The Danger Zone

May 17, 2018May 17, 201812 Comments

May really is the merriest month, and if you are a gardener, no matter what zone you live in, it can also be the most dangerous time of year. The garden centers are starting to bring in their flats of summer annuals and hanging baskets.

Visit any nursery anywhere and everything is a riot of color. The petunias are looking all perky and pretty in their spring finery,

: Pink petunias

their vivid colors saying buy me, buy me….but beware! They require commitment….lots of commitment. This year I intend to save myself a summer of watering and weeding and fertilizing and deadheading and just say no. I will not succumb, I will be strong.

I am at the point in my gardening life where taking care of plants has become burdensome. I enjoyed it when I was working, although I did not always have the time and my flowers suffered for it. It was a respite to dig in dirt on my days off, a mindless occupation which did not require too much thought. One year I had eleven hanging baskets, (what was I thinking), and twenty rose and hydrangea bushes I was trying to get started, but it was too hot to water at ten in the morning when I got up, and it was dark when I returned home from work. But that was also the year my plants looked their best, because I gave up and hired someone in the neighborhood to water them.

: Pink Geraniums in September

It finally got too expensive, (it was a drought year), but I must admit it was a joy to have hanging baskets still vibrant in late September, instead of raggedy, dried out and dead by the end of July.

Paradoxically, now that I am retired and have more time, I am starting to consider gardening a chore and I don’t think I am alone in this. A few years ago I found an abandoned garden cart at the side of the road, (which I brought home and spray painted lime green to hide the sunflower yellow).

: Rescued lime green wrought iron cart

My idea was to get some of the pots up off the ground and out of reach of the bunnies which had multiplied like crazy that year. The homeowner told me to take it, it was free. She even delivered it so desperate was she to get it out of her sight. Having to water all those pots was just too much trouble when they were busy travelling all summer. I didn’t understand at the time, (a few pots?) but now I do.

At this stage in my gardening life I’d much rather read about gardening than do it. I’m ready to leave the pretty plants to someone else, not to mention the sweat and hard work, and live vicariously through someone else’s planting adventures. This gardening book Elizabeth and her German Garden, was first published in 1898 but is still timeless today. (see Enchanted April blog for more about the author).
Elizabeth and Her German Garden by Elizabeth von Arnim

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A bestseller when it was first released in 1898, this book remains a gardening classic. Of course back then there were the necessary servants and gardeners to do all the hard work, still it remains an entertaining read, and proof that the love of gardening never changes.

Luckily, most of the things in my yard, are easy care – roses and hydrangeas and peonies and lilacs. I like all the old-fashioned flowers our grandmothers had. I have mostly pinks, (double pink Knock-Out roses around both front and back decks), some lavenders (French and English and Rose of Sharon) and a few blues (hydrangeas if the soil cooperates and some struggling delphiniums). I like the look of an English garden with tall waving blooms, (so Downton Abbeyish), but have not had much success with this scheme. Phlox, not good, lupines, disappeared, foxglove awaiting judgement. This year I intend to buy flower seedlings at the farmer’s market as I realized last year they had a better selection and were much cheaper than the nurseries.

Plants can be divided into high maintenance (those that whine please deadhead me, fertilize me, give me a drink), and low maintenance, (those that can take care of themselves). Lavender is as low maintenance as it gets, (it loves drought), plus it’s cheap and smells wonderful.

: Lavender in a blue pot

Heather is also supposed to be a hardy plant, so after spying some flowering on a neighbors lawn while out for an early spring walk, I purchased a ten dollar pot and plopped it in the ground. Odds are it will end up neglected but I’m having visions of Heathcliff and the moors next spring…..

The other reason for not buying as much this year is the price – it just gets too expensive, so I will be haunting the plant sales. When the horticultural society holds its annual plant sale for two dollars, I’ll be there. I’ll even get out of bed early before the best ones are gone. (Well I was there by noon and got six pots of purple and yellow iris, a few bluebells and a twig they said was a Rose of Sharon which I suspect might already be dead, but all for a grand total of six dollars, everything is half price after noon, another reason not to get out of bed).

Impatiens have fallen out of favor here due to a widespread blight, but they have now come out with a hardier strain, so last year I did my own hanging baskets with a flat from a popup nursery and the end result was cheap and cheerful.

The only seeds I usually plant are blue morning glories along the back fence, which almost always put on a glorious show, although they can be very late in the year, (see A Glorious September Morning blog), and this year I’m going to try wildflowers again.

Although I don’t expect it will look like the meadow on the front of the seed packet, I did have some luck one year and it was an inexpensive solution for a poorly drained back corner. Last year I put in glads for the first time, and dug up the bulbs in the fall, but they were pulpy looking when I took them out of storage, so they will need to be replaced.

: Gladioli and Impatiens

But I plan on limiting myself to four baskets of geraniums from the garden centers, two for the front urns, and two for the back deck, no more…..fingers crossed.

: Pink geraniums

My only splurge will be a yellow with pink centre hibiscus bush, because it looks so exotic like the tropics, and my neighbor got one last year but I always seem to be behind on the garden trends.

One year I bought a bougainvillea plant,

: Bougainvillea on it’s best behavior

lured by it’s vivid pinkness, but I do not live in the right zone for tropical plants. It overwintered indoors fine the first year, and even bloomed in February but then it got all spindly and shed until it was moved south to the garbage bin.

So goodbye, farewell, annuals at the garden centre.

I hope you find a good home somewhere else….stay strong!

Progress report to date: 8 hollyhocks at farmers market $3 total, horticultural society plant sale iris & twig $6, one pot of campanula because it looked so purple but when I went to plant it the entire head of flowers fell off ($5 wasted),

six pots of lavender ($3.50 each to replace the ones which didn’t survive our harsh winter),

and my regular bright pink geraniums ($14) which came in a pink pot this year. Why didn’t someone think of matching colored pots sooner instead of those boring taupe things?

The Resistance: a Pink Knock-Out Rose Tree which at $99 is difficult to justify as I already have lots of $20 rose bushes, but there is a bare spot in one corner…..

The Debate: this years hibiscus flavor – Fiesta? Maybe if it goes on sale….

Postscript: The best gardener of all, and the cheapest, is good old Mother Nature!

Enchanted April

April 24, 2018April 24, 201922 Comments

“To those who appreciate wisteria and sunshine. Small medieval Italian castle on the shores of the Mediterranean to be let furnished for the month of April. Necessary servants remain. Z, Box 1000, The Times.”

Despite being written almost a hundred years ago the book, The Enchanted April, is just as enchanting today. Four very different women, all unknown to each other in dreary post WW1 Britain, answer an ad for an Italian villa. Two are married but taken for granted by their husbands, one is single and beautiful but tired of grabby men, and one is a widow facing a sad lonely old age. They have nothing in common other than they are starved for beauty and love, and for the fresh air and sunshine of the Italian coast.

Italian Villa – 2015

I watched the movie first, before I read the book, which is what I would recommend. The movie is from 1992 and while film quality has improved tremendously since then, it is still a lovely period drama, (and if I’m ever reincarnated I want to come back with straight black bobbed hair).

My Good-reads review:

The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I absolutely loved this book, but I had watched the movie first. A timeless tale with a lovely story line and such vivid descriptions of flowers, gardens and beautiful countryside that you almost felt like you were there.
I ordered the book because it is one of those timeless classics you simply have to own. It was a bestseller in it’s day, 1923, and was based on a month long trip the author, Elizabeth von Arnim, made with her husband to the village of Portofino, Italy, which soon became a famous tourist destination because of the success of the book. They stayed at the Castello Brown, (now a museum), which is where the movie was filmed seventy years later.

It’s such a charming story, that it might inspire you to grab three of your girlfriends and go off on your own Italian adventure. Who wouldn’t want to live la dolce vita?

Tuscan Villa – 2015

Of course in the book the villa came complete with all the necessary servants, so hiring a chef to do the cooking would be the sensible thing to do. (You could invite Amal for tea, she’s British and may be in need of a cuppa and a break from the bambinos). Isn’t that part of the attraction of period pieces, there was always someone to prepare the meals, wash the dishes, care for the children…..and look after the garden.

It’s not surprising that there were such lovely descriptions of the flowers and grounds in the book, as the author’s first bestseller was Elizabeth and Her German Garden in 1898. I have not read that one yet, as I plan on reading it outside on the deck whenever it gets warm enough, as inspiration for gardening season. But I did read her book, The Solitary Summer, last summer which I enjoyed also, which concerned her need for solitude and beauty in the countryside with her April, May and June babies. Her first best seller was published anonymously, and the subsequent ones as by the author of Elizabeth and Her German Garden. Because these books are old and often out of print they are best ordered online.

Perhaps there is something about being in such a lovely setting that inspires love. In the book their husbands became more appreciative, although no one runs off and has an affair, (it was a more decorous time), well only the single one. I remember reading once in a book on Italy about a medical condition called, Stendhal’s Syndrome, which is an emotional reaction to too much loveliness. A handful of tourists are treated for this every year in Florence, having been overwhelmed by an excess of beauty. Finally a medical condition we can all aspire too! Of course we don’t have to go to Italy to experience beauty in our lives – it is all around us, we just have to pay attention. Is it possible to surround yourself with an excess of loveliness, especially in a world which so often seems full of evil, hate, and ugliness? Perhaps not, but it is an admirable goal to choose to focus on what is lovely in the world, and so much better for your health! Buona giornata!

Quote of the Day: “It is their manners as a whole, their natural ways, bonhomie, the great art of being happy which is here practiced with this added charm, that the good people do not know that it is an art, the most difficult of all.” (Stendhal on Italy)

Song of the Day: April Love by Pat Boone

April in Paris – Part Two

April 12, 2018March 25, 20199 Comments

Paris – the City of Love. How many romantic movies begin and end there, complete with visions of strolling along the Seine beneath the chestnut trees with your amour. Continuing our Parisian theme (see April in Paris – Part One) with some bibliotherapy for the Francophile may I present a book that is simply enchante. A Paris Year – by Janice MacLeod (My Good-reads review below)

A Paris Year: My Day-to-Day Adventures in the Most Romantic City in the World by Janice Macleod

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Janice MacLeod’s first book, Paris Letters, chronicled her Paris adventures after she quit her job, sold everything she owned and moved to the City of Light. This sequel, A Paris Year, is more like a personal journal of her year there, full of photos and illustrations, (she is a watercolor artist). The cover alone is gorgeous, and the pages are a visual treat. While there, she acquired a French husband who just nodded when she told him she was making a pretty book about Paris, and that’s exactly what it is. Should be required reading for anyone contemplating a trip to Paris, so they know what to expect, and for the rest of us who only dream. A charming, thoroughly enjoyable book.

I noticed this book in the bookstore because of it’s beautiful cover, (one of the author’s watercolor paintings),

: A Paris Year – Janice MacLeod

but at $35 Cdn plus tax, decided to order it through the library instead, but I enjoyed it so much I bought it. Although I had read her earlier book Paris Letters it didn’t grab my attention the way this one did. Perhaps because I thought the ending was too pat, in a we-must-have-a-happy-ending for the book way (there is a wedding picture of her and her French husband on the last page), but then I felt the same way about Eat Pray Love, and look how that turned out, despite a subsequent book on staying Committed. It is wise to be skeptical of a relationship where two people don’t speak the same language and don’t seem to have anything in common (ah yes, but love is not always wise, and as the song says, is for the very young), but frankly as an older more cynical person I was worried about her. An exception would be Colin Firth in Love Actually, who learned Portuguese so he could communicate with his new love, but I think we might all learn The King’s Speech if Colin Firth was involved. There is an admirable degree of bravery in wanting a different life and doing something about it, but when you are older you realize there doesn’t always have to be a guy at the end for it to be a happy ending. Just once I would like one of these memoir travel type books to end with the author just sitting Under the Tuscan sun, gazing contentedly at the gorgeous view…..and if the gorgeous view happened to include your own Colin Firth that would be okay too! (I think I shall write it myself – “Our middle-aged (but well preserved due to French beauty secret), heroine-in-waiting is sitting on the terrace of her French villa on a soft summer evening, a glass of chilled Chablis in hand, contemplating the calming rows of lavender waving in the evening breeze and thinking how lucky she is to be here in the lovely light of Provence….

: Provence Lavender Farm – 2017

…when suddenly she observes a man walking up the lane.” The End.

Is it a) a lost tourist b) the vin delivery garcon c) a uniformed police detective or d) Mr. Darcy. The answer is e) all of the above. Stay tuned for the sequel, Murder in Provence, wherein our lovely heroine meets Inspector Darcie LeDuc, who is investigating a series of murders involving art thieves, wine merchants and lost tourists, with plenty of dead bodies sprinkled in the lavender fields and vineyards. Will she be next?)

But I digress (badly), enough about fairy tale endings, forever after and just for the moment. I am glad it all worked out for them because they are now living in the Canadian Rocky Mountains. (link to her website Paris Letters Press) She has a very nice website and also paints and writes a monthly personal letter on Paris which she sends out via snail mail, a business which enabled her to finance her stay there. In the About section she says her first book was about her move to Paris, but her second is about being an artist in Paris, which is one of the reasons I liked it so much. It was just like being there – there were lots of photographs and quirky journal entries about her cafe observations and day to day life in the city. Plus her paintings were charming, but then I am partial to watercolors.

A page from A Paris Year – Janice MacLeod

It is a lovely book visually speaking, an illustrated journal on good quality paper with a beautiful cover, in the same vein as the Susan Branch books on Martha’s Vineyard and England. (if you are not familiar with Susan Branch check her out, her blogs are so inspirational and she is currently blogging on her trip to Cornwall and England). I suspect that type of book, which is basically a hard cover blog, is expensive for a publishing company to produce which could be why Susan Branch now publishes her own. Anyway, both are good reads for armchair travelers.

I split this blog into two, because someone told me my blogs are too long, and the April Love section seemed like it deserved it’s own topic. Does anyone remember the fragrance, Evening in Paris? One of the most popular fragrances in the fifties, it was a light floral fragrance in a blue cobalt bottle (you can still find some of the bottles on e-bay), evoking images of l’heure bleue in the city of love. I have a visual image of my mother wearing her Jackie Kennedy-like sapphire blue dress and beads, dabbing perfume behind her ears, and then bending down to give us red lipstick kisses on our arms, on the rare occasion she went out in the evening. Somehow spraying perfume doesn’t have the same degree of glamour. Last year while cleaning out my mother’s house I came across a bottle of French perfume stashed below the bathroom sink.

Vintage French Perfume – Chat Noir

My mother says it was a gift from my father in the early years of their marriage, which would make it over 60 years old. When I opened it, it still had the sweet smell she remembered, as it had been kept in a cloth bag, in a dark spot, the way you should store expensive perfume. A perfume can evoke an era, a love story, a moment in time. It reminded me of Bogie’s promise to Bacall, we’ll always have Paris. Here’s to romance – may you always have a small piece of Paris in your heart to reminisce about on starry nights.

Postscript: In my university days I wore Je Reviens, and later in my 20’s and 30’s Ombre Rose, then I mostly abandoned perfume because so many places, work and social, have no-scent laws now. My bottle of Ombre Rose from three years ago is still half full. Do you wear perfume, and do you have a favorite scent, or a scent that reminds you of a certain time in your life?

Counting Sheep

March 24, 2018April 12, 201820 Comments

Tick tock, it’s three o’clock…..do you know where your mind is? It’s not asleep, and you’re tired of sheep…..

The Sheep Dog – 2017

Anyone who has ever encountered the insomnia monster at some point in their stress-filled lives please raise their weary heads. You know those dark nights of the soul where all the angst in your little corner of the world converges on your poor befuddled brain in an agony of what-ifs, and you even start to worry about worrying.

Worry Journal

After a few nights of this nonsense, you’re waaaaay overtired, much too tired to sleep and then you start to worry about never ever sleeping again, and how are you going to function the next day on two hours sleep when it’s already three o’clock and all you’ve done is toss and turn for hours, and it’s already starting to get light just as you nod off and the alarm clock shrieks from across the room, and you rise feeling like something the cat dragged in. Whoever invented daylight savings time should be fired. It’s bad enough that it’s getting light earlier in the morning, and the returning birds are twittering up a storm because they’re all excited about spring, and I’m excited too but I just don’t want to spring forward. As a former shift-worker, I’m not the best sleeper anyway. My circadian rhythm has been irreversibly damaged by years of flipping between days and evenings, but that lost extra hour seems to throw my delicate system all out of balance. Like many people I sleep better in the winter, when we can all hibernate like the bears in their caves which are warm and dark, no black out curtains needed. Now that I’m retired sleep isn’t as crucial as it used to be, as I don’t have to get up in the morning, or if I do I don’t have to be as alert as when I was working, but the world does not function on a 2-10 am sleep schedule. The world is full of morning people. I used to be one of them. So it was with great interest that I read The Sleep Solution by W.Chris Winter. What would a blog be without a good book, so here’s some bibliotherapy for insomniacs.

The Sleep Solution: Why Your Sleep Is Broken and How to Fix It by W. Chris Winter

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is a good read for anyone who struggles with insomnia or shift work. The author is a neurologist and sleep specialist physician. Not sure that I learned anything new, other than we sleep more than we think we do, even during the worst night of insomnia, because sleep is an inborn instinct, which is nice to know when you are trying to muddle through the next day. Nobody dies from lack of sleep, (unless I suppose you are in a car accident), and you always do manage to get through the day. It was an interesting perspective, and certainly lessens the worry associated with getting to sleep, which can be a vicious cycle. It’s a bit scientific but written in a humorous style which makes a dry subject entertaining ie it did not put me to sleep…..although I might have had a short nap on the swing…

The key advice I got out of this book is, a) your body craves sleep, it is a basic human drive, so we do sleep more than we think we do even on a night when we swear we didn’t sleep a wink, and b) we always function the next day. This is a simple concept, but somehow reassuring, and helps to break the worry cycle which is the worst part of insomnia, the worrying about not sleeping. Take the worry away, and you can sleep like a baby, well not quite, but it’s a refreshing idea. Of course, the book delves into the usual sleep hygiene routines, exercise, limiting caffeine, nothing new there, as well as chapters on sleep apnea, shift work etc. The author says no one ever died from insomnia, but that’s where I disagree. Studies show that accident rates are always higher in the week after the daylight savings shift, as are heart attacks. They have also shown a link between insomnia and obesity, diabetes, dementia, addiction and cancer. The WHO has now labelled shift work as a probable human carcinogen. Lack of sleep decreases natural killer cell levels by 75% according to some reports. (It’s enough to make you get that worry journal out!) Unfortunately, we have become a sleep-deprived society.

Meditation can be a useful tool to promote sleep. I once took a six week meditation class and while I did not have any luck meditating (lack of practice), a more experienced classmate told me she could nod off after five minutes. I was impressed, but she had been meditating for years. What did work for me was a meditation tape. The best part of the class was the melodious voice of the instructor, so I bought her CD, and listen to the insomnia meditation (13 minutes), if I’m having trouble winding down. Or if I wake up too early (those pesky birds), I will put it on again with my ear buds, and get a couple more hours of deep restful sleep. (Why is the most restful sleep always towards dawn?) The tape is almost like a form of hypnosis, her soporific voice counting to ten and then back down again is so relaxing, and there is music in the background, so it’s like a lullaby for grownups. One day in class she suggested we chose a special song so our bodies would learn to associate that song with relaxation. She played, Shenandoah by James Galway, and I left feeling like a jellyfish. I never listen to that song in the car however, driving while a jellyfish would not be a good idea.

Speaking of music, the song Count Your Blessings from White Christmas, is a lovely visual aid to falling asleep, when you’re tired of those stupid sheep…..seriously, has counting sheep ever worked for anyone? (I apologize for the Bing Crosby again but I grew up on his music). Old Bing just might have been the inspiration for those gratitude journals which were all the rage. I tried a gratitude journal once but found it only made me worry about losing my blessings, but it may work for some (more optimistic) people.

If you struggle with insomnia it’s good to have a bedtime routine, so your body knows it’s time for sleep. A cup of tea and a snack is a relaxing way to unwind.

TV and electronic devices can be overstimulating, so turn them off an hour before bed, especially those bright blue light cell phones, which I’m sure will some day be found to cause eye damage. Low lighting is restful. Reading is good, unless it’s a suspense novel you can’t put it down. I jot down a few lines in my five year diary as a summary of the day. Reading a few pages of an inspirational book can also be a reflective way to end the day.

There’s something about the smell of lavender that is so calming. Spraying the room with lavender pillow spray can become a sleep routine association and this can work well if you travel and are staying in hotels rooms with stale air.

: Lavender Pillow Spray

A more portable option is putting a lavender sachet under the pillow for sweet dreams.

Lavender sachets

Lavender also reminds me of France, a country that has an appreciation for all things lovely, and that is known for taking long lunches mid-day, with plenty of expresso after you are fed and rested. Try and get lots of sleep, because we’ll be spending April in Paris. Unfortunately, jet lag is a whole other story….

Quote of the Day:

“Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care
The death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath
Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course,
Chief nourisher in life’s feast.”
(William Shakespeare, Macbeth)

What are your secrets for getting to sleep on those dark nights of the soul?

An Interview with Jane Austen

February 8, 2018October 24, 202021 Comments

I’m a Jane Austen fan. Although I would not consider myself a Janeite, whenever a new book comes out about her life I’m sure to check it out. Recently I saw this one, Jane Austen at Home, on the new releases list, and reviewed it on Goodreads.

Jane Austen at Home by Lucy Worsley

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Can there be such a thing as a bad book about Jane Austen – no. Even though we know every detail of her story, and there is really nothing new to be discovered about her life, (excepting the photo of the blue and white egg cup excavated at the Steventon Rectory), Austen fans still find any new book about her fascinating. This is a particularly satisfying read as it focuses more on her quest for a home – after all she is the author who wrote “There’s nothing like staying home for real comfort.” Of course, there are the usual biographical facts, literary and otherwise, seeming to focus more on her personal life, including her five marriage proposals, thus dispelling the myth that she was a lonely old spinster. (Really the woman was so intelligent as to be intimidating, and would she have been happy with any of them?) There is a satisfying number (40 pages or so) of footnotes, always a sign of a good biography, and some photographs, including said egg cup. A lovely read for commemorating the two hundredth anniversary of her death – we remain as captivated as ever.

A friend gave me The Wit and Wisdom of Jane Austen, (edited by Joelle Herr), for Christmas as she knew I was a fan, and it is full of her famous quotes and observations. Pride and Prejudice is my favorite Austen book, and then Emma, but some of the others I must admit I have never read, although I have seen the movie versions. It is her life that I find most intriguing. I often find authors lives to be as or sometimes more interesting than their books, (check out Margaret Mitchell’s biography for parallels to Gone with The Wind, the character of Rhett Butler was thought to be based on her first husband and Ashley Wilkes on her second). If you are a writer, you want to know where they got their ideas. Due to the lack of media back then and the passage of time we have little to base our conclusions upon, and baring someone discovering a cache of old letters in their great house, there is nothing new under the sun about Jane Austen, but we still can’t get enough of her life. She remains a puzzle, an enigma, we want to figure her out. A fellow blogger asked me which historical figure I would most like to interview, and my answer was Jane. And so, as Jane said, indulge your imagination in every possible flight.

An Interview with Jane Austen

Welcome to the BBC show, Portal to the Past. We would like to welcome renowned British author, Jane Austen. Even though she has been dead for over two hundred years she has been gracious enough to grant us this exclusive interview, and we thank her for the opportunity, because two centuries later we remain as fascinated by her as ever. (Cue opening pianoforte music link). Jane enters, wearing a white flowing Stella McCarthy gown, because a woman can never be too fine while she is all in white. (Camera man sighs, white is not good for the camera, adjusts lighting).

Host: Welcome Jane. Would you like some tea?

Jane: (demurely declines refreshments. She doesn’t want to smear her lipstick – imagine lipstick! Something to make your lips ruby-red and kiss-worthy. She wonders if she’ll get a free swag bag from Sephora).

Host: I’m so glad you could join us today.

Jane: There is nothing like staying home for real comfort, but if adventures will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad.

Host: Did you ever imagine when you were sitting at your little writing table in Chawton Cottage, scribbling away about three or four families in a country village, that your novels would still be read two hundred years later?

Jane: (smiles sweetly) Alas, it is only a novel… or, in short, some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humor are conveyed to the world in the best chosen language.

Host: Did you ever dream that you would become so famous?

Jane: I have no talent for certainty, but I always had a quiet confidence in my abilities. The fame though was quite unexpected, though slight initially it has now has grown to such proportions that I find myself adorning the ten pound note. (blushes modestly). Pictures of perfection make me sick and wicked. I lay the blame on my nephew for that biography he penned. Fame can be a double-edged sword, for regrettably I have now lost all privacy, and sometimes when I want to pay a visit to Chawton Cottage, there are too many tourists milling about.

Host: (surprised) Are you saying you haunt your old sites?

Jane: I do enjoy dropping by occasionally, but the tourists, their fashion choices are really quite beyond comprehension. It would be mortifying to the feelings of many ladies, could they be made to understand how little the heart of man is affected by what is costly or new in their attire, but still…yoga pants and t-shirts. (shakes head, and thinks silently, for what do we live, but to make sport of our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn.) Chawton House was my only true home and I was very content there. Sometimes I like to sit at my little desk and recollect….or I might visit the kitchen if the new cook is on, because as you know good apple pies were a considerable part of our domestic happiness. As for my childhood home there is nothing remaining, although I read that a blue and white egg cup was discovered recently in an excavation at Steventon Rectory, but it wasn’t mine, it was Cassandra’s. An egg cup – really! Which of all my important nothings shall I tell you first. It seems like a fair bit of nonsense that people would be interested in such things, but that is the price of fame. One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other.

Host: Are you aware of how many copies of your books have sold, 20 million of Pride and Prejudice alone?

Jane: Yes it’s quite astonishing to be so immortal, but I wish I had the royalties. A single woman with a narrow income must be a ridiculous, disagreeable old maid, the proper sport of boys and girls; but a single woman of good fortune is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as anybody else.

Host: That portrait of you in the National Gallery, is it a fair likeness, because I’m not seeing too much of a resemblance? (it might be the makeup and hair blowout, thinks to self, but a little makeup can make even the plainest Jane quite pretty.)

Jane: I believe it has been photo-shopped too often to be an accurate portrayal. (ponders uploading a new photo via Instagram for the ten pound note). To look almost pretty is an acquisition of higher delight to a girl who has been looking plain the first fifteen years of her life than a beauty from her cradle can ever receive.

Host: Are you happy with your media image? The sweet loving demure persona, sunny Jane?

Jane: I must confess I was a bit annoyed with my sister Casandra for destroying most of my letters, especially the ones full of sarcasm and wit. The ones that survive make me out to be some sort of vapid ninny. I suppose she thought she was protecting my reputation…(sigh)…but she destroyed the best ones.

Host: You had five marriage proposals and turned them all down, did you ever regret being a spinster?

Jane: One should only marry for love. And the more I know of the world, the more am I convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love. I require so much! You must be the best judge of your own happiness.

Host: What do you think of the movie versions of your novels?

Jane: Some were of more merit than others, but Colin Firth was simply divine as Mr. Darcy. Such a handsome man. I wish I had thought of that wet shirt scene but that would have been too risqué for the era.

Host: Speaking of Mr. Darcy – who was the model for that darling man?

Jane: ………………(prolonged silence, that wasn’t in the script, looks extremely annoyed).

Host: (quickly changes subject). And that famous speech, let me tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Did people really talk like that back then?

Jane: HA, that speech……(contemplates laughing)…..Said. No. Man. Ever.

Host: Jane you seem to be well versed in the ways of the modern world, colloquial speech, photoshop, how do you know about all these things?

Jane: The afterlife is heaven – there’s plenty of time to read and learn new endeavors. With a book, you are regardless of time. You ask yourself, why did we wait for any thing? Why not seize the pleasure at once? How often is happiness destroyed by preparation, foolish preparation! There are balls and a fair bit of dancing, and dancing leads to romance, for to be fond of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love. If one has been forced into prudence in one’s youth, one can learn romance as one grows older.

Host: Well that sounds fascinating….romance in heaven. (eyes camera man signalling time’s up). Any advice for modern day lovers?

Jane: Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. But don’t settle. Do anything rather than marry without affection. Wait for your own Mr. Darcy…..(flutters false eyelashes and smiles coyly)….I have found mine….

Host: Thank you Jane. (notices camera man motioning cut). You have delighted us long enough. Would you like more tea?

Jane: Thank you, but I must dash to Sephora before the portal closes and I have to return to the past.

And so there you have it folks, Jane in her own words. Like I said, nothing new there…..other than the blue and white egg cup was Cassandra’s.

(Disclaimer: I apologize in advance if I have messed up any of the quotes or facts as I am by no means an authority on Jane Austen, merely a fan. Next up, the Brontes – Branwell would be on board for sure, Charlotte and Anne might be tempted but Emily would never agree.)

In Praise of Second-Hand Books

February 1, 2018January 20, 201814 Comments

The Rotary Club is holding its annual second-hand book sale, 27,000 volumes are up for grabs, and I am a bit grumpy today because I’m missing it. A snowstorm descended upon us about the same time the venue opened at 8:30 and as every book lover knows, the best ones go fast. Normally I’m content to stay inside on such a blustery day, but I’m regretting the bargains I am surely missing, at one or two dollars a book. But no use crying over lost volumes. I have resigned myself to going on Sunday, when the remainders are five dollars a bag, but the selection poorer. Last year I went both Friday and Sunday – the stuff-a-bag day was to stock up on travel/photography/coffee-table books for my mother, the artist AMc, to use for inspiration for her paintings now that she is too old to travel. (She has an extensive collection of over-sized volumes of Canadian scenery if anyone wants to know what Canada looks like). We also have a second-hand book store in town, but the hours are erratic and the prices higher, nor have I had much luck with garage sale castoffs, which tend to be mostly romance or paperbacks or both. Admittedly book sales are always hit and miss, but other people’s discards can turn out to be treasures.

The beauty of book sales is you never know what you might find. Last year’s haul included a Loonyspoons Low Fat cookbook, (which I had always wanted but have not used), a medical manual of Cardiopulmonary Emergencies, (my dysfunctional heart valve will need repairing some day and I might want more info than WebMd can provide, also not opened), a thesaurus, (somewhat obsolete but the online version has limitations), a slim volume of pioneer Christmas stories with a pretty cover and a red ribbon, (because I’m a sucker for a book with a ribbon), two novels, The Lake House by Kate Morton (already read but might re-gift, I like to share good books), and Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand (not read, but I enjoyed her latest), Victoria – A Shop of One’s Own, (I collect old Victoria books as well as the decorating magazines), a calendar day-book of art by Maud Lewis,

(a Nova Scotia folk artist whose life was recently portrayed in the movie Maudie, because my mother’s paintings have been compared to hers), and an apprentice textbook from U of Toronto 1934 (which I found fascinating because it was full of old chemical formulas and my profession has evolved way beyond how to sterilize bottles), plus three quotation books which turned out to be absolute duds, (I would really like Bartlett’s Book of Quotations, as it would be useful for the blog).

Book sales are good for travel books if you are an armchair travel like myself. I scooped up a travel guide to Provence and two books on Italy, one of which I had already read, Elements of Italy, and the other,A Month in Italy, because it’s my dream someday. If you can’t go yourself you can enjoy reading about someone else’s adventures and avoid the jet lag and lost luggage, and in the case of Italy, the weight gain. Speaking of good food, there always seems to be a profusion of cookbooks at book sales, as well as diet fads from years past. The children’s books always go quickly I am happy to see. It’s nice to see parents starting a library, and the book-on-every-bed Christmas project is such a good idea to inspire early readers.

Last year I came across a young adult book, Robin Kane, The Candle Shop Mystery, which I did not buy because I have the exact same copy in my basement. What were the chances of that happening, as I don’t remember that series being as popular as Trixie Belden, which I also still possess.

I always got a book for Christmas, usually a Trixie Belden, the Nancy Drew-like girl detective of the 1960’s, (here she is searching for dead bodies),

otherwise we went to the library. I still get the majority of my books from the library, as I read so much it would be prohibitively expensive to buy them all, and our local library is excellent at ordering in anything you might request, plus the librarians there are all such lovely helpful people. Generally, I only buy what I would re-read, but this year as one of my New Year’s resolutions I decided to start to add to my library again, which is currently three shelves in the basement and den, (see decluttering blog Jan), but only those books which I truly love and would re-read. When I end up in a nursing home some day I want to be surrounded by my favorites, and not dependent on some volunteer lady bringing around a cart full of Harlequin paperbacks.

Now, I haven’t actually opened any of those books I bought last year, (some may end up being recycled), but it gives me comfort to know they are there if I am desperate for something to read. I once spent a week on Turks and Caicos with a selection of bad books and no store in sight, only a strip mall with one lonely souvenir shop, this was before the island was developed and long before e-readers, which are wonderful for travel, but I would much rather hold a book in my hand. I am such an avid reader, that I always want to have something in reserve or I get antsy. What if nothing comes in from the library – it’s either feast or famine – although sometimes having too many books out can be a strange form of retirement stress. That stack on your bedside table can start to feel like pressure when they are all non-renewable best sellers, and if you return them unread there are sixty-five people ahead of you again. Buying them solves that problem, as you can read at your own leisurely pace.

It’s amazing the weird and wonderful things you can find at book sales, ancient volumes from estates, such as yellowed cloth-worn sets of Poe or Kipling, or outdated encyclopedias. Did people really read such wordy tombs? Does anyone want them now and what do they do with them when they don’t sell? Although it can be interesting to see what people were reading a hundred years ago and to read the inscriptions inside the books. I have a few old books from the farm attic, but many more got thrown out in the moving process.

farm attic books

A Trapper’s Son was a gift to Lillie from Grandfather, Birthday Sept 14, 1900. L.M. Hewitt is written inside the flyleaf, as well as my aunt’s name at a later date. I have no idea who Lillie was but I googled and The Trapper’s Son, A Tale of North America, was published in 1873 and deals with the conversion to Christianity of a boy brought up in the wilderness. My ancestors were Christian folk, so any religious book was a keeper. Opening A Chestnut Burr, was inscribed to a Miss Lori Dody, and was published in 1874. Surprisingly there were two reviews of this book on Goodreads, the first one, a female, said, “A deeply Christian story with a thoroughly delightful ending. There’s a good bit of romance and outdoors.” The other reviewer, a man, said, don’t bother. The romance factor must have far outweighed the outdoors part. I couldn’t find anything on The Recluse of Rambouillet, (pub.1896), but it appears to be a translation from French about castles and kings. As my grandmother’s name is inscribed inside, Dec 1899, 3rd prize, 4th class, it was probably some kind of school prize. Poe’s Tales, (Xmas 1904, from Henry), can join it’s many brethren on E-Bay, but it is nice to know that books were welcome Christmas presents back then too. Some day I may tackle them, but they seem like relics from some long ago world, full of purple prose as L.M. Montgomery called such grandiose language. Opening sentence from Poe, “The mental features discoursed of as the analytical, are, in themselves, but little susceptible of analysis. We appreciate them only in their effects. We know of them, among other things, that they are always to their possessor, when inordinately possessed, a source of the liveliest enjoyment.” Perhaps there there is something to be said for being concise, what would Poe think of Twitter’s 140k limit and texting. Times change and so do tastes.

Books can be a portal to another universe, especially if the one you are currently in is snowy and white. I’m going to read now…happy hunting!

P.S. What is your favorite book sale find?

Quote on Reading: “Reading is one of the few things you do alone that makes you feel less alone, it’s a solitary activity that connects you to others.” (even in the middle of a snowstorm) Will Schwalbe – Books for Living, author of The End of Your Life Bookclub.

PS. This years treasures included,

The Christmas book jumped out early, whispering, buy me, I will come in handy for next year, the beloved Bartlett’s only revealed itself late in the hunt in a discarded bin under a table, and the Little Women collector’s edition 1994 caught my attention, because even though I still have my childhood copy, it had a ribbon and such pretty illustrations.

Comfort & Joy: The Danish Art of Hygge (or how to survive January)

January 14, 2018April 12, 20185 Comments

“Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful.” The song, Let It Snow, has all the ingredients for winter comfort and joy – popcorn, snuggling by the fire, snowstorm, and the best part for those who hate winter driving, no place to go. It’s also the perfect recipe for hygge.

According to recent surveys, Denmark rates among the happiest countries in the world, and hygge, the Danish art of living well, is a major reason for their sense of wellness. Hygge, which can be summed up as “cocoa by candlelight”, is the perfect antidote to the cold dark winters and is considered a major survival strategy for January when the hours of daylight are few. The Little Book of Hygge – The Danish Way to Live Well was written by Meik Wiking, the CEO of the Happiness Research Institute in Copenhagen. You know that if a country sets out to study happiness they are way ahead of the game. Here is my book review from Goodreads.

The Little Book of Hygge: The Danish Way to Live Well by Meik Wiking

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is a delightful little book, particularly suitable for reading this time of year, preferably during a snow storm. So light some candles, get cozy by the fire with a blanket and a cup of cocoa and prepare to be entertained. Based on the Danish art of living well, it may inspire you to practice a little hygge in your own life…..comes complete with charming pictures too, but warning – the print is very tiny.

For those of us living in more melancholy nations, what exactly is hygge? The word hygge derives from a Norwegian word meaning “well-being”. Hygge is about atmosphere and experiences, not things, (great, I just decluttered, see previous blog post, but I hope I didn’t throw out anything hygge – is it to late to retrieve those plaid pajama bottoms).

In the introduction the author describes a December weekend at a cabin with a group of his friends.

: Cabin in the Woods – 2016

Post hiking, they are sitting around the fire, wearing big jumpers and woolen socks, reading or half asleep and the only sound is the stew boiling, the sparks from the fire and someone having a sip of their mulled wine. One of them breaks the silence and asks, could this be any more hygge, and someone answers, yes, if there was a storm raging outside, they all nod. This is hygge in a nutshell, except he forgot the candles, (they are big on candles in Denmark as they have seventeen hours of darkness in the winter months), so I would like to add that I hope they ate by candlelight, and had coffee and cake later by the fire, (they are big on coffee and confectioneries too).

According to the author, Danes have less anxiety and worry in their daily lives due to the cradle to grave social welfare state. They don’t resent paying high taxes as they consider it investing in society and improving the quality of life. What’s not to like about a country with paid daycare, where parents of small children must leave work early, and no one works nights or weekends, thus leaving more time for family and friends and all the other hygge-like things to do…..watch tv, read, relax.

The concept of hygge includes coziness, candles, coffee, blankets, fireplaces, hot drinks, good food, natural or rustic decor, nooks, soft lighting, comfortable clothing and casual entertaining. Interestingly, the hygge life-style can be excellent for introverts, as it is a low-key way of being social without being drained or exhausted by too much activity and partying, not to mention being a soothing balm for over-stimulated minds at the end of the work day. Even their workplaces try to be hygge. They may have couches instead of desks. I think I want to move. I have a vague recollection of one of my first workplaces in the eighties where we had birthday cake during department meetings. It was a horrible place to work but the cake was good. At my last job we didn’t even get meal breaks. Or course, a hygge-like state is only possible if it is in contrast to something non-hygge, which tends to be the status quo for modern life. Life today is a rat-race, stressful and unfair, money and jobs rule. This book can inspire us to stop occasionally and add a little hygge to our lives, and don’t forget the cake! (see next blog, How To Make Your Home Hygge).

Benjamin Franklin quote: “Happiness consists more in small conveniences or pleasures that occur every day then in great pieces of good fortune that happen but seldom.”

Snow Day – 2015

Decluttering 101 Out With The Old

January 7, 2018March 4, 20195 Comments

If decluttering your personal space is one of your New Year’s resolutions then you may be interested in, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, by Marie Kondo.

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing by Marie Kondō

My yoga teacher lent me a copy of this book last year over the Christmas break and I became so motivated by it that cleaning out my house became one of my goals for 2017. Marie Kondo is a Japanese organizing consultant who is booked three months in advance according to her bio, which surprised me as I think of Japan as a nation of tidy people living in small neat houses, but maybe they are pack-rats like most North Americans. Her unique approach has now been trade marked as the KonMari method. The gist of her method is that you are to tidy by category and all at once, by dumping everything of each item from all over your house in the center of the room, shirts for example, and then you are to hold each item in your hand and “if it doesn’t spark joy”, out it goes. You will then only be surrounded by the things you love. The author was young and single and lived in a bedroom/apartment when the book was written in 2011, so although it is an interesting premise, some of the suggestions are not quite practical for a larger space shared with other people. What if something doesn’t bring you joy, (old electronic devices, the hamster cage, hockey equipment), but might bring joy to someone else? Then there are the things that don’t bring you joy but you need anyway. My iron doesn’t bring me joy, (I hate ironing, but I hate wrinkles even more), but I don’t plan on throwing it out. Toys should only be stored in one place? That might cause a few temper tantrums. Some of the suggestions border on the bizarre, you should talk to your house and your possessions and thank them for taking care of you? “Thank you for keeping me warm all day. Thank you for making me beautiful.” My sad old kitchen which is desperately in need of renovation might feel better if I spoke lovingly to it, but would I sound like George Bailey at the end of It’s A Wonderful Life, joyously greeting the miserable old Building and Loan. Or empty your purse every night, place wallet, makeup and put everything in it’s assigned place, and then repack it in the morning. I admire purse minimalists, but I am not one of them, my purse holds everything but the kitchen sink, so that would take over an hour. She often speaks of inanimate objects as if they had souls and feelings. What do the things in your house that don’t spark joy actually feel? They simply want to leave. Everything you own wants to be of use to you. It must be a Feng-shui kind of thing. Does my iron hate me as much as I hate it?

Still there was enough in the book to motivate me, so I diligently spent the month of January last year cleaning out my house, and the month of February attempting to clean out my mother’s, and some of March down in the basement, (home of the paper archives), and then it was spring, and I lost interest. Purging all at once was just not practical for me, a few hours here and there was the best I could do with my three-level house…yes, I broke the rules. I was less successful with my mother’s house, as she was born in the Depression and so has more of an attachment to empty coffee canisters and plastic storage containers than I do. (Perhaps that is why Marie is so booked up, it is much easier to get rid of someone else’s stuff than your own). “Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without,” was a popular saying in the Depression, which may explain why that generation tends to hoard such things, while the baby boomers, because we didn’t grow up with as much as kids today, were more into acquiring material things, (fine china, mahogany dining room sets), and the millennials are minimalists indeed who would rather have experiences than things, and only buy what they need. Speaking of psychoanalysis, while some of the book reviews I read unkindly label the author as having OCD, (if I had sold five million copies I wouldn’t care what they called me), there is a sad chapter towards the end of the book where she explains her need to be compulsively tidy since a young age as an attempt to attract her parent’s love and attention and avoid being dependent on other people. She was a middle child (self-explanatory).

Some pointers from the book – sort all in one shot, by category, not location. There are only two actions, discarding and deciding where to store things. Start by discarding, all at once, intensely and completely, then decide where to store things, and keep them only in that place. (Discard first, store later). Do not start with mementos. Start with easier items, clothes, books, papers, misc., and then mementos. We should be choosing what to keep, not what we want to get rid of. She recommends folding clothes in rectangles and then storing them vertically, standing up in drawers, so you can see everything, and they are less wrinkled. Store all items of the same type in the same place, and don’t scatter storage space, including designating storage space for each family member. Fancy storage systems = bad, they justify keeping stuff you shouldn’t. Some clothes like coats and dresses are happier hung up. I’m relieved my elegant black cocktail dress, (Winners sale), is happy even though it’s never been worn. Keep only those books which make you happy to see on the shelves. Out go those university text books I kept in case I felt the need to study chemistry again, (which I did twenty years later for a degree upgrade). Now they are but sentimental reminders of a time when I was smarter and had a better memory. Sorting papers – rule of thumb – discard everything! She relents and says you can keep some things like insurance policies, love letters etc. but only if they are stored in one spot only. On sentimental items – “No matter how wonderful things used to be we cannot live in the past – the joy and excitement we feel here and now are more important.” Yes, that is true, but what about keeping things for future generations? As a lover of history and genealogy, I wish my ancestors had kept more things, not less,

treasured heirlooms

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(see Nov. blog on Uncle Charlie WW1 Vet), and museums would be empty if we throw everything away just because it’s old. I am glad I kept those letters from my younger pre-email years, they are treasured memories for myself and for future generations.

What makes some things more difficult to get rid of is they either remind us of things past, (childhood toys, I kept my Barbie dolls and clothes),

Skipper and wardrobe 1965

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or we might have a future need for them some time and they won’t be there. I still haven’t read those books I picked up at the book sale last winter, but we might be snowed in for a week and then I’ll have something to read. Most bookworms have great difficulty getting rid of books. It seems a shame to discard a book, unless it’s a really bad book, and even then someone put a lot of effort into writing it. (I once read that books are one of the most often requested items in refugee camps). While I won’t be appearing on any hoarder reality tv shows, I do have a problem with some categories (see blog on vintage clothes on the main menu), and I admit I am a paper pack-rat too. With the clothes I am mourning the life I had, or aspired to (in the case of that chic little black cocktail dress with the bow in the back). My intention with The Vintage Corner was to sell some of the clothes and donate the money to charity, which can always make you feel better about throwing things out. I lost track of how many trips I made to the local thrift shop, but one day when I took an old ghetto-blaster in, (music for the garage, but it was never used and covered with dust), there was an immigrant family looking for a radio, so it was perfect timing. How happy they were, and how pleased I was to be able to help someone else.

Recently I came across a review for a new book from Sweden, “The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning” (Scribner Jan 2018) by Margareta Magnusson, which may be more suited to older generations.

The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Make Your Loved Ones’ Lives Easier and Your Own Life More Pleasant by Margareta Magnusson

This Swedish author recommends you streamline your belongings while you are still healthy enough to do the job, thus saving relatives the difficult task of sorting out after you are gone. It sounds morbid but it is actually uplifting, finding the right homes for all your beloved possessions so they can bring joy to someone else, plus it can relieve the burden of looking after so many things when you might not have the health or energy to do so. Still it does make me sad to walk into a thrift store and see all those lovely sets of good china which graced many a holiday table and which no one wants anymore. I collect blue and white china (which does bring me joy),

My grandmother’s turkey platter

and thrift shops are excellent places for that, although I am now more selective in what I buy.

The final chapter in the Marie Kondo book deals with the life-changing part of the title – apparently “the lives of those who tidied thoroughly and completely in a single shot are without exception dramatically altered.” Some of her clients discarded their excess weight, their jobs and even their husbands, and went on to live much happier lives. The rationale for this is that detoxifying your house has a detoxifying effect on your body and mind as well. It increases your happiness and good fortune to live in a natural state surrounded only by the things you love. She says, “when you put your house in order, you put your affairs and your past too, and you can see quite clearly what you need in life and what you don’t, and what you should and shouldn’t do.” The things we really like do not change much over time. Putting your house in order is a great way to discover what they are. I’m not sure if this is just so much psycho mumbo-jumbo, but you cannot deny it is a serene feeling to having a clean and tidy house. She does not seem to acknowledge however that some people prefer and even feel more comfortable with a certain degree of clutter around them. It makes a home look lived in as opposed to one staged for a real estate open house…you know the type, when you walk into a house and nothing is out of place and there’s not an open book in sight. I can’t say my life was altered in any transformative way, (but then I broke the all in one shot rule), but I would have to say the book was successful in making me stop and think, do I really need to keep this, and while some clutter has crept back, the usual suspects in the usual places, (papers in the den and kitchen drawers you may plead guilty), over-all it was a worthwhile read. The whole concept of sparking joy, while airy-fairy, did make me much more conscious of what I bought. Not only did a new acquisition have to bring me joy, but did I even need it? After spending three months decluttering I didn’t want to have to do it again. But there was a good feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction when it was done and someday when I must downsize there will be less to pack and unpack. As anyone who has ever moved can attest, moving can be a great motivator for decluttering.

The other day I saw a very large moving truck on my street, it almost stretched the whole block, which made me think about how much stuff people have today compared to the past. My maternal grandmother came through Ellis Island in 1922 from Holland, on her honeymoon, with one large wicker trunk containing all her worldly possessions. My dad’s ancestors arrived in Canada from Ireland in 1846 at the height of the potato famine with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They abandoned what few supplies they brought with them, when they jumped ship in the St. Lawrence during a cholera epidemic. They had to borrow one pound from the Canadian government (National Archive Records), for water transport from Toronto to where they settled, but by 1900 they had nice crystal,

farm heirloom

and monogrammed silverware, (I wish I still had some of those forks). Things can bring you pleasure and joy and we can spend a lifetime buying but in the end, we have nothing – you can’t take it with you, as the saying goes. There is a time to collect stuff and a time to get rid of it.

Incidentally, about a month after I returned the book to my yoga instructor, I saw a copy at a thrift shop for two dollars, so I bought it to keep as a reference book, which is a no-no according to the rules, but which I knew would come in handy some day. The author also has a sequel, Spark Joy – An Illustrated Master Class in Organizing and Tidying Up, but when I picked it up and glanced through it, there was a whole section on camisole folding, and since I don’t own any camisoles, I closed it back up and left it there on the shelf to bring joy to someone else.

Quote of the Day: “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” (William Morris)

Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol

December 20, 2017December 11, 201915 Comments

We have Charles Dickens to thank or blame, depending on your perspective, for the present Christmas madness. The movie about The Man Who Invented Christmas is currently in theaters, and was based on a 2009 book by Les Standiford.
The Man Who Invented Christmas: How Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol Rescued His Career and Revived Our Holiday Spirits by Les Standiford

Maybe Santa will bring me this for Christmas…hint, hint.

Although I have not seen or read either, I am currently in the process of re-reading A Christmas Carol, the illustrated version, an annual tradition I try to keep, although I don’t always succeed.

A Christmas Carol is my favorite book of all time. I love it for it’s perfect plot, it’s memorable characters and its simple message of hope and redemption. While I like the movie (especially the 1951 version with Alistair Sim, although the 1938 version has a better Tiny Tim and Bob Cratchit and a much scarier ghost of Christmas past which would have me scurrying to bed when I was Tiny Tim’s age), the book itself is pure perfection. You wouldn’t change a thing in it. It’s so ingrained in our memory that we couldn’t imagine it any other way. Desperate for money, with a mortgage overdue and six children to support, Dickens produced it in a mad six-week frenzy in October of 1843. It was published on Dec 19, just in time for the Christmas trade, and immediately sold out, and has been in print ever since.

If I am ever in New York at Christmas time, my first stop will be the Morgan Library, where every year Dickens original handwritten sixty-eight-page manuscript is on display over the holiday season. Dickens chose the red leather binding himself and gifted and inscribed it to his friend, Thomas Mitton. Here is an online link to the manuscript, and you can now buy a facsimile copy from the Morgan shop online.

http://www.themorgan.org/exhibitions/charles-dickens-a-christmas-carol

A few years ago, the library held a contest for Dickens fans and scholars to study the manuscript in search of the most noteworthy editorial changes. While he may have written it in an outpouring of creative genius, he still did a lot of crossing out and revising. Can you imagine Tiny Tim being called Fred? It is a sad part of history lost that our present writing methods no longer permit this peek into the creative process.

Dickens was long-winded, (why use one word when ten will do), so for a short tale, it is wordy, but it’s not as bad as Oliver Twist (which I read at age twelve when the movie musical came and found a difficult read), or A Tale of Two Cities or any of his other works. In A Christmas Carol the descriptive passages are pure bliss. Some of my favorites include, the description of the damp piercing cold at the beginning of the story, (foggier yes and colder. Piercing, searching, biting cold), the entire passage about the Cratchit household and their Christmas dinner, (Mrs. Crachit dressed out poorly in a twice-turned gown but brave in ribbons and Belinda too, and Peter with his collar done up), the dancing and food at old Fezziwig’s party, (away they all went, twenty couples at once), the games (blind man’s bluff and charades) and music at his nephew Fred’s, and the town and the grocer’s all dressed for Christmas with the people sallying forth full of goodwill and good cheer.

And who can forget those classic lines, “Why, where’s our Martha?….not coming on Christmas Day?” “for it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas,” “come and see me, will you come and see me,” and “there’s such a goose, Martha.” The goose description alone is priceless.

”Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a goose the rarest of all birds; a feathered phenomenon, to which a black swan was a matter of course — and in truth it was something very like it in that house. Mrs Cratchit made the gravy (ready beforehand in a little saucepan) hissing hot; Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigour; Miss Belinda sweetened up the apple-sauce; Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped. At last the dishes were set on, and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving-knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she did, and when the long expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife, and feebly cried Hurrah!

There never was such a goose. Bob said he didn’t believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness and flavour, size and cheapness, were the themes of universal admiration. Eked out by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as Mrs Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn’t ate it all at last. Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular, were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows.”

My ancestors always had a goose for Christmas, as was the custom back then as they were readily available on the farm. This post card was given to me by a descendant of a great uncle who had moved to Seattle around 1920. He must have been home for Christmas one year as he has written across the bottom in pencil, Xmas dinner on the farm. I inherited the crystal bowl on the table, but not the goose tradition, only a turkey will do for Christmas. Even Scrooge preferred turkey, as he bought the prize turkey and sent it anonymously to the Cratchit family at the end. (That delivery boy must have been Canadian as he said, “EH?….why, it’s Christmas Day.”)

The pudding description is spectacular too.

“In half a minute Mrs Cratchit entered — flushed, but smiling proudly — with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of half-a-quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top.

Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. It would have been flat heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing.”

Unlike Mrs. Cratchit, I won’t be worrying about the quantity of flour,

or like Tiny Tim, hearing the pudding singing in the copper. I’ll just be listening for the ding of the microwave. Although I bought the pudding at the British shop, the rum sauce will be homemade, and is equally good on vanilla ice cream for those who don’t care for Christmas pudding.

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My standard rum sauce is just a mixture of butter, brown sugar, water and some rum added in the last five minutes, with most of the alcohol boiled away just leaving the flavor. I tend not measure, so it’s never the same from year to year, including the rum which can vary depending on the stress level. It can be made ahead, and stored in the fridge and microwaved later, along with the pudding. You can also buy individual portions of plum pudding at the British shop, but it is more economical to buy the larger size.

If you have a moment of peace and quiet over the holidays, A Christmas Carol is a good read, and a simple reminder of what Christmas is all about. And so, in the words of Tiny Tim, God Bless us Every One!

A Tiny Caroler – Dec 2017

Song of The Day: God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman (because it’s in the book) – click here for music link – The New York Philharmonic Orchestra

PS. Edited Dec. 2018 to add that while I found the movie while interesting I could not get past the fact that Dan Stevens did not suit the role as he will always be Mathew in Downton Abbey. I have not read the book yet but I know Santa will bring it this year, as I bought it myself while shopping for others!

Beach Blanket Books

August 8, 2017August 22, 20181 Comment

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It’s not been a great summer weather wise, too many cool cloudy days with too much rain, but it’s been a great summer for beach books. Retirement stress is having way too many books come in at the library at the same time, (and all just new releases/ bestsellers so nonrenewable), so that the large stack on your bedside table starts to feel like some kind of pressure instead of a pleasurable pursuit. How will I ever get through all these books! I have just recently joined Goodreads (how did I ever survive without it all these years – it’s like a candy store for book lovers), and so will be posting reviews on my site as time permits…..(see link below) So far this summer I have read:

1. Into the Water – Paula Hawkins – (author of The Girl on the Train)

2. Camino Island – John Grisham (a legal tale for book lovers)

3. The Identicals – Elin Hilderbrand (the Queen of Beach Fluff)

4. Secrets of a Happy Marriage – Cathy Kelly – (who is Maeve Binchy reincarnated)

5. All By Myself Alone – Mary Higgins Clark – (the Queen of Suspense) – just starting and good for a couple of late nights…

They were all good reads. You don’t want anything too heavy in the summer, (you can’t lug Anna Karenina to the beach, or Moby Dick unless of course you want to fall asleep), just a nice piece of beach fluff you can sink into while you sink your toes in the sand. There is nothing quite like a good beach read – you emerge four hours later when the sun is low in the sky and hopefully you will have remembered to apply sunscreen. It’s like the perfect summer fling, fun while while it lasts but not too memorable.

Song of the Day: Love Letters in the Sand – Pat Boone