Take two

Here's Maddy's first second day of school, sophomore year. It was a rainy + chilly day, perfect for the cheerful yellow rainboots and a cozy sweater. 

Oh, I love this girl.

^And even though this is a little overexposed, I love it anyway. It captures her.
Here, I'll add a slightly underexposed one to balance things out: 

. . .

When Maddy brought home all the paperwork and syllabi for the year, for some reason I recalled something Elizabeth Edwards once said. During her son Wade's early high school years she decided to read some of the books he was reading for class so they could discuss them and she could hear his burgeoning analysis and thoughts about life.* 

Brilliant. Now that the kids are older, I feel a bit separated from them in their studies. I'll proofread an essay here and there but mostly Lauren and now Maddy and Sam have sailed their own academic ships. So in light of that, I started thinking that I'll read along with Maddy on a few of her books this year. 

Here's the list for her sophomore English class: 

The Catcher in the Rye, Salinger
Song of Solomon, Morrison
The Turn of the Screw, James
A Separate Peace, Knowles
The Crucible, Miller
short stories, Shirley Jackson and others
Ender's Game, Card
The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald
Walden, Thoreau

And films:
The Front (Woody Allen)
Persons of Interest (Alison MacLean)
Walkout 

Pretty great books, right? It'd be kind of like a low-key, mother daughter book group. That I...crash and wrestle into my own territory and attend uninvited? Is this a sweet & lovely idea or borderline helicopter parentish?  I can't trust my judgment on these things anymore. I swing wildly from benign neglect to hovering. I blame the emptying nest and the fleeting years. Savor is my mantra. Gather and savor.

*p.s. In a sad turn of the story, later, when Wade died in an accident before his senior year, she would read the books for that year out loud to him at his grave. Heartbreaking.

My flight saga

Let's play a little game of good news/bad news, shall we?

My plane flight home last night was long and late, scheduled to land at 1:30 a.m. after a four hour layover in Las Vegas: bad news.

I got one of the first boarding positions for the flight on Southwest: good news.

I chose the very front aisle seat with all that leg room, a boon for the long flight: good news!

It was a completely full flight: bad news.

After everyone got on, I still had the middle seat next to me empty: good news!

Then a standby guy got on: bad news.

He was a huge guy who had been sitting by the bathroom at the gate and I had mistaken him for a homeless man: bad news.

My judginess: also bad news.

He wedged himself in the seat between another woman and me and spread out his feet at 10 and 2 o'clock, with an astonishingly bad smell emanating from him: bad news.

He evidently (according to my olfactory) wore some kind of diaper that was already soiled: oh so bad news.

I wanted to get over it and be gracious; he couldn't really help it at this point and I kept having "inasmuch as you do it to the least of these" thoughts: good news.

But I really had a tough time doing that, what with the squishedness and eye-stinging stinkiness: bad news. 

He fell asleep for much of the flight, ending any efforts he was making to stay contained: bad news.

Anyway, I found some helpful distractions along the way:

1. 

The Hour, a new series on BBC America that started this week. I downloaded it for the plane trip home and I'm hooked. It's centered around launching a news broadcast in the late 50s, with spy and conspiracy thriller elements thrown in there, too.  Plus, you can't go wrong with Ben Winshaw (Bright Star) and BBC/Masterpiece Theatre darling Romola Garai (Emma and others).   This clip is kind of weird but at least it gives you a taste:

2. Are you missing Downton Abbey? If so, Kate Morton's The House at Riverton is good for what ails you. A very Downton-esque family saga in early 19th century England and a fun read that I finished just before arriving at the blessed Manchester, NH, airport.

3. Burt's Bee's lip balm is so minty and delicious smelling.  I reapplied several times. Maybe dozens.

4. Peppermint gum. Yes, please.

5. Commiserating glances with my seatmate on the opposite side, by the window.  She got angry with the guy at the end of the flight, woke him up and said "I can't take it anymore! I can't breathe and you are too heavy leaning on me. Wake up and move!" He kind of nodded at her and dozed off again. So she did it two more times. 

6. Knowing I would have a story to tell.  

Oh, my, that was my worst flight experience ever, including the time when baby Lauren had some kind of reaction to dimetapp before a flight (bad mom move) and it wired her to 1000% capacity for the entire journey, kicking and laughing and whooping and bouncing across the country. Give me a squirmy baby anyday. At least I can change their diapers.

Oh, dear. To reiterate, my judginess and anemic compassion: bad news. 

Back in the pages

 

It's strange, a few months ago it was like I fell out of love with books. I've been a lifelong bookworm but I just couldn't garner the excitement about reading that I have for the past 9/10ths of my life. Book depression maybe? The 37-year-itch? Student overload? Adult onset ADD? Whatever the cause, it made the rest of my life seem a little blah, too. I'd pick up a book, flip a few pages, put it down. Repeat.  I think I get some kind of vitamins from reading so I've probably been suffering from mental scurvy without the nourishment from books and stories.

Well, I'm back! (<-- read with Jack Nicholson voice if you so desire).  I think it has a lot to do with the last few books I've read so I thought I'd pass them along. If they can bring me out of book gloom, maybe you'll like them, too.

. . .

I uploaded The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet to my kindle last summer but only made it a few pages in before turning to other, more beachy reads (hey, it was summer).  A week or two ago, I had nothing else to do (ha!) or read so I gave it another try. So my advice: give it a few chapters to draw you in.  While a pirate-like setting in a distant trading post in the late 18th century might not sound like your cup of tea, give it a chance.

In 1799, the Dutch East Indies Company is in Nagasaki Harbor, where Jacob de Zoet, a devout and principled clerk is trying to earn enough money to go home and marry his fiancee in Holland. As the years turn, he falls in love with a disfigured midwife and his principles are tested as he encounters devious and selfish men on both side of the cultural divide as well as challenges to his faith, principles and affections. My one complaint is that the ending part, the rest-of-his-life summary is too brief and felt tacked on.  

Mitchell is a fantasic storyteller. As one of the other reviewers noted, he won't baby you with constant action (and sometimes it's hard to keep track of all the characters, well-developed though they are) but his descriptions and characters and words dazzle.  I've started reading all of his others, hoping to maintain the book-thirst he gave me with this one. 

. . .

From my Good Reads review: Caleb's Crossing is a vivid historical novel based on Caleb Cheeshahteaumuck, a Wampanoag who was the first Native American to graduate from Harvard (1665), as told through the narrative of fictional character (and strong female voice) Bethia Mayfield. The two meet on Martha's Vineyard when they are both about 12; what follows as Bethia and then others educate Caleb is Brooks's lyrical story addressing faith, friendship, culture, love, education, and freedom. Lofty principles, yes, but approachable and real in the telling.

. . .

Honorable mentions: Lest you think I'm all high-minded in my reading, I also devoured Rob Lowe's autobiography Stories I Only Tell My Friends and really liked it. Not your typical celebrity bio, I found it a compelling and interesting read. (Guys, Rob Lowe can write!) But then again, I am a child of the 80s and fondly remember The Outsiders and St. Elmo's Fire and, later, loved The West Wing so I was interested in the inside stories. True to the title, it did feel like a good dose of all his best stories from over the years, complete with salty language now and then (profanity alert).

Also: In Every Last One, Anna Quindlen (whom I really love) creates a true-feeling, detailed picture of a modern day suburban family and then takes them through a harrowing, painful HUGE tragedy. This isn't going to be for everyone, but I admired Quindlen's deftness and insights. Also, in the author interview at the end, she talked about her favorite book lately, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, which made me pick it up and try again. So, thanks, Anna.

. . .

What makes a book a winner for you? Here are my criteria for a recommended, 4- or 5- star book: 

1) it makes me crave writing something

2) I would read it again. And, possibly, again and again and again.

3) I want to underline passages (and usually do)

4) it's difficult to put down

5) it transports me to the world of the story

6) it inspires me in some way

What about you? Any great reads lately?

. . .

Top image via Say Yes to Hoboken

For the booklovers on your list

A few things too good not to share...

Out of Print Clothing has produced some fabulous tshirts featuring their interpretations of classic book covers.  I gave Maddy the Pride and Prejudice one for her birthday and she loved it.  Wouldn't your bookgroup best friend or English major niece love one?

. . .

 

Check out this lovely wreath made from the pages of books! I just ordered one for our front room/library and I couldn't resist sharing it in case someone else loves it as much as I do. This one will probably stay up on our walls all year long.

 

. . .

Who wouldn't love receiving one of these gorgeous, cloth-bound Penguin classics with covers designed by Coralie Bickford-Smith? It might be just the thing for helping someone start a collection. Maybe one a year for ten years?

. . .

 

Or for the journal/book writer on your list, this set of three blank books provides an excellent canvas. This was under the tree for Maddy last year and she's had a lovely time filling each book with its own content, chapter style.

 

Speaking of books, look at this marvelous idea for a children's book advent calendar--you can use holiday books you already have, library books, whatever you'd like. What a charming idea!  I think even my teens and tweens would love to revisit one book from their childhood Christmases every night of December. 

 

image via Sarah Jane Studios

November comfort

Well, hello November. Around here half of the leaves are still hanging on bravely by their little stems but the temperatures have dropped and I feel compelled to have soup simmering. And a cozy book--a comfort read.

Like Gretchen Rubin, I find myself turning to comforting + familiar books when I feel a little stressed. Or, in this case, when the weather turns Novembery.  It's the literary equivalent of comfort food (which, incidentally, you may have noticed that I also turn to in cases of stress or November).

To Kill a Mockingbird, for instance. I just finished reading this out loud to the kids last week. My voice quivered as I read the Halloween eve passage: the ham costume and the suspense and the "hey, Boo" and the final words: 

"Atticus, he was real nice...."

His hands were under my chin, pulling up the cover, tucking it around me.

"Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them."

He turned out the light and went into Jem's room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning.

My voice quivered because I always get teary there. But also. It was one of those golden-tinged moments and I felt it as it happened: remember this. I am sitting here with my three children and sharing the string of words that Harper Lee threaded together. I am transferring something I love into their open hearts. Or something like that.

Other comfort reads for me: Anything by Rosamunde Pilcher: September, The Shell Seekers, Coming Home. They are long + lovely British family sagas. They make me want to have an Aga stove and a scrubbed pine table with lots of people around it. They are not intellectual or high brow and I love them. Right now I'm reading Coming Home. Again. Same thing with Maeve Binchy's Irish saga books. 

Speaking of November comfort, here are a few Novembery images that have warmed me up a bit, via my gather tumblr (which I use as a clipping file, basically):

What about you? What's giving you comfort this early November day?

p.s. I'm working on some technical glitches right now. If you're reading this, you probably came via some other route than basic-joy.com

Thank you so much for the several heads-up notices about the wonkiness. I'm keeping calm and carrying on, hoping to restore everything soon. xo

[edited to say: everything's fine now! Thanks for being patient!]