On the heels of my recent soapbox rant, I want to thank all of you who read and commented on my last post. I’m sure I’ve said this before, but although I am reluctant to engage in much political banter here (I am quite good at it in person), I think of gun control as a moral issue. It’s not politics; it’s just wrong to expose our children, families, neighbors and everyone else to this danger.
Following up
I should have offered some follow-up options and I failed to do so. Like me, you may live in a state or congressional district that does not support these efforts, but these organizations are working hard to make change. They deserve our support. You may want to consider offering even modest support to Everytown for Gun Safety, Moms Demand Action or The Giffords Law Center to Prevent Gun Violence .
Extravagant Welcomes
I recently joined a church I have been attending for several months. Along the way, one of the pastors had been assuring me that there was no pressure for me to join, but when I did she could promise an “extravagant welcome.” I joined recently with eight or so others and we were warmly, extravagantly, welcomed with hearty handshakes, words of welcome, and a reception (with cake!).
I love the term “extravagant welcome” which I interpret to mean sincere and heartfelt. It has nothing to do with money, and everything to do with a generous spirit. It should become a regular practice. Making people welcome goes beyond our home. As a newbie in my community, feeling welcome is something with which I am increasingly acquainted. We need to enthusiastically welcome the newcomer to our exercise class or book group, to our golf league or pickle ball team. Ask their name if you didn’t catch it (or worse, if it wasn’t offered), tell them you’re glad to see them, ask how they heard about this activity, etc. The day we moved into this house, our next door neighbors stopped by to say they were going to pick up sandwiches at Subway and what would we like? That was an extravagant welcome.
As I mulled over the importance of an extravagant welcome, I realized that it may be especially important after the isolation of the pandemic. A few weeks ago one of my book groups discussed Elizabeth Strout’s Lucy by the Sea. Strout has an engaging way of writing more than one book about a character. She has written about Lucy before and about Lucy’s former husband, William, who is also a main character in this book. Like many of us, Lucy initially views the pandemic as an inconvenience that she expects will last a few weeks or maybe a month. William is a scientist and understands from the beginning just how serious the threat is and how important it is to get Lucy and their adult daughters out of New York.
Our discussion bounced between our own experiences with the pandemic and how we viewed the book. Some readers felt the book was boring, but then others pointed out that the pandemic was boring and Strout really captured that in her writing. But the big take-away from the discussion was how fresh and even raw our feelings were about the pandemic. It’s still on many minds, it’s changed us in many ways, and the effects will linger.
And if we are all a little raw or bruised post pandemic, perhaps even coping with significant losses, extravagant welcomes are especially important right now.
I wrote this post after the March 27 shooting at a Nashville, Tennessee, school killed three adults and three children. It was an appalling, brutish act of evil. As are all of these incidents. Then I set the copy aside, concerned that it was perhaps too political for this podium where the subject matter is most often books, recipes and home decor.. Then a lone gunman carried a high-powered rifle — a war weapon — into a Monday morning staff meeting at a Louisville, Kentucky, bank. The carnage continues..
My kids used to catch the school bus at the corner, three doors away from our house. I often sat on the front step, coffee in hand, and watched them. It was a big group that boarded the bus there, twelve to fifteen kids from kindergarten thru fifth grade. Somewhere along the line the bus riders had devised a system of lining up backpacks in the order in which they arrived at the corner. (Do kids everywhere do this?) This is the order they lined up in to board the bus, but once their backpack was in place, they were free to kick soccer balls, twirl, dance, whatever their busy, wriggly bodies needed to do. I don’t know if my husband or my kids knew I did this, but it’s one of my sweeter memories of their grade school years.
This was in more innocent days, before individuals began bringing assault rifles to school.
Then came Columbine, Sandy Hook, Stoneman-Douglas, Uvalde and more. Last summer I wrote here about a senseless shooting at a July 4th parade in the Chicago suburbs:” A young gunman sat atop a downtown building and used a powerful weapon of war to shoot and kill at least six parade attendees and injure more than two dozen more.”
So we send thoughts and prayers to families who will never watch their children hop on the school bus, run in the playground, or kick a soccer ball again. And we send more thoughts and prayers to other families whose mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers will not be around the table at Sunday dinner again. What does this really do?
Not much. There have been more than 130 mass shootings this year in the United States. Guns are now the single greatest cause of death among children. I’m trying to understand the argument that guns are not the whole story, but we have to start somewhere, and we have to keep working at it.
Ours is a smart, resourceful, creative, well-educated society. How does this country separate our fundamental belief in a militia from this love affair with weapons of war? I’m not interested in anyone’s hunting rifles and I can even let the handguns go (a big step for me), but why on earth are military grade automatic weapons — developed as tools of war— legal?
Last month I read this powerful message from Nasthviille author and mom Mary Laura Philpott. I cannot stop thinking about her words: “It is time to ask everyone we know: Are you ready to support reasonable gun safety reform? And if not, what are you willing to sacrifice? Whose children? Name them.”
Think about that.
I’ll be stepping off my soapbox now. Thanks for stopping by.
You may remember this book stack. Yep, still working thru it. My personal reading life is often interrupted by what the book clubs are reading,
What do chicken stock, WWI spies and a place to hang your hat have in common? They’re all part of filling long winter days. But, hey, it’s officially spring on the calendar, so pour a cup of coffee or make a cup of tea and see what I’ve been up to lately.
Books to beat the cold
When we landed here in Ohio, I found two bookclubs! Rather than play favorites, I jumped into both. One is composed of residents in my over-55 community and the other is more well-established and draws its members from the senior community in New Albany. My husband thinks I may have bit off more than I can chew keeping up with two different book clubs, but both groups are reading such great material, it’s been worth the effort. And sometimes their interests collide:tast fall both clubs read Lessons in Chemistry, a bonus discussion for me.
Last week the New Albany group discussed The Lilac Girls. It’s been a book club favorite since its release a few years ago. I started it sometime back, then put it down. I’m so glad I had an incentive to get back to it. This is a powerful — sometimes gritty — true story of women spies in WWI. Sadly, it’s one of those chapters left out of most history books, but still so important to ur understanding of history. The books ahead are certainly promising: Lucy by the Sea by Elizabeth Strout in April and The Mosquito Bowl by Buzz Bissinger in May. My other book group will be discussing Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver at the end of the month. I read it and loved it, so I’m really looking forward to that too.
(If you’re new here or if you haven’t been a regular visitor, learn more about my recent reads here,here, and here.)
Making stock to fit the pot
Bonus points for the wonderful aroma of soup simmering on the stove.
If you have cooked any Ina Garten recipes, you know that if it calls for stock Ina always recommends homemade. Several years ago when I was trying to replicate a roasted squash soup, I decided to take Ina’s advice and make my own stock. It turns out that stock is pretty easy to make and really handy to have in the freezer. (By the way, I refer to it as stock because I use bones, but it may be just broth.)
I don’t have a huge stock pot; I use a multi-pot from Williams Sonoma and it holds eight quarts,. Frankly I’ve adapted the Barefoot Contessa recipe to fit my pot. I save and freeze the leftover bones or carcass from bone-in breasts or broasted chickens. (We eat a lot of chicken!) I just throw them into a plastic bag in the freezer until I’m ready to cook. To make the stock I start with the bones from the freezer, than add 3 or 4 carrots, halved with the ends trimmed, three or four stalks of celery trimmed the same way (the leafy heart of the celery is also a nice addition), then a parsnip with the ends trimmed like the carrots, a medium to large onion, unpeeled and halved, a head of unpeeled garlic cut crosswise, several sprigs each of fresh parsley, dill and thyme, and about a tablespoon of whole pepper corns and another tablespoon of kosher salt. (I try not to overdo the salt & pepper, since the broth will get seasoned again when it’s used in a recipe).
Here are the silicone soup cubes. Each piece holds four separate cups, for a total go two quarts. I also had two full quarts that I froze from this batch. I like the cubes so much I think I may buy more.
And that’s it, that’s what fits in my pot. If I don’t have enough bones I will add some uncooked chicken thighs, but then I discard the meat with the bones, because to me it’s really overcooked. Finally I add 4 to 6 quarts of water, really what my pot can hold, and bring it all to a boil before reducing it to simmer for a few hours. Wen it’s done, I take the pot off the heat and use tongs to transfer the solids to a colander set in a large bowl to drain. With the solids out of the way, I use a fine sieve to strain the broth into freezer containers.
This is so easy. It takes me about 10 minutes to assemble and after two hours of simmering another 20 minutes to strain and package for freezing. I feel totally virtuous when I have all this broth tucked away in the freezer. My daughter-in-law capitalized on that when she bought me these silicone “soup cubes.” Each cube holds a cup of stock, perfect for portioning smaller amounts for recipes. I freeze the stock in the silicone cubes, then pop the frozen stock cubes into a plastic bag to keep in the freezer.
Look what’s new at the Reset
This space works hard and looks really good.
One of my new neighbors asked one day if I was about “done ” here at the Reset. After all, we hung pictures, even painted a wall and installed all that trim. She doesn’t know me at all yet or she would know I never stop tweaking.
And, okay, it would be fine to stop there, but we haven’t. In fact, we recently finished two additional projects that we both thought added a lot to the house. First, this mudroom space inside the garage door was begging for some storage for hats and scarves, a place to put packages, and so much more. Plus, it’s open to the entry and the library. It needed a “look” instead of looking like an afterthought.
The solution: My husband added headboard against the wall and built a fairly simple bench and we love the result! This “built-in” was a builder option that was not added to our spec house. I know I could have ordered a piece of furniture to do the same thing, but this was pretty straightforward, and I’m sure it was much less expensive for the same look.
A custom closet has long been on my wish list (I think this is true for a lot of us), so when I realized we had received a substantial discount from The Container Store as part of a welcome packet from the builder, lights started going off in my head. Our master closet is pretty generous, but the interior was just a single shelf and clothes rod — a total of 19 feet — running around the closet perimeter. As my daughter said, “a lot of wasted space.”
Tada! One end of the closet.
So, we measured the space and talked to the closet designers at The Container Store, and in fact went back and forth with them a few times tweaking the plan. They were terrific.. We eventually landed on a really workable design, but then kind of sat on the plan. We were caught up in other, more pressing projects, and, frankly, even with the coupon it was still pricey. Then came an even better sale. So, yes, we did it, installing it ourselves. Here’s a quick look at how that turned out. We love it! Our clothes are neatly stored, the floor is clear (my goal!) and we have storage space to to spare! I’ll share more details on this in a later post too, since we learned a few important points in doing this.
Thanks for reading to the end of this meandering post. Waiting for spring to finally arrive is always a challenge for me. I’m always pushing the calendar. How about you? I’d love to hear how you are waiting on spring.
Thank you so much for stopping by. See you again soon!
Setting up the library was one of our first projects. Our two favorite chars are to the left of the shelves and we sit here daily it seems.
A year ago at this time my husband and I were running in circles, selling one house and packing up to move to another. (You may remember those posts here,here and here.) We’re proper Ohioans now with the drivers licenses to prove it. We’re tweaked and finessed a builder’s spec house into something much more our own. But moving is a mental exercise as well as a physical one.
The Mental Reset is my term for the very personal process of wrapping my head around our move from the Chicago suburbs to Columbus, Ohio. I said in a holiday letter to friends and family, we were pushed by the pandemic, pulled by grandsons who were going to quickly outgrow us, and rattling around in a house that no longer fit quite right. Honestly, although we miss having our daughter nearby and seeing other friends, we have not looked back. But there are times I wonder just how we got here.
It’s not about the house you raised a family in; we’ve been empty nesters a loooong time. And it’s not about the neighborhood. We were on our fifth family next door and the fourth one across the street. It wasn’t as transient as it sounds, but people move on. It’s a fact of life.
For a lifelong Chicago girl, even the best move is a challenge.
When you relocate during your family-raising/career years, social connections are simpler. You meet people at work, at the playground, at your children’s school. Not all of them become good friends, but some do and one person leads to another leads to another. It’s different as a retiree. You have to be a bit more aggressive in reaching out to make those connections yourself. And each time you do, it’s kind of like stepping out on a new stage.
Walk up to the door, take a deep breath, smile, and step forward.
I have already shared that although we were not looking for a 55+ community, that is in fact where we landed. Frankly that has proven to be a lucky turn in our journey. This is a new community, so we are all looking to make friends; at least half of us have moved to the area to be closer to the grandchildren. We’re all learning our way around in so many ways, and there is camaraderie in that. (There’s almost no one just sitting on their front porch unless, of course, they’re recovering from a pickle ball injury.)
However, I’m not necessarily inclined to limit my social circle to the neighbors, lovely as they are, or to my son and his family, as nice as it is to be closer. So, there is church, friends I’ve made in an exercise class, and another book group. I count myself fortunate to have all these options. And I’m sure there will be others. But behind each one there was a moment to walk up to the door, take a deep breath, smile, and step forward. Sometimes — but not always — you have a partner with you; sometimes you are on your own. And sometimes you think maybe it would just be easier to stay home and read a book.
I have been thinking about this a lot lately, and it’s a common topic with some of the other newbies in the neighborhood. We all depend a lot on Google to get us where we’re going, but it’s not foolproof. If you turn left instead of right, your Google guide will eventually redirect you, but if you have no idea where you are, it’s tough figuring out which way is east.
I have new respect for friends who have already done this. Have you and what’s your secret? I’d love to hear about it.
Sometimes you just run into a motherlode of good books, and that’s exactly what I hit upon in the last month our so. There’s real variety in these selections, from memoir to mystery and some quintessential fiction, as well as thoughtful themes on friendship and politics. Although I continue to highly recommend Louise Penny’s Six Pines mystery series, I’ve also included Janet Ivanovich’s latest Stephanie Plum (as well as this whole series), which is much lighter and pure fun, perfect for a gray, winter day.
Memoir or biography: Two compelling reads
History, biography, politics and Paris. Jacqueline in Paris by Ann Mah has it all and, yet, I was a little hesitant to read this Book of the Month selection. Would it be too much People Magazine and not enough biography? Using substantial research on post-war Europe and the ever-present threat of the communist party in 1948 in a city still trying to regain its footing after the German occupation as a backdrop, Mah vividly imagines Jacqueline Lee Bouvier’s junior year in the city of light. Although not totally factual — Ms Kennedy’s papers are not available — it’s easy to imagine her being schooled in French art and antiques by a countess who was part of the resistance, attending class at the Sorbonne with a variety of politically active fellow students, and socializing with an equally diverse group of American expats. It’s as interesting for the political and historical setting Mah creates as it is for the role of the future First Lady. Or maybe the former First Lady is the perfect vehicle to deliver this surprising post-war picture of Paris. I’ll let you decide
Dinners with Ruth: A Memoir on the Power of Friendships by Nina Totenberg is the next title for my neighborhood book club. Although we are not meeting until late January, I jumped in and read it in December and have been recommending it ever since. As the New York Times review points out, four years before Totenberg began a prize-winning career at NPR and almost twenty years before Ruth Bader Ginsburg was appointed to the Supreme Court, Totenberg called Ginsberg after reading the latter’s brief in an important Civil Rights case. Their friendship was well established before their careers “took off.” Totenberg recounts not only some of the highs and lows of their professional journeys, but also their personal relationship as well as those of others around them, and how they mentored and encouraged each other along the way. If you like history or memoir, admire Totenberg and/or Ginsburg, or are a reader who appreciates their career climbs, you will love this book.
A good family saga
French Braid by Anne Tyler is the latest novel from an author that never lets her fans down. Tyler’s work always seems a little light to me, at least until you get 50 pages in and realize that while she is telling an entertaining story about everyday people leading everyday lives, she is also revealing an important truth about life and love and family. I’ve been reading her books for more than a decade. They never fail to make me chuckle out loud, tear up, and continue reading long after I should have turned out the light. French Braid starts in the present, then gently falls back a few generations to tell the story of the Garrett family (always from Baltimore) and how their polite but persistent lack of communication shaped their lives and loves.
Case closed: Two mystery winners
I am a devoted fan of two mystery series, one just for fun, Janet Ivanovich’s Stephanie Plum series, and the more cerebral Three Pines series by Louise Penny featuring the professional and personal lives of Chief Inspector Armand Ganache. I knew both series we releasing new books this fall and, as soon as I heard that these latest titles were available on Kindle, I shamelessly dowloaded them and dug in. (I consider this one of the hazards of owning an e-reader. Books on demand. Who knew?)
Louise Penny’s latest Armand Ganache mystery, A World of Curiosities, was available as I was finishing Dinners with Ruth and wondering what I could read next that would be half as enjoyable. (Do you do that? Worry about what you can read next that will be as good as what you are reading right now?) The book opens with the discovery of a secret room in one of the buildings in Three Pines. While Ganache and his fellow townspeople are trying to decipher the significance of the room, the Chief Inspector flashes back to his initial meeting with brash young Beauvoir and the beginning of their professional (and later personal) relationship. As always Penny deftly handles the lapses in time and diverse characters without ever losing her reader or the master plot. As with all of the Three Pines books, A World of Curiosities is a keeper.
Stephanie Plum saves the day yet again in Going Rogue. This series is my guilty pleasure, sure to perk me up when I need it and make me laugh out loud.( I think I have already shared with you that I re-read several of her titles when I readly needed to escape the pandemic.) Going Rogue brings the entire Plum cast together, including Lula, the spandex-wearing former ‘ho; Grandma Mazur, who never misses a viewing at the local funeral home and always carries her gun; and Morelli and Ranger, the two men in Plum’s life who could not be more different. This time around Stephanie’s boss Vincent (Vinnie) Plum plays a larger role as he and Stephanie search for office manager Connie Rosolli who has been kidnapped by one of Vinnie’s bail bonds clients. Like most books in a series, Plum’s mysteries are formulaic. But fun. And we can all use that, especially in the depths of January.
What’s on your bookshelf or e-reader? Please share in the comments. Thank you so much for stopping by. I hope we meet here again soon.
I think of Christmas as part magic and part mayhem, some fun and some frenzy, a bit sentimental and a bit sassy. I have a jumble of thoughts on this holiday season, so I’m just throwing them out there for you — like spaghetti on a wall. It’s entirely possible this sounds like the ying and yang of your holiday too.
First, those pesky holiday cards
I’m not very good at looking back and summing up a year, which probably explains my love/hate relationship with Christmas letters. (Do you really want to know how many species your bird-watching friends have identified in the last year or the win/loss record of your cousin’s pickle ball team? If so, perhaps I should share the complete inventory of our 187 moving boxes, Okay — this is the sassy/snarky part of my holiday vibe.) Of course I want to know my friends and family are well, happy and enjoying life. I love knowing what they’ve been doing and it’s wonderful to learn that they’ve acquired new passions, But sometimes there’s just too much information!
On the other hand, I am disappointed to open a card from someone I only hear from at this time of year and there is no message. It can be as simple as “I’m retired and playing tennis again. The kids are good — how are yours?” It’s one of those niceties that we often skip in the holiday rush, but what’s the point if you’re just signing “Marge & Bill” once a year and then moving on? The same goes for the generic family newsletter. In my mind, holiday newsletter etiquette requires at least one handwritten sentence on the bottom. “We missed you at the class reunions” or “Looking forward to seeing you on the beach this summer” go a long way.
Obviously, I’ve puzzled over this card business a lot.
Everyone’s talking about the weather…
But nobody did anything about it.
Mother Nature threw some serious curve balls at all of us this season. I hope you weathered the storms well. On December 23rd, instead of lords leaping or maids milking, the holiday storm that was wreaking havoc across the country dropped a few inches of snow on Columbus, complicated by blizzard-force winds and temperatures well below zero. As former Chicagoans, we were tempted to shrug it off, but snow removal was a bit problematic in our 55-plus community. Most of us moved here looking forward to having snow shoveled (and grass mowed). Except it turns out the company that does this closed for Christmas. Really! There was also a glitch in the contract (isn’t there always a glitch in the contract?)
I foolishly made a comment about this on our local FaceBook page – which may or may not have included the word “preposterous” — and was quickly chastised for discussing an inappropriate topic. (As my neighbor observed, only rainbows and butterflies on FB.) We’ll be talking about the snowstorm for years to come, but definitely not on FB.
How was my holiday? I’m so glad you asked.
For the first time in a handful of years, we had all of our family plus a few special guests around the Christmas table. (Actually, it took two tables to seat us, but that made it more fun.) If you have had big holidays and small holidays, at your house or elsewhere, you know what I mean. They’re all happy, but it is especially nice to have everyone in one place. To have the boys improvise a curling game in the hall, to read off the corny jokes from the Christmas crackers and to retell the same holiday stories. I understand now why my grandmother continued to host holidays into her eighties and why there was always room for one more cousin or neighbor at her table on any occasion.
Christmas is the season we share ourselves. Steve and I hosted that holiday party for decades until Covid cut us off so we could share the holiday with friends and neighbors. It’s why we joined neighbors here to host a holiday party for our whole community. It’s why all of us eagerly reach out to donate toys and food.
I love the week after Christmas
When I was a child the week after Christmas was reserved for visits with the friends and more distant family we did not see on the day. When I was older, it was also time for shopping the Christmas sales and spending some Christmas cash. Now I think of it as quiet time, reading a new book, enjoying the tree, maybe cooking something new or going out for a special lunch. For me it’s a long, deep, cleansing breath after the holiday.
And now I need to think about how I’m going to squeeze all the Christmas decor back into its bins. It’s always a mystery to me.
I have been on a really good reading run lately, These titles aren’t new releases and have little relationship to each other. They do, however, reflect various times in history. With the exception of Strapless which I read for one of my book groups, I picked them up because they looked good or came highly recommended. Although it’s great fun to read the new release everyone is talking about, I sometimes worry that focusing my reading there eliminates way too many good books. I’m trying to mix it up.
The Golden Hours by Beatriz Williams is one title (and not a new one) in her long series of historical fiction, a genre I really enjoy. This book alternates between the early days of WWII, in the Bahamas, when the Duke and Duchess of Windsor were in residence (and they play a significant role in the WWII story) and twenty years before during WWI. Lots of romance and intrigue and — thanks to the Windsors — a fair amount of glam.
The Paris Library (and who even knew there was one) by Janet Skeslien Charles is another novel that moves between two distinct time periods — the Nazi occupation of Paris in WWII and a small Montana town in the early 1980’s. I found the Parisian story fascinating when it focused on the various subscribers to the library and how the staff and subscribers survived during the occupation, although I found the young heroine in Paris was maybe too naive. However, the intergenerational friendship between Lily and Odile in Montana was inspiring.
If you enjoyed watching The Empress on Netflix, you may really like reading more about Sisi.
After watching The Empress on Netflix, the story of Elisabeth “Sissi” von Wittelsbach, Princess of Bavaria who became Empress of Austria upon her marriage to Emperor Franz Joseph, I picked up a copy ofSiri: Empress on Her Own by Alison Pataki. A friend recommended it a few years ago and I just didn’t get around to it until now, but it picks up where The Empress left off. Despite its fairytale beginning, Sisi and the emperor did not enjoy a happy marriage, but she was beloved by her Austrian and Hungarian subjects and played an often pivotal role in the politics of the day.
I’m sure I shared with you earlier that my book group was reading Strapless by Debra Davis, about Virginie Gautreau, the subject of John Singer Sargent’s controversial painting, unveiled at the 1884 Paris Salon. Both were relatively unheard of at the time, and hopeful that the painting would change that. Unfortunately Gautreau’s reputation did not assume the stardom of Sargent’s. In fact she was shunned socially, though Sargent, of course, eventually assumed a stellar reputation.
The story behind the story
At the beginning or end of a book do you read the writer’s notes on how they got the idea for the book, did the research, and/or perhaps struggled to get this particular story all on paper? Often these comments are thrown in with long lists of thank-you’s to publishers, editors, assistants, researchers, family and friends. In some respects that makes them somewhat forgettable to the average reader. We just want to dig into the story itself. But then there are the times they reveal so much. I don’t know how or when i started reading these notes, but this book had such interesting roots, I think they are worth sharing.
Davis happened onto the story when a friend compared a dress Davis wore to that of Madame X, AKA Gautreau.. Curious, Davis researched and discovered the woman, the painter and the painting. And then, of course, the story and the mounting research carried her along. This is more history than novel and unlike historical fiction there is almost no dialogue. In fact another member of the book club and I both wondered when the Preface would end and the story begin, until we realized it wasn’t the preface we were reading, but the book!
So much of this is so interesting to me: the way Davis discovered the story, the amount of research she did on both of the main characters as well as other, more minor characters, to flesh out Sergant’s artistic background and the world of artists and patrons in which he moved. The same is true of Madame Gautreau who was initially something of a sensation in Parisian society and then, after the painting, led an increasingly circumscribed life.
The most appealing bookstore
And while we’re talking about books, if you have not yet seen these pictures and many more of Beacon Hill Books and Cafe, You need to up your Instagram game. Recently opened on Boston ‘s Charles Street, photos of the charming, uber-stylish interior (which is apparently also available for private parties) are popping up everywhere. Or just visit the website for a closer look.
You could settle in here to read…
Or you could host a private event.
Looking ahead, one of my book groups has chosen Dinners with Ruth by Nina Totenberg as our next read. Totenberg is the legendary NPR correspondent and Ruth refers to her friend, Ruth Bader Ginsburg. I just downloaded this to my Kindle and I can’t wait to read it! These two remarkable women were friends for nearly 50 years. I’ll also be catching up the the Book of the Month Club recommendations of my daughter and daughter-in-law.
What about you? Read any good books lately?
Thanks for taking the time to stop by. I’ll be back again soon!
For years now, my husband, daughter, son, and daughter-in-law have all rolled their eyes at my insistence at holding on to certain pieces of furniture or books or crockery or miscellaneous memorabilia that I have refused too part with.
In general none of these things are heirloom quality, and if my daughter or son asks for something I’m not using, I’m happy to pass along said table, chair or whatever. However, sometimes I do so with the caveat that they may not get rid of it without asking me first if I wouldlike it back.
This starts with a magazine
If you follow me on Instagram, or follow the fringes of the design world anywhere on IG or in blog-land, you may recall the collective swoon over Milieu magazine’s fall issue featuring a handful of homes belonging to interior design movers and shakers including Carole Glasser and Jackye Lanham. It was a collection of beautifully thought-out but livable, approachable rooms. Places you could imagine sitting in with a book and/or a cup of coffee. Not surprisingly, the images continue to pop up up on IG and the web. This one, in particular, rang a little bell in my brain:
The cross buck coffee table and the white sofas in Jackie Lanham’s Kiawah Island living room looked more than a little familiar, probably because I have a very similar crossbuck table (in front of a white Ikea sofa and already “staged” with a plant and some books!) in our loft. Take a look:
My dad made this table 60-odd years ago to hold our black and white TV. I’m sure it’s from a pattern he cut from a woodworking magazine or maybe the Sunday paper. And I’m also certain its construction pre-dated any power tools. (The TV on it was in a wood cabinet, which he sanded down and painted green. And you wonder where I got my decorating chops?)
It eventually morphed into a coffee table at my house. We put our feet on it, ate pizzas at it, played games around it, and still it soldiered on. It has been at my son’s house for several years, most recently in a corner of the basement. I confiscated it when we moved here and gave it new life in our loft. The table is still rock solid and the finish is original, a little dinged up, but after all this time I just can’t bring myself to do anything to it.
I suppose it helps to have dressers and ladies-in-waiting, but she looks so pretty and perky here.
Have you been watching the reports from Scotland & London on the farewells to the Queen? I can’t tear myself away. I know it sounds a bit silly, but it’s such a slice of history. (And I am an avowed history nerd.) On one hand, so much pomp and circumstance, on the other tradition. And monarchs in the United Kingdom are one of the oldest of traditions.
I haven’t always been a huge fan of Queen Elizabeth. She often sounds very stiff and formal, and for years she toed the most conservative line about marriage and divorce, well after society had clearly moved on. But, we soften with age. The Queen sure did, and I guess I have too.
Queen Elizabeth’s life was pretty much unlike any other and probably not what she would have chosen, but there she was, at the center of history. Can you imagine a weekly meeting with Winston Churchill when you’ve just assumed a new job? Trying to sum up the Queen’s ninety-six years in just a few words, even a few paragraphs, is impossible. And all kinds of really smart people have been doing it beautifully for the last several days. Look them up.
So, yes, when I grow up and grow old — like into my nineties — I’d like to be like the Queen. I’d like to be stylish and wear pretty colors and matching hats. I’d like to still be wearing lipstick to highlight an impish smile. I’d like to be current with what’s happening in the world. I’d like to have a cheeky sense of humor a la James Bond and Paddington Bear. I’d like to savor the antics of my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. And I’d like to still have my prince at my side to share it all.
It’s not about the crown or the jewels, the power or the palaces (although given the choice I would likely choose palaces over all of the above). I would just love to be the ninety-six-year old matriarch sharp enough to be current with what’s happening in the world and wise enough to view it from an historic perspective. I would like to be gracious enough to privately manage familial trials, failing health, and whatever other ill winds blow. In essence, that’s keeping the proverbial stiff upper lip.
So now that I’ve written this all down in black and white, so to speak, I have to wonder: Am I asking too much? I hope not. I’m sure going to try.
Thank you so much for stopping by. I hope I see you again here soon,.
Did you give summera proper send-off last weekend? We did with a football theme, (see below). My miscellaneous file also includes a report of my summer without a garden as well as what I have been and will be reading. I hope you enjoy the this-and-that-ness of this post as I sink my teeth into September, one of my favorite months! (It’s those bluer than blue September skies that get me every year.)
Of books, book clubs, & good reads
After decades of participation in my Wheaton book club, I cannot tell you how many people have asked if I have found a new one. The short answer is yes. In fact, I found two. First, I joined one in our neighborhood. It limits participation to less than 10 people, a far cry from the twenty members, give-or-take another ten that I am used to. And while I am uncomfortable with the size limitation (who wants to tell someone they can’t come to the discussion?), I understand the reasoning. We met recently to discuss Richard Russo’s Empire Falls, had a great discussion, and the small group allows everyone to participate fully.
Our next read is Strapless by Debra Davis, about Virginie Gautreau, the subject of John Singer Sargent’s most famous painting, unveiled at the 1884 Paris Salon. Both were relatively unheard of at the time, but of course that quickly changed. Unfortunately Gautreau’s reputation did not assume the stardom of Sargent’s. It’s one of those books that has a bit of a buzz, and the story along with the 19th century art world setting should be interesting.
I’ve also discovered a very informal book group in the New Albany community. They will meet in October to discuss Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus which I just read and loved. It’s a book that begs for a conversation so I’m looking forward to that.
I’ve decided the trick to finding a good book club is identifying one that likes to read the same material that you do, and maybe — hopefully — pushes you to read a bit beyond your comfort zone. It’s great if the books aren’t always current best sellers. Empire Falls was published in 2001, but there is so much depth and layering to the characters that the conversation just kept rolling. Not every book or author lends itself to that kind of examination. Some of my fellow readers in my last book group got me started on Louise Penny, and I devoured her mystery series. But I don’t think we would ever choose one for a book discussion. And I think the same is true of a lot of writers and not only of mysteries. What about you?
My summer without a garden
I’ve missed being able to go outside and cut some flowers for the table.
If you have followed my blog for long, you know I wrote often about my garden (for example here) and about cooking from the garden (as I did here and here), but at the Reset we are still waiting for irrigation, final grading and sod before we can plant much of anything. The front has been landscaped with boxwood, day lilies and a nice bed of mulch. I’m sure we’ll add to this scheme, but not until the builder finishes his work on the lot.
In the meantime I have a few mis-matched planters of annuals on the front porch. There is no rhyme or reason to them: one over-sized pink geranium, because it was in full bloom back in May (and has continued to be so most of the summer), a pot of assorted coleus that I have cut back several times and yet it is taking over its spot along with a Boston fern from my grandson’s school flower sale. It’s also out of control. However, they don’t all really work together and so I need a better plan for next year. Any ideas?
And what about the missing vegetable garden? I honestly haven’t missed canning tomatoes (though I will probably miss cooking with them this fall). I bought some beautiful basil at the farmers market to make pesto. I do have pots with rosemary, thyme and parsley on the patio. so I can still duck out and snip what I need for a recipe.
This is Big Ten football country
Meet Brutus, part OSU mascot, part OSU ambassador.
Columbus is the home of Ohio State University (my husband’s alma mater, but that’s another story) and you only have to be here once, on a fall Saturday, to grasp the football fever that grips Columbus. So, it should not have been a surprise to me — but it was — that when I attended a community event on September 1st — two days before kickoff against Notre Dame — the event had a bit of an OSU pep rally feel to it. EVERYONE — and I do mean EVERYONE — was dressed in some variation of an OSU shirt/hat/socks/shorts, etc. And in fact Brutus, pictured here, joined us for coffee. And that was just the beginning of kick-off weekend. We dropped by a community watch party in a park on Saturday night. It was fun – a huge screen streaming the game, food trucks, and more. Frankly, I am entertained by the fans as much as the game.
Thank you, as always, for stopping by to spend a little time with me. I hope you’re having a great week. And if you’re one of the millions experiencing our extreme weather, I hope the worst is behind you.
Ivy & Ironstone 