Sometimes Monday ...

... you are lucky enough to have a couple of early Christmas cactus blossoms, 

along with a bunch of buds waiting to burst forth with more color. 

I hope your week is off to a beautiful start! 

Some Books I Read This Week

I read four books this week so I'll share my thoughts here with you. The two average ones are up first. 

Kat read this book and it sounded interesting. It was, but it was also just three stars for me. A Biography of a Mountain by Matthew Davis is an ambitious, researched look at the complicated story of Mount Rushmore, its creation, meaning, and legacy. Davis traces the land’s origins as sacred ground for Native tribes, the expansion of the American West, and the monumental (and controversial) work of sculptor Gutzon Borglum. The book also connects the site’s history to modern movements like Land Back and ongoing debates about how America memorializes its past.

While I think Mr. Davis tried to be somewhat evenhanded in presenting both the United States National Park perspective and that of Native Americans, but for me he was not completely successful. I came away with too many personal stories, too much history told in a rather dull, textbook-like way, and not enough from the Native American side of the story. For a book that sets out to center those voices, their presence often felt secondary.

Still, I appreciated Davis’s effort to grapple with such a difficult subject and his willingness to confront the political and moral complexities of the monument. A Biography of a Mountain is a thoughtful, if uneven, read that may appeal most to history buffs and those curious about how a single mountain can embody so many layers of the American story.

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin's Press for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on November 11, 2025. 

I’ve read John Grisham since his early days, when his legal thrillers were taut, fast-paced, and nearly impossible to put down. Unfortunately, The Widow didn’t have that same energy for me. The setup, a small-town lawyer whose new client turns out to be more than she appears, had some promise, but the story moved at a sluggish pace and often meandered through subplots that didn’t add much tension or urgency.

Simon Latch is an interesting enough protagonist, and the premise of being wrongly accused should have made for a sharp, suspenseful read. Instead, the narrative felt underwhelming, more reflective and procedural than thrilling. Grisham’s writing is still smooth and readable, but the spark that once made his courtroom dramas so gripping just wasn’t here. 

All in all, The Widow was an average read, but not the kind of tightly wound legal thriller I used to read Grisham for. This one was also a three star read. 

Written in Bone is a fascinating, sometimes unsettling exploration of what our skeletons can reveal about our lives and our deaths. Forensic anthropologist Sue Black draws on her long career working with the dead to explain, bone by bone, how each part of the human body tells a story. From the skull to the toes, she shows how age, trauma, disease, and even personality can leave physical traces behind.

What I appreciated most was Black’s deep respect for the human body and humans themselves. Her passion for her work shines through every chapter, and her quiet sense of humor often balances the darker material. The book is strongest when she combines case studies with personal reflections; those sections feel human and heartfelt rather than purely clinical. Sometimes the case studies are difficult to read, like the identification of fire victims and what can happen to bone in a fire, but it's still interesting and worth reading.

That said, this book isn’t always an easy read. The tone can shift abruptly from deeply moving to very technical, and some sections bog down in dense anatomical detail. Readers looking for a true-crime style narrative may be disappointed as this is more a textbook-with-heart than a thriller.

Overall, Written in Bone is intelligent, compassionate, and informative, though sometimes uneven in pacing and tone. I learned a great deal about both the science of bones and the humanity behind them. Three and a half stars, rounded up. 

 

 

Life: A Love Story by Elizabeth Berg is a beautiful, deeply human novel that glows with warmth and quiet wisdom. It’s the kind of book that makes you pause, smile, and feel grateful for ordinary moments, like the smell of coffee, a favorite comfortable chair, the light through a window. Berg has always written with a sensitivity to everyday life, and here she captures it perfectly through the voice of Florence “Flo” Greene, a woman looking back with honesty and ahead with grace.

Flo decides to leave behind not only her house but also a written legacy for Ruthie, the neighbor girl who grew up next door and remains like a daughter to her. What unfolds is part memoir, part letter, and part gentle nudge to keep living fully, no matter one’s age. Through her reflections and even her meddling in the lives of friends and neighbors, Flo becomes a vibrant force for connection, reminding us that love, in all its forms, is both fragile and enduring.

What I especially appreciated is that this is a profoundly positive and hopeful novel, but never saccharine. Berg’s prose is luminous yet grounded; she never glosses over loss or regret, but instead lets them coexist with humor, affection, and renewal. There’s real emotional honesty in the way Flo reveals her long-buried secret about her marriage, and in how she reaches out to others even as she’s preparing to say goodbye.

Reading this felt like sitting down with an old friend who tells the truth but still leaves you feeling lighter and more open to the world. I think Berg must have a compassionate spirit and it certainly comes through in her writing.

Thank to NetGalley and Random House for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on March 17, 2026. (I'm sorry that you have to wait five long months for the publication of this novel!)

I hope you've got something good to read this weekend!

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 10/29/25

I’m happily joining Kat and the Unravelers today, with a completed Rainbow Scarf for Ryan and the beginnings of what will hopefully be a pair of socks for Justin. I took the scarf along when I visited Ryan on Monday, asked him to make sure he tried it on for length before I left, and then we both forgot. It's a bit longer than six feet, but I left it on the needle so I can easily take out a few inches if he thinks it's too long. I'll post a proper picture when it's done/approved and bound off. 

I did get the yarn for Justin's slippers, but I've also gone off on a bit of a tangent. I didn't think that I wanted to make socks for him because he has such big feet. But what I didn't want to do was knit socks with fingering weight yarn. He wears boots almost every day which means he is usually wearing boot socks. I spent quite a while looking for worsted weight yarn with nylon, and found that Briggs & Little makes some they call Tuffy. Sometimes it's classified as aran weight, but whatever the weight, it is nice, thick, woolly, yarn. Of course, it comes from Canada and that means tariffs, but nobody seemed to know quite what that would add to the cost. The yarn is priced quite reasonably at $7.00 Canadian ($5.00 US) for 215 yds., but I was hesitant to order, not knowing what the real cost would be. So I looked on etsy, found a bunch in various colors, and cast on some socks. 

I ended up casting on three times times because each attempt looked too small. I've finally settled on a 48 stitch sock. This is certainly doable so I'm going to keep knitting and hopefully end up with a pair of wearable and warm socks. I still intend to knit the slippers, probably Wychwood or maybe Thick Bootie Slippers (both are Ravelry links) but I haven't cast on yet. 

 

 

I finished four books this week, so I'll save my reviews for Friday.

What are you making and reading this week? 

 

I'm Lucky

I consider myself lucky for lots of reasons, but today it’s because I have a kid who cooks really good food for me. Ryan enjoys being in the kitchen, and since John’s garden happens to be at Ryan’s house, we usually head over there once a week. While John checks the garden, Ryan makes us lunch. (Our soil here in New Jersey has untreatable verticillium wilt that makes it unsuited for a garden here and is also slowly killing our trees, but that’s a sad story for another day.)

We used to go out to diners, but no matter what we ordered, Ryan would usually say he could make it better. (And honestly, he’s right.) These days he often asks if there’s anything we’re hungry for, and I usually tell him it’s chef’s choice - whatever he feels like making is fine with me. He’s made us omelets, egg salad, grilled cheese, macaroni and cheese, hamburgers, sausage corn chowder, “supper on a bread slice” (a dish my mother used to make, but Ryan’s version is much improved), and his absolutely stellar onion soup gratinée.

Last week I was grumbling about a disappointing canned clam chowder I’d tried, and Ryan offered to make some from scratch. He watched Jacques Pépin (I’m not sure clam chowder really needs leeks or corn like Jacques adds) and then checked out a few more videos on youtube. He decided the method was similar to sausage corn chowder, just with clams and clam juice instead. So that’s what I was served for lunch yesterday, along with Ryan's special cheese toast. 

And of course, it was fantastic! I've never had homemade clam chowder before, and it turns out the canned stuff doesn’t even come close. Ryan’s version had onions, garlic, celery, potatoes, butter, half-and-half, bacon, clams, clam juice, chives, parsley, a little hot sauce, and plenty of seasoning. I'm not sure whether this is my favorite or if his onion soup wins, but I will take either one of them any time he is willing to make them.

And one of the best parts?

Ryan sent me home with the leftovers. I am, without a doubt, very lucky.

 

Banned Books

Every year when my library puts up its Banned Books display, I can’t resist spending a little extra time browsing. There’s something both funny and thought-provoking about seeing which titles have landed on that list, and, in many cases, why.

This year, a few of the choices made me laugh out loud. Right there among the “dangerous” and “controversial” works were Bad Kitty and Captain Underpants. Really? Those mischievous cats and underwear-clad superheroes are what we’re worried about corrupting young minds?

When my sons were growing up in the 1990s, Captain Underpants books were a fixture in our household. They made the boys laugh, and, truth be told, they made me laugh, too. The idea that they’re banned for “offensive language,” being “unsuited for their age group,” or “encouraging disruptive behavior” is almost too funny to me. My kids were perfectly capable of coming up with their own disruptive behavior without any help from a cartoon character in his underwear.

As for Bad Kitty, it turns out some of the books have been challenged because they include a lesbian couple and use symbolic expletives (those cartoon-style symbols like @#$%! that suggest a swear word without actually saying one). Hardly scandalous, in my opinion, and certainly not something worth banning.

I ended up checking out two books from the display that I’d read before: Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. I had to look up why they’d been banned or challenged, too, themes of witchcraft, madness, and repressed sexuality for the first, and profanity and atheism for the second. It made me realize how easily books can be misunderstood or reduced to a single “offensive” element, when what they actually offer is depth, empathy, and perspective.

 

 

I completely support the idea that parents should decide what they feel is appropriate for their own children. That’s a personal and important responsibility. But I draw the line when someone tries to make that decision for everyone else’s children, too. One family’s comfort zone shouldn’t define another’s reading list.

Banned Books Week (it was October 5 -11 this year) is a good reminder of why libraries matter so much; they should be able to offer everyone the freedom to explore ideas, to question, to laugh, and to learn. Standing in front of that display each year, I’m grateful for the librarians who work hard to ensure those stories stay on the shelves, waiting for curious readers to discover them all over again. Checking out the books that make people uncomfortable are often the ones most worth reading.

Unraveled Wednesday: 10/22/25

I’m happily joining Kat and the Unravelers today, with what I hope is almost the end of the rainbow scarf.

I haven't yet tired of knitting rainbows but I do want to finish the scarf so I'm ready to start Justin's Christmas present. He's a little more difficult to knit for but I had what I hope might be a good idea - slippers. I've made him a gazillion hats and he wears size 13 boots, so socks are quite an undertaking. I found a slipper pattern that I think will work and have even ordered yarn that will be here later this week. If Justin ends up not wearing them, maybe Nugget and the kitten can sleep in them. 

I read several books this week but I'm saving a couple of them for a post I have planned for Friday. In the meantime, here is a slightly strange yet interesting book that I also read. Life, and Death, and Giants by Ron Rindo is one of those quietly unusual novels that sneaks up on you with its tenderness. I picked it up from my library’s shelves without quite knowing what to expect, and I ended up genuinely touched by its mix of fable-like wonder and small-town realism.

The story follows Gabriel Fisher, an orphan born extraordinarily large (eighteen pounds and twenty-seven inches at birth) whose life unfolds somewhere between myth and Midwest. Raised first by an older brother and later by strict Amish grandparents who try to hide him from the world, Gabriel’s journey is both physically and spiritually outsized. When a high school coach discovers him working in the fields, his secret life bursts into the open, setting off a series of events that test faith, love, and community.

Rindo writes beautifully about rural Wisconsin and the complex, sometimes claustrophobic ties of family and belief. There’s a quiet moral weight to the story, a sense that kindness and cruelty coexist in the same hearts. I especially appreciated how the novel balanced magical realism with grounded emotional truth.

That said, the pacing felt uneven at times, and a few plot turns veered toward the sentimental or predictable. Still, Gabriel himself is such a memorable character, both gentle and formidable, that I found myself thinking about him long after finishing.

A strange, heartfelt, and reflective novel about belonging and difference, Life, and Death, and Giants earns 3.5 stars from me. It may not be perfect, but it certainly has heart.

 

What are you making and reading this week?

 

Sometimes Monday ...

... you start out reorganizing the freezer and somehow end up baking a cake. It was one of those “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” kind of days, but with a very happy ending.

We have three chest freezers, mostly because we freeze a lot of garden produce, and both John and Justin hunt. Every fall, I have to clean them out and reorganize things so I can actually find (and use) what’s inside. I finished one freezer and had just started on the second when I discovered a bag of cranberries I’d frozen, probably last Thanksgiving. I moved them to the fridge to thaw, and then thought about them every time I opened the door.

At first, I considered making cranberry-orange bread, but since I didn’t have any oranges, and wasn’t in the mood for a grocery run, I started thinking about Nantucket Cranberry Pie instead. I went to look for the recipe but couldn’t find it in my box. I was pretty sure it was by Laurie Colwin, so I pulled out Home Cooking and More Home Cooking.

Of course, that led to taking all the cookbooks off the shelf, dusting, vacuuming, and then spending a lovely afternoon reading through Laurie Colwin’s essays (which, honestly, was half the fun). Eventually, I did find the recipe in More Home Cooking.

And since it made such a satisfying bake, I thought I’d share it here as both “blog fodder” and a handy place to keep the recipe for next time.

Here’s Laurie’s recipe, in case you’d like to try it, too:

Nantucket Cranberry Pie

1. Chop enough cranberries to make 2 cups and enough walnuts to make 1/2 cup.

2. In the bottom of a 10-inch pie plate or springform pan, place chopped cranberries, chopped walnuts, and 1/2 cup of sugar.

3. Mix 2 large eggs, 3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) melted and cooled butter, 1 cup sugar, 1 cup flour, 1/4 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon almond extract. Stir till smooth.

 

4. Pour over cranberry-walnut mixture and bake for 40 minutes at 350 F.

 

I didn't have any walnuts so I added an extra 1/2 cup of cranberries. I used 1 teaspoon vanilla extract and 1/4 teaspoon almond extract, just because I like vanilla better than almond. I don't know why it's called "Nantucket Cranberry Pie" when it clearly makes a cake, but it's delicious no matter what you call it. The cake does have a lot of butter and sugar, but I think I will decrease the sugar sprinkled on the cranberries to 1/3 cup or slightly less the next time I make it. After cleaning out freezers I felt like I deserved something good. 

 

I hope your week is off to a good start and includes some kind of treat!