Unraveled Wednesday: 4/30/25

I'm here to show you what the Dracula Hitchhiker looks like with the finish of Fleiderbusch (Lilac Bush) and the addition of Lavendel (It's Lavender, but I bet you figured that out without my helpful translation from German.) I decided to take the picture in the grass instead of on the gray slate patio like I usually do and it looks quite different.

I think it looks better in the grass, so that may be where I take photos from now on. There's no Unraveled Wednesday linkup since Kat is on vacation, but every Wednesday is Unraveled to me.

I finished two books this week. The first is one that Kat recommended. Cold Granite is a gritty, atmospheric crime novel that delivers a strong debut for DS Logan McRae. Set in rainy, snowy, perpetually gray Aberdeen, the novel leans heavily into its bleak surroundings—and it works. Stuart MacBride crafts a dark, often grim procedural that doesn't shy away from the brutal realities of child murder, political pressure, and media manipulation.

Logan McRae is a compelling lead, recently returned to duty after a near-fatal stabbing. He's smart and determined but also constantly outpaced by bureaucracy, bad luck, and his more colorful colleagues. MacBride populates the story with a solid supporting cast, particularly the foul-mouthed DI Steel, who adds both humor and unpredictability to the mix.

The plot is dense, but that adds to the story. There are several cases intersecting, red herrings galore, and a lot of running around Aberdeen in the cold rain and awful weather. At times, it felt like the narrative was spinning its wheels, and the pacing sagged a bit under the weight of its complexity. A little tightening might have worked.

That said, MacBride’s writing shines in his vivid (and often gruesome) descriptions and in the snappy dialogue. His black humor is sharp, and the procedural elements feel authentic. This three and a half star novel wasn't perfect, but definitely promising. I’ll be picking up the next in the series.

I was relieved to finish the second book. Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars. is classic Joyce Carol Oates in many ways: immersive, sprawling, unflinching in its look at grief, race, family dynamics, and injustice. Oates is clearly a master of her craft — her writing can be absolutely brilliant, dropping you into the minds and emotions of her characters with incredible precision. There are passages here that are breathtaking in their insight and emotional weight.

And yet . . . as a reading experience, for me this book often felt more like a test of endurance than a rewarding journey. At nearly 800 pages, it sprawls in ways that feel less intentional and more exhausting. While the premise is gripping — a family reeling after a violent encounter with the police — the narrative meanders endlessly, and many threads seem to simply wither away rather than build toward anything satisfying.

Oates clearly isn't interested in "clean" resolutions, and that's fine — life is messy, grief is ongoing. But for a novel of this size and ambition, the lack of any real catharsis or payoff by the end was frustrating. After hundreds of pages of character study and slow-burn tension, I wanted something that felt like emotional movement or growth. Instead, the characters seem just as lost, fractured, and haunted as when the novel began.

Ultimately, Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars. showcases Oates’ undeniable brilliance as a writer, but as a novel, it’s a heavy, sometimes unrewarding experience. If you’re a diehard fan of her work or love character-driven sagas without neat endings, you might find more to love here. Otherwise, prepare for a long, often beautiful, but deeply unresolved read. Three and a half stars, but I can't round up.  

What are you making and reading this week?

Read With Us: Nesting

We announced our Spring Read With Us book a couple of weeks ago, and by now I hope you're all on your library wait lists and moving up in the queues. We'll be writing promotional posts designed to provide you with some reasons why we hope you'll want to read the book, and it's my turn today. Just as a reminder, we're going to be reading Nesting by Roisín O’Donnell.

We chose the book mainly because it was on the Women's Prize for Fiction Longlist. None of us had read it when we made the choice, but I was lucky enough to get a copy from my library within a couple of days. I raced through it and found it both gripping and emotionally powerful. I personally think that Nesting is an unforgettable choice.

The book follows Ciara Fay, a Dublin woman on the brink of reclaiming her freedom after enduring years of psychological and emotional abuse from her husband. As she plans her escape, Ciara must navigate fear, manipulation, and dig deep to find her own hard-won resilience. O'Donnell’s storytelling is unflinching yet deeply compassionate, capturing the silent battles so many endure behind closed doors.

For book groups like ours, Nesting offers a rare opportunity to open up meaningful conversations around topics often left unspoken:

• Emotional Abuse and Coercive Control: How does emotional abuse differ from physical abuse? What are the invisible scars it leaves behind?

• Resilience and Renewal: Ciara's journey is not just about survival—it’s about reclaiming agency, identity, and hope.

• Psychological Tension: O'Donnell masterfully builds an atmosphere of suspense, making Ciara’s internal world as compelling as the multitude of external obstacles she faces.

• The Power of Language and Silence: The novel’s careful attention to what is said—and what is left unsaid—invites readers to reflect on the dynamics of communication in toxic relationships.

Nesting is a beautifully written, emotionally charged novel that will stay with readers long after the last page. It’s a perfect catalyst for discussions about strength, fear, liberation, and healing—offering not only empathy, but insight and hope.

Kym, Carole, and I will be talking about the book, giving additional information, and doing promotional posts through May. Discussion day for Nesting is scheduled for Tuesday, June 10, 2025 at 7:00 pm Eastern time, so mark your calendars. We'll ask questions on our blogs that day and then host the always fun, educational, and entertaining Zoom discussion.

Nesting is an important and powerful book. I do hope you'll Read With Us and prepare for an intense, rewarding discussion.

 

Sometimes Monday . . .

 

. . . is a day to enjoy the fruits of your labors over the weekend. I made split pea soup (it turned out a little thick, but that's how I like it) and some bread that we had for dinner last night and there are plenty of leftovers for dinner tonight. 

 

 

I also did a couple of loads of laundry so there aren't too many household chores for me to feel guilty about not doing. Yes, I could vacuum, dust, clean out the refrigerator, and mop the kitchen floor, but I think I'll leave those chores for another time. John is away for much of the day and I've found that for my sanity I need to take advantage of the time when he's not here. He used to travel a lot and I got fairly used to figuring out how to do most things myself. Now that he's retired, he can often be found hanging around in the kitchen telling me how to dice ham, and he's also offered me advice on how to hang laundry on the clothesline, how to fold clothes, the best way to water my plants, and when the best time is to go to the grocery store. (Keep in mind, he hasn't been to the grocery store in at least five years.) I love him dearly but there is a limit on how much advice I need (or want). There are times when I can't seem to do anything right, so today I'm reading, knitting, and not cleaning out the refrigerator. I bet I'll do those correctly!

National Poetry Month: Adrienne Rich

Today we're concluding National Poetry Month with poems from Adrienne Rich. She was an influential American poet, essayist, and feminist whose work explored themes of identity, politics, power, and social justice. Over the course of her long career, Rich’s poetry evolved from formal, structured verse to more experimental and free forms, reflecting her growing commitment to activism and radical thought. She is known for blending the personal with the political, using poetry as a means to challenge oppression, particularly in relation to gender, sexuality, and race. Most of her work is new to me, but as soon as I read this poem, I knew it was the one I wanted to share.

This poem movingly depicts a relationship. Rich describes how she and her husband venture into the Nevada desert to protest against a nuclear test being carried out by the United States government while contemplating their marriage at the same time. Once, the poet’s marriage was a happy one, filled with music and cookies, with movies and "afternoons on the riverbank". This togetherness is now a thing of the past. Their relationship is now characterized by an emotional distance, a "silence" at the heart of things. The couple have come to the desert not only to protest against nuclear weapons, but also to confront this silence that’s eating away at their relationship.

Trying to Talk With a Man

by Adrienne Rich

Out in this desert we are testing bombs,

that’s why we came here.

Sometimes I feel an underground river
forcing its way between deformed cliffs
an acute angle of understanding
moving itself like a locus of the sun
into this condemned scenery.

What we’ve had to give up to get here –
whole LP collections, films we starred in
playing in the neighbourhoods, bakery windows
full of dry, chocolate-filled Jewish cookies,
the language of love-letters, of suicide notes,
afternoons on the riverbank
pretending to be children

Coming out to this desert
we meant to change the face of
driving among dull green succulents
walking at noon in the ghost town
surrounded by a silence

that sounds like the silence of the place
except that it came with us
and is familiar
and everything we were saying until now
was an effort to blot it out –
coming out here we are up against it

Out here I feel more helpless
with you than without you
You mention the danger
and list the equipment
we talk of people caring for each other
in emergencies – laceration, thirst –
but you look at me like an emergency

Your dry heat feels like power
your eyes are stars of a different magnitude
they reflect lights that spell out: EXIT
when you get up and pace the floor

talking of the danger
as if it were not ourselves
as if we were testing anything else.

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Rich, Adrienne. "Trying to Talk With a Man." Diving into the Wreck. New York: Norton, 1973.  

You can read more about the poet here and here.

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Be sure to check in with Kym, Kat, Sarah, and Vera (there is a linkup below) for more poetry today. Thank you for joining and reading our celebration of National Poetry Month. (And remember that any time is good for poetry, not just Thursdays in April!)

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Unraveled Wednesday: 4/23/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers today with the Dracula Hitchhiker. That's what Wollmeise called the collection of mini skeins so that's how I continue to think of them. I've finished with the first color, Petit Poison dark, fiddled around with several ways to start the second color, Fliederbusch (lilac bush), and finally hit on one that seemed to work okay. (It's just yo, k2tog, nothing complicated.)

Except . . . I don't really like these two colors next to each other. I have had to remind myself that this is not really a gradient series, just colorways that Wollmeise grouped together, and I do like the later colors better. I think I'll just keep knitting and see what I think when I start the third and subsequent colors. It's nice yarn to work with and I have to knit something. 

I started and gave up on four or five books last week before I finally settled on Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars. by Joyce Carol Oates. It's kind of a long-winded tale (800 pages!) about a family of five siblings whose father dies and how they and their mother react. I've never read anything by this author, but she does seem to use four or five words when one would suffice. So far, I'm sticking with it because the writing is good enough that I want to find out what happens.

What are you making and reading this week?

 

Better Late Than Never

I had to run to the grocery store for a few things on Saturday, and they had a display of Easter flowers right by the front door. I picked up a pot of three hyacinths to inhale their heady fragrance, decided I needed them, and carefully placed them in my cart. 

Later I came to the floral department and saw one of those mini orchids and it was in an adorable bunny rabbit planter. I felt like I had to decide whether I wanted the hyacinths, the orchid, or neither of them, but in a complete departure from my usual, I bought both. They make me happy every time I see them! 

Jess texted me last week to ask what time they should come over for Easter and could she bring anything. Easter has never been a big holiday for us and I honestly didn't feel like cooking a big meal, but for a few moments I did consider making Easter dinner for just Justin and Jess. Ryan was playing D&D and wasn't willing to drive for an hour for a meal he didn't really want. I ended up telling Jess that I didn't have anything planned but maybe we could get together next week so I could hear about her trip. (She just went to the Galapagos!) She said that was fine; she and Justin would go fishing. I didn't have to do something that I didn't really want to do and I needn't have worried that I was going to hurt someone's feelings.

I was working outside on Sunday when I noticed that a bunch of my grape hyacinths had spread (or the squirrels spread them) and were now blooming in the yard rather than the flower beds. My mother had a fairly strict rule that outside flowers were meant to be enjoyed outdoors and we were not allowed to cut them and bring them inside. (Why? I have no idea!) I often still stick by the "rule" and leave flowers outdoors where they bloom. But since these were in the yard, I picked them and brought them inside before John mowed them. I'll be 68 in a couple of months, so I guess it's finally time for me to do what I want to, even if what I want to do is relatively minor. 

These are all small things, and while I don't see myself throwing caution to the wind, heading to Atlantic City to gamble our retirement savings, and taking up with a suave and handsome Italian gigolo, it is interesting to see that I can break some "rules", do some things that make me happy, and nobody gets harmed when I do that. Who knows, I may even order some yarn that I've been lusting after, take a nap, or eat three of my homemade peanut butter bites just to make sure I've really learned this lesson. Better late than never!

 

Not for Mark

John and his brother Mark visit each other every few weeks. Sometimes John goes over to Mark's house in PA, and sometimes Mark comes here to NJ. They talk about deer and other assorted manly topics and spend a few hours together. I often offer Mark lunch when it gets to be that time, but he rarely takes me up on it. He does, however, like my candy dish. 

This is just a dish from my grandmother that I like and what better thing to keep in it than candy. It did have some Hershey kisses and two Reese's peanut butter eggs in it. Sometime after Mark left last Sunday, John asked me if I ate the last peanut butter eggs. I had not; in fact, I was kind of saving them for later. We figured out that Mark must have eaten them. While I don't begrudge Mark a few pieces of candy, I was a little sad that I no longer had any.

So I made some.  It's really just the taste of peanut butter and chocolate that I wanted, so I used this simple recipe. I had all five of the ingredients; it's relatively simple to make, and doesn't require any baking. Clean up was a little messy but it was just two bowls, a few spoons, and a measuring cup. 

I sliced them up into small portions and I'll be storing them in the refrigerator. I doubt Mark will go in there to eat my peanut butter and chocolate confections, but it makes enough that I might even offer him a few pieces the next time he's here.

 

 

 

It's been quite a week here, but now I can enjoy some homemade chocolate and peanut butter bars. I think they're even better than drinking!