Friday, August 29, 2025

A Few Books

I read four five books this week so I'm sharing my thoughts. 


I’ve enjoyed several of Fannie Flagg’s novels in the past—her warmth, humor, and ability to capture small-town quirks usually shine through. Unfortunately, Something to Look Forward To, a collection of short stories, didn’t land the same way for me.

The premise is fun enough: bite-sized tales about everyday Americans finding unconventional ways to deal with life’s challenges, often through humor and resilience. But the execution felt more inane than insightful. Many of the stories struck me as too silly or cartoonish, without the depth or heart I’ve come to expect from Flagg. The characters skimmed the surface rather than becoming people I could really root for, and the repeated attempts at quirkiness sometimes came across as forced.

There were a few moments that made me smile, and the light tone might appeal to readers looking for pure fluff or a distraction. But compared to her novels, this collection felt like an afterthought—more of a patchwork of gags than the warm, engaging storytelling I know she’s capable of.

If you’re a longtime Flagg fan, you might find a little comfort in her familiar voice here. But if you’re new to her work, I’d recommend starting with one of her novels instead. Two and a half stars, but I just can't round up. 
  


Clumsy Beauty is a sweet and uplifting collection, full of warmth and encouragement. Kennedy’s poems are short, hopeful, and often accompanied by charming illustrations that match the book’s spirit of self-acceptance. The focus on imperfection as a form of beauty is timely and encouraging, and I appreciated the overall positivity of the collection.

That said, many of the poems felt very closely tied to the author’s own emotions and experiences. While this makes them heartfelt, it also limited their resonance for me. I was hoping for a broader, more universal appeal—something that would invite me in more fully rather than feeling like I was overhearing someone else’s private reflections.

As a result, this is a nice book to dip into for a quick dose of positivity, but it didn’t quite leave a lasting impact. Readers looking for a gentle reminder of self-worth and a celebration of quirks will likely enjoy it more than those seeking depth or universality in poetry.
 Three stars from me. 

What My Mother Gave Me, edited by Elizabeth Benedict, is a thoughtful anthology of essays by women writers reflecting on a gift—sometimes physical, sometimes intangible—that they received from their mothers. The range is wide: from heirlooms and recipes to gestures, habits, or life lessons. What emerges is a portrait of the complex, layered relationships between mothers and daughters—relationships that are rarely simple and often deeply moving.

The collection shines in its variety of voices. Some essays are tender and heartwarming, while others are raw, even painful, showing that gifts can carry both love and ambivalence. The honesty of contributors like Lisa See and Ann Hood stood out to me, and I appreciated how the book didn’t shy away from the complicated or bittersweet aspects of maternal bonds.

That said, the quality of the essays is uneven. A few felt more like sketches than fully realized reflections, and the tone could sometimes drift into sentimentality. I also found myself wishing for a bit more editorial framing to weave the collection together more cohesively. 

Overall, this collection isn't flawless, but it’s rich with moments of recognition and resonance. Anyone interested in mothers, daughters, and the ties between them will find something to connect with here. 
This was another three star book for me. 

 

The Dark Vineyard, the second installment in the Bruno, Chief of Police series was a thoroughly enjoyable read. Walker once again brings the Dordogne region of France to life with such affection and detail that it almost feels like you’re wandering the vineyards, shopping the local markets, and sitting down to meals that linger long into the evening. The sense of place is easily one of the strongest features of the book.

The mystery this time centers on a suspicious fire and the larger question of how globalization and modern industry threaten the traditions of small-town life. Bruno is a charming and thoughtful detective—more interested in preserving harmony in his beloved St. Denis than in enforcing the letter of the law. His diplomacy, intuition, and love of his community make him such a refreshing main character.

The plot does unfold at a gentle pace, with more attention given to meals, friendships, and village politics than to fast-moving suspense. That may frustrate readers who want a tightly wound thriller, but for me, it’s part of the series’ appeal. There’s a warmth and humanity here that balances the darker elements of the crime.

I gave this four stars because while I adored the setting and characters, the resolution of the mystery felt a bit rushed compared to the careful buildup. Still, the book left me satisfied and eager to continue with the series. Anyone who loves a mystery wrapped in atmosphere and community will find much to savor here.

I was excited to pick up The Magician of Tiger Castle because I’ve loved Louis Sachar’s Holes ever since I read it with my kids and was curious to see what he would do with a novel written for adults. The premise—a struggling kingdom, a princess in peril, and a down-on-his-luck magician—had a lot of charm and whimsy, and I could definitely see flashes of the clever storytelling that made me a Sachar fan in the first place.

While this is marketed as an adult novel, it read much more like YA or even middle grade fantasy to me. The characters are sweet but not very layered, and the conflicts often feel simplified rather than complex. I enjoyed the light, fairy-tale atmosphere, but I found myself wishing for more depth in the world-building and the moral dilemmas.

Overall, it’s a cute, imaginative story that might work well if you go in expecting something light and fanciful. But if, like me, you were hoping for a more mature novel from Sachar, this may not quite deliver.

I hope your Labor Day weekend (if you’re in the US) is off to a great start, and that somewhere between the hotdogs, hamburgers, and swimming, you find a little time to enjoy a good book.

Wednesday, August 27, 2025

Unraveled Wednesday: 8/27/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers with the end of a project and the beginning of another one. 

Ta-da! A finished pair of socks for Jess for Christmas.


I got tired of photographing my knitting on our dry, crispy lawn, so I chose the ivy bed as my background. It hasn't suffered from the drought quite as much. 

The new project on my needles has a little bit of a backstory. When I was working on my rainbow socks, Ryan casually mentioned that he’d love a rainbow scarf for Christmas. Since my kids rarely never ask me for knitted things, I jumped on the opportunity and went hunting for yarn right away.

I placed a pre-order about six weeks ago—it was supposed to ship in three, but of course, it took twice as long. When it finally arrived, I’ll admit I was a little taken aback. In the shop photo it looked like a classic ROYGBIV rainbow, but the skeins I received had a very different vibe. For a couple of days I debated reaching out to the dyer, but in the end I decided to just cast on and see how it knit up.

Now that I’ve got a bit of fabric on the needles, I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about it … but it’s growing on me. Sometimes yarns really come to life only once you’ve got some “real estate” knitted, so I’ll keep going and see how it looks as the scarf takes shape. I'd love to hear what you think!

I finished four books this week so I'll post my thoughts about them on Friday. 

What are you making and reading this week?

Monday, August 25, 2025

Sometimes Monday ...

... calls for tackling the zucchini mountain. We’ve been absolutely inundated, and while I’ve already made zucchini bread and fritters—and stashed away 20 cups of grated zucchini in the freezer for winter baking—I still had eight medium-to-large ones staring at me from the fridge.

I’ll admit, I briefly considered the classic “leave some in the neighbors’ cars” trick, but instead I searched for recipes that use a lot of zucchini. That’s when I found this casserole. Nothing fancy, but it calls for nine cups of grated zucchini, which sounded perfect. I actually ended up with 11 cups, so I tossed in an extra egg and it worked out just fine.

I used pepper jack cheese because that’s what was on hand, but I’m already dreaming of trying gruyere or havarti next time. Since zucchini doesn’t have much flavor on its own, it happily takes on the taste of whatever cheese and seasoning you add.
 

So tonight: zucchini casserole for dinner, zucchini bread for dessert. Honestly, meals like this make me think I could live quite happily on a vegetarian diet… at least for a while.
 
I hope your week is off to a good start and make sure to lock your cars. You wouldn't want somebody leaving zucchini on your front seat! 

Friday, August 22, 2025

Haiku Friday

Kym’s emotional rescue post really struck a chord with me. It inspired me to try writing a few haiku of my own, and I was surprised by how much fun it was—and what a refreshing little pause it gave me from my usual day-to-day worries.

I’m not sure if I’ll make “Haiku Friday" a regular thing but I enjoyed the process so much that I thought I’d share the two I came up with. I used a couple of my photos as prompts, and the words just seemed to flow naturally.

So here I am, happily seconding Kym’s idea: write a haiku! Whether you feel like sharing one in the comments or just jotting one down for yourself, I hope it brings you the same bit of calm and joy it gave me.

 

quiet and silent
curled up spotted fawn hiding
in a tiny ball  
 
 
 
pink glaze shining bright,
sprinkles whisper sweet secrets
a bite waits for joy

 



Thursday, August 21, 2025

A Gathering of Poetry: August 2025

It's the third Thursday of the month so I'd like to welcome you to A Gathering of Poetry. I know I just shared a Billy Collins poem with you last month, but I've got another one that's just too good not to share now, as summer camp season is ending. A friend and I were talking about making lanyards (we actually remembered how!) and this poem just miraculously showed up. I did make several of these for my mother, although never out of boredom, and I was convinced they were beautifully crafted and infinitely useful.

(I'll try to choose a different poet for September!)

The Lanyard
by Billy Collins 
 
The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

====

Collins, Billy, “The Lanyard”, The Trouble With Poetry: and Other Poems, 2005.

You can read more about Billy Collins here.

====

Thank you for reading and joining us for our monthly Gathering of Poetry. You are
more than welcome to add your link below if you would like to share one of your
favorite poems. The more the merrier!
 

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Wednesday, August 20, 2025

Unraveled Wednesday: 8/20/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers with some small sock knitting progress. I'm working on a small sock and there is a small amount of progress. 

 
The first sock is done and I even made myself weave in ends and graft the toe. The second sock is just barely past the ankle ribbing but it's started. 
 

I received the yarn that I ordered to knit a Christmas present, so I'm anxious to finish this pair of socks for Jess and cast on for the gift. Depending on how that goes, I may cast on a second pair of shortie socks for Jess in inverse colors. 

I finished two books this week. Wild Dark Shore is an atmospheric, slow-burning story that blends survival, family drama, and eco-thriller elements against the stark, haunting backdrop of Shearwater—a fictional remote island on the edge of Antarctica. Charlotte McConaghy has a gift for crafting setting as character, and the bleak isolation of the island is evident on every page. The descriptions of the storms, the encroaching sea, and the seed bank itself are immersive and often beautiful.

Rowan, the mysterious castaway, is a compelling figure. Watching her tentative bond with the Salt family—fractured, lonely, and desperate for connection—was one of the novel’s strengths. The interplay of secrets and distrust builds tension nicely, especially as Rowan and Dominic circle one another with wary curiosity.

That said, the pacing sometimes falters. Much of the middle leans heavily on atmosphere and introspection, which creates mood but can feel repetitive. The characters, while layered, don’t always feel fully realized, and the revelations at times arrive more conveniently than convincingly.

Still, McConaghy raises urgent questions about climate change, resilience, and the fragile balance between trust and survival. Wild Dark Shore isn’t flawless, but it’s a memorable, windswept read that lingers after the last page. Three and a half stars rounded up.
 

The Impossible Thing is an especially original mystery. Belinda Bauer has a gift for taking unusual subjects and spinning them into taut, page-turning mysteries, and The Impossible Thing is no exception. The novel begins in 1926 with a haunting scene on the cliffs of Yorkshire, where desperate men risk their lives to steal rare seabird eggs. From there, Bauer bridges past and present, weaving a story that combines historical intrigue with a modern-day crime.

Patrick Fort stumbles into a case that seems small at first—an apparently simple robbery—but it quickly expands into something far stranger and more dangerous. The stolen object, a scarlet egg in a carved case, connects the present to a century-old legacy of obsession, cruelty, and greed. Bauer balances suspense with thoughtfulness here, raising questions about the human drive to collect, to own, and to risk everything for beauty.

What I enjoyed most was the subject matter of collecting eggs (I had no idea!) and how seamlessly Bauer blended the dual timelines. The historical passages on egg collecting are vivid, atmospheric, and at times harrowing, while the contemporary storyline provides momentum and wit. Patrick is both prickly and compelling, and his relationship with Nick adds warmth to the darker undercurrents of the plot.

If I have one tiny quibble, it’s that the pacing occasionally falters—there are moments when the narrative lingers a bit too long on background or exposition—but Bauer always manages to pull the story back into sharp focus.

Overall, The Impossible Thing is an inventive, intelligent thriller that marries history, natural history, and crime in a way that feels both surprising and deeply satisfying. A strong recommendation for anyone who enjoys mysteries that step outside the ordinary.
 This one was four stars for me. 

What are you making and reading this week?

 

Monday, August 18, 2025

Another Quote From Justin

Back in June, I wrote about a quote Justin had shown me and I wondered what it might mean. You helpfully provided some interesting answers and gave me plenty to think about. I've got another quote from Justin today.

 
This one is a little easier to grasp than the last quote. To me, it’s a reminder that real confidence and self-worth come from within—not from other people’s approval. Justin has been dealing with some challenges at work lately, and he said starting each day with this thought has actually helped him stay grounded. Ryan has some things going on this week, so I've passed it along to him. 
 
I've found it's helping me, too—at least a little. I may not be able to control the world burning around me, but I can choose to act like a thoughtful, rational, moral, and decent human who still gives a damn. Nugget, of course, always carries herself like royalty, so this regal photo felt like the perfect companion to the quote. 
 
I hope your week is off to a strong start—and may you keep striding through it like the absolute queen you are. 👑