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The book is also particularly interesting as a historical document.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 

Bits and Pieces: September 2026

 

Hello! I had originally planned to be away last week, visiting John's oldest sister and her husband in northern PA, but then we unfortunately had two deaths in the family, so the travel plans got cancelled. I was busy so I took a little blog break, but I'm back now. A Bits and Pieces post seems like a good way to get back to blogging. 

• The photos in this post don't have anything to do with the written bits. They are just pictures from a file I keep called "Errant Photos". Some of them are from mistakes I've made while trying to take pictures, but I have no idea what the others are. I do think they're too interesting to delete, so I'm glad to have a chance to use them. 

• John and I have friends that we meet for dinner once every month or so. The wife of the couple (let's call her Jean since that's her name) has recently started knitting with her church group. They give bibs and a baby blanket to every child that gets baptized and Jean says they are running pretty far behind. She recently got promoted from bibs to knitting blankets and was pleased with that, but she said she had made a mistake and could I please, please, please see if I could fix it? I took a look and she had just slipped two stitches instead of knitting them. It was about a 30 second fix to tink back and knit the stitches so she could get back to knitting, but Jean was absolutely thrilled. I told her to call me any time, she thanked me profusely, gave me a jar of her homemade salsa, and has continued to text her thanks. I tried to show her what I did so she could maybe do it in the future but she's not quite ready for that. I felt a bit like a superstar even though I know I didn't do anything, but I am glad Jean was so happy and could get back to her knitting. 

• I'm officially looking for a new-to-me car. I'm currently driving a 2012 Subaru Forester with a minimum of bells and whistles, which is what I prefer. It even has a real key instead of a push button to start it, and it works well for the minimal driving I do (which is basically to the grocery store, and Ryan's and Justin's houses). But we've needed to invest $2900 in it in the last two weeks to repair a power steering line leak and the lower control arms. (I don't really know what they are or what they do, but I'd hate to be out of control.) I've looked around a bit online and my in-person visit to the local Subaru dealer was enough to make me want to keep my car. A used Subaru that is a couple of years old with reasonable mileage seems really expensive, especially when I can get a new one for just slightly more. I'm going to shop around (which means that I'll probably ignore it until something else breaks on my car.)

• Justin's and Jess' wedding is getting closer. Justin finally picked out what he and the groomsmen will be wearing and he arranged everything through Friar Tux. (I do love that name!) Once he created "The Look", all he and the groomsmen had to do was input their measurements and Friar Tux will send them their outfits. He used it for a couple of weddings that he was in and it was so much easier than going to a tux rental place. 

• They got a "self-uniting" marriage license. They are getting married at a venue in the woods in Canadensis, PA. They've asked John's older sister, Phyllis, to perform the ceremony. She got "ordained" on the internet; I don't remember what organization it's with, but she's married several couples and I know she'll say some lovely things this time. PA doesn't recognize her internet church, but they do offer something called a "self-uniting" marriage license. That means that the couple themselves solemnize the marriage, and all they need to do is have two adult witnesses sign the license and return the paperwork for it to be official and legal. It was originally meant for Quakers, although you don't have to be Quaker to go this route. I think it's kind of cool; I just need to stop calling it self-sealing.

• I'm still plugging away on dish towels but I'll be back Wednesday to show you some progress. I hope you are having an enjoyable Labor Day if you're in the US, or a lovely Monday if you're elsewhere! 

 

 

Read With Us Lounge: 8/31/26

 

As our summer together in the Read With Us Lounge comes to an end, I want to say a big thank-you to everyone who joined in, whether you participated in every discussion, dropped by occasionally, or simply kept the Lounge in the back of your mind as you made your way through your summer reading.

When we started, the goal was pretty simple: No Rules. Just Fun. We hoped to make reading feel a little less like a checklist and a little more like an adventure. I wanted us to challenge some of our usual reading habits, try books we might not otherwise pick up, and most of all, have fun talking about books with other readers.

So, before we close the Lounge for the summer, I'd love to hear what you thought!

Did you enjoy the Read With Us Lounge?

A few questions to get the conversation started:

• What did you enjoy most about the Lounge?

• Did you discover a book, author, or type of book you wouldn't have tried otherwise?

• Did any of our prompts change the way you thought about your reading?

• Was there a particular discussion or post that stayed with you?

• Did you enjoy having the freedom to read whatever you wanted, rather than following a traditional book-club reading list (and no Book Bingo cards)?

• Was there anything you would change if/when we do this again?

• Would you participate in another Read With Us Lounge?

• And, maybe most importantly, did the Lounge help make your summer reading more enjoyable?

I’ve loved seeing what everyone has been reading and hearing your thoughts along the way. One of my favorite things about this group has been discovering how differently we can respond to the same book, and how much we can learn from someone whose reading tastes or life experiences are completely different from our own.

Thank you for making the Lounge such a welcoming place for readers. I hope you've maybe found a few new favorites, reconsidered a few old reading rules, and added some books to your ever-growing TBR pile.

Now it's your turn: tell me what you thought! And if you have ideas for what a future Read With Us Lounge might look like, I'd love to hear those, too.

Happy reading, and thank you for spending part of your summer with us!

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One last chance! As a small token of our appreciation, we'd love to send you a thank-you gift for participating in the Read With Us Lounge. If you're comfortable sharing your mailing address, please send it to me via email (highlyreasonableATgmailDOTcom) and we'll get your parting gift on its way in a bit. Thanks again; we really appreciate your commitment to our "No Rules. Just Fun!" philosophy.  

 

Books on Thursday

I've read a few interesting books and would like to tell you about them today.

 

I’ve been trying to expand my reading this summer, and part of that has meant seeking out memoirs by people whose lives are very different from mine. Sober Mom fits that description. Liz Jannuzzi’s account of her alcoholism, its devastating effects on her marriage and family, and her eventual recovery through AA is a candid and often remarkable story.

What struck me most was the amount of energy and planning that went into maintaining the illusion that everything was fine. Jannuzzi was raising three young children while drinking vodka for much of the day, all while hiding bottles, concealing how much she drank, hiding the money she spent on alcohol, and trying to keep her husband from discovering the extent of the problem. Her description of reaching the point where she could no longer keep the pieces of her life separated is painful but compelling.

I also appreciated that Jannuzzi doesn’t present recovery as a neat, inspirational transformation. There are cravings, uncomfortable amends, grief, marital difficulties, and plenty of awkward moments. Her willingness to describe the less glamorous parts of AA and sobriety makes the story feel honest rather than overly polished. There is also a welcome vein of humor amid some very difficult material.

One caveat for those of us who enjoy a drink: Jannuzzi occasionally describes vodka and cranberry juice with such lush, sensory detail that I found myself thinking, "Well, that sounds pretty good!" It's an acknowledgement of her writing ability, and an interesting reminder of just how seductive alcohol can be, even when you’re reading about the destruction it caused.

This isn’t a memoir I would describe as an easy or comfortable read, but it is a compelling one. Jannuzzi tells her story with considerable honesty and gives a vivid picture of what alcoholism can look like when it is hidden behind the façade of an ordinary suburban family life. Most importantly, Sober Mom offers a convincing portrait of recovery as something built one day at a time, with help from other people and a willingness to confront the damage left behind. This was four stars for me.  

 

Any Bitter Thing is a quietly moving novel about memory, forgiveness, family, and the ways that the truth can become complicated when viewed through the imperfect lens of time.

After a near-fatal accident leaves Lizzy Mitchell struggling to recover, she becomes preoccupied with the vision she had while unconscious: her beloved Uncle Mike, the Catholic priest who raised her until she was nine. Twenty years earlier, accusations of impropriety had destroyed Mike’s career and separated him from Lizzy, sending her away to boarding school. Now, as Lizzy tries to piece together what happened to her in the accident, she also finds herself compelled to revisit the events that changed both their lives.

I particularly liked the way Monica Wood explores the uncertainty surrounding memory. Lizzy isn't simply trying to uncover an objective version of the past; she has to confront how children understand adult behavior, how families protect themselves, and how easily suspicion can become accepted as fact. The question of what really happened to Father Mike provides the mystery at the heart of the novel, but the emotional consequences are ultimately more important than solving it.

Lizzy's recovery, her troubled marriage, and her complicated feelings about Mike give the story plenty of emotional depth. At times the novel felt a little overly sentimental to me, and some of the spiritual elements didn't completely work for me. Still, Wood writes with considerable compassion, and I appreciated that she allows her characters to be flawed without making them easy to judge. 

This is ultimately a story about the damage caused by secrets and accusations, but also about the possibility of reconciliation and hope. Any Bitter Thing isn't a fast-paced mystery so much as an intimate exploration of how we remember the people we love, and how understanding the past can sometimes help us find a way forward. Thanks for the four-star recommendation, Becky! 

 

I thought that Homeschooled sounded like it might be interesting, but I found myself wishing the author had chosen a different title and framed the book quite differently. This is not a book about homeschooling so much as a memoir about an unhealthy mother-son relationship marked by codependency, isolation, emotional manipulation, mental health issues, and familial dysfunction.

Stefan’s mother removes him from school because she believes his teachers are stifling his creativity, but what follows is far removed from what most people would consider education. His world becomes increasingly restricted, while his mother involves him in increasingly bizarre projects and attempts to control his behavior and development. The emotional manipulation and isolation are particularly disturbing because they are presented under the guise of homeschooling.

One episode that stayed with me was his mother’s insistence that he crawl around the house like a baby, supposedly as a way to improve his penmanship. I kept wondering what his father thought about having a middle-school-aged son crawling around the house because his mother believed this was somehow beneficial. The author repeatedly mentions that his father was very busy, but I found myself wishing there had been more exploration of his role in what was happening. I would also like to have read some of the older brother's thoughts.

There is no question that this is a sad and, ultimately, empowering story. Stefan’s return to public school after five years of isolation and his gradual discovery of a life outside his mother’s control are compelling. His journey toward independence is the strongest part of the book, but it still felt like Block excused or even romanticized much of his mother's highly aberrant behavior.

For me, the homeschooling aspect felt almost incidental to the larger story. The real subject is a mother whose controlling behavior and increasingly eccentric worldview profoundly affected her son. I think I would have connected with the book more if it had been presented as a memoir about mental health, family dysfunction, and a young person struggling to establish his own identity rather than as a book purportedly about homeschooling.

There are some powerful and heartbreaking moments here, but ultimately I found the framing of the story frustrating, and I still have many unanswered questions about what this family went through. 1.5 stars rounded up.

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

Unraveled Wednesday: 8/26/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today, but I'm also unhappy that I don't yet have a finished towel to show you. 

The last time I was at Ryan's, I measured one of his ratty dishtowels that I hope to replace with these handknitted ones. I didn't have a tape measure so I quickly made a "measuring string" for length from one of the skeins in my knitting bag while Ryan was otherwise occupied. You can see I'm approximately two repeats short of completing the length, but I think I'll do an extra one because I fully expect it to shrink when I wash and dry the towel.

 

 

Hopefully, I'll have this one completed and be well into finishing the purple one by the next time I join Unraveled Wednesday. We're leaving next Monday to visit John's older sister and her husband for much of the week. With an eight-hour round-trip drive, I'm envisioning finishing both towels and maybe starting another one in Dishie yarn using this pattern. We'll see; my knitting visions don't always turn into reality. 

 

What are you making this last Wednesday in August? 

Ravelry links:

Nested Squares Kitchen Towel 

 

Read With Us Lounge: 8/24/26

Hello and welcome to my penultimate Read With Us Lounge post. One of the things I’ve been trying to do as part of the Read With Us Lounge this summer is expand my reading. Not read more books, but read differently, especially books by people whose lives and experiences are very different from my own.

That raises an interesting question: Do books have to be “relatable” for us to enjoy or appreciate them? We hear that word all the time when people talk about books. I really related to this character. It was so relatable! Sometimes that connection is exactly what makes a book meaningful. It can be comforting to recognize ourselves in another person’s experiences, thoughts, fears, or mistakes. But I wonder if we sometimes ask too much of books when we expect them to reflect our own lives.

One of the books that first made me think about this was Wild Game by Adrienne Brodeur, which the Read With Us group read back in 2020. Brodeur’s memoir describes a complicated relationship with her mother and the enormous secret she was drawn into as a teenager. Her family dynamics, choices, and experiences were very far removed from my own life. And yet I found the book fascinating. I wasn't fascinated because I recognized myself in Brodeur. I was captivated because she gave me a window into a life I had never experienced, and into the complicated ways people can love one another, hurt one another, and become entangled in one another’s choices.

This summer, I’ve read several other memoirs that have taken me well outside my own experience. Sober Mom by Elizabeth Jannuzzi introduced me to the experience of a suburban mother struggling with alcohol addiction. Homeschooled by Stefan Merrill Block gave me a glimpse into a childhood and family structure very different from anything I knew. And Little Princesses by Marion Crawford offered a fascinating look at life inside the British royal family through the woman who served as governess to Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret.

I am not a homeschooled royal alcoholic. The only thing I really have in common with these authors is that I am a fellow human being. And maybe that is enough.

Reading about people whose lives are completely different from ours can be a reminder that we don't need to have the same experiences in order to recognize something of ourselves in another person. We can recognize fear without having experienced the same thing that frightened someone else. We can understand loneliness without having lived the same kind of loneliness. We can recognize love, shame, jealousy, grief, ambition, regret, or hope even when the circumstances surrounding those emotions are completely unfamiliar. That may be one of the great gifts of reading.

A book doesn't always have to say, “This is just like my life.” Sometimes it can say, “This is nothing like my life, but now I understand a little more about someone else's.” And that seems especially valuable right now. It is very easy to make assumptions about people whose lives look different from ours. We can reduce someone to a label, an experience, a mistake, or a set of circumstances we don't understand. But spending several hours inside someone else's story can make that person more complicated, more human, and harder to dismiss.

Does reading automatically make us more empathetic? Probably not. But I think it can give empathy somewhere to begin. I will never understand exactly what it is like to be an alcoholic (hopefully), to be homeschooled, or to grow up in the royal household. But after reading these books, I have a little more understanding of people who have lived those lives. And perhaps the next time I encounter someone whose experiences are completely different from mine, I'll be a little less quick to judge.

What about you? Tell me about a book that expanded your empathy precisely because it felt unfamiliar. What did you learn from entering a life that was very different from your own? Did reading about that experience change the way you thought about the people who live it? And, just as importantly: Do you think a book needs to be “relatable” for you to love it?

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Thank you for your participation in the RWU Lounge. We we weren't exactly sure if our "anti-book bingo" idea would work but you have helped to make it a rousing success with your thoughtful comments and discussion, no matter what the topic was. As a small token of our appreciation, we'd love to send you a thank-you gift. If you're comfortable sharing your mailing address, please send it to me via email (highlyreasonableATgmailDOTcom) and we'll get your parting gift on its way in a bit. Thanks again; we really appreciate your commitment to our "No Rules. Just Fun!" philosophy.