Unraveled Wednesday: 12/24/25

I’m happily joining Kat and the Unravelers on Christmas Eve, with all of my Christmas gift knitting completed, and some mittens for me in progress. The last thing I had to finish was a hat for John. I hope it's acceptable to him and that it's "warm but not too tight" so he will wear something besides the Bankhead hat I knit for him four years ago. 

The gifts are all bagged and ready, including some catnip toys I sewed for my Grandcats.

 

I'm knitting The World's Simplest Mittens for myself and enjoying them so far. I've got enough Malabrigo left over from John's hat and Justin's slippers that I might even make some mis-matched Frankenmittens to use it up. But I'm also hearing my Hitchhikers calling to me, so they'll soon be back in my knitting rotation. 

 

 

I reread some L.M. Montgomery short Christmas stories  but they were just some Christmas-flavored filler so I won't comment here. I also finally finished The Antidote for our Read With Us discussion in January, but I'll save my thoughts for that. I did read a decidedly non-Christmas related book, 99 Ways to Die: And How to Avoid Them. It's a darkly funny, fast-paced tour through the many alarming ways the human body can fail and how to avoid becoming an ER cautionary tale. Written by an emergency medicine physician who has truly seen it all, this book blends gallows humor, practical safety advice, and just enough medical detail to be both informative and unsettling.

Each short chapter focuses on a specific danger, ranging from the bizarre to the painfully ordinary, and is anchored by patient stories or professional anecdotes. Alker has a knack for making serious material accessible: she explains complex medical risks clearly, keeps the tone light without being flippant, and often manages to make you laugh just as you’re realizing you may never look at everyday activities the same way again.

That said, the sheer volume of scenarios can feel repetitive over time, and some entries are more compelling than others. Readers looking for deep dives into physiology or systemic medical issues may find the treatment a bit surface-level, while anxious readers might want to pace themselves. The episodic structure makes it easy to dip in and out, but it doesn’t always build momentum.

Still, 99 Ways to Die succeeds at what it sets out to do: entertain, educate, and make you just a little more aware of how fragile, and also surprisingly resilient, the human body can be. It’s an enjoyable, eye-opening read for fans of popular medical nonfiction and anyone with a strong sense of humor about mortality.

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin's Press for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on January 13, 2026.

I hope you are enjoying a lovely and peaceful Christmas season, love and light if you celebrated Hanukkah, or a very pleasant Wednesday if that's what today is for you. I'll be back next week with a few year-end posts about making and reading. 

What are you making and reading this week?