Unofficially Joining the Read-a-thon

What October means to me...the kick off to my three most favorite months of the year! The leaves are changing. Our homegrown pumpkins and cornstalks join the other harvest decorations around town. I am drinking way too many pumpkin spice lattes (a nod in return to JoAnn:). And Dewey's read-a-thon returns.

I was a lot late in learning the date for the RAT and decided not to participate as life has been a little fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants lately but now that the day is here I don't want to miss out completely. So although I am not signed up, I am going to join in...unofficially. The hour is late and I may be only able to read and cheer on for a few hours but nonetheless I am in and will begin by answering the traditional opening meme...

1. Where are you reading from today? Central PA, USA

2. Three random facts about me: 1. I was the top fundraiser in my third grade math-a-thon...I hate math. 2. I took the CBEST for fun...well and to rub the fact that I passed it in the face of a guy I despised because he was taking it for the fifth time. 3. I love games...I have this competitive side that I blame on my dad:)

3. How many books do you have in your TBR pile for the next 24 hours? One book does not a pile make... I will be reading Bleak House.

4. Do you have any goals for the read-a-thon? No.

5. If you are a veteran read-a-thoner, do you have any advice for people doing this for the first time? Read whatever takes your fancy when it takes your fancy and if you have no fancy at all take a break.

I also hope to spend some part of the day catching up with my favorite blogs. My last post was in June and I am about that far behind as I was able to check in only a few times during the summer. My youngest began kindergarten this fall and as a family we are getting back in the groove, so I hope to return to blogging on a regular basis. I did return to the original name of my blog, I missed it so.

I am off for a hot cup of coffee to go along with the latest in Esther's narrative.

Gladys Taber wrote "There is, I think...

...a special bond between people who like the same books." This thought goes a long way in explaining why I feel an affinity for people I have never met but know I like because we share a love for the written word. Once again, I have trusted another blogger's affection for an author and have been rewarded tenfold.

For the longest time, I have been bumping into Gladys Taber at Nan's Letters from a Hill Farm but not until Nan met Susan (if you scroll down on Branch's page, there is a beautiful tribute to Taber) during a fortuitous hour of blog-catching-up, did I finally seek Gladys out. I was lucky to find that my library had six of her books (and several others that I can attain through inter-library loans).

I am always a little nervous when I pick up a new-to-me author that a blogger who I respect loves for fear that I may not feel the same but Taber's Stillmeadow Calendar was finished within twenty-four hours and there was no need to worry. It was exactly the book I needed to settle my mind and my heart as we set up in our new home. So many things needed to get done that I couldn't truly relax. And I needed to relax after moving and cleaning for six straight days but with my mind racing with all that would need to be done within the next couple of months I just couldn't. The one thing that usually can slow me down, a good book, just wasn't working. Nothing I picked up had the desired effect. Until I tested the Taber waters by reading the foreword to Stillmeadow Calendar in which Gladys writes about the Connecticut farmhouse she and her friend, Jill, make, first, into their second home, and, second, into their first home. It was an ongoing process as the making of any home is. This, I needed to be reminded of.

As for the rest of the book, it is simply wonderful, full of so many passages I wanted to highlight or underline but alas could not since it belongs to the library:) There is an undercurrent of sadness as the year Gladys writes about is one spent without her beloved Jill but the presence of family and friends tempers the great loss.

I have moved onto Stillmeadow Daybook and am savoring bits of it in between organizing the garage (isn't the point to park the cars inside, not park boxes one doesn't wish to unpack) and filling up the wading pool to combat the heat and humidity. How I wish we had the Stillmeadow pond to paddle around in instead. I would wear my old suit and tennis shoes just like Gladys but would also throw on the great sun hat her friend dons for a swim. Oh well...I will just be grateful for the yard we have which is a perfect patch for reading a good book.

Currently Reading...

...a lot of legal documents. We have chosen a home and reached an agreement with the seller. If all goes as planned, we should be in our new home by summer. Because of the brain cramp that comes over me every time I pick up contract to read and sign, I had to set Bleak House aside in favor of a comfort read... a rereading of James Herriot's complete series. With how many times my mind wanders while trying to get through a paragraph, Herriot is a perfect choice.

My reading takes place in the late minutes/hours before bed because I have started sorting, cleaning and planning the move. Next up will be packing what I can get away with so far out from the actual move. Free time is in short supply and as such I will be taking a break from blogging until life resumes normality.

A Little Distracted...

It has been a while since posting. It seems pointless to say but I have been a little distracted from blogging...and, ugh, reading. I have picked up a handful of books only to put them down after 30 pages or so with the exception of Florence King's Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady which was a reread.

There are a numbers of reasons for my attention jumping all over the place...crochet projects for gifts, two March birthdays, and the hours I have spent glued to the radio taking in the turmoil in the Middle East and the tragedy in Japan as well as a very time consuming distraction...

Penelope Lane...

also known as Penny Lane.

My sister got an English Springer Spaniel for her birthday and she has become the center of our universe. We have also ramped up our house hunting with the better weather and I have finally settled with Dickens' behemoth Bleak House which seems to accurately describe the houses currently for sale in our area and my saddened outlook because winter, which is my favorite season, has ended. Boo!

Predicting more distraction to come as we tackle Penny Lane's housebreaking:)

My Computer...

lies in little bits on our bedroom floor. We are having some technical difficulties while upgrading our hard drive. I am writing this post on a borrowed computer and will check in whenever I get access.

In the meantime, I have not started Hard Times yet because I started a new crochet project. Not sure if this Dickens will be set on the back burner just like Pickwick...I have an order from Book Depository coming in of five of his other books as well as a book on Churchill.

So, I put up the third read-along post for Oliver Twist early but am crossing my fingers the computer issues will be resolved soon.

Oliver Twist Read-along: Post Three (Spoilers)

An early read-along posting due to computer issues...

Negative criticism abounds when it comes to Dickens...to each his own...a couple I hear often have to do with the way Dickens ends a story: there are too many coincidences that tie up the loose threads a little too neatly and his happy endings are unrealistic. These criticisms have some truth to them but as a reader they don't bother me. I like my books that way because so much of life is void of happy endings or dreams coming true or discovered unexpected riches. Besides Dickens gives the characters, and the readers, what they deserve because they have endured and suffered so much. So Oliver Twist could not have ended any better for me because every one did get what they deserved and I like myself a little justice at the end of my books. I read the last third of this book with a great sense of urgency. Practically every page was gripping reading with all the revelations and the implosion of the devious and evil.

I have been fascinated by how different my two readings of this book have been. Nancy became so real to me as opposed to the very superficial character I found her to be previously. Her struggle and hopelessness and how blinded by love(?) she was, her death was haunting and Sikes deserved to be haunted as well.

I will read Oliver Twist again as well as Dickens' other works. So much detail is lost over time, so much not observed nor absorbed in a first reading, that each subsequent reading is that much richer and more fulfilling to the reader.

Thank you, Allie, for hosting. To think that I am almost didn't participate...

Oliver Twist Read-along: Post Two (Spoilers)

So rereading Oliver Twist is further proof that pretty much all I retain from a first reading is an impression while the details are lost. I can't believe I forgot so much of the story that this feels like a first reading of Oliver Twist. I don't remember Oliver being shot (from the first book) and I certainly did not remember him being left in a ditch to die. I also don't remember being less than patient with Dickens as he took his time coming back to that part of the story but I must have been (or else I forgave him his carelessness in return for that perfect chapter on Mr. Bumble's proposal to Mrs. Corney).

I also didn't recall Oliver spending so much time with the people he was set to rob but have quite enjoyed my time among them...except for that sense of foreboding because I know Fagin and Sikes won't stay hidden for long. I think at this point I want them to make themselves known, for even I am beginning to think Oliver might be making them up even though I have been a witness to his history all along.

Throughout this second book, I had to keep telling myself to slow down. The curse of rereading and not remembering what happened the first time around has me rushing to get to the end. I can't wait to get to the third book...and so I am off.

Me and the Pickwickians...

...just don't get on. This was my third go and, once again, I cannot get into the club's adventures. The Pickwick Papers remind me of a lot of Sketches with Boz which, although I enjoyed the few sketches I read, I just didn't like them enough to continue. This seems to be the case with the papers as well. I am not completely giving up, the book will be waiting on the shelf for another time, but I am moving on to Dickens' Hard Times.

Kind of Yummy Cupcakes

Last summer, my sister and I bought Martha Stewart's Cupcakes with the intent to cook our way through the book. Really it was this recipe for Boston Cream Pie cupcakes that sold me but, eight reasons why later, have only just made them. Out of the nine recipes we have tried, only one... only one... has been a to-die-for- we-must-make-those-again-right-away recipe.
They sound yummy and they look yummy but they are only kind of yummy. And the thing about these recipes is they are pretty time consuming. Don't get me wrong...I don't have a problem putting a lot of time into my cooking but the result has to be worth that time, and the expense, and the dirty dishes, and the other cleaning up.
They aren't horrible and, with company coming over, they will be eaten up but I am about ready to copy out the one winning recipe for red velvet cupcakes and give up on this cookbook.

On a positive note...after buying a humongous bag of potatoes from Costco, my husband brought home a 5 pound bag of Yukons given to him by a vendor, and needless to say, we have been eating a lot of potatoes...potato soup, potatoes with kielbasa and sauerkraut, chicken and veggies with Nan's herb potatoes. These potatoes were yummy and my family thanks her for supplying me a recipe for oven-roasted potatoes instead of creating my own:)

Happy Valentine's Day...may it be filled with lots of lovely reading!

Cold Comfort Farm Giveaway - The Winner is...

Names were thrown into a bowl this morning and the winner is...Karenlibrarian. Thank you for your comments and to those who entered:)

I am a little cut-throat when it comes to cleaning out my house as well as my bookshelves, and this pretty little number didn't pass the keep test whilst culling the volumes. It is a beautiful Folio Society copy of Stella Gibbons' classic with illustrations by Quentin Blake but I can't keep it just because it's a gem. I have tried several times to read it but can't get into the story, and I hate to see it languishing on the shelves. If you would like a chance to give it a better home, leave a comment below to throw your name into the draw that will take place Monday, February 14. (Due to the cost, this giveaway is limited to the States.)

Oliver Twist Read-along: Post One

Two years ago, I chose Oliver Twist as my initiation into the world of Dickens. I loved it then and I am loving it more the second time around because there is a distance now between me and the movie musical which so colored my first reading. I am pretty sure this distance is due to getting to know Dickens through a few of his other works. I am grateful for it; I did not want to spend this reading of OT singing 'consider yourself at home' and 'oom-pa-pa, oom-pa-pa, that's how it goes', nor experiencing the characters at the same superficial level portrayed on-screen. I do admit to singing 'consider yourself at home' but after my reading and not during...that, my friends, is progress...and the characters are so much more alive to me. I am seeing Nancy in a whole new light, just as tortured and torn as Oliver, and some characters I feel as if I am truly seeing for the first time, like Mr. Brownlow, Mrs. Bedwin and Mr. Grimwig (what a fantastic name!).

So, this is Dickens at 25, and I feel that youth in his writing, in his narrating which feels so intimate when he addresses the reader directly. He writes about this stuff that would be downright depressing on its own except he keeps it light with sarcasm and humor, and keeps it hopeful with small gestures of kindness exhibited by his characters.

He has to because he places you on this roller coaster right from the start: the death of his mother to the small kindness extended by Mrs. Thingummy, the lows of living with Mrs. Mann to the little windows of goodness displayed by Mr. Sowerberry, and currently in the throes hoping Oliver can escape the evil of Fagin and Sikes and find his way back to Mr. Brownlow. One thing that remains the same between my two readings is the suspense; I am still anxious to know what will come next.

During my reading of Little Dorrit, I pretty much loved any part that skewered bureaucracy and politics as seen through the prism of the circumlocution office. I didn't notice this so much during my first reading of OT but am definitely appreciating the chance to see it right off in the second chapter regarding "Oliver's growth, education and board". Dickens is so, so good at this. I need to start a list, Dickens on Society, so I can go back and read these passages when in need of some levity looking at today's world.

This is my first time participating in a read-along and I can't wait to share the experience with other readers. But you don't have to be a part of the read-along to share your thoughts if you have read OT in the past. Thank you to Allie for hosting this event.

Completely Empty...

...redundant, I know, but I can't spend three weeks with a book and not feel completely empty at the end. And it is hard to leave Amy Dorrit and Arthur Clennam but I have found an answer to my impulse to open to page one and begin rereading this Dickens right away. Watching the recent BBC adaptation has allowed me to stay in this world of poverty and riches and society and singular characters while moving on to the Oliver Twist readalong. I am ambivalent about the adaptation, loving it one moment and not so loving it the next, but I can't stop watching. Claire Foy and Matthew Macfayden are excellent in their roles and Eddie Marsan as Mr. Pancks (although missing the hair Dickens gave him) is stealing the show. James Fleet as Frederick Dorrit and Pam Ferris as Mrs. General are not the characters I drew in my head but I love them so much from The Vicar of Dibley and Rosemary and Thyme, respectively, I have adjusted my vision.

Little Dorrit (the book) has all the qualities I have loved from my other readings of his work but they seem magnified here. His characters are richer. His social commentary is pitch perfect satire transcending his own time period. He is at his funniest and spookiest and the settings he creates never fail in their originality. And the emptiness I feel derives from how much I came to love so many of the characters...Amy, Arthur, Frederick, Lion, Mr. Meagles, Daniel Doyce, Pancks, John Chivery, Maggy...even Tattycoram and Flora.

I have picked up the habit of rereading Susan Hill's chapter on Dickens from Howards End is on the Landing during and after reading his works. I become overwhelmed by this need to see my feelings about Dickens reinforced by her words. She writes "He is mighty." Yes! She writes "...his literary imagination was the greatest ever..." Yes! She writes "After that, it is time I went back to Little Dorrit. Is it the best? I sometimes think so." At this moment, I know so.

Is My Book Half-empty or Half-full?

Book the First is read and, with 396 pages to go, I feel my glass is half-empty and am very sad to see that I only have half left. When it comes to Dickens, Little Dorrit has been little mentioned among my readings and listenings regarding others' love for Dickens' work but I am perplexed as to why. In spite of its great length, if anyone asks me where they should start with Dickens, my answer will emphatically be Little Dorrit. It is sooo good, I am employing different ways to draw out the reading...mainly rereading genius passages (eg. the entire chapter regarding the Science of Government...hilarious because it is so true, as true now as it was then).

I was thrown off for about two seconds with the opening chapter set in a Marseilles prison but, as per my experience with Dickens, the setting is secondary...it is always the characters that get me and hold me. I finally did meet Little Dorrit, Amy being her Christian name, and she is killing me, killing me. I understand Arthur Clennam's feelings towards her because I too want to protect her, provide for her, teach her, warn her, all while knowing she will do what her heart and mind guide her to do even if it hurts her in the end.

There is quite a bit of underlying tension in this work as Dickens introduces several sinister characters who are now cooling their heels in past chapters and I am just waiting for them to spring up at some point. The tension also stems from certain characters, like Amy's father, who continue to show their true character in episodes that astound this reader.

So I move on to Book the Second rich with riches...

Although wanting to stay as long as I can in the Dorrit story, I have put some thought to what I will be reading next. Specifically those thoughts are centered on the rereadability of Dickens. I have reread A Christmas Carol and found that I liked it the second time around. The first time I was ambivalent due to reading the classic in the wee hours of Dewey's read-a-thon when I am pretty sure I was not fully conscious. I want to know if my first Dickens read can withstand a rereading and will have the added benefit of reading it with others by joining A Literary Odyssey's Oliver Twist readalong.

Snowy Notes

We had snow last night and the roads are a mess but no snow day for my oldest who let it be known how aggrieved she was. I white-knuckled my way to drop her off and didn't relax until I was safely parked inside the garage. I am a newbie when it comes to driving in the snow, so for all the experienced out there, I am the snail moving ten miles an hour that you are stuck behind. My youngest and I had a snow day of our own sledding down the steep hill in our backyard and throwing snowballs at one another finishing up with a happy face snow angel. Except for the driving, I love snow!

Moving along through Little Dorrit, I remembered a post from Thomas at My Porch about his progress through War and Peace. He created a character tree to follow events and associations. I knew I needed to do something similar because sometimes I lose or confuse characters and events when reading Dickens. Taking notes after each chapter to which I can refer seems a heck of a lot easier than digging through past pages to find the lost threads.

Where is the Main Character?

It isn't often that I get to thinking about the trustworthiness of an author. I usually have a feeling of being able to rely on an author if I consistently love their works. But Dickens makes me contemplate what it means to trust an author.

So far I have been able to trust Dickens to carry me through an epic length novel without losing my interest in the story or my investment of feeling into the characters. At this point, I can trust him to deliver a good story chock full of characters to love. Now, I know I can trust him to bring me through the first forty pages of a book in which I have yet to meet the main character.

I expect to meet the main character of a book within the first few pages and realized that after reading the first two chapters of Little Dorrit, I still hadn't met Little Dorrit. Let me tell you, I wanted to meet this chick, because after reading reviews on blogs and on amazon, I wanted nothing more than to get to know this character created by Dickens. So after waiting the few days to receive the book in the mail and setting it aside until all were tucked in bed, I began this book and found myself not in England but on the hottest day in Marseilles, and not meeting Dorrit but two of the scrungiest prisoners this side of Magwitch.

But what do I care? I am now on page 41, in London, with a promise of meeting Dorrit soon made on page 40. I am once again lost in a world of Dickens making and he can do with me as he pleases. One thing I know now is not to have any expectations, great or small, when it comes to Dickens. I should have known better to have expectations regarding Dorrit when, looking back, I have come to love the peripheral characters most...Wemmick in Great Expectations and Betsey Trotwood in David Copperfield...and now we will see with Little Dorrit.

I'm Not Afraid...

My first year blogging was all about challenges. I longed to sign up for the Chunkster Challenge but I truly was intimidated. My second year blogging I signed up for only a handful of challenges including the Chunkster but failed. I suppose it is fitting that the year I finally feel up to the challenge is the year the Chunkster Challenge will stand alone as my only reading challenge of 2011. And this year instead of cowering I am giddy with excitement to get started. The challenge begins February 1, 2011 and ends January 31, 2012, and is hosted by caribousmom.

There are four levels to the challenge and I am signing up for the Mor-book-ly Obese one which challenges me to read eight or more chunksters (defined as a book containing 450+ pages) of which 3 tomes must have 750 pages or more.

One is not required to make a list of books to be read which works good for me because I want some freedom within the confines of the challenge but I do know there will be Dickens, possibly Trollope and maybe a knight tilting at windmills.

Too Good to be True

I received a gift card for Christmas from my in-laws and headed directly to amazon to order two CDs (Perry Como and Dean Martin Christmas albums) and a book or two. I found a copy of The Best of James Herriot which was described as "Very Good Condition with Very Good Condition Dust Jacket". All that for a dollar. So I placed the order and waited all so patiently for the slowest of all postal delivery options...economy mail. The book arrived yesterday and, needless to say, the description was too good to be true. Underneath the packing slip, which clearly stated the glowing description of the book, was a book without a dust jacket covered with grime, a discolored cover, and hundreds of light brown moldy spots along the page edges. And the worst offense was the smell of mold and damp when I opened the book. I am still ticked but more than that I am befuddled over the conscience of a person who could place that book and the packing slip together and ship it off to a paying customer. Yes, it was only a dollar but how much does honesty cost?

This is me sulking...

New Year, Old Book

I wrote this post on the 2nd but couldn't decide whether or not to publish it because it felt too personal but as my thoughts are with Nan today I thought it apropos.

I began the new year with an old book. Heading out with the fam to celebrate the incoming year at my sister's, I passed up all the never-been-read books on my shelves and pulled out James Herriot's Dog Stories for a reread. Feeling the need for a comfort read, indeed. I am always a little sad after Christmas passes. It is my favorite time of year and knowing that it won't be around for 11 more months provokes a small case of melancholy. I still have the decorations up and turn on the lights as dusk ushers in the night and play the occasional Christmas cd if I can get away with it but, on New's Year eve morning, my husband took down the outside Christmas lights and I knew it was the beginning of the end. Bah! On Monday morning, my husband and eldest will return to work and school, respectively, after their holiday breaks, and the youngest and I will round up and put away the Christmas decorations. Bah again!

God, I love these stories! In Herriot's introduction, he writes about his own dogs saying "I often think of them all, of their different characters and the happiness I had with them." This is something I do as well and wonder if other dog lovers do the same. Each and every one had their own character and this amazes me still. I always run through them chronologically, in the order they came into my life, my timeline of dogs.

The first was a shephard-collie mix named Crystal. Although she later came to live with my grandparents, I still considered her mine. She was beautiful but she was a rascal which made all of us love her more. As kids we rode our Big Wheel up and down the long driveway of our grandparents' home and if you had the misfortune of Crystal standing guard over the roadway, she would run up to the Big Wheel and begin biting the huge front wheel. No matter how much you begged her to stop, she would not let go and we would abandon the toy in despair either to find another or plead with an adult to put Crystal in the backyard. She also loved to smile by bearing her front teeth while simultaneously wagging her hind end furiously. She mostly did this when she was in trouble...like the time she ripped my grandmother's clean sheets off the clothesline and dragged them through the dirt. You could try disciplining a dog while they smile up at you but it is impossible.

But the one thing I had a difficult time forgiving her for was nipping at my heels. She was so unpredictable at this pastime of hers that one never knew when to expect it. Sometimes she let you walk by without harassment and the next time she would stealthily creep up behind you and nibble your Achilles which resulted in my jumping in the air and attempting to run back inside. Only this attempt at self-preservation seemed to instigate her bad behavior further and she would keep nipping as my running turned into shuffling in an attempt to avoid kicking her. It took a while to shuffle to safety but once I had the door in between the two of us I would try to tell her how naughty she was but on came the pearly whites and all was once again forgiven.

The day Crystal passed away, my mom picked me up from my part-time job after school. I felt so grown up earning my own money and working in an office among adults but I was reduced to a little girl again as I wept openly and my mother's arms around me were as comforting as Crystal's presence always proved to be.

Merry Christmas...

...may it be one of many blessings and much happiness!

Oh the Persephone Excitement!

A package arrived amidst the chaos of shopping and crafting...one with a royal mail stamp which my oldest immediately brought to me saying "I think it's a Persephone". She now associates any package coming from the UK with Persephone. Unfortunately I was getting ready to head 'into the city' to visit family and had to set the package aside but when I got home and up to bed around 2am...

...I couldn't resist a peek and saw this...
I practiced my patience until the morning when I pulled out this little bundle...
Can anyone say you had me at Quentin Blake? Oh, yes...this is all the goody goodness awaiting me...
The adorable card revealed who my Secret Santa is...Sakura of chasing bawa, a new-to-me blog which I can't wait to get to know.
Thank you so much, Sakura. The Whipple is perfect and I can't wait to read it in the new year. And I absolutely love the bag (which my oldest has already tried to borrow:) and your card is prominently displayed on the mantle. Here's one more peek at They Were Sisters...
Thanks again to my Persephone Secret Santa, and to Claire for organizing all the fun.

A Year of Good Reading

I know it is a little early for an end of the year meme but as I only plan to do a close reread of Dickens' A Christmas Carol, with the help of an annotated version, for the rest of my reading in 2010, I thought I would go ahead and look back.

I am using a survey created by The Perpetual Page-Turner which you can link your own answers to until the beginning of January. Here goes...

1. Best Book of 2010: This is a tie for me as opposed to last year which had a clear winner. Looking back over the list of books I read during 2010 (in my sidebar), all the others seem to fall away when it comes to Dickens' Great Expectations and David Copperfield and although Dickens could pick a favorite, I can't.

2. Worst Book of 2010: Now at this point, I am getting to know myself pretty well as a reader, so pretty much every book I read in 2010 I enjoyed to some degree. So my worst book of 2010 is not based on the story itself but the god-awful editing of High Rising by Angela Thirkell. Thank goodness the story was strong enough for me to get past all the editing I had to do in my head.

3. Most Disappointing Book of 2010: Definitely goes to Miss Read's Thrush Green. Just didn't measure up to my experiences with Fairacre.

4. Most Surprising (in a good way) Book of 2010: Richard Hack's The Duchess of Death had me completely enthralled from beginning to end, and read more like a novel than non-fiction.

5. Book Recommended Most in 2010: Was actually a book I read in 2009 and recently reread...Miss Read's The Christmas Mouse.

6. Best Series You Discovered in 2010: I feel a little saying 'I discovered' because if anything I felt I came late to the game when it comes to this author's work but the best series I read this year was James Herriot's first four volumes. I am saving the last.

7. Favorite New Authors in 2010: Well new to me anyway...James Herriot, Angela Thirkell, Dorothy Whipple and Elizabeth Taylor (the other one).

8. Most Hilarious Read in 2010: Definitely goes to Herriot's All Creatures Great and Small...laugh out loud kind of hilarious.

9. Most Thrilling, Unputdownable Book of 2010: Dickens' Great Expectations was the book I would have tried to read while sleeping, driving, showering, if possible.

10. Book Most Anticipated in 2010: Dorothy Whipple's Someone at a Distance...I had received it for the Persephone Secret Santa and couldn't wait to get to it because of all the positive reviews it received from other bloggers.

11. Favorite Cover of a Book in 2010: Another tie...I just love this edition of A Christmas Carol and bought it even though I had two other editions on my shelf. And the cover of Herriot's Dog Stories makes me smile every time I see it.

12. Most Memorable Character in 2010: Wemmick from Great Expectations. My initial judgment of this character was so wrong and I came to love everything about him. He is the character I remember most fondly all these months later.

13. Most Beautifully Written Book in 2010: This one is a bit difficult as there are so many beautiful passages found within the many books I read but if I had to apply this description to a whole work, it would have to be Miss Read's Tiggy. A short work but each and every word conveyed the love the author felt toward this unexpected pet.

14. Book That Had the Greatest Impact on You in 2010: Great Expectations, for so many reasons, beginning with it becoming this measure for all the books that came before and after, and it really changed the way I look at what I read. It wasn't something I realized at first but I noticed that it became a kind of standard-bearer. This book also made me want to be a better person. There have been other books that have inspired me in a similar way but not to the degree which Great Expectations did and which David Copperfield reinforced.

15. Book You Can't Believe You Waited until 2010 to Read: David Copperfield. I always felt I should read Great Expectations but David Copperfield I could take or leave or at least save for one of the last of his books to read. So Copperfield first came across my radar how many decades ago and in 2010 I finally read it.

Last year, I read 119 books, 100 short stories and 30 essays. This year, the count will be 49 books, one of those books being a collection of essays, and no short stories that I can recall. There was definitely a difference in the way I read this year and the amount of time I spent reading. In 2011, I am looking to read more classics, more Dickens especially, and to try to read at a deeper, more intimate level.

Why Do I Feel Like a Jealous, Possessive Lover?

Oprah's latest book club pick has me feeling like a silly adolescent. On the one hand, I think it is great that Dickens will be read far and wide. On the other, immature, hand, I want to fight Oprah in a duel to prove I love him more.

Reading a blog about Oprah's pick, it said she hasn't read Dickens before. Having Jonathon Franzen on at the time of the Dickens announcement, she asked him if he had read Dickens. His answer...'yes, all of them'. Perhaps he loves Dickens the mostest:)

Hill on Dickens

From Howards End is on the Landing...

In the silly game of which authors to throw overboard from the lifeboat and which one - just one - to save, I would always save Dickens. He is mighty. His flaws are huge but magnificent - and all of a piece with the whole. A perfect, flawless Dickens would somehow be a shrunken, impoverished one. Yes, he is sentimental, yes, he has purple passages, yes, his plots sometimes have dropped stitches, yes some of his characters are quite tiresome. But his literary imagination was the greatest ever...

That is just about how I feel at this moment coming upon the last hundred pages or so of David Copperfield. And with our thermometer hovering steadily at 32/33 degrees, I am completely feeling Hill's closing words to her chapter on Dickens...

Outside my window, the trees are bare. It is early dark but a silver paring of moon is bright in the sky, with a thousand frosty stars. The air smells of cold. A fox barks from the field.

Dickens for winter.

Throw another log on the fire.

Warmest Wishes

Although an American tradition, I want to send the warmest wishes and thanks to you all. I am truly grateful for all the joy and good reading your blogs have brought into my life.

Book Strain

It took one day to read Philip Gulley's Home to Harmony. It came in at about a 200 page count which would normally take me about 3 to 4 days to read but it was a fun read and I set aside all else in order to finish it. There was an unintended consequence to enjoying such a light read: I began to crave something in the arena of a doorstop classic to balance my literary appetite. Only David Copperfield would do even though I try to save Dickens for the beginning of the year when all is quiet and winter is settled in.

When I sit down with one of Dickens' work (with the exception of A Christmas Carol), I feel like I am committing for the long haul and cross my fingers there will be little to distract me. So I had some misgivings about reading David Copperfield when my mind is full of to do lists and dates by which to ship and calculations for the hours it will take to thaw and cook a turkey. I thought 'these are exactly the type of distractions I don't want when reading Dickens'. But a hundred pages in, I realize it is the other way around... I need to worry about Dickens distracting me from getting Thanksgiving dinner on the table on time, Christmas cards in the post before Christmas eve and stockings stuffed. As usual, he has drawn me into this world that I hate to leave and can hardly wait to return to.
Another worry was this Nonesuch edition of Copperfield that I purchased and fell in love with as soon as I lifted it from the box it was delivered in. I was so in love with the richness of the paper and the perfect size font and the gorgeous illustrations that I shoved to the back of mind the little voice that asked how in the heck was I going to handle this unwieldy tome when it came time to read it. Sadly after the first go at finding a comfortable position holding this behemoth, it went back on the shelf and I drove to Barnes and Noble to buy their $8 edition which, joy of joys, contains the classic illustrations and won't contribute to any pulled muscles.

As for the distractions... thank goodness I started all my Christmas preparations early...and if I miss the important turkey dates circled heavily on the calendar I have no compunction blaming Dickens.

Home...

Today is one of those days where everything is wet and drizzly and misty and overcast...and I love it...but it has put me in a bit of a maudlin mood. To be honest, it has only exasperated this mood that has been with me for the past week which has been brought on by our house hunting and pondering what exactly 'home' means. The books I have been reading have fallen in line with this train of thought. I checked out multiple volumes on country/cottage home decor from the library. I paid a stupid amount of money for a book with one of the best titles ever (see picture below). And I reread the book that best represents 'home' to me.
My mother so kindly gifted me a subscription of Country Living and it quotes Mary Randolph Carter from her new book "A Perfectly Kept House is the Sign of a Misspent Life". The idea behind this thought appeals to me greatly as I often become bogged down in 'a place for everything and everything in its place' thinking. I crave order and do ascribe to the 'cleanliness is next to Godliness' philosophy. But this way of life is exhausting and frustration inducing when living with kids and a husband who doesn't exactly feel the same way. So lately I have been asking myself about what makes a home cozy and the type of place one wants to return to at the end of the day. I know it isn't one where the mother of the home follows you around making sure the house is in perfect order. So I guess Carter is playing the cheaper version of a therapist and reminding me to find the perfect medium between clean and cozy.
Another author helping me in this area is Miss Read. It is way too early but I had a sudden desire to reread The Christmas Mouse (my favorite read of 2009 and one I want to push on everyone to read this holiday season). Mrs. Berry understands exactly what it means to have a well-kept home that is also cozy and inviting. I didn't mean to but as soon as I finished The Christmas Mouse, I moved on directly to No Holly for Miss Quinn which I enjoyed much more the second time around. I then started a new-to-me series by Phillip Gulley. I admit that the main reason I wanted to try out this series is because there are two Christmas volumes to look forward to but there is this religious aspect that also represents the concept of home for me.

Along with the house hunting, I gained an excessive amount of nervous energy and to burn it off I began moving furniture. I rearranged my youngest's room and exchanged bookcases between floors. Room was made on the mantle for a new clock (a gift from my mother and father) and mental notes were made for changes I want to make when it comes to Christmas decoraring.
So in comes this clock just as I am so focused on thinking of home and it reminds me of all the little things that make a house a home...not just the actual structure. I spent many a weekend reading and sleeping next to my grandparents' booming grandfather clock and the Westminster chime became a symbol of home. This mantle clock isn't chiming every quarter hour but it plays every hour on the hour and it is one of the comforts of home.
And I recently added another little thing towards the neverending process of making a home...a pillow. I know it is possible to have too many pillows and I am quickly reaching that line but I tested out this pattern with a lap blanket in mind and thought that one more couldn't hurt.

So these are my mixed up, rambling thoughts on home...feel free to share your own.

Tuesday

Moving to Pennsylvania over a year ago, we decided to rent a townhouse until we knew exactly which city we wanted to settle in. For so many reasons, we have chosen to stay in the town where we currently reside and have begun the great house hunt. It feels great (by which I mean huge) because after the initial start we see what challenges we face. Although my husband and I have been married for fourteen years, we are learning exactly how vastly we differ when we discuss our 'dream home'. The good thing is we love where we live right now and feel like we have the time to find something that will fit for all of us. One thing we agree easily on is how much we love this town and I am reminded of it every day and was especially so when I went to purchase some of our fall decorations from a family farm. No one manned the stand and it operated on the honor system. The honor system? No way. Foreign concept around the parts that I come from. But here, it is common practice and one of the many reasons I fell in love with this place.
Fall decorating has been taking place indoors as well and as much as I love putting out the decorations and enjoying them for the duration, I loathe cleaning them up. Ah well, it is worth the hassle.

I am still in Herriot country. I completed the biography written by his son and it is absolutely perfect. A must read for those who read Herriott. I have moved onto the fourth book in his series, The Lord God Made Them All, and while the episodes feel a bit disconnected, I like this view into his life as a father and am enjoying his adventures abroad as he oversees the delivery of livestock from England to other countries.

I am finishing up my last Christmas projects which makes me very happy. I can finish up the shopping next and then move onto a project for our foyer that I have been wanting to start using the same colors above and adding a brown. It took me ages to decide on this color scheme while in the yarn shop and was still iffy once I started but I like it so much I am going to use it to make our foyer a little more welcoming.

The weather has finally turned and I am all so happy. The flannel sheets and fleece blanket have made an appearance, and this morning I finally switched on the heater.
But I did brave the cold first thing this morning to vote and rewarded myself with a gingerbread latte. The cups are here!

Happy Tuesday!

Persephone Secret Santa 2010

Oh, yes...I am hoping for another white Christmas but dreaming, once again, of a grey Christmas. The absolutely wonderful Claire at Paperback Reader is taking over and I cannot waste another second...I must go sign up now. Will you join in the merriment with me?

Life Gets Crazy...

...which is of course so true it is a cliche but life also goes on in spite of the craziness. So as we are in the process of helping my sister move, I still sneak in a bit of reading and crocheting, and the mail still comes in.

I finished All Things Wise and Wonderful last night. As I turned the last page and looked at my shelf, I realized I have only two books left in the series. I don't want to read anything but Herriot at the moment and at the same time I don't want to take one step closer to the end. My only consolation is how much joy I am getting out of rereading some of the same stories that were included in Dog Stories and Cat Stories which means Herriot will be just as enjoyable the second (or third) time around.

I was a little hesitant when I began All Things Wise and Wonderful because I knew it focused on his time spent in the RAF during WWII. I read Herriot for his animal stories and knew I was not in the mood for war stories but he did a genius job of using small portraits of his service time as introductions to anecdotal flashbacks to his vet work with only a few chapters fully focusing on the war. My favorite story being the one when he volunteers for harvest work on a farm instead of digging a trench and as the days unfold he and the farmer learn quite a bit from one another about the very different yet similar lives they lead. Very touching stuff.

I think I have three favorite moments when working on a project...the beginning, the end, and the moment when I see the light at the end of the tunnel. That moment happened this morning as I finished the second to last panel and looked at my diminished piles of squares and realized they were the last. After I assemble that last panel and attach it, all I have left is the border and then I am done...yea!
Looking at that last pile, I realized I had made about 10 too many squares and decided to stitch some together and do a test border to see if I would like it. But why waste it as a test, I thought, and attached the flower tassel to make a bookmark. It is so bulky, I think the only kind of book it will work in is a softcover bible, and that will accompany the scarf perfectly for the person I have in mind whose Christmas tree these gifts will be under.
As far as the mail, I had a package from England containing my own copy of The Real James Herriot which I borrowed from the library and partially read earlier this year. I am so excited to add it to my own library and plan on reading/rereading it after the series.

Having a lovely, if crazy, day...and hope you are too (not the crazy part:).

RAT: The Final Update

Well this is how I spent the final hour of the read-a-thon...not the 24th hour, mind you, but my final hour which would have been around the 15th hour...reading Herriot and drinking a dark cherry hot chocolate. It was bliss and then I was blissfully tired and then I found blissful sleep, for the next ten hours. I had the best intentions of getting up early to be a part of the last few hours but didn't quite make it. All in all, I think this was the most relaxed read-a-thon I have had. I took many breaks, visited other participants and took part in some of the mini-challenges, read many different things, slept when needed, and ended on the happy note of Herriot once again coming under the spell of Granville Bennett (or is it under the spell of the drink, maybe both). So thank you to the awesome organizers, the cheerleaders and those who read along with me. What a grand time!