Unraveled Wednesday: 9/23/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today with a dish towel finish, but I'm still plugging away on the last one.

I finished the Hurdle stitch towel and it has joined the growing pile of gift towels that sits on the arm of my knitting chair. It just makes me happy to see them. This was definitely my favorite pattern and I'll be knitting one or two of these for myself later.

I'm still knitting on the last purple Nested Squares towel. It seems like I'm always making (and then fixing) seed stitch mistakes. Whenever this happens, I tell myself that I'm stretching my brain and possibly preventing dementia, but it's still not a fun pattern for me, and this dark purple yarn I chose doesn't help at all. 

 

 

But I do want to finish it before I start working on Justin's hat, otherwise it may never get done.  

What are you making on this penultimate Wednesday in September? 

Ravelry links:

Cilantro Tea Towel  

Nested Squares Kitchen Towel 

 

Read With Us: Off the Shelf

Hello, and welcome to our latest Read With Us spin-off!

During the last Zoom call that Kym, Carole, and I had to discuss our next books, Kym came up with yet another great idea. Off the Shelf is a place where we’ll talk about why a particular book has earned a spot on our personal library shelves.

We’ve decided to throw caution to the wind and not create a schedule for this one. Instead, you can look for an Off the Shelf post on random Mondays. There may be Mondays when all three of us post, Mondays when none of us post, and every possible combination in between. In other words, there are no rules (which seems very Read With Us)!

My library at home consists mainly of a three-shelf bookcase filled with books I’ve saved over the years. The top shelf has all the Harry Potter books, the middle shelf holds poetry and some of my special fiction, and the bottom shelf is mainly children’s books that I can’t bear to part with. The book I want to tell you about today is from the middle shelf, and it’s the one I thought of as soon as Kym mentioned her idea.

 

 

Early Candlelight Stories, published in 1922, belonged to my grandmother when she was a child. She kept it in the room where I stayed whenever I visited her. The book opens with a grandmother arriving to spend the winter with her grandchildren, Bobby, Alice, and Pink. As the children gather around her in the evenings, Grandma shares nostalgic stories about her own childhood, family life, childhood adventures, and small-town community, all accompanied by charming illustrations. All I have to do is pick it up, and I’m transported back to the warm feelings the book has always brought me.

I used to read several of the stories each night when I was staying with my grandmother. I don’t read it much anymore because the binding is falling apart and a few pages are coming loose. I’ve looked for replacement copies and have found some reprinted versions since the book is in the public domain, but they just aren’t the same.

So I’m content to keep my old, falling-apart book just as it is. It’s still in good enough shape to hold all the lovely memories I have. Its pages may be loose, but its place on my shelf is secure. 

Books on Thursday

This week was a nonfiction week for me. One was sad but highly educational and informative and the second one was an exceptional recommendation from Kat. 

 

After reading Robert Kolker's Hidden Valley Road, I was eager to pick up The Vanishing Family. His previous exploration of a family devastated by inherited schizophrenia was both compassionate and fascinating, so a book about another family confronting a devastating genetic legacy immediately caught my attention.

This time Kolker turns his focus to frontotemporal dementia (FTD), following a Pennsylvania family over decades as sibling after sibling faces the possibility and the reality of inheriting a rare genetic mutation. What makes the story so heartbreaking is that the disease often strikes people in the prime of their lives, fundamentally altering their personalities long before their memories disappear. Watching family members struggle to understand what is happening, while living under the constant shadow of a 50/50 chance of developing the disease themselves, creates an almost unbearable sense of tension.

Kolker has a remarkable gift for explaining complicated medical research without losing sight of the people at the center of the story. The science is fascinating, but it never overshadows the emotional weight of the family's experience. Their resilience, grief, disagreements, and determination to contribute to research make them feel like people you come to know rather than simply subjects of a case study.

While the book is deeply moving, I occasionally found myself wishing for a slightly tighter narrative. The scientific discoveries and the many family members can sometimes make the story feel repetitive, especially in the middle sections. Even so, Kolker's empathy for his subjects and his skill as a storyteller kept me engaged throughout.

This is an engrossing blend of medical mystery, family history, and human resilience. Like Hidden Valley Road, it reminds us that behind every scientific breakthrough are real people whose willingness to share their stories may ultimately change countless lives.

Thank you to NetGalley and Doubleday for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be publsihed on September 29, 2026.

On Witness and Respair is a deeply moving collection of essays that feels both intimate and expansive. Jesmyn Ward writes about family, grief, motherhood, race, literature, and the experience of being a writer with the same lyrical intensity that makes her fiction so powerful. There’s a real sense throughout that she is trying to understand how we carry the people and experiences that have shaped us, and how we keep going after loss.

The essays about literature were some of my favorites, particularly Ward’s reflections on Toni Morrison, Richard Wright, and Octavia Butler. I loved seeing how these writers became part of her intellectual and emotional landscape, and how she connects their work to her own life and writing. Her thoughts on what fiction can do and why stories matter also made this feel like a fascinating glimpse into her creative mind.

The titular essay, “On Witness and Respair,” is especially heartbreaking. Ward writes about the sudden death of her partner with tremendous honesty and restraint, capturing both the enormity of grief and the strange, disorienting experience of trying to live alongside it. The book’s idea of “respair”, hope that persists despite everything, is what ultimately stayed with me.

I’ve seen other reviewers mention that they found the essays repetitive, but I didn’t experience them that way. There are certainly recurring themes and ideas, but I appreciated that repetition as part of the collection’s coherence. Ward keeps circling back to family, literature, loss, and resilience from different angles, and each return felt like another layer rather than simply saying the same thing again.

Not every essay resonated with me equally, which is why I landed at four stars rather than five, but there is so much beauty and thoughtfulness here. Ward’s prose is as haunting and gorgeous as ever, and this collection left me thinking about the relationship between grief and hope, and about the stories we inherit and the ones we choose to tell. Thanks for the recommendation, Kat! 

Now I'd like to know what you are reading! 

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 9/16/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today. And guess what; I'm still knitting dishtowels! I'm almost finished with the hurdle stitch one, just a couple more inches to go. I thought I might get it completed yesterday, but Ryan and I ended up talking too much and I had to tink back four rows where I made a mistake. The conversation with my son was well worth a bit of tinking and reknitting. 

I still have a dark purple nested squares towel in progress that I need to get back to after I finish this cream one. Then I think I am done with Christmas gift towels.  I want to return to Justin's hat; there's just one badger left to stitch and then the hat will be complete. The weather is finally cool enough that my fingers don't get sticky stitching with wool yarn. But I still might need to make myself a dish towel now that I know which ones are my favorites. 

What are you making this Wednesday in September? 

Ravelry links:

Cilantro Tea Towel 

 

Read With Us: Time for a Discussion!

Today is the discussion day for our Read With Us summer book, John of John by Douglas Stuart. 

 

Kym, Carole, and I are each posting a discussion question or two on our blogs today, and you are welcome to respond in the comments. I would also encourage you to reply to others' comments if you choose.  This is a book discussion, after all, so there are no correct answers or right opinions. I'm really looking forward to discussing this book. I raced through it the first time I read it, and then read it a second time where I discovered many things I had missed or forgotten. I think this discussion will be valuable for me, and I hope for others of you as well.

John of John seems especially well-suited to discussion because it raises questions about family, identity, love, and the complicated ways we inherit both strengths and wounds from the people who came before us. Here is my question: The novel is full of things people cannot or will not say. What secrets and silences seemed most important to you? How does Stuart use what the characters don't say to create tension?

I'll be glad to share my thoughts about our questions tonight during our Zoom discussion. These questions on our blogs and the Zoom discussion are your chance to express your ideas. So what do you think? I can't wait to hear your thoughts! (And I'm counting on our discussion to give me fresh perspectives in my own thinking about this unique novel.)

The in-person Zoom discussion will be at 7:00 pm Eastern this evening. If you haven't RSVP'd to Kym already you can send me an email (the email address is in the upper right) and I will make sure you get an invitation with the Zoom link. I think this is my favorite Douglas Stuart novel so far, and one that is also very discussable, so I hope you're able to attend the discussion tonight!

   

Books on Thursday

I read a few books over the past few weeks; two were pretty good, but I was less than enamored with the third one.

Little Princesses is a fascinating glimpse into the childhood of Queen Elizabeth II and Princess Margaret, told by the woman who spent sixteen years as their governess. Marion Crawford, or “Crawfie” as Elizabeth called her, gives us a very different picture of royal life than the polished public image we usually see.

What I enjoyed most was the glimpse of the girls as children rather than as future monarch and princess. Elizabeth comes across as serious, conscientious, and remarkably self-disciplined even at a young age, while Margaret is more mischievous, spirited, and demanding of attention. Crawford clearly loved both girls, and some of the most enjoyable passages describe their everyday activities, like swimming, Girl Guides, outings, vacations, and even riding the Underground. She made a conscious effort to give them experiences outside the sheltered world of royalty.

The book is also particularly interesting as a historical document. Crawford was writing shortly after the upheaval of Edward VIII's abdication, when Elizabeth's unexpected position as heir had transformed the family's life. We see the transition from a relatively quiet family existence to life at Buckingham Palace, and eventually the arrival of Charles. There is plenty of detail about the routines and expectations of royal life that I found entertaining.

That said, the book is somewhat uneven. Crawford's perspective is understandably limited, and she sometimes spends a lot of time on the minutiae of daily life without providing much broader reflection. Knowing what happened to Crawford after publication (that the Queen Mother apparently never forgave her for writing the book) also gives the memoir a rather sad undertone. Crawford obviously regarded her years with the family as an important and loving part of her life, so the eventual estrangement feels particularly poignant.

I also found myself wishing for more insight into the adults and the complicated dynamics within the royal family. Crawford was close to the Queen Mother, but she remains somewhat guarded about certain subjects, and there are moments when I wanted to know more than she was willing or able to tell. 

Little Princesses is worth reading for anyone interested in the British royal family or twentieth-century history. It feels less like a sensational royal tell-all than an affectionate, sometimes nostalgic account of two little girls growing up in an increasingly extraordinary set of circumstances. The historical context and the opportunity to see Elizabeth and Margaret as ordinary children make this an enjoyable memoir. Three and a half stars rounded up. 

 

I liked The Art of Racing in the Rain, although I think I may have enjoyed the movie just a little more than the book (which is not something I say very often).

The story is told from the perspective of Enzo, a dog who is convinced that he has the soul of a human and is waiting for his next life. Through Enzo’s eyes, we follow his owner, Denny, an aspiring race car driver, through love, marriage, parenthood, heartbreak, and some truly heartbreaking challenges. There’s plenty here about racing, but ultimately this is a story about loyalty, family, perseverance, and making the most of the time we’re given.

I think part of the problem for me is that I saw the movie first. Once I had Kevin Costner’s voice in my head as Enzo, it was hard to imagine the character any other way. Costner’s narration gave Enzo a warmth and personality that I found especially appealing. The movie also made a few changes to the story that, in my opinion, actually improved it, particularly the way the situation involving the charge against Denny was handled. I found that version more emotionally satisfying, and the ending was absolutely perfect.

The book certainly has its touching moments, and Enzo is an appealing narrator, but some of the sentimentality worked a little better for me on screen. Maybe if I had read the book first, I would feel differently. This is one of those rare cases where I think the movie edges out the book, but I’m still glad I read it. Three and a half stars, and I wonder why I have mistakenly thought this book was about running in the rain for 18 years. 

 

I understand the idea at the heart of Good Joy, Bad Joy: older women can feel invisible, and after spending a lifetime being the responsible wife, mother, and community member, Joy wants to find out what it might feel like to put herself first. I actually liked that premise and initially had some warm feelings toward Joy.

Unfortunately, I had a hard time getting behind the way she went about reclaiming her sense of freedom. Her first few attempts at breaking the rules seemed relatively harmless and even fun. But as her behavior escalated, Joy begins committing actual crimes, like pulling a fire alarm and speeding, for example, simply because she wants to feel that she's living more boldly. To me, this felt less like liberation or courage and more like immaturity and pettiness. I kept wishing that Joy's rebellion had led her toward something more meaningful than simply doing things she knew she shouldn't do.

I also found myself questioning some of the book's attempts at humor. The premise has plenty of potential for both humor and emotional depth, but the more Joy's antics escalated, the less I connected with her. The friendship between Joy and Hazel was much more appealing to me, and I appreciated the book's exploration of aging, friendship, regret, and the desire to make the most of the time we have left.

Interestingly, I realized that some of my initial affection for Joy may have been coming from the audiobook narration rather than the character herself. Maggi-Meg Reed narrates Joy, and she also narrated Sibyl's voice in The Correspondent, a book I loved. Hearing her voice brought back those positive associations and probably made me more predisposed to like Joy than I otherwise would have been.

There are some worthwhile ideas here about aging, invisibility, friendship, and giving ourselves permission to change. I just didn't find Joy's particular journey toward "Bad Joy" as charming or empowering as I think the author intended. Two and a half stars. 

Now I'd love to know what you're reading! 

Unraveled Wednesday: 9/9/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today with a finished dish towel and a new one in progress. 

I finished the Nested Squares towel in sagebrush CotLin, so it joins the stack of other towels. 

 

I can't recall how I came across this next pattern, but I liked the stitch it is knit in. It reminded me of waffle stitch, but it's a simple four-row repeat called hurdle stitch. I've been knitting for well over 50 years but this was new to me. This old dog is happy to learn new tricks, especially if they are ones that she can master easily.

 

The original pattern had a seed stitch border but I needed a break from seed stitch, so I elected not to do that. I liked the stockinette band from the first towels I knit, so that's what I did here. I'm about halfway done and hope to finish this up soonish. 

 

 

I've also got a deep purple towel started in the Nested Squares pattern, and I might need to knit a couple dish towels for Jess for Christmas. I also wouldn't mind a couple towels for myself, and the weather is cooling down so I should also get back to Justin's hat. Then there is the Saltwater Bandana from Purl Soho that I've been waiting to cast on. Plenty of projects for the foreseeable future!

What are you making this Wednesday in September? 

Ravelry links:

Nested Squares Kitchen Towel 

Cilantro Tea Towel