the beauty of an ordinary life
First and foremost: It is still October 2 where I am, even though it is now October 3 in the place where I wrote the first 53 posts in this series. So, I have not missed a day. I just managed to get a 26 hour day in which to post this entry, because… I … Continue reading Something about traveling and reading and not writing.
Last we were together (three weeks ago? four?), we were talking about seeing and being seen. You are thinking, perhaps, that my memory is dodgy, that I've forgotten about the Frye boot story in between. What you don't know is that I wrote the letter to The Frye Company at the end of February, weeks … Continue reading I know a mama.
I met Martha Stewart there, though not in person of course. Her rosy cheeks shone at me from the display table by the east-facing door. I don't remember what year it was, only that it was the season between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and that I was with my mother, and that I was in my … Continue reading Goodnight, bookstore.
I was going to write my annual post with book recommendations. But then, unexpectedly, I found where Nancy Pearl has been hiding. To be more accurate, and probably fairer, I accidentally stumbled upon Nancy Pearl's Twitter feed during one of my Twitter drive-bys (my relationship with Twitter is complicated). Re-finding Nancy Pearl was like seeing … Continue reading Under the Boolean radar.
So, it's been fun sharing book recommendations from my recent post about books. It's been so fun, in fact, that I decided to create a page dedicated just to books - what I'm currently reading, recent titles I've enjoyed, books I've read with my kids, and, of course, my all-time favorites. It's possible that I'll … Continue reading P.S. – Notes about Books
For me, each year is divided into two parts: summer and not-summer. Summer, to me, is the stretch of sunny days between Memorial Day and Labor Day; not-summer is the remainder. Summer is Wiccan, loose and roaming. Not-summer is Presbyterian, the time to hunker down and be serious. Even during the years between my own … Continue reading Summer ’15: the book report
The first Christmas we were together in Memphis, before we were married, before we had children, Bernard gave my mother a puppet named Book Worm that he purchased from a local bookstore. Book Worm was a green velvet - well, book, with a place to put your finger in the underside so when you opened … Continue reading The book tree.
Ah, summer reading, the special torture devised by teachers to deprive children of a carefree break from school. I hated summer reading. I'm a slow reader, for one thing, and, for another thing, I have always had a penchant for reading junk fiction. My teachers didn't care. They never, not once, assigned a Ken Follet … Continue reading Summer: the book report.
jenny's lark 