Off the Shelf November 2026

I had forgotten about our new Off the Shelf topic after my first post in September, but thankfully Carole's wonderful post about her pie cookbook last Monday reminded me. So today I'm sharing a "sort of" cookbook that has an important place on my shelf. 

I have a small desk in my kitchen that is handy for paying bills and it also has a little shelf at the bottom that works well for cookbooks. I don't use them more than a few times a month, but they're the ones that matter to me and have survived multiple weedings. 

 

 

I actually added a couple of new ones last week, but I digress.

 

My mother wasn't particularly fond of making dinner day in and day out, and she eventually settled into a familiar rotation of meatloaf, spaghetti, pork chops, sloppy joes, and assorted casseroles. She may not have been much of a cook, but she was definitely the Christmas Cookie Queen. She started baking in November, making dozens of different kinds of cookies and storing them in multiple Charles Chips cans. My sister and I thought the man who delivered the chips was named Charlie, so we called them Charlie Chip cans. Mom baked so many cookies that we almost always had some left on Valentine's Day. 

  

Along with cut-out cookies, Mexican wedding cookies, chocolate chip, gingerbread, snickerdoodles, candy cane cookies, gumdrop cookies, and stained-glass cookies, she also made my absolute favorites: Magic Carpet cookies. The recipe comes from a Betty Crocker pamphlet published in 1957, and I still have my mother's copy tucked into a file folder on my cookbook shelf. 

 

They have a buttery shortbread base with confectioner's sugar icing. I tried making them once after my mother died, but they were so fiddly to put together and didn't taste anything like I remembered. I haven't attempted them again in several decades. Maybe this will be the year I finally give them another try and manage to get them right.

But even if I never make another batch, this little pamphlet will always have a special place on my shelf. It brings back memories of a very special cookie that my mother made year after year simply because she knew how much I loved them. Thanks for the love in cookie form, Mom.

 

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 11/4/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today with more Fire on the Mountain. 

That's the name of this STR colorway and I'm enjoying working on it. 

 

 

But I also made myself work some more on the last dishtowel. It's proving to be just what I was afraid of, sloggier and sloggier. I've tried rewarding myself every eight rows with a Hershey's kiss, but I'm afraid the rewards are going to have to get bigger. A peanut butter cup? A grilled cheese sandwich? A scoop of ice cream with chocolate sauce and peanuts? Time will tell ...

 

What are you making this Wednesday in early November?

Read With Us: The Music of What Might Have Been

Some melodies stay with us long after the music stops. So do the people, passions, and choices that once seemed certain to shape our lives. In Partita, Barbara Kingsolver explores what happens when the past, long set aside, suddenly demands to be heard again.

Pulitzer Prize-winning author Barbara Kingsolver takes us into the life of Livia Cable, a woman who has settled into marriage and a comfortable existence in the farm country where she grew up. But a phone call from a man she once loved threatens to unsettle the life she has carefully built. Decades earlier, Livia Bohusz was a gifted young pianist, a conservatory student with extraordinary promise, a complicated family history, and a passion for music. Now, faced with the possibility of seeing her former lover again, she must revisit the experiences and attachments that changed the course of her life. The decision is about more than whether to see him; it means confronting the past and reconsidering the choices that brought her to the life she now leads.

Moving between past and present, Kingsolver structures Livia's memories around musical pieces, exploring the connections between art and life, ambition and sacrifice, love and loss. Along the way, she considers the barriers of class, the risks of pursuing one's dreams, and the ways our earliest experiences can shape the people we become.

Kingsolver is a wonderful storyteller, and Partita promises the kind of richly layered, emotionally engaging novel that gives readers plenty to think about and discuss. It's a story about the choices we make, the paths we leave behind, and the parts of ourselves that may never quite be forgotten.

Kym, Carole, and I will be talking about the book, giving additional information, and doing promotional posts throughout November. Discussion day for Partita is scheduled for Tuesday, January 12, 2027 at 7:00 pm Eastern time, so mark your calendars. We'll ask questions on our blogs that day and then host the always educational and illuminating Zoom discussion. Bring your thoughts, your questions, and your willingness to look at a story from more than one perspective. As always, there are no right or wrong answers, just a good book and good conversation. We hope you'll Read With Us!

You can also listen with us. This is Seong-Jin Cho playing Ravel's Gaspard de la Nuit: I. Ondine. Livia chooses Gaspard de la nuit, a famously difficult three-movement work, as a technical challenge and a way to prove herself. It mirrors the intense, obsessive phase of her life when she falls in love with Sigurd.

Books on Thursday

I didn't write a book post last week, so I've got several to tell you about this week. 

Etna is an inventive and unusual story, told from the perspective of a former military dog trying to find his way home after years of war. Having survived so much, Etna sets out across a devastated landscape in the hope of finding the place from which he was taken as a young dog. Along the way, he encounters people and animals who, like him, are struggling to make sense of a world that has changed beyond recognition.

I found it quite sad to think of Etna carrying the weight of so many changes and losses, with so little understanding of why his life has become what it is. His journey is as much about searching for a sense of belonging as it is about finding a physical home. Even when the fighting has stopped, the consequences of war remain, and trust and security are difficult to recover.

Paul Yoon has come up with a fresh and compelling way to explore the aftermath of war, displacement, and maybe the possibility of hope. There is something particularly affecting about seeing the human world through Etna's eyes, as he tries to navigate circumstances he cannot fully understand. Although I appreciated the originality of the premise and the questions it raises about home and starting over, I found the story's sadness more affecting than any hopeful message.

An imaginative, quietly moving novel, though not always an easy one to read. This was 3.5 stars for me.

I’m a big fan of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, so a story that reimagines that classic through the eyes of cats was bound to appeal to me. Licorice by Kara Lareau is an imaginative and unusual take on a familiar tale, mixing a bit of mystery and a tiny bit of spookiness with feline characters who have personalities of their own.

Poor Kitty arrives at her new home hoping for a fresh start, only to discover that the previous cat, Licorice, seems to have left his mark on absolutely everything. Between the lingering scent, Duchess the parrot’s reminders that she’s merely a replacement, and the unsettling feeling that Licorice’s presence might be more than a memory, Kitty has a lot to contend with. The parallels with Rebecca are fun to recognize, even as the story takes on a life of its own through its animal characters.

I’m not entirely sure how the intended audience will receive this middle grade book, but I enjoyed its originality. The combination of a classic story, a little mystery, a touch of the supernatural, and cats worked well for me. I would happily welcome more retellings of classic literature with cats in the starring roles! 

While Peck & Peck is a book about poetry, poetry is really just one small part of a rather madcap assortment of characters, complicated relationships, unexpected tangents, and more than a few people with their own devious motives. There is a lot going on here! Its central question is whether a young man who loves poetry can preserve that love while working inside an institution that seems determined to corrupt the very values it claims to uphold. Garmus also makes a case for poetry as something essential rather than ornamental. Her main character believes poetry has something to say about virtually every human experience, from love and jealousy to revenge and reconciliation. His faith in poetry gives the novel its emotional center.

In the first half of the novel, we learn that our main character, Batter Gray, was named after a family dog whose escapades were recounted in reverent tones throughout his childhood by his mother, Rainey. Rainey is a type designer with an extensive knowledge of typography, but it was her stories about Batter the dog, which she told to Batter her son, that made her my favorite character. I loved this wonderfully eccentric touch and the way Garmus uses it to establish the family's particular brand of oddness.

I listened to the audiobook, and while I enjoyed the experience, I suspect I missed some of the nuances and connections along the way. There are so many threads, tangents, and moving pieces that the story occasionally bogs down under the weight of its own cleverness. I sometimes struggled to keep track of everything that was happening and how all the pieces fit together.

Still, Garmus has a lively imagination, and there is plenty here to entertain and surprise. The characters are an eccentric bunch, the motives behind their actions aren't always what they seem, and eventually the various threads find their resolution.

I'm giving this four stars, with the feeling that I haven't quite absorbed everything the novel has to offer. I'll be rereading it with my eyes next time, hoping to catch more of the details and appreciate how all the pieces fit together. I'm looking forward to seeing what I missed the first time around!

"Poetry is problematic. First, it’s not easy. It forces you to think and sometimes thinking hurts. Also, poetry can make you feel stupid, like you don’t get it. And if you do get it, then it’s only because it just revealed something about yourself that you were hoping to keep hidden."

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

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 10/28/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today with a Hitchhiker in progress. 

I know I said something about maybe knitting at the wedding, but I didn't knit a stitch, even during the rehearsal or rehearsal dinner. It was quite chilly and while I thought I was dressed for the weather, I did spend a lot of time around the fire pit. Young men (and older ones also) can't seem to leave a fire alone, so there always seemed to be embers flying after they tried to get it burning better. A hole burned in my last precious STR yarn was not what I wanted as a remembrance of the wedding. 

I've also got a second dish towel cast on for Jess for Christmas, but I may currently be dish-toweled out. I did get my skeins of Purl Soho Japanese Denim Cotton out of the stash in case I felt the urge to cast on for a Saltwater Bandana, but that hasn't happened just yet. 

 

What are you making this final Wednesday in October? 

Justin & Jess

Justin and Jess got married last weekend, and it was wonderful. I don't have a lot of pictures; we weren't supposed to take any during the ceremony. I do have a few from the rehearsal and the reception, but to be honest, I was having too much fun to take too many pictures. 

Jess' bridesmaids are three friends that she's known since childhood. Justin's three groomsmen are Ryan on Justin's right and two friends that have all known each other since elementary school. We had lovely weather but it was getting quite chilly on Friday evening. (You can probably tell from the long coats and hands in pockets!)

This is John's older sister Phyllis officiating at the rehearsal. She got internet-ordained 10 or so years ago and married Justin's cousin. She's done several other services, including her mother's memorial service, and was nice enough to agree to help Justin & Jess. Technically, they got married with a self-uniting marriage license. Originally issued with Quakers in mind, PA doesn't require people electing that route to be Quakers. All it takes is two witnesses, but Phyllis put together a lovely and personal service for them. 

 

 

Some of the photographer's pictures were funny. This is supposed be Ryan helping Justin with his vest, but Justin has been able to dress himself for almost 30 years. Ryan did make sure he wasn't putting on his purple Power Rangers shorts with his backwards dinosaur t-shirt.

 

Here is the bridal party all gussied up. I can confidently say that most of the males don't routinely dress like this, but they do clean up nicely. 

 

 

They had chosen an electric violin player for music to walk down the woodland path, and I was entranced. I think the instrument is beautiful and so was the music.

Here they are being introduced as Mr. & Mrs. Becker. John and I smiled a bit about that. It took me quite a long time to get used to being called Mrs. Becker, but there's certainly room for another. 

Ryan gave a heartfelt, personal speech that he had worked on for quite a while. It was really moving, but thankfully that was the end of tears and sniffles and the beginning of the dancing. 

 

I don't have any pictures of me in my dress, but it was comfortable and I felt good in it. If/when I get some pictures, I'll share them. It's not often that I get dressed up so I hope it's preserved someplace. However I looked, I got to see someone I love marry someone they love who loves them, and it was the best part of a wonderful and exhausting weekend. 

I Voted!

New Jersey has Early Voting from Oct. 24 through Nov. 1. I had an important engagement on the 24th but now I'm home. Once I unpacked and did all the laundry, the next important thing on my list was to vote. 

I've voted by mail for six years, so this was my first time voting in person in a long time. I was really impressed with how well-run and organized everything was, in addition to the friendliness of the poll workers. They have really made me seriously consider becoming a poll worker myself.

But for now I'm just going to wait, with a lot of hope and considerable apprehension. I'll be back tomorrow with a bit about that important engagement I attended last weekend. 

 

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 10/21/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today with my last (for a little while anyway) dishtowel finally completed!

If I’m honest, I wrote that first sentence on Monday to motivate myself to finish it by today, and knit like the wind yesterday to get it done. This one is for Jess for Christmas. I may dig through my stash to see if I have enough cotton yarn to cast on another dishtowel for Jess, but that can wait until after the wedding. My gift pile continues to grow!

 

 

I'm taking a little break from dish towels to work on my colorful Hitchhiker. I've knit in lots of places, including my mother's viewing, memorial services for both my MiL and my FiL, and my father's funeral, but I don't think I've ever knit at a really joyous occasion like a wedding. I might try to get in a few rows at the rehearsal, if only so I can say that I've done it! 

 

What are you making this Wednesday in October?

Bit and Pieces: October 2026

I did a Bits and Pieces post last month, but since I'm not sure what to write about today, it's time for another one. 

Fall may be finally here to stay. We had some thunderstorms on Friday, temperatures dropped 25 degrees, and we had our first frost. John is all ready to turn on the heat, but since I just filled our oil tank at the slightly exorbitant cost of $5.86/gallon, I'm going to be wearing sweaters, putting flannel sheets on the bed, and delaying turning on the heat for as long as possible. Can we make it to Thanksgiving? We'll see!

 

John has finally listened to my nagging recommendation that he sell the old Jeep he had been trying to restore for the past four years. I don't begrudge him a project, but this vehicle was some sort of Frankenstein cobbled together from parts of various model years. As a consequence, nothing fit. The drive shaft for four wheel drive never got installed but had a permanent place in the back seat. A very pleasant man bought it two weekends ago, and the good news is that this frees up a garage for my car when it snows. Last weekend John sold the top he bought for the Jeep (that didn't fit) and a leaf blower that he restored. He said he's glad that he's cleaning out the barn. Since I'm a supportive wife, I didn't burst his bubble by pointing out that there are probably 30+ other things in there for him to sell. At least he's started!

 

 

I got a letter from the president telling me about how hard he has been working for better, more affordable healthcare for people and how he believed in returning money directly into the hands of the American people. I call BS, and I'm also lucky enough that I don't need the $90 and wish he hadn't decided to do this. It hasn't actually shown up yet, but it's possible that it will be there with my Social Security direct deposit next week. But when and if it does show up in my bank account, I'm donating it (plus a bit extra) to someone who needs it more than I do. I haven't decided yet, but I'm considering the library, our local food bank, or possibly Planned Parenthood. Maybe all of them because that might help with my simmering rage. 

After chatting with our County Clerk, I decided that voting in-person might possibly be safer than voting by mail. She said she could guarantee that ballots would be sent out but couldn't guarantee that the USPS would deliver them. Voting by mail used to be so nice and easy, but I'll be trying to figure out how to work a voting machine this year. Early voting starts here in NJ on October 24th, but I'll be busy that day.

 

Next Saturday, October 24th, Justin and Jess will be getting married. It's at a venue in northern PA, Tall Timbers Barn. Justin had very few opinions concerning the wedding but didn't want to get married at a fancy hotel or country club. Weather permitting, the service will be outside, so half of our family has been calling to ask whether they'll be warm enough. I don't know; dress appropriately! I honestly haven't had to do too much for the wedding, but as it gets closer, I'm surprised at the amount of manufactured drama. Weddings seem to bring out the the worst in people (and sometimes the best, too), but I've decided that I'm just going to smile, pay attention, and enjoy myself. I wouldn't mind if you sent good thoughts for a good time and good weather. (Maybe then the family members that want to wear sleeveless dresses won't freeze!)

Books on Thursday

I only read one book this week, but it was a really good one. 

Mary Lawson has written the kind of novel that reminds me why I love literary fiction. Set in Northern Ontario in the winter of 1969, Solace in Winter is a quiet, deeply moving story about ordinary people whose lives intersect in unexpected ways. There are no great mysteries to solve or nonstop action to keep things moving. Instead, Lawson gives us something much more satisfying: a keenly observed portrait of people trying to make sense of their lives, with all their complications, sorrows, kindnesses, and possibilities.

Jack, a widower living a quiet, solitary life in his cabin, finds his routine turned upside down when he encounters an injured dog and then a seriously injured young American fleeing the Vietnam War draft. Suddenly, his home becomes a place of refuge, and his solitude gives way to the demands and complications of caring for others. Jack's daughter, Sally, isn't nearly as comfortable with these unexpected changes, and her reaction adds another layer to the story. Lawson understands that even well-intentioned acts of kindness can stir up uncomfortable feelings and expose differences in how people see the world.

What I loved most was the way Lawson shows people gradually finding their way toward one another. These characters have their own histories, disappointments, and private burdens, and they don't always understand each other or know what to say. But sometimes simply being there, offering help, or taking the time to listen is enough to begin changing things. The relationships develop with a naturalness that makes them feel true to life, and the emotional impact sneaks up on you rather than being forced.

And then there's Lola the dog! There's something especially touching about the way an animal can bring people together, offering affection and companionship without the complications that so often accompany human relationships. Having recently read another novel featuring a dog, I'm becoming quite a fan of the role a caring canine can play in a story.

I also appreciated that Lawson doesn't turn these ordinary lives into something artificially dramatic. Grief doesn't disappear overnight, family tensions aren't magically resolved, and kindness doesn't solve every problem. Yet there is hope here, and it feels earned. The novel is a reminder that people can make a difference in one another's lives through small, seemingly insignificant acts of compassion.

Solace in Winter is gentle without being saccharine, poignant without being manipulative, and utterly compelling despite its quiet pace. I was drawn into these lives and found myself caring about what happened to the people inhabiting Lawson's snowy corner of Northern Ontario. Sometimes a book doesn't need dramatic twists or larger-than-life events to leave a lasting impression. Sometimes it simply needs to remind us of the good people can do for one another. This one did exactly that, and Lola made it all the better. Four and a half stars. 

Thank you to Edelweiss and Vintage Digital for providing me with a copy of the book. It will be published on November 19, 2026. There is a Goodreads giveaway for this book for the next week if you are interested.

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

Unraveled Wednesday: 10/14/26

I’m very happy to join Kat and the Unravelers (even though there's not an official linkup) today with a finished hat. Ta-Da!

I'm quite happy with it, especially since it's something I've thought about making since the first one ended up with holes in it. It only took me 13 years, but better late than never. 

But wait, there's more!

I'm still working on the dish towel for Jess for Christmas, but I'll admit that I am getting a bit tired of dish towels.

I was inspired by Sarah using STR from her stash, so I dug out the two skeins of Fire on the Mountain STR that have been marinating in my stash for 11 years and started ...

 ... a Hitchhiker. I honestly felt a bit sad after finishing the hat, but starting this colorful Hitchhiker cheered me right up. 

What are you making this Wednesday in October? 

Ravelry links: 

Woodsy Association Hat 2.0

Cilantro Tea Towel  

Books on Thursday

I read a couple of ARCs this week (and I'm catching up on a few other, too.) It's an embarrassment of riches, with the added benefit that these two were pretty good. In somewhat related news, Goodreads has finally instituted half (and even quarter) stars! I've wished for this for a long time, and it's nice when something good happens (however small it might be).

 

In Luna, Phoenix, Queen, Julie Orringer takes a complicated web of characters, relationships, secrets, betrayals, and losses and tells the story through a chorus of different voices. What I found especially impressive is the way each POV reveals things about the other characters that they themselves don't or can't see. With every shift in perspective, my understanding of the people and their relationships changed a little, and Orringer uses that mechanism beautifully. These are complex, deeply human characters, and none of them can be reduced to a single motivation or judgment.

I won't repeat the plot details here, as the Goodreads description already gives you plenty to go on. What stayed with me was the exploration of trust, betrayal, truth, connection, obligation, and devotion, and the unsettling ways that love can coexist with all of them.

And then there is Luna. This astonishing, horribly injured dog becomes an unexpected throughline connecting so many of these lives and experiences. I loved the way Orringer allows Luna's story to echo and illuminate the larger story without ever feeling forced.

The writing is beautiful, the characterizations are exceptional, and the ending feels exactly right. Orringer has woven all of these voices and stories into something intricate, heartbreaking, and ultimately moving. I was completely absorbed by this exquisite book, and I'm fairly sure that it will be one of my favorite reads this year. Four and a half stars.

Thank you to NetGalley and Knopf for providing me with a copy of the book. It will be published on October 13, 2026. 

 

 

It's been three months since Margaret's husband, Derek, died. It has also been forty years since their eleven-year-old daughter, Jeannie, disappeared while delivering newspapers. In An Unlikely Visitor, Joanna Cannon introduces us to a woman who is struggling to imagine a future without the man she shared her life with, all while carrying the weight of a loss that never truly healed.

Everything changes when an unexpected visitor arrives at Margaret's home. Together, they decide to finally search for answers about what happened to Jeannie all those years ago. What follows is part mystery and part meditation on grief, but more than anything, it's a story about finding hope after unimaginable loss.

As Margaret retraces the past, she learns powerful lessons about life, love, forgiveness, friendship,healing, and herself. Cannon has a wonderful gift for creating deeply compassionate characters, and Margaret's quiet courage made her impossible not to root for. My heart cheered with hers and broke with hers as she slowly opened herself to new possibilities.

While the mystery itself kept me engaged, it was Margaret's emotional journey that made this novel so memorable. It's a gentle, moving story that reminds us that even after decades of heartbreak, it may not be too late for hope, healing, or a new beginning. It was four stars for me.

This unlikely, yet emotional story stayed with me long after I finished it. Thank you to NetGalley and Scribner for providing me with a copy of the book. It will be published on October 20, 2026.  

 

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

Unraveled Wednesday: 10/7/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today with the beginnings of a badger. 

I was glad to see that the badger only uses four colors and they are all in fairly discrete blocks. He doesn't look too badger like now, but hopefully he'll have the right half of his face done next week and then the hat will be finished!

 

I also cast on another dishtowel; this one will be a gift for Jess. I'm using my favorite color along with my favorite pattern, so I'll still have to make another one exactly the same for me. It is good to work on in the evening when it's really too dark to stitch on the hat. I need lots of natural light for that. 

 

 

What are you making this first Wednesday in October? 

Ravelry links:

Cilantro Tea Towel  

  

Read With Us: It's A New Book!

It's time for us to announce our RWU Fall book and it's a good one; maybe almost as good as our Summer book!

It's Partita by Barbara Kingsolver.  

I can't say I'm wild about the cover design, but I will say that the story between those covers is brilliant. If you've read Demon Copperhead, you might be expecting another story in a similar vein, but let me tell you right up front: Partita is a completely different book. And, in my opinion, so much better! While I recognize that Demon Copperhead has plenty of admirers, Partita struck me as a much more intimate, thoughtful, and beautifully constructed novel. It's a book that drew me in and gave me plenty to think about, and I found myself appreciating Kingsolver's writing in an entirely different way.

At its heart, Partita is a story about life, art, love, and the choices we make along the way. Livia Cable has settled into what appears to be a comfortable life in the farm country of Tennessee where she grew up. But a phone call from someone in her past sets in motion a reconsideration of the life she's built and the person she might have been. As the story moves between past and present, we get a closer look at the relationship between the lives we imagine for ourselves and the ones we actually live.

Kingsolver has given us plenty to talk about here: the compromises we make, the pull of the past, the role of art in our lives, and the sometimes complicated relationship between personal happiness and the responsibilities we take on. There's also much to appreciate in the way she develops her characters and allows their lives to unfold.

And isn't that what we enjoy about Read With Us? We don't have to agree about everything, and we certainly don't have to come away with the same interpretation. We just need a book that gives us something to talk about, a few questions to wrestle with, and perhaps a different perspective or two.

The hardcover and audiobook versions have a (somewhat) manageable hold queue at my libraries, so I hope that is also the case for you. The book is just being published today, so I urge you to get your hold requests placed early. I read the Kindle version (and by read I mean that I raced through it in two days). I will be rereading it by listening to the audiobook version.   

Kym, Carole, and I will be talking about the book, giving additional information, and doing promotional posts throughout November. Discussion day for Partita is scheduled for Tuesday, January 12, 2027 at 7:00 pm Eastern time, so mark your calendars. We'll ask questions on our blogs that day and then host the always educational and illuminating Zoom discussion. This is one of my favorite novels this year, and one that is also very discussable, so I hope you'll Read With Us!

 

Books on Thursday

I read several interesting books this week. 

Imbolo Mbue’s Every Story Is a Love Story is a thoughtful, beautifully written novel about grief, forgiveness, and the complicated ways people find their way toward healing.

 

At the center is Wolo, who is still living with the devastating loss of his pregnant wife and their unborn twins three years after a car accident. His grief has softened with time, but it hasn’t disappeared. Then a letter arrives from Victoria, the woman who was driving the car. Her remorse and her desire to meet force Wolo to confront feelings he has tried to put aside, and to consider whether forgiveness is possible when the person who caused your greatest pain is also suffering from what happened.

What I appreciated most is that Mbue doesn't make forgiveness easy or sentimental. Wolo isn't simply expected to forgive and move on, and Victoria isn't reduced to either a monster or a saint. Both are complicated, wounded people trying to live with an event that cannot be undone. The novel asks some genuinely difficult questions about guilt, responsibility, mercy, and whether forgiving someone is something we do for them or for ourselves.

I also enjoyed the Cameroonian family and community life surrounding Wolo. Mbue gives the story a strong sense of place and fills it with complicated relationships, humor, faith, and the sometimes exasperating involvement of family members who believe they know what's best. Told in two timelines, we see Wolo’s marriage and the life he lost while gradually understanding the enormous weight of his grief. The contrast between the warmth and promise of his life before the accident and the emptiness afterward makes his journey toward healing especially poignant.

This is a quiet, deeply compassionate novel about living with the unlivable and finding a way forward without pretending that the past can be erased. I didn't find every part of the novel equally compelling, but its central questions stayed with me. Every Story Is a Love Story is ultimately a moving meditation on whether, after unimaginable loss, it is possible to make room for hope again.

Thank you to NetGalley and Random House for providing me with a copy of the book. It will be published on October 6, 2026. I gave this one four stars initially, but I've been thinking about it quite a bit, questioning whether it's realistic or possible at all. I'd love to hear your thoughts if you decide to read it. 

 

I was almost afraid to read this book. I spent nearly every day during his first term and now even more in this imperial second term reading the news, doomscrolling, and worrying about what Donald Trump is doing to fellow human beings, to our country, and to the world. So the idea of voluntarily spending several hundred pages immersed in his presidency wasn't exactly appealing. And yet, Regime Change is an important book.

Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan don't give us a lot of information that will be completely new to anyone who has been following the news closely. What they do is put it all together in a remarkably well-researched, coherent, and detailed account. Their reporting gives context and connects the dots in a way that daily headlines and breaking-news alerts simply can't. The result is a much clearer picture of how this second administration operates, how much has changed since Trump's first term, and how the people around him have responded to the enormous power he has amassed.

It's also a sobering read. Early in the book, the authors write "Given his cartoonish persona, his deep orange complexion, and his oversized ties and coiffure, there is often a temptation to cover Trump as if he is a clown." The book emphasizes that beneath the theatrical presentation lies an intentional and consequential deployment of executive authority, rather than mere performance or absurdity. There is no reassuring conclusion here, no suggestion that everything will somehow work itself out, and certainly no reason to expect the authors to provide us with hope for the next several years. That's not their job. Their job is to report what they have found, and they do that thoroughly.

My bigger problem may be what this book, and the news in general, does to me. Watching the news every day isn't doing my mental health any favors at the moment. I know I can't continue doomscrolling from morning until night, but I also don't want to look away completely.

Perhaps the answer is somewhere in between: step away from the daily news cycle, take a breath, and occasionally consult the people who have done the painstaking reporting for us. Regime Change is a difficult book to read, but I’m glad Haberman and Swan did the difficult work of putting this moment into a coherent historical record. Now I just need to figure out how to read that history without living inside it 24 hours a day. 

 

 

Barbara Kingsolver has written another extraordinary novel. Partita is a beautiful, deeply moving meditation on music, memory, ambition, love, loss, and the ways a single relationship, or a single decision, can alter the course of a life.

Livia Cable has built a quiet, settled life in the place where she grew up, but a phone call from a man she loved decades ago forces her to look back at the young woman she once was: Livia Bohusz, a gifted piano student whose entire life seemed to be opening before her. As the novel moves between Livia’s present and her past, her memories unfold through the language and structure of music. It’s an ambitious device, but in Kingsolver’s hands it feels completely natural. The past doesn’t simply get remembered; it gets played again.

What I loved most is the way Kingsolver explores the complicated relationship between "art and life". What happens when extraordinary talent collides with class, family expectations, love, and circumstances beyond our control? Is pursuing the thing we love worth the sacrifices it demands? And can we ever completely leave behind the person we were before life took us in another direction?

Kingsolver writes with such intelligence and compassion that even the painful parts of Livia’s story never feel merely tragic. There is an understanding here of how people make choices with the knowledge and emotional resources they have at the time, and then spend years living with those choices.

And the music! Music isn't simply decoration in this novel; it is part of the story's emotional vocabulary. The ARC includes a listening list, which I am very grateful for, because the one thing that might make Partita better would be a link to all of the pieces referenced in the book. I will be searching YouTube for Ravel’s Ondine, Bach’s Partita in C Minor, and the rest of the pieces before I read this stellar novel a second time. I have a feeling the experience will be even richer with the music playing alongside the words.

This is one of those books that makes me want to close the cover and immediately start over, not because I missed the story, but because I want to experience it again, this time knowing where all the notes are leading. Five enthusiastic stars, and I'm already looking forward to the encore.

Thank you to Edelweiss and Harper for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on October 6, 2026.  

 

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

Unraveled Wednesday: 9/30/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today with my finished stack of dishtowels for Ryan's Christmas gift.

I usually get my Wednesday posts ready on Tuesday, but I stayed up late last night trying to finish and still had several rows of seed stitch to go on this last towel. I did that this morning, so I'm a little later with this post, but I didn't want to subject you to yet another week with an almost finished dish towel. 

I did cast on another dishtowel; this one will be a Christmas gift for Jess. But more importantly, I am back to working on Justin's hat. I hope to be back here next week with the final badger in progress (and maybe even completed if I'm lucky).

Several people have asked how I can stand to knit the same thing over and over (Hitchhikers, dishtowels, and who knows what will be next). I may be a boring knitter but I truly get a lot of pleasure out of repeating these patterns and the yarns I've used. These dishtowels started as an idea for Christmas gifts, but along the way I realized that they are helping me to stay grounded in this horror show we live in. Apparently knitting the same things over and over and over again is how I manage and I'm glad to have found that out. Virginia Woolf said "Knitting is the saving of life," and I think that may be true. 

What are you making this final Wednesday in September? 

Ravelry links:

Cilantro Tea Towel  

Nested Squares Kitchen Towel 

Chili Pepper Kitchen Towel 

 

Books on Thursday

I only read one book this week, but it was a good one. Barbara Kingsolver recommended it, so I figured it might be worth reading (and it was). 

Labor is a deeply personal memoir about medicine, family, identity, and women’s reproductive autonomy.

As an OB/GYN, Dr. Mary Afsari has spent her career caring for women, and much of the book explores the tension between the care she wants to provide and the increasingly complicated realities of the medical system. Her decision to leave the traditional hospital setting and create a mobile women’s health clinic becomes both a professional and personal turning point. Her central message is clear: women deserve agency over their own bodies, health care, and lives.

I was interested in the connection between Afsari’s medical career and the mystery surrounding her grandmother Mehry’s death in Iran in the 1950s. Uncovering this part of her family history gives the memoir another dimension, particularly as Afsari considers the ways that culture, family, and expectations shape women’s lives. The sections about Iran and her family history were among the most compelling parts of the book for me. I also appreciated the stories of Afsari’s patients and her efforts to make medical care more personal and compassionate. Her commitment to the women she serves comes through strongly.

That said, I didn’t connect equally with every part of the memoir. At times it felt more like a professional manifesto than a memoir, and some of the discussions of the medical system slowed the narrative for me. I also found myself wishing that certain personal and family stories had been explored more deeply.

Still, Labor raises important questions about who gets to make decisions about women’s bodies and health. Its strongest moments are those in which Dr. Afsari connects her own family history and experiences as a physician to the larger struggle for dignity, autonomy, and compassionate care. A thoughtful memoir with an important message about medicine, women’s health, and the power of reclaiming one’s own path. Three and a half stars rounded up. 

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