Three Days of Rain

We've had three days of rain and showers and a lot of rain before that, but that isn't all bad. We're still down more than three inches in precipitation, so any rain is good, and it has provided me with plenty of time to read and knit. It's also been great for rainbows!

Please forgive the odd angle in the photo. I was trying to get the greatest amount of arc in the picture before the rainbow started to fade.

I hope that if you've got rain in the forecast for this weekend that you might also catch sight of a rainbow. 

Unraveled Wednesday: 5/28/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers with another installment in the current Hitchhiker. I've knit and knit on the penultimate color and it has seemed to take twice as long as many of the others (and I'm still not done with it!)

It probably wasn't the smartest thing to head out to the front lawn and fling the Hitchhiker down when John had just mowed, but that just means I'll be picking bits of grass off of it while I knit tonight.   

This project has officially become a slog. Maybe it feels so slow because I have the yarn for my next project (not a Hitchhiker!) nearby and I keep petting its alpaca, silk, and cashmere loveliness. I'm quite tempted to cast on but I fear that I'll never finish the Hitchhiker if I do. So I will slog on and hopefully finish this one soon.

I finished two books this week, and I'll start with the worst first. Broken Country by Clare Leslie Hall is a novel that clearly aims high—lyrical prose, weighty themes, and a dramatic emotional arc—but unfortunately, it collapses under the weight of its own ambition.

The core of the story revolves around a tortured love triangle involving Beth who is married to Frank and her former love, Gabriel. This could have added emotional complexity but instead felt overwrought and strangely hollow. The three central characters—each nursing their own brand of poetic suffering—move through the plot in a haze of longing, regret, and endless internal monologue. It often reads like a melodramatic stage play where everyone is perpetually mid-soliloquy.

While Hall's prose is undeniably vivid, it's also relentlessly ornate. Nearly every sentence strains for significance. Descriptions that could be poignant in moderation become exhausting when every raindrop is symbolic and every glance a metaphor. I found myself pulled out of the narrative again and again by lines that seemed more concerned with sounding profound than actually being profound.

There are a few moments when Hall’s vision of a fractured landscape mirroring emotional disintegration really works. But the vagueness of the setting and the lack of consistent internal logic made it hard to connect. Things just happen, often with little grounding, to push the love triangle forward—or to stall it dramatically.

In the end, Broken Country feels like a novel that wants to say something big about love, identity, and grief, but gets lost in its own reflection. It may resonate more with readers who enjoy poetic, impressionistic storytelling and don’t mind when plot and character development take a back seat to atmosphere. Two stars and a note to myself: Avoid celebrity book club choices in the future.

When the Cranes Fly South by Lisa Ridzén is a quietly devastating novel that follows 89-year-old Bo as he navigates the loss of autonomy in his rural Swedish home. Receiving round-the-clock care—and grappling with his son’s insistence that his dog Sixten be rehomed—Bo embarks on an emotional reckoning, piecing together memories of childhood, marriage, and lifelong friendships as he confronts the reality of his dwindling time.

Narrated in Bo’s gentle, unadorned voice and punctuated by the log-book entries of his caregivers, the structure deftly mirrors the fractured nature of his mind and the fragments of a life well lived. Ridzén’s prose is unpretentious yet evocative, capturing small moments, such as sunlight on snow or the soft weight of a loyal dog in your lap, that add to the atmosphere of the book.

Bo’s internal monologue rings true, especially in his poignant conversations with the memory of his wife. The interspersed care-team logs offer an objective counterpoint to Bo’s subjective reflections, underscoring how the everyday becomes extraordinary in hindsight. Aging, regret, and the struggle to express love are explored with compassion and insight.

While Bo is richly drawn, figures like his son Hans and longtime friend Ture occasionally felt slightly underdeveloped. I wished that more had been written about what Hans was thinking and feeling. The novel’s gentle pace perfectly suits its meditative tone. The momentum felt slow at times but fit perfectly with the tone of the book.

Overall, When the Cranes Fly South is a moving meditation on memory, dignity, and the quiet heroism at the end of life. It offers a profoundly life-affirming portrait of love and loss and is highly recommended for readers drawn to character-driven stories that balance sorrow with soulful tenderness. This one was four stars for me.

Thank you to NetGalley and Vintage for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on August 5, 2025.

What are you making and reading this week?

The Many Moods of Nugget

Really, I think that Nugget only has two moods, hungry and napping, but she's a cat, so that is as it should be.

Justin & Jess headed to Cuyahoga Falls National Park for a long weekend, so that meant I got to kitty-sit. I'm probably not really needed at all since Nugget has an automatic feeder and waterer, but no automated litter box yet. I'm glad for the chance to keep her company, give her a few treats, scoop her litter box and let her nap on my lap if I'm lucky. I also get to check on the reptiles but they are definitely not why I make the 45-minute drive to Justin's house. 

Maybe if I stare at the feeder enough, some food will appear in my bowl. She was 25 minutes early.

I took a couple of Steiff stuffed cats along just to see how Nugget would react; she was not impressed. 

She was confident enough to knock one of the cats down to get a treat I had put on the floor. 

Nugget was happier when I removed the stuffed cats and she could get back to her proper place on her pillow,

ready to settle in for a nap.

If you don't want to see the reptiles, it's time to click away. 

First up is Hammy, the hognose snake. He's just little and not too creepy looking.

They also have Chomper who is some kind of lizard, but he was hiding.

Last up is Bubbles, a 10-12 foot boa constrictor. I make sure the reptiles have water and that their heat lamps are functioning, but I've made sure they know I will not be feeding Bubbles. I think she's a bit creepy and not very much of a pet, but Jess has had her for 21 years, so to each her own.

 

Nugget is a much better pet, perfectly cuddly and thankfully, not a repulsive reptile!

A Bunch of Books

I read three books this week and thought I'd tell you about them in a book post today. 

I've enjoyed Carl Zimmer's writing before so I decided to give this one a try. Air-Borne offers a compelling and meticulously researched exploration of the invisible microbial life that inhabits the air we breathe. With his trademark clarity and enthusiasm, Zimmer takes readers on a journey from hospital rooms to mountaintops, tracing the path of airborne microbes and the surprising roles they play in everything from climate systems to pandemics.

Zimmer excels at making complex science understandable without oversimplifying. He builds narrative momentum through case studies and historical anecdotes, and readers familiar with his previous work will appreciate his steady hand in guiding us through the unseen. Particularly engaging are the chapters on the aerobiome's influence on weather patterns and how technological advances are changing our ability to detect and understand airborne organisms.

While the book is intellectually stimulating, it occasionally suffers from uneven pacing. Some sections dive so deeply into microbiological specifics that the broader narrative loses altitude, becoming more academic than accessible. A bit more narrative cohesion would have helped ground the reader in what is, ironically, a very air-bound subject.

Still, Air-Borne is an insightful and timely read in a world where the unseen world around us is more relevant than ever. Zimmer reminds us that the air isn't empty—it's alive. Readers curious about aerobiology (the science of airborne life), the frontier of microbial ecology and public health will find plenty to chew on. Three and a half stars rounded up.

I've also enjoyed several of Rachel Joyce's previous works (The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry and Miss Benson's Beetle) so I was excited to read this ARC. Rachel Joyce has a gift for exploring the quiet tragedies and small triumphs of people, and The Homemade God is no exception. With her signature blend of lyricism and introspection, Joyce crafts a narrative that examines family, siblings, grief, art, and the fragile constructs we build to make sense of a chaotic world.

The novel follows four adult siblings whose lives begin to unravel when their semi-famous painter father Vic, a man in his 70s, marries 27-year-old Bella-Mae after knowing her for only five weeks. As the story unfolds, Joyce introduces us to a cast of characters each grappling with their own search for meaning, anchored by a central motif: the idea of creating one’s own beliefs in the absence of answers.

Joyce’s prose is, as always, elegant and emotionally precise. There are passages here that are truly breathtaking, and a few moments that hit with such emotional clarity they linger long after the page is turned. However, the pacing lags quite a bit in the middle chapters as the siblings and Bella-Mae do little besides wait and drink.

Where the novel shines most is in its tender exploration of belief—not necessarily in the religious sense, but in the ways people choose to believe in love, in each other, in rituals, and just maybe, in their own ability to keep going. Joyce never offers neat resolutions, but she does offer grace, which in the case of The Homemade God is more than enough.

A thoughtful, if uneven, novel that rewards patient reading. Recommended for fans of introspective literary fiction and those who appreciated Joyce’s earlier works like The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry. Another three and ahalf stars rounded up. Thank you to NetGalley and The Dial Press for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on July 8, 2025. If you are interested, there is a Goodreads giveaway for this book. 

This last book is the best of the bunch. Lily King’s Heart the Lover is a quietly powerful, emotionally rich novel that lingers long after the final page. True to her signature style, King delivers a story that is intimate, intelligent, and deeply human—centered around love in its many forms: romantic, familial, and self-forged.

At the core of the novel is a college senior, first nicknamed Daisy and then called Jordan from The Great Gatsby, who is both vulnerable and resilient, navigating the fragile terrain of new beginnings and also grief after the loss of her mother. King’s prose is sharp but tender, layered with subtext and subtle insights that reward close reading. Her dialogue is deft and believable, and she has an incredible knack for capturing the ache of longing without tipping into sentimentality.

What stood out to me was how King explored the tension between desire and independence. The emotional arcs feel authentic, and the small, real-life details—a gesture, a glance, a half-spoken thought—also carry weight. The book moves at a measured pace, which allows the characters and their inner lives to develop slowly and meaningfully. One of the novel’s greatest strengths is its restraint—King never gives too much away too soon. Instead, the narrative unfolds with subtlety, drawing you in gradually and keeping you engaged through quiet revelations and both small and large powerful moments.

Heart the Lover is a gorgeous meditation on what it means to be open to love after loss, and how finding connection often requires facing the truths we keep hidden from even ourselves. Fans of Writers & Lovers will feel right at home, and if you haven't read Writers & Lovers you will want to after finishing this one. Four and a half stars rounded up.

Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Press for providing me with a copy of the book. It will be published on October 7, 2025. Depending on when you're reading this, there may be a Goodreads giveaway for a copy. It closes on Friday. 

We've had lots of rainy and chilly weather that seems to be made for reading. I've got plenty of books in my to-be-read queue and I hope you do, too. I'd love to hear what you're reading now!

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 5/21/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers with the finish of the Lapislazuli stripe that I unraveled and fixed last week and the beginning of the penultimate blue strip in La Ola. I think this means "the wave" in Spanish, which strikes me as a little different because most of Wollmeise's names are in German. 

I suppose I could call it die Wellen (the waves) or more poetically die Wellen des Meeres (the waves of the sea) but either way, it's a light blue that is not dramatically different from Lapislazuli. I'm a little unsure about it, but I'm using Kym's real estate advice and knitting more fabric before I make a real judgement. 

 

I finished three books this week and might finish another one, so I'll be back Friday with a separate book post.

What are you making and reading this week?

Sometimes Monday . . .

 . . . is the day I expand my search for chive plants. I would use chives more if I had a ready source of them at hand and didn't have to buy a bunch every time I made baked potatoes or an omelet. I planted two different types of seeds several months ago, but all I've gotten so far are the spindliest, weakest chives I've ever seen. 

They can barely withstand being watered! 

I spent last weekend going to Lowe's, Home Depot, and the two (quite pitiful) plant nurseries in our town. I did find herbs - lots of basil, some thyme, rosemary, and even lemongrass and citronella, but no chives anywhere. 

But I have a plan today. There is a lovely garden center an hour away, and it happens to be in the same town where John has a doctor's appointment. I called them yesterday and they do have chive plants. I'll be going along with John to his appointment, and then we'll go to the garden center. John likes company but I don't "ride along" very often. For some chive plants and maybe some other delightful surprises at the garden center, it's worth it.

Keep your fingers crossed that my plan works out, and I hope you're having a good Monday!

Small Celebration of Small Good Things

Things are still Going to Hell in a Handbasket, but I only have control over so much and those things are going reasonably well. Here is a small celebration of some small good things.

Good Thing 1: My youngest son celebrated his 32nd birthday yesterday. That is a good thing, but the fact that Justin is a truly wonderful young man that I'm incredibly proud of is the best.

Good Thing 2: When we went up to Ryan's on Monday, I was thrilled to find that he had baked a carrot cake. It's one of my favorites, and he was kind enough to send me home with some of it. I've been enjoying carrot cake for breakfast!

Good Thing 3: Jess and Justin will be visiting Cuyahoga Valley National Park in Ohio over Memorial Day, and that means I get to kitty-sit for Nugget. It's just a long weekend, but I do welcome any chance to visit her, scratch her ears, and give her plenty of pets and treats. 

Bonus Good Thing: Typing "Hell in a Handbasket" above prompted me to smile at a nice memory. I was driving one day and Ryan was in the backseat. I don't remember exactly how old he was, but it was whatever age kids learn state capitals, so he was probably around 10 and in fourth grade. I was quizzing him about state capitals while I drove, but our town has three traffic circles in a row and traffic gets crazy if you're not familiar with how to drive on them. Traffic was worse than usual and after narrowly avoiding rear-ending a car that had just stopped in the circle I said, "This town is going to Hell in a Handbasket!" Ryan was quiet for a little while, and finally he said," I think that Helena is the capital of Montana, not Nebraska." Now whenever I write that expression, I always think of Helena Nebraska. It's one of those gentle memories that always makes me smile. 

I'd love to celebrate the small good things in your life, so please feel free to share them in the comments!