown, or The Great British Bake-Off – that never get old.  But I’m conscious of the fact that I have limited free time, and I usually choose to spend it reading.
  • I read in front of the kids.  This is actually challenging for me.  My natural inclination, when the kids are awake, is to put down my book and play with them, take pictures of them, or read to them.  And I do a lot of those things.  But I also know that it’s important and beneficial for them to see me reading to myself for pleasure and enjoyment.  I remind myself that I am setting an example for them and laying the groundwork for them to become lifetime readers, too – and that helps with the guilt and FOMO when I pick up a book while they’re awake.  (What I do try not to do while they’re awake is to scroll through my phone.)
  • I read while commuting.  Again, this is a bit personal to me, but I’m blessed with a commute on public transportation and the ability to read without getting motion sick (most of the time, unless I’ve let myself get too hungry).  My commute is about 30 minutes each way, so that’s an hour of reading every weekday, right there – provided I get a seat, which isn’t a given, at least on the homeward leg of my commute.  (I hate holding a book in one hand.)  This will change when the Metro closes my station for a few months this summer, but I’ve got a big backlog of audiobooks to get me through.
  • I always have a book with me.  I’m actually not one for pulling out my book in the grocery line, unless it’s really long.  I’ll usually make use of that time to scroll through Instagram, text with my BFF, or catch up on blog reading.  But I’ve always got the book as a backup – for waiting rooms (I know you’ll all agree with me that the DMV is much nicer when you have reading material), the occasional coffee shop break, or pockets of found time.  It adds up.
  • I know what I like, and I read it.  Finally – I think reading is much like anything else, in that when you have momentum, it’s easier to keep going.  I’ve been an avid reader as long as I can remember and at this point, I’m pretty good about knowing what I’m going to like and what I’m less likely to enjoy, and I pick up the books I think I’ll like.  I’m not actually a big book abandoner, although I will DNF something if I really hate it.  (I think the last time I DNFed a book, it was because of excessive gratuitous F-bombs.)  I’m good enough at choosing books for myself that I’m usually enjoying whatever I happen to have going at the moment, so curling up with a book is a treat to enjoy and not a chore to avoid.

These aren’t really tips, I know.  Most of them are very personal to me and to my particular concoction of fast reading speed, public transit commute and iron stomach.  Without those factors, who knows?

What factors influence your reading pace?  Are you trying to read more, or are you happy with your numbers?