A Few of My Favorite Things

While I did not get to see The Sound of Music a couple of weeks ago, I have still heard Maria singing "Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens..." over and over in my head, because lately, I have discovered a few of my favorite things.

What favorite things would you hope to encounter in Seattle? For me, it would be books, coffee, and breathtaking landscapes. I think I may have found the best of all three :)

Books

With two little chicken wings that have still not started school, I am afraid I have not been able to peruse any old book shops located here in the city. Does anyone else have visions of beautifully bound covers falling onto the floor one after the other? However, I am not sure that any can compare to the one I've found at my virtual fingertips at Lanier's Books.

I feel honored to call Lanier my friend. I remember my Dad asking me the question, "Who are your role models in motherhood and homemaking?" It startled me because I think we, all of us, need a standard to look to in a world where these two callings are ever being challenged...but where do you look...Jennifer Anniston? Martha Stewart? Kate plus Eight? I am going to have to stop because I can feel a tangent coming on strong, but the bottom line is, Lanier is one of the very few people I was able to list.

I wrote about a trip I had to her house, here, if you want to get a better picture of her gracious nature and homemaking prowess (Consider yourself warned: It was before I was into taking pictures--there are none. There are a lot of over-the-top descriptions though :)) Lanier is also a great reader and a writer. It was through her, via my friend Lauren, that I learned there were actually authors out there, besides Jane Austen, who could make my heart pound out of my chest and release my imagination to gloried heights. So, learning that she was opening a book shop was one of the most exciting pieces of news I've had in a long time. Have you ever walked into a store and known that you would delight in every. single. item. on the shelf???? That's a dangerous place to be :)

These are my first two selections:

And I've told Jeremiah he will never again have to worry about finding me a birthday or Christmas present. "Just email Lanier from now on..." I told him.

Coffee

I have found that coffee here is very serious business. Yes, it is the home of Starbucks, but I have seen quite a few local noses lifted high in the air over the thought of the franchise. Apparently it is not the gold standard I thought it to be...not even close. I am not sure if you should trust me (in my opinion you should not trust the palate of a girl who craves Taco Bell and Quarter Pounders with Cheese), but I have talked to a person or two who seem to have a much more developed palate than my own. Vivace is the favorite if you want to stop in off the street, but Storyville is the best delivered to your door.

Azurae took me for a tour of Storyville's "roasting studio" on Bainbridge Island, and it felt a little bit like Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory for coffee. Dream a coffee dream and we can make it come true...

Everything is so well done. Pristine and beautiful...and a lot of fun in there too. Lots of interesting people and art and music and big Apple computers that make things look super official. I kind of wanted to ask if they needed any extra help. Like maybe I could be the one to play the piano while the beans are roasting...

No, you don't do that? Well, could I drive the little forklift thingey?

OR run the roaster?

Or stamp the freshness date on each bag?

Or drive the delivery vans?

Really, I'd be willing to do any of the above if you'd keep letting me drink the coffee :) No, you'd just like me to please exit quietly with my children before they break everything in here?

It really was the most flavor I've ever tasted in a cup of coffee, without the bitter dregs left on my tongue. They told me that feeling means the beans are burned...I think that's what they said anyway. Their theory is that it is actually cheaper and more efficient in the long run, to brew a really great cup of coffee yourself, than it is to go out and buy it in a coffee shop one cup at a time. You should try a bag of your very own, but be sure and watch their video on how to make a proper cup first. My gracious! Did you know there was so much to coffee?!

Breathtaking Landscapes
If you followed along on our journey out here, you may remember me talking about how the last stretch of interstate into Seattle was the prettiest part of the drive, to me. We were a little too busy praying/feeling completely overwhelmed for me to take pictures then. However, a couple of weekends ago (on our way back from Leavenworth) we made that same drive west on I90 through the Snoqualmie National Forest. I had my camera ready this time (Although it was getting too late for our hungry children for us to stop, so these were all taken while holding my camera above my head out the top of Jeremiah's jeep...hence the blurs and the tail-lights)

Little Women

"I want my daughters to be beautiful, accomplished, and good; to be admired, loved and respected; to have a happy youth, to be well and wisely married, and to lead useful, pleasant lives, with as little care and sorrow to try them as God sees fit to send. To be loved and chosen by a good man is the best and sweetest thing which can happen to a woman; and I sincerely hope my girls may know this beautiful experience. It is natural to think of it, Meg; right to hope and wait for it, and wise to prepare for it; so that, when the happy time comes, you may feel ready for the duties and worthy of the joy. My dear girls, I am ambitious for you, but not to have you make a dash in the world,--marry rich men merely because they are rich, or have splendid houses, which are not homes because love is wanting. Money is a needful and precious thing,--and, when well used, a noble thing,--but I never want you to think it is the first and only prize to strive for. I'd rather see you poor men's wives, if you were happy, beloved, contented, than queens on thrones, without self-respect and peace."
--Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

Book Review

With all of the Flossy Finching I've been doing, I've done a lot more listening than reading books lately. So, first, the audio books that have brought some cerebral stimulation to an otherwise monotonous task.


Great Expectations by Charles Dickens: Well, if nothing else, this one sure brought about a steamy post :). Really, I loved this book. It's so Dickens with all of its unforgettable characters, gloomy English hardships, and unsuspected twists. It's a classic, need I say more?


The Enneagram by Richard Rohr: Do you want to be fascinated? Do you want to change the way you relate to people? Do you want to understand why you respond to stress like you do? Do you want to become a number :)? Taylor's (my sister) in-laws (Mrs. Lee you seem like so much more than that horrible title!) gave me these CDs. The Enneagram is an oral tradition that has been passed down...forever (seemingly) among different people groups. To make it as simplistic as possible: Everyone falls under a number, 1 through 9, and once you discover which number you are, you discover what you always knew but were afraid to admit--even to yourself--why you act like you do. No, really, why. It's FASCINATING, and for any of you out there who know what I'm talking about, I'm a one...surprise, surprise :) And, just think how much more patient you could be with your spouse if you found out why they acted so weird ;)


The Twilight Series by Stephanie Meyer: I am humiliated to list these books, but I COULD NOT stop listening to them. If you received your Flossy Finch order in double fast time, it was probably because I was stitching like a drug addict so that I would have an excuse to listen to these books. They are ridiculous. They are poorly written. They are, as my friend Melissa said, teenage porn. BUT they are good. Yes, they are about vampires, werewolves, and their love affair with a human girl (what in the world?!), but somehow you will not be able to get enough of Bella, Edward, Jacob and all their oddities. Honestly, I thought that the writing got better in the last two books...or maybe I'd just become accustomed to bad writing by that point :)


Tipperary by Frank Delaney: I got this book because I asked the librarian over here at the crest-hood library if they had any classics in the audio books section and she said, "What do you mean, like Nicholas Sparks?" I saw we weren't getting anywhere fast, and since Pace and Dapples were actively pulling books off the shelves behind me, I grabbed this, because...the cover at least looked like it was set in another time period. While it was set in Ireland at the turn of the century, and while I did totally identify with the narrator's deep love of the land, it was slow, SLOW. If you made a Flossy Finch order and it was weeks late, it was probably because I had a hard time making myself sit down and listen to this book.


Just After Sunset by Stephen King: This is a collection of short stories by Stephen King. I'd heard from several different people that, despite his normal subject matter, Stephen King really was a great writer. I'd been wanting to test the truth of that statement for years, but was too chicken to commit to reading one of his horrors as I lay in bed at night. So, when I was looking for something for Jeremiah and I to listen to on our road trip a few weeks ago, this sounded like the perfect thing. Mystery/horror AND short-stories, Jeremiah's favorites, and for me, a way to read King and still have strong arms to hold me if I got scared.


He is a good writer. I actually cried in the prologue, as he described the beginning of his life as a writer and why he HAS to write. I went into it open-minded, even giving him the benefit of the doubt, but you can't spend three-fourths of a story describing the step by step mutilation/attempted rape of the narrator and expect me to LIKE it. Everything seemed about the suspense...even if it wasn't scary...and after a while that will wear on your nerves even if you aren't a chicken and you like blood and gore...which I don't.



Now, the books I took the time to actually read.


Villette by Charlotte Bronte: This was a hard one. I love Jane Eyre, and I liked this book, but it was hard to get through--with all its French phrases that I didn't understand (was every educated English girl fluent in French, because I felt like an idiot?) and heroine that never did one heroic act. I just wanted to slap her around and say, "Stand up for yourself dadgummit, because nobody else is and you're growing more pathetic by the moment!"

It had its good moments, when I just knew things were about to start looking up for the puny little heroine...but it never really got better. And the ending, after all that committed reading, was HORRIBLE. Artistic, probably, but don't drag me through the mire and then leave me with so little resolution. I don't care how artistic you think you are.


China Court by Rumer Godden: Loved LOVED LOVED this book. Wrote a post about it here.


Mornings on Horseback by David McCullough: Biographies are not generally my thing. Even McCullough biographies. Jeremiah loves them, my Dad can't get enough of them...I just don't get it. I mean, I understand that it is nice to feel like you are actually learning something...historical while you do your pleasure reading. It's just so dry! normally.

However, while I did not zip through this book, unable to put it down, I did genuinely like it. The Roosevelt family, break it down one member at a time, is SO MUCH like Jeremiah's family that it was fascinating to me. Now, everybody's lives in the Maddox clan are not over, and I hope that they all come to better ends than most of the Roosevelts, but just talking personalities...it's scary. And the hardships Teddy has to overcome to become the man we now know him to be, is amazing. I cried like a baby (in the middle of the Denver airport to be exact) when Greatheart died. And then again (in the air this time), as Teddie said goodbye to two of the dearest women in his life. As far as biographies go, it is definitely a winner.


Mythology by Edith Hamilton: Do you feel stupid when you read classic books and over and over they make mythological references that mean NOTHING to you? I do. And I was ready to do something about it. This book is supposed to be the most reader friendly AND comprehensive collection of mythological tales. Now, I most certainly did not get through the whole book, but I did read enough that I feel much more educated, and I now have it as a nice little reference book waiting for me on my bookshelf the next time I start feeling insecure.


A Speckled Bird by Augusta Evans Wilson: High Victorian. I say that every time I review one of this author's books, but it's true. There is drama, and fainting, and love stories that work out despite ALL the odds. I love it, and I love this Southern, female writer. I have a pet theory that she was insecure about her lack of proper education, and therefore feels the need to use every big word and mythological reference she can come up with to try to prove to us all that she really is smart. Go ahead and keep Edith Hamilton beside you on the couch for this one :) (And if you didn't notice, it was this book I was celebrating in that last post).


The first half of this book is not as good as the second half, but persevere, because if you do then you get this in the ever-so-dramatic conclusion (this is the hero professing his love to our heroine):

"I will not accept compassion or friendly sympathy. All--or none. I want love--love that brings a pure woman gladly to her husband's breast. Once you took some solemn vows for me, invoking the presence of the Lord you worship. Now, trusting you implicitly, knowing you will not deceive me, I must ask you to give me one final pledge. If you cannot love me as I wish--if your heart, your whole heart, will never belong to me--then, calling God to witness the truth of your words, look me straight in the eyes and tell me so."

She trembled, shut her eyes, and, as a rich red rushed into her white cheeks, she covered her face with her hands.

A gust of wind shook the mimosa, and on her bowed head drifted the pink silk filaments, powdering her brown coil and puffs.

Very gently Mr. Herriott took the trembling little hands, kissed the palms, and, drawing her slowly, tenderly toward him, lifted her arms to his neck, holding them there.

With a low broken cry she surrendered.

"Mr. Noel, you have broken my heart."

He waited to steady his voice.

"My proud darling, there seemed no other way. When it heals, please God, I shall have my thrown inside."

China Court

I am only 74 pages into a book, and I can already tell it is going to be one of my lifetime favorites. It is China Court by Rumer Godden, and it has nothing to do with the Orient (if you are like me and completely turned off by the title, thinking that you are about to be immersed in Chinese Culture). The book is about the generations of a family who have all lived and loved and died in this house--China Court. I bet you'll never guess where the house is located :)--oh wow, that's a change, THE ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE in the 1800's to mid-1900's.

If I could place an order to heaven for the kind of writer I'd like to be, I think I would be Rumer Godden. Her words are so rich, and thoughts so provoking, that I want to savor every bite. She creates the sights, and sounds, and smells, and touches of home so perfectly delicious that you will want to cry. But (at least so far) it's never too much. I never find myself skimming over her descriptions to get to the meat of the plot, because her words are not over-flowered, they are simple. She takes simple words and makes them beautiful:

"If he had seen me at any other time he would never have liked me," said Tracy afterwards. "He wouldn't have let himself like me," and it was true that he would not have spoken to her if he had seen her as she had first appeared to Cecily that early morning; in her traveling suit and matching coat she would have been like any of the girls in the world he had run away from--St. Omerland he called it now--and instinctively he would have run away from her too, but now she had tied one of Cecily's aprons round herself and was getting breakfast....As he saw her now she was standing at the table slicing bread, too absorbed to see him. Behind her the range was well alight, making the gentle rushing sound of a fire drawing well up the chimney; the front was open and the glow filled the room. There was a smell of breakfast, and Peter felt almost faint remembering the mug of coffee, half warmed and full of grits, that he had snatched before milking,...but the smell that assailed him now was of coffee, fresh and hot, of milk simmering, of bacon and fresh toast, of warmed china.

Am I crazy to think something as simple as that beautiful? Do the words "warmed china" make anybody else's heart melt at the thought of what a snug kitchen that must be? Does anybody else want their husbands to walk in the door and be caught up in raptures of thankfulness at the sight of you slicing fresh bread in a simple apron? I just love her writing, and I can't express why.

Then there was this paragraph on hands that actually made me cry. I have a thing for hands, always have. One of my most vivid memories from "the drama" of mine and Jeremiah's dating relationship has to do with the sight of his hands--those hands calloused from throwing hay bales and picking his guitar, with short nail beds from his dirty biting habit, and so much bigger than mine. Hands that had cupped my face and swallowed my own inside his as we walked through the woods at night. I saw THOSE hands, resting casually on his light bluejeans, on top of his knees, and those knees were bumping playfully up against the knees of a girl he had brought home with him from Montana--because he wasn't sure that SHE was not "the one" for him. It wasn't the sight of the two of them together on a haybale at The Maddox barn Bible study that sent me over the edge, it was the sight of his hands so close to hers and the terrifying thought that they might grab hold of her as well.

That is the first time I recollect hands representing a whole person to me, but since then I could list a dozen times that the remembrance of someone's hands that I love has brought me to my knees. The last thing I did before I left Mom, was touch her hands. Wanting to blaze in my mind one last time, the sensation of feeling warmth from them. Anyway, I came in here this morning to tell you how much I love a book, and I've worked myself all into a tizzy. I'll just leave you with Rumer Godden's paragraph on hands:

"And we have been here all that time?"

"The house has never changed hands."

"Hands?" asks Tracy, startled.

"Yes, hands." Hands to direct, to sign letters and write cheques for bills, to put a latchkey in the lock and bolt the doors at night. Other hands that hold keys too, but household keys; write notes that are dispatched,...These hands often write recipes: "Our apple jelly with lavender and rosemary flavouring." "Our duck with cherries." "Our velvet cream." The recipe book is still in the kitchen and Tracy's Great-Great-Grandmother Adza's velvet cream is still made on rare and especial occassions. These lady-like hands sew and knit; garden--but in gloves--play whist, leave cards, rub ointment on bruises; smooth hair back from hot foreheads, spank. There are younger, slimmer hands that embroider, and do the flowers, play the piano, cut the pages of novels, sketch--"and twiddle their thumbs," says Eliza. There are small hands, very often dirty, that pry and poke, into cupboards, workbaskets, jam-pots; make mud pies and cut out paper dolls;...There are humbler deft hands that sweep and dust, wash china and clothes and linen; iron, mend, sew, cook, bake, make fires and beds, sound gongs, carry trays; and rougher hands still that chop wood, clean shoes, groom, dig, wash the motorcar, mow the lawn, "but all our hands," says Mrs. Quin.

"All belonging." And Tracy gives a sigh of content.

Book Review

Boring, but here it is. (I have waited 7 months between reviews, so at least they aren't too frequent).

The Bird in the Tree by Elizabeth Goudge: I CANNOT say enough about this book and Pilgrim's Inn which will be down a couple on this list. It has everything I love in a book. The beauty of the English countryside, love and all the turmoil that comes with it, the thoughts of children (and even a couple of beloved dogs), and it is set in another time period (although more recent for me than usual--the 1940's). Goudge creates memorable characters that will implant themselves in your heart, while growing in you a greater sense of value for home and family and the importance of unity therein.

American Pastoral by Philip Roth: Quite frankly, I hated this book. We got a little crazy in our book club and invited a guest speaker to recommend a book and then come and "teach" us. Everyone felt like having the guest was a nice change-up, but the book he recommended... It is the story of THE All-American man, who himself grew-up in "the War years," but who raises his family during the sixties. The message I got from it was, "No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you succeed, your life can still turn out like utter crap, because in the end, you just are not in control. In fact, for the simple reason that you do try to be good, your life may turn out extra crappy." It got great reviews, and I am sure it is a good piece of literature, but it was most definitely not my cup of tea. (I will also add that there is a healthy dose of lude and bad language, and since I was listening to it on CD it was extra hard to swallow).

Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: Jeremiah and I read these short stories out loud to each other, sitting by the fire or curled in bed at night, and made some wonderful memories. We enjoyed it so much we even named our dog after the book :) Tales of intrigue, solved by superb deduction skills, and set in, where else?, England. It was fun to stop throughout the stories and ask what the other predicted would happen, and they are just the right length for reading out loud. We even read a couple with Jeremiah's whole family while we were home over Christmas. Truly great, and I am still wishing I could give Watson a big fat hug!

The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards: This is the story of a family in the sixties, who has twins, one of which is born with Down's Syndrome. The father gives the Downs baby away and tells the mother that the little girl died. (I am not really giving anything away because that all happens in the first couple of chapters.) The rest of the book is the back-lash of his decision. The storyline is appalling, and you will want to find out what happens, but the writing... At first I thought, "Wow, this lady is creating some good imagery and I can see she's going to use a lot of symbolism." Oh but then, she used the exact same imagery in the next chapter and the next... And then she felt like we weren't smart enough to catch her "deep" symbollic meaning, so she would EXPLAIN the symbol, right there in the middle of her story, and it cheapened it so much. Anyway, this is just another example of a decent book that is ruined because it was written in the last fifty years :)

Pilgrim's Inn by Elizabeth Goudge: I've said it before, and I'll say it again--I LOVE THIS BOOK! It's the second in the Eliot family series, and it will warm your heart and make you smile--I PROMISE. It's hard to tell what these stories are about without giving them away. So, you'll just have to trust me :) I have posted this quote before, but in case you missed it a couple of years ago:

They had both been married and borne children. Lucilla knew always, and Nadine knew in her more domesticated moments, that it was homemaking that mattered. Every home was a brick in the great wall of decent living that men erected over and over again as a bulwark against the perpetual flooding in of evil. But women made the bricks, and the durableness of each civilization depended upon their quality, and it was no good weakening oneself for the brick-making by thinking too much about the flood.

That quote right there partially explains why I hate books like American Pastoral so much. I feel like I am always fighting the flooding in of evil--into my own heart, my children's hearts, and my home in general. Why do I want to read a book that weakens me more--that drives home the knowledge of the evil that's seeping under my door? I know it's there, I feel it, but I chose not to dwell on it. What good does that do? Ok, off my soap box.

If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland: My friend Lauren gave me this book, and it affected me profoundly. It is not just about writing, it's about (as the subtitle says) art, independence and spirit. Any person who has an inkling towards any artistic endeavour could benefit from reading this book. I think it is best described by my two favorite quotes:

For what we write today slipped into our souls some other day when we were alone and doing nothing...It is on another day that your ideas and visions are slowly built up, so that when you take your pencil there is something to say that is not just superficial and automatic,...,but it is true and has been tested inwardly and is based on something.

[And the note I wrote at the bottom of this page in my book. I will also add that I've been doing some other writing besides the blog. It will probably never amount to anything, but I have been working on a couple of things.] I have felt so guilty about how slowly I seem to perform tasks--simple things like cleaning the kitchen, making the bed, or taking a shower--knowing that a lot of the cause of my slowness is that my mind is always forming thoughts, trying to wrap itself around ideas. But this quote is so true. It's these "idle," slow times when my writing, the hard part at least, is done. I should NOT always be telling myself to save that thinking and mulling for my "writing time."

In fact that is why the lives of most women are so vaguely unsatisfactory. They are always doing secondary and menial things (that do not require all of their gifts and ability) for others and never anything for themselves. Society and husbands praise them for it (when they get too miserable or have nervous breakdowns) though always a little perplexedly and half-heartedly and just to be consoling. The poor wives are reminded that that is just why women are so splendid--because they are so unselfish and self-sacrificing and that is the wonderful thing about them!...

So, if you want your children to be musicians, then work at music yourself, seriously and with all your intelligence. If you want them to be scholars, study hard yourself. If you want them to be honest, be honest yourself. And so it goes.

And that is why I say to the worn and hectored mothers in the class who longed to write and could not find a minute for it:

"If you would shut your door against the children for an hour a day and say:'Mother is working on her five-act tragedy in blank verse!' you would be surprised how they would respect you. They would probably all become playwrights."

They look at me wistfully and know it is true. But after all of these centuries of belief that women should be only encouragers and fosterers of talent in others, and have none of their own (as though you can effectively foster or encourage other people's talent unless you have a great deal of your own!) it is hard to do, I know that. But if women once learn to be something themselves, that the only way to teach is to be fine and shining examples, we will have in one generation the most remarkable and glorious children.

I would like to highlight one point that she sort of skims over. I fully believe it is important, as women, to cultivate those parts of our lives that give us joy and meaning OUTSIDE of our children. However, she does say to close the door for an hour, not all day :) and I am fully aware that you can't very well close the door on LITTLE children,...but they do nap (most days :))

East of Eden by John Steinbeck: My Dad gave me this book for Christmas. He RARELY reads fiction, but a friend of mine suggested he try this one out, and he could not put it down...I couldn't either. It is the story of Cain and Able, played out merry-go-round fashion in the lives of a family in, where else, but Salinas Valley California. Your insides will writhe at the competition between the sets of brothers and you will be dying to know how Steinbeck will make it work out in the end.

One thing of note is that Steinbeck creates a flat character that is the epitome of evil. I was amazed by his ability to give her NO redeeming qualities-conscience, kind acts, reasons from childhood to be mean, nothin'--but still make her believable and keep her out of the annoyingly archetypal realm.

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer: But Mom, everybody's doing it! That is the phrase that comes to mind when I admit to you that I read this book. It is a page-turner. The story line is captivating and creepy and sensual, all rolled into one. So I see why everybody is doing it, BUT the writing is such crap, I was rolling my eyes and yelling at the CD player (I listened to it after renting it from Cracker Barrel on one of my many recent road trips), "You have got to be kidding me?! If you describe, one more time, in the exact same words as 2 minutes ago, how perfectly beautiful that guy is, I am going to come in there and smack you in the face!" It drove me nuts. The same exaggerated adjectives over and over and over about the same cheesy boy-vampire. Anyway, I haven't read any more of the series, because I refuse to waste brain cells on it. BUT, I am not saying if I walked into a Cracker Barrel and saw book 2 on CD, that I wouldn't immediately snatch it off the shelf to find out what happens.

One more thing and I will gladly leave this one, but a sweet friend of mine (who has read all however many books in the series), quietly defended these to me the other night by saying they were meant "for high schoolers." I am sorry friend, but after some deliberation I've decided that that is no excuse. The Secret Garden, Heidi, The Chronicles of Narnia...all of these books are for adolescents and yet they are still BEAUTIFULLY well written. Just because it is meant for young adults, doesn't mean it is allowed to be crap.

Growth of the Soil by Knut Hamsun: I did not actually read all of this one, only read parts of it aloud to Jeremiah, and heard the rest of the story through updates from him. I wanted to list it because it is so different from anything I have ever read, but it was still very good. It is the story of a man, who steps into life with no other plan except to work hard and live off the land. He heads into the Norwegian wilderness all alone, to do just that, but of course life keeps coming along to try and complicate matters. Jeremiah loved the story-line, I liked it but am not sure I would have been as enthralled as he was (are you surprised :)?) BUT, the thing that captivated me was the simplicity of the writing, and how a lot of it was still so beautiful that it sounded like poetry. Hamsun uses no extra verbage, in fact, he leaves much to be inferred by the reader as to his character's true personality and motivation. I think Jeremiah put it best when he said (after finishing), "I feel like I just sat down in a dark whole of a pub, and had a beer with a salt-of-the earth kind of guy, who told me the life story of his best friend. He didn't glorify it or dance around any of it, just told it straight and let me make up my own mind. But, now that it's over, I feel like I've made a life-long friend."

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte: If you've never read this classic, you are missing out. If you have read it back in high school (and eighth grade, like I did) and you think you should check it off your list, then don't. I got SO MUCH more out of this book as an adult, and married woman, than I did back in the day. I understood the deep love and humor and sacrifice, in a deeper way than I could before, and it is always nice to re-visit an old friend.

If you don't know, it is the story of a poor, abused orphan girl and her road to happiness. It is a bumpy road, and the book is very Gothic--with screams coming from the attic and eery, surprising twists. It is GOOD.

Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm by Kate Douglas Wiggin: Here is another example of a children's book that is still of superb quality. It's a quick read, but you will love Rebecca, with all of her spunk and mistakes and well-meaning heart. There is not really a love story, but the one in there, I must admit, is a little disturbing for our day and age. This would be a great book to read out loud to a little girl (she just needs to be a bit older than either of mine). I actually bought this book randomly at an antique store because I remembered Mom telling me it was one of her favorites as a child. I'll leave you (FINALLY!) with a quote from this book that rings very true in our house:

Her love of books she inherited chiefly from her mother, who found it hard to sweep or cook or sew when there was a novel in the house. Fortunately books were scarce, or the children might sometimes have gone ragged and hungry.

Maybe I need to buy a few less books :)

Book Review

I have got to start doing this more frequently. Partly, so it won't be so long and boring for you to read, and partly because I don't remember the books very well after 6 months! I am not even certain this is everything I've read. Anyway, here's what I can remember of my books:

(Those are flowers Jeremiah's parents sent us for our 5 year anniversary. Aren't they gorgeous?!)

Watership Down by Richard Adams: This was an endearing story of some little rabbits on a big adventure. It's a tale of leadership, friendship, and courage. They have their own language and you will soon find yourself hungry for your silflay :) While I enjoyed this, I am not yearning to read it again.

North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell: If you are a Jane Austen fan, I want to highly suggest you give this author a try. She is not widely known in the states, but in England she is fondly referred to as Mrs. Gaskell. She has three main books that she is known for, this one, Wives and Daughters, and Cranford. I haven't read Cranford (I did buy it a couple of weeks ago though :)), but I can attest that these other two are EXCELLENT.

N&S is the tale of England's industrialized North and farming community South (while similar in their utilities, this book is not like our North and South--in case you were all depicting a diatribe on the slave trade). Of course it is a love story but this hero, unlike Austen's landed gentry, is a man who has pulled himself up by his own boot-straps. If any of you other red-blooded Americans sometimes balk at the idea of a hero who spends his days doing, well, what the heck do they do anyway?, then this book will give you someone with a work ethic to croon over. Now there is a lot of talk about the upheaval of the social system at this point in history, the crassness of an industrial family with money over the established nobleman, and the need for reform in the lower classes. I wish I could tell you that I didn't read these parts very quickly in order to find the next scene with my heroine and her hero... I retained very little besides a general knowledge :) So, if you like Jane Austen and have been despaired by the idea that there are only 6 books out there for you, give Mrs. Gaskell a go. I can't imagine you'd be disappointed!

Surprised by Joy by C.S. Lewis: I may have listed this one on my last list as well. I LOVE Lewis, but I have to take him in small doses since he is so over my head. As always, I was amazed by his intelligence, his ability to make complex things seem simple, and I was encouraged to know that someone as smart as he is, was a devout agnostic who proved to himself through reason and conviction (against his own will) that our God is God. It makes me think, "Whew! I may not have understood everything he just said, but I sure am glad to know we are on the same page!"

The title, Surprised by Joy, comes from the idea that before Lewis became a Christian he felt stabs of Joy in his life through literature or nature... He became somewhat depressed at the realization that he was never able to hold on to that feeling he craved. He searched for it everywhere and tried basically everything the world had to offer him on his quest, only to find in the end, that this world is fallen, our glimpses of joy are merely glimpses of a God that is Joy. I loved the last paragraph of this book, where he explains that after receiving Christ, he experienced Joy much more often, but he ceased to notice it as much. This is so Lewis:

But what, in conclusion, of Joy? for that, after all, is what the story has mainly been about. To tell you the truth, the subject has lost nearly all interest for me since I became a Christian. I cannot, indeed, complain, like Wordsworth, that the visionary gleam has passed away. I believe (if the thing were at all worth recording) that the old stab, the old bittersweet, has come to me as often and as sharply since my conversion as at any time in my life whatever. But I now know that the experience, considered as a state of my own mind, had never had the importance I once gave it. It was valuable only as a pointer to something other and outer. While that other was in doubt, the pointer naturally loomed large in my thoughts. When we are lost in the woods the sight of a signpost is a great matter. He who first sees it cries, "Look!" The whole party gathers round and stares. But when we have found the road and are passing signposts every few miles, we shall not stop and stare. They will encourage us and we shall be grateful to the authority that set them up. But we shall not stop and stare, or not much; not on this road though their pillars are of silver and their lettering of gold. "We would be at Jerusalem."

As I reread that last paragraph it made me think of all of you, and the things you shared with me in the last post about when you feel God's pleasure. Almost everyone sighted happenings from their everyday. Nothing life-changing or earth-shattering, because, as Christians that is what He created us to experience...His Joy, His provision, His pleasure, in all aspects of our lives. Thank you for sharing; it blessed me.

At the Mercy of Tiberius by Augusta Evans Wilson: I have written about Wilson before...how she is the first accomplished author from Alabama and has also been called the "foremost Southern novelist of her time." Now she is Victorian--HIGH Victorian. Meaning that her heroines are perfect, her heroes are dashing, bold and handsome, and the stories are extremely dramatic--I love every minute of it! Unlike N&S, this IS the story of our own beloved South--before the Civil War. It was intriguing to me to see slavery written about as the norm in a novel, and also to read about the pine tree forests I know so well (instead of a remote English countryside that I can only try to picture), described by an excellent author.

I think she wanted to be sure she was not overlooked by her male counterparts as being a flighty woman, because Lord-have-mercy sometimes I felt like I was reading a mythologically biased dictionary. If I knew the slightest inkling about mythology, maybe I wouldn't have minded so much, but I don't! So, you will probably have to do a little skimming in this one as well, but the story is oh so worth it.

It's hard to tell you much about the story without giving anything away. There is a twist awaiting around each page turn. But Beryl, our heroine, has lived a life of virtue only to have everything stripped away from her and find herself at the mercy of strangers...one very handsome stranger in particular. She is torn by her faithfulness to her dying mother, her mysterious vagabond brother, her own pride, and that ever beating heart that she attempts to stifle. Ohh, I've made myself want to re-read!

Endurance by Alfred Lansing: This is for you guys out there (if there are any :)). I can't say that I read this book in its entirety, but I heard all about the beginning from Jeremiah (who was reading it and also made me watch the documentary) and I read the last third of it aloud to him on one of our road trips. It is the true story of Ernest Shackleton, a famous British explorer and arguably one of the best leaders that has ever lived. He leads an expedition of 28 men to Antartica. They are shipwrecked before attaining their goal of reaching the South Pole, and all 28 men make it home 2 YEARS later.

It is a story of courage, leadership, and man's will to survive. Jeremiah and I were both in tears at the end, and I hadn't even read the whole thing! Now, saying all that is good about it, I must also say that it was too intense for me. There were sereral times when I would put the book down, telling Jermiah my nerves could not stand one more moment of hopelessness and depravity. What they went through was just gut-wrenching, and he loved every minute of it. So, if you're a man and you like an adventure and you want to learn how to be a leader, I highly recommend this book (Jeremiah's Dad got so engrossed he finished it in 2 days). If you're a woman who likes a love story and you don't like your shoulders to be tense the entire time you read, then I suggest encouraging your husband to read it and tell you about it as he goes.

Laddie by Gene Stratton Porter: This is a sweet tale about Little Sister, in a house filled with older siblings. There is such a bond in this family, and their simple country life will speak to your heart. While Little Sister is our allie and narrator, never fear that I might possibly suggest a book to you that didn't involve love in some way. Laddie, her idol and big brother, is courting a forbidden girl (whose family came to the States from England for a mysterious reason) whose family is not Christian (at least by Mama's standards).

You'll love Little Sister, her adventures, her big heart, her mischievous times, and her intelligence. You'll laugh with her at the stodgy school marm, and roll your eyes with her at the over-pious church members. Freckles is near and dear to my heart, but Laddie is running a TIGHT second.

People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks: This is definitely a page turner. It tells the history of a famous (and valuable) Hebrew manuscript as it makes some harrowing escapes throughout history. You'll meet a girl fleeing a concentration camp, an ancient African prince forced into slavery, a Catholic priest struggling with addiction in Venice, and many more. It is a well planned plot and quite entertaining.

The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy: I will have to say that this was not one of my favorites, although it was my first introduction to Hardy, and I am thankful to say I now know him a bit. I felt like it was an intriguing examination of my own conscious. Hardy gives this book the byline: "A Story of a Man of Character," even though the opening scene of the novel reveals our "hero", Henchard, selling his wife in a drunken stupor. The rest of the book examines Henchard's life after this grave mistake. I say it examined my conscious because throughout the book I found myself frustrated with Henchard's unkind acts, but also asking myself what I would do in his situation? Does he have bad character or is he merely a victim of his circumstances? So, I said it wasn't my favorite, then I just told you I was intrigued... I also have issues with the "heroine," Elizabeth-Jane. She's a stoic. When have you ever met a truly stoic heroINE? It's OK for a man to not weep over his lost love, but when a woman lets it roll off her back, I don't know I just had issues with feeling for a character that had very little feeling herself. I liked it OK, but I just didn't feel much connection with it.

Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls: This is a memoir of a woman who is now (obviously) a writer and has an apartment on Park Ave. It opens with a scene of her riding in the back of a limo on the way to a party and seeing her mother digging through a dumpster. She is at first embarrassed that her mother will see/embarrass her and then is overcome with emotion at feeling that way towards her own mother. I was compelled to read on!

This is a very sad tale of parents who are so absorbed in themselves and their own needs, that their children are left to fend for themselves. I was amazed at Walls' ability to tell her story without any air of "woh-is-me," and her honesty, and her ability to show her readers both sides of the story... It was a fascinating trip and made me feel like I deserve a mother-of-the year award for simply giving food to my children.

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh: This book was reminiscent of The Great Gatsby and Catcher in the Rye. I know that sounds like an odd combination, but there is a decadence steeped in sadness that reminded me of Gatsby and a man on a desperate search for himself that reminded me of Holden in Catcher. Read this gripping metaphor the narrator conveys in the first chapter, comparing the army and marriage:

Here my last love died. There was nothing remarkable in the manner of its death...as I lay in that dark hour, I was aghast to realize that something within me, long sickening, had quietly died, and felt as a husband might feel, who, in the fourth year of marriage suddenly knew that he had no longer any desire, or tenderness, or esteem, for a once-beloved wife; no pleasure in her company, no wish to please, no curiosity about anything she might ever do or say or think; no hope of setting things right, no self-reproach for the disaster. I knew it all, the whole drab compass of marital disillusion; we had both been through it, the army and I, from the first importunate courtship until now, when nothing remained to us except the chill bonds of law and duty and custom....

It only gets worse from there. I'm just going to be honest when I tell you that this left me running into the next room to check on the pulse of my own marriage! I am sure you can tell, he is an excellent writer and this is one of the few places in the entire work where tragedy is spelled out plainly. The rest of the novel is pretty upbeat, filled with abiding male friendships (that are really much more accurately described as love) and a surprising love story.

I do feel the need to warn you that, while there are a couple of gay characters, the two main male characters are not gay, even though one carries a Teddy Bear around with him at Oxford, one gazes at the other lying in the grass and talks about how beautiful he is, and they sunbathe naked together...I don't know why I would have been confused :), but the critics (and the rest of the book) assure me that they are not. Just thought you might need some forewarning. I really liked this book. There are questions about God, Catholicism, love, marriage, alcoholism, and the "value" of interfering in each others' lives. All of that is played out on a beautiful back-drop of decadence: a Castle, Oxford, and Venice. If you don't want to read it, I think a movie just came out about it :)

In case you didn't notice, I linked all of these books to their search results on Abebooks.com I like Abe a lot better than Amazon for many reasons, one being they have a better search engine for books, making it easier for me to find old ones that I like. Our next book club book (my selection :)) is The Bird in the Tree by Elizabeth Goudge. It is the first in a series of three books Goudge wrote about the Elliot family. I have actually already read this one and it is GREAT!! So, if you want to read along with us, I will try to post my next review more quickly and we can talk about it.

A Favorite Quote

Since I didn't know the words for that last quote, I thought I'd make it up to you by writing one of my favorite quotes that I DO have all the words for. It's from Pilgrim's Inn by Elizabeth Goudge:

They had both been married and borne children. Lucilla knew always, and Nadine knew in her more domesticated moments, that it was homemaking that mattered. Every home was a brick in the great wall of decent living that men erected over and over again as a bulwark against the perpetual flooding in of evil. But women made the bricks, and the durableness of each civilization depended upon their quality, and it was no good weakening oneself for the brick-making by thinking too much about the flood.

Book Update

Several of you have sent emails asking what the "heaven" book I mentioned in the last posting is. So, I thought it might be time to go ahead and do another book update. With all that's been happening, my reading has slowed substantially, but it still hasn't come to a halt. Two of the books on this list I haven't actually finished reading, but here we go:

Freckles by Gene Stratton Porter: This was my selection for our book club. It is a kid's book, really, but it is wonderful. I actually retold the entire book to Mom on our last trip to the beach... It's the story of a little Irish orphan boy, filled with valor, a hard work ethic, and love for his "Swamp Angel." The book opens as he is running away from his first job out of the orphanage. He was abused because the plantation owner who hired him didn't know that he was missing an arm. The rest of the story is about how he overcomes his disability, finds "family," falls in love with an unobtainable beauty, and earns the respect of all he meets. It is very touching and has a surprise ending. Porter was also an avid nature lover and this colors the entire novel.

Middlemarch by George Eliot: This is one of the books that I haven't actually finished. I bought an antique copy, and it actually came with two of Eliot's books in one. For this reason, it is HUGE, and I had people at the doctor's office ask me if it was an antique Bible I was reading :) Perhaps it's the daunting size, or maybe the problem is that I watched my BBC movie and ruined all the surprises, but I have had a hard time getting into it. I have never started a book and not finished it, so I will get around to it eventually, but right now I've been too pre-occupied to read a book that isn't going to drag me along with it.

A Room with a View by E.M. Forster: Florence in springtime, English countryside, charming little community...this book has a great back-drop. The story, however, is a little on the strange side. This books shows the difference between loving someone from your mind and loving someone from your heart. Unfortunately, my heart never did fall in love with the "hero" of this novel...He was just a little flighty. I would recommend the movie over the book in this case, which is something I rarely would say.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier: I LOVE THIS BOOK! My love for reading started as a young girl reading my Mom's old Nancy Drew books. Perhaps that's why there has always been a special place in my heart for the mystery...the twist. This book has all the elements I love: rags to riches love story, English estates, old-world setting, and SUSPENSE. The creepy house matron, Ms. Danvers, is sure to make an ever-lasting impression on your psyche, and there are twists that will make you gasp out loud. I should probably clarify that this is just a Gothic novel and not Stephen King or anything like that. If you've read Jane Eyre, you will see some definite parallels. Rebecca was my favorite book in high school, and re-reading it as a wife was even better.

The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger: First of all, can you tell me how I am supposed to pronounce that author's last name :) There was a very nice black man at Books-a-Million who looked up this book title for me so that I could locate the book by the author's last name. I asked him to repeat it three times, turning more red with each re-pronunciation, until he finally laughed and said, "That girl was one letter off from being really wrong."

I decided to forgo our book club selection of the month because I read the first page and it sounded depressing. I decided there was enough in my life bringing sadness, and I just wanted an easy-to-read page turner to take me into some other fascinating world. I remembered this unusual title being mentioned by one of our book club members, so I decided to give it a go. It was a page-turner, the story line was very clever and must have taken a LOT of planning for the author. I have just still yet to find a book written in the last 15 years, about present-day society, that I would place on a level playing field with the old stuff. This, like most other new stuff I've read, seems to need to use crude language, or sex, or some convention like time traveling, to keep the reader's attention. Something about that just seems plastic to me.

Saying all that, I couldn't put this book down. It may have seemed a little plastic and a little raunchy at times, but the plot was intriguing. Unfortunately, I ran from a book that I thought had a depressing tone, straight into this book where a mother dies of cancer and other death that I hate to give away.

Heaven by Randy Alcorn: I haven't finished this one yet either, but it is fascinating. There is so much that I never knew! Alcorn does a good job of showing different opinions, and then stating his own. Everything (at least so far) has been based on Scripture. Did you know that the heaven that exists now is not the same heaven that we will live in for eternity? Did you know that the verse everyone quotes about there being no more tears or sorrow in heaven is referring to the New Jerusalem, not the intermediate heaven that exists now? Alcorn believes that the Saints (those in heaven now) can see those of us on earth, and they even pray for us. I won't give any more away, but I would highly recommend this book.

Book Update

The book update is back. So, that was the warning for any of you who aren't interested in this stuff. The books of the past few months have been much more varied than what I was reading before.

Atonement by Ian McEwan: This was a book club selection by my friend and blogger Melissa. It (like Memoirs of a Geisha) was very shocking to me to find a male author who could so poignantly express the ideas inside of a girl/woman's head. I like to believe that men can't possibly understand our complexities-heck, I can't understand them-but then a book like this comes along that makes me think twice. It was set during one of the World Wars (II I think, but don't quote me on that), and tells the story of Briony, a young, wealthy little girl who aspires to be a writer. Her great sense of imagination creates a tragic situation in her family, and ultimately alters the course of everyone's life in the story. It was a novel concept! The ending will also throw you for a loop (or as one member of the book club said, "made me want to throw that book out of my house as fast as I could"). Mainly, it will effect you. However, in all honesty I just didn't love it. The last half of the book takes you into the midst of the war, and I just don't like reading about war...there you go...shallow as it seems. BTW, there's a movie coming out about this book with Keira Knightley as Briony's sister. It looks really good, and you can see a preview on YouTube.

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas: Oh my goodness, I loved this book! I read The Three Musketeers way back in 8th grade and loved Dumas even then. Revisiting his work as a grown person was even more satisfying. I will warn you that it is LONG, and if you are as dumb as I am, then you'll need to stop at some point in your reading and create a character list with connection arrows all over the page. However, it reads like a soap opera. You will get so caught up in the detailed overlapping of these character's lives and fates that you won't be able to put it down. At its heart, it's the story of the ultimate revenge. At its soul, it's the story of love overcoming hate (at least I, in my idealistic view, interpreted it that way). It's awesome.

Ladies in Waiting by Kate Douglas Wiggin: My friend Lauren gave me this book as a birthday present, mainly because it is a beautiful copy of an antique book, and also because the author is the same as Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. It was a sweet collection of unrelated stories, all about different "ladies in waiting." It was a pleasant read, but not breathtaking.

Portrait of a Lady by Henry James: This was another book club selection, and I was very excited about it. I had never read anything by James and was eager to add him to my repertoire. The book commenced with these two sentences--

Under certain circumstances there are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea. There are circumstances in which, whether you partake of the tea or not--some people of course never do--the situation is in itself delightful.

Then, James gives us a sweeping view of tea, set up on the lawn of an English manor, on a breezy summer afternoon, with lush carpets, books and chairs arranged under the open arms of ancient trees. I thought it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship between woman and book...I was wrong. After 624 long pages of following Isabel Archer on her journeys through Europe, love, and friendships Henry James had the audacity to leave me with no definite ending. Maybe you are artistic, maybe this is the type of thing some of you find interesting, or maybe Henry James-the master of character formation-thinks that the plot is not nearly as important as helping you to know a character and thus infer your own ending. If any of that crap sounds good to you then, by all means, read away. I, however, like reading partly because it is a finite world. A world that has a beginning and a definite end. That's something we can't ever truly obtain in the "real world," because (unless you're dead) the story just keeps on developing. I consider it the responsibility of the author to take me through until the finish, and I think it's cowardly to do otherwise--I don't care if you call yourself an artist.

There were good parts of this book. The character description and development is truly brilliant. There is one character, who James never does anything but give positive qualities to, that you still find yourself uneasy about. You can't put your finger on it, but you just don't trust her. In the end, you discover that your feelings were justified, but I was fascinated by wondering how he managed to so subtlety create that ominous feeling.

There are some heart pounding declarations of love:

"I don't go off easily, but when I'm touched, it's for life. It's for life, Mrs. Archer, it's for life," Lord Warburton repeated in the kindest, tenderest, pleasantest voice Isabel had ever heard, and looking at her with eyes that shone with the light of a passion that had sifted itself clear of the baser parts of emotion--the heat, violence, the unreason--and which burned as steadily as a lamp in a windless place.

SO, I have written way too much on this one. In the beginning, it is great. Then, you will sink into despair and despondency as you wonder why anyone would ever get married when they could travel and have all sorts of men lying down to worship at their feet if they stay single. Your despair will only be deepened by the questionable ending unless you, like me, decide to believe beyond all other signs that Isabel Archer divorces her nasty husband and runs away with a man who has loved her from the start. Then, you can feel bad that you are one of those people who cheers for divorce. Enough.

The Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling: I thought this was the best book of the series (except for maybe Book 3). So good. Couldn't put it down. Thank you J.K. for giving me a nice ending--even an epilogue to satisfy my extra need for closure. I'm going to miss you Harry...

Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis: I call myself a great lover of C.S. Lewis, but recently I realized that I was saying that without even having read one of his most famous works. Oh my goodness, I could do an entire blog on this book alone. It must be read slowly--no more than a chapter or two at a time--because you have to give yourself time to absorb all the deep truth he throws at you. He has a way of taking the most complex issues and simplifying them down until you wonder how you ever could have missed it before. It has already changed the way I hear sermons. If you are like me, then there are phrases you use, as a Christian, which have some nebulous meaning to you, but you've probably never taken the time to really understand what you are saying: "sons of God", "becoming like Christ", "humility", "the Trinity", "one in the body of Christ", "begotten Son"... These phrases are filled with power and meaning, but I think most of us gloss right over them. Bottom line is you need to read this book. Not to mention that C.S. Lewis has such of fun, funny, and very British way of entertaining you while you learn.

God never meant man to be a purely spiritual creature. That is why He uses material things like bread and wine to put the new life into us. We may think this rather crude and unspiritual. God does not: He invented eating. He likes matter. He invented it. :)

He himself is the fuel our spirits were designed to burn, or the food our spirits were designed to feed on. There is no other. That is why it is just no good asking God to make us happy in our own way without bothering about religion. God cannot give us happiness and peace apart from himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing.

Middlemarch Quote

I just wanted to share a quote with all of you that I haven't been able to get enough of. It's from the book Middlemarch by George Eliot (BTW Eliot was actually a woman who published under this pseudonym). I haven't read the book, but I watched my BBC movie of it and loved it so much that I can't wait to read it. At its heart, it's the story of a woman who has great plans to do something grand with her life. In the world's view she fails, but in another sense she is as successful as any of us could ever dream to be. I heard this quote at the end of the movie and immediately rushed to the internet to copy the exact wording. It's scribbled on a piece of white computer paper and has been laying at various spots in my house, where I find myself picking it up over and over throughout the day to reflect on its beautiful meaning. At first, I thought it expressed the ideal of what any stay-at-home mom was striving to accomplish. However, now I see that it could really express the goal just about of anyone's life... So, without further ado, I'll just let you read it for yourself.

Her finely touched spirit had still its fine issues, though they were not widely visible. Her full nature, like that river of which Cyrus broke the strength, spent itself in channels which had no great name on the earth. But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.

--George Eliot, Middlemarch

I May Not Have Been Blogging but I HAVE Been Reading

If you aren't a reader, then you are going to want to skip this post altogether. I, however, have grown from a person who loves to read to a voracious reader who can't seem to feed my hunger enough. I read on the elliptical, at night while Jeremiah studies, while I eat lunch, while Pace plays in the backyard (I am sitting out there with her :)). I sometimes even devote an entire hour of Pace's precious nap time to a book that I simply can't put down. Let's just say that I never allow my life to have a dull moment, because there is always another book out there just waiting to become my friend.

The biggest dream I have for our home one day is for it to have a beautiful library, filled with antiqued copies of books that have sprinkled some amount of impression on my heart. Dark wood, deep window seats filled with pillows, overstuffed leather couches with throw blankets draped over their arms, book shelves that stretch from floor to ceiling, a big fire place, windows that look out over the countryside, and (most importantly) a ladder clinging to the bookcases that slides around the entire room. Ohhh, how I want to go there right now!

I decided that if I'm going to fill a whole library with books I've read, then I better get reading AND collecting these antique books slowly over time. I have already seen how quickly my mind forgets some of the dear friends it's met on its journey through a book's pages, so I want to keep track of a short summary of each.... I want to have a way to jog my memory when Pace asks me, one day, whether this book or that is a good one. So, one of the things I am going to try to do is keep a record here. These are the books I've read since (I just looked back at the last blog entry) the first of March, when I told you about the secret garden. Hopefully, you may find one or two that you'd like to try yourself :)

Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens: Jeremiah gave me a set of antique Dickens books for Christmas this year. I decided I needed to make a dent in them, so I started with Oliver Twist and then moved on to this novel. Honestly, it's not high on my recommendation list. I think a boy would probably like it better than I did, but there was more fighting than love story and that just doesn't suit my taste. Dickens, however, is such a master of description! In my own writing I find that that is what I lack the most, so this book was a very good learning tool.

It is set in 18th century England during the Gordon Riot, which were riots led by Lord George Gordon protesting against giving rights back to Catholics in England. We see the bitterness of these revolts through a love story between two people whose families are on opposite ends of this debate, a young man who joins the troops after losing in the game of love, and a handicapped young man named Barnaby Rudge who is naively pulled into the swelling tide of the riots. One of my favorite things about this book is the relationship between Barnaby and his mother. She so poignantly portrays the fact that there is something especially sweet about a handicapped child... What other boy, at the age of 25, would still lay his head on his mother's lap while she strokes his hair and reads him stories?

All in all, it is a moving story, with many ironically laughable moments. If the Lord ever gives us a child with a disability, I would definitely want to re-read this book. Otherwise, one reading was plenty.

Heidi by Johanna Spyri: After Barnaby, I was in need of a simple children's story! This fit my needs perfectly. Set in the Alps, Spyri tells a sweet story of a little girl with a heart filled with love. She transforms a hardened grandfather, a roguish young shepherd, an invalid old woman, a sickly rich girl, and a grieving doctor all by the way she loves them.

I will also say that all the descriptions of the cheeses, handmade by her grandfather, then toasted over the fire...served with scraps of bread and fresh milk in the cool mountain air...left me craving these items so much that it was all I ate for lunch for many days. I went straight to Publix from the gym one day, just to purchase some round cheese block that I could toast and a fresh baguette of white bread. I WAS in the first trimester of pregnancy, but you may want to go on a diet before you start this one.

The Shuttle by Frances Hodgson Burnett: Yes! this is the same lady who wrote The Secret Garden, but this book is for adults. Don't let the title turn you off, because before NASA, a shuttle could be a lot of things besides a rocket ship. In this novel, it represents the steamliners that carried people "quickly" between England and America. This is a story of love between two cultures, and the differences/similarities between British and American society. Here is a quote from The Shuttle, which encapsulates the novel's feeling on the subject of England:

"What could be more natural? We belong to it--it belongs to us. I could never be convinced that the old tie of blood does not count. All nationalities have come to us since we became a nation, but most of us in the beginning came from England. We are touching about it, too. We trifle with France and labour with Germany, we sentimentalise over Italy and ecstacise over Spain--but England we love.... Why are we not unconsciously pathetic about German cottages and Italian villas? Because we have not, in centuries past, had the habit of being born in them. It is only an English cottage and an English lane, whether white with hawthorn blossoms or bare with winter, that wakes in us that little yearning, grovelling tenderness that is so sweet. It is only nature calling us home."

Oh, don't you LOVE that! The heroine of this novel is a strong and extremely wealthy American girl, who has the sweetest relationship with her father and sister. There is an evil villain and plenty of love to go around. There is even a dear old gardener who will remind you of the one you loved in The Secret Garden. I would have to say that this is a must read!

Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons by Lorna Landvik: As you can tell by the title, this one was quite a departure from what I had been reading. It was our latest book club selection, and a fun, girly summer read. It begins in the 60's with a group of women who all live on the same street and start a book club...sound familiar Crestwood Literary Society?? :) We see not only the bond between women friends, but also the deeper issues that many have in their lives and how these problems change as they progress from the 60's to the 90's.

St. Elmo by Augusta Evans Wilson: Wilson is a female, Southern-American writer from the mid 1800's. It was so refreshing to read a beautifully written novel--reminiscent of Jane Autsen--set in the countryside of Georgia instead of distant England. To hear some of our own dear towns (like Chattanooga) referenced instead of an English town that I've never heard of, was very fun. I also knew springtime and summer in a southern landscape, instead of just depending on the writer's ability to describe it to me accurately enough.

Besides all that, this is yet another great love story. Sometimes I wonder how long it will take for me to get tired of the same scenario: female character, torn from the one her heart truly loves by insurmountable odds, who eventually finds a way of overcoming the odds for the sake of true love. The character's class, situation, love interest, and setting changes, but the underlying story is still the same. I will say that the heroine in this novel refused her heart just a few chapters too long for my taste, but there were many twists and turns that still surprised me. I would recommend this novel for any Jane Austen lover, especially if you're from the South.

(I need to also mention that there were A LOT of references to Greek mythology in this book that went so far above my head that it wasn't even funny. I don't now whether to tell you not to be discouraged when you're reading because if you're stupid then I'm stupid too, or whether I AM stupid and desperately need a course on mythology :))

The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis: The last book in the Chronicles of Narnia series, and the only one that Jeremiah and I had not read together. I read this aloud to him on our beach trip, and anybody who would read this book, will also have read the others in the series. Therefore, I know I don't need to express the importance of reading this one before you die :)

The Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling: I actually listened to this book on CD while I did laundry and other housework over the past month. Just getting prepared for the new release in July!

The Little Minister by J.M. Barrie: Finally, the book I just finished! Set in the small villages of Scotland during the 19th century (I think), we hear the controversial love story of the village minister. The Scottish brogue of the locals is hard to follow at first, but you get used to it. Soon you even enjoy it. It was abundantly clear to me that this was a love story told by a man. Barrie maddeningly leaves out the details of some of the heart fluttering moments. However, there are some fun twists and iconographic characters that make this book worth reading. My favorite quote from this book came right at the beginning:

"So was man created, to hunger for the ideal that is above himself, until one day there is magic in the air, and the eyes of a girl rest upon him. He does not know that it is he himself who crowned her, and if the girl is as pure as he, their love is the one form of idolatry that is not quite ignoble. It is the joining of two souls on their way to God."