February 2026

February passed in a twinkling, in part because of my dedication to watching as much Olympics coverage as possible. I love the Olympics. I can’t help it.

My couchmate, Glen, enjoyed them too:

As did our weirdest Ring-necked Pheasant, Peeping Tom:

Or rather, Peeping Tom liked watching us watching the Olympics, because he couldn’t see the tv from his angle.

Tom has always been the most peculiar of our yard’s nye of pheasants (I just learned last week that they are a nye, not a flock, so there you go), preferring to roost in the oak tree instead of in the scrubby patch with the rest of his family. They are good, if occasionally noisy, neighbours, but Tom is obviously angling for a taste of indoor life. 

I did manage to get out for a few walks despite the icy conditions underfoot. Here’s Evie contemplating making a run for the river:

I was thrilled one afternoon to watch an exaltation (or an ascension) of Horned Larks hanging out on the dykes, but was less thrilled when I got home and realised the million photos I took of them were dismal. Here is one of the slightly less awful shots of one of them:

Embarrassing. But here’s a bit better one of a Black-capped Chickadee:

I’ve been…

baking the last of the shortbread cookie dough I made before Christmas

knitting a fourth hooded scarf since November, but I think that’s it for now

learning the names of groups of birds

listening to a yard full of Song Sparrows livin’ it up

making yogurt, still trying to perfect my technique

reading Cranford and The Impossible Fortune

watching Olympics, obviously

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birds, books, family, I've been

my favourite reads of February 2026

The Body in the Library by Agatha Christie (1942)

When the body of a young woman is found in their library, Dolly Bantry immediately calls her old friend Jane Marple to help save her husband’s reputation.

I’m not sure how many times I’ve read this one over the years, but Charlotte gave me a vintage paperback version for Christmas so obviously I was going to read it yet again. So good.

Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell (1851)

The ups and downs of daily life in a quiet village dominated by elderly spinsters.

A teensy bit slow at times, but good characterisation and regular dashes of humour made it an enjoyable read. The tv adaptation starring Judi Dench isn’t entirely faithful to the source, but close enough. And the casting was perfection.

The Impossible Fortune by Richard Osman (2025)

At Joyce’s daughter’s wedding reception, the best man tells Elizabeth that he is in danger, and then disappears, thus kicking off another investigation by the Thursday Murder Club.

Good pacing, plotting, characterisation, suspense. Richard Osman is really good at this.

A Jane Austen Year (2025)

A nice scrapbook of Jane Austen’s letters, photos of places she lived, excerpts from her novels, and descriptions of items she owned and activities she pursued.

This was a nice, quiet read, produced as a fundraiser for the museum Jane Austen’s House.

Shroud for a Nightingale by PD James (1971)

A student nurse dies during a medical demonstration in front of her fellow students and, much as they all want to believe otherwise, she was clearly murdered. Unleash Dalgleish.

A bit too long, but quite good. Interesting setting and crime with believable characters.

Other titles I read that didn’t make the list:

Hag’s Nook by John Dickson Carr (a mystery-thriller that started off well, but then lost me)

Margo’s Got Money Troubles by Rufi Thorpe (DNF when I realised I didn’t care what happened next)

The Return of Mr Campion: Uncollected Stories by Margery Allingham (I love you, Margery, but these just didn’t do it for me)

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my favourite reads of January 2026

The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding by Agatha Christie (1960)

Includes the stories The Mystery of the Spanish Chest, The Under Dog, Four-and-Twenty Blackbirds, The Dream, and Greenshaw’s Folly.

All good stories. Very enjoyable. 

Art, Annotated by DK (2024)

A huge, heavy book, and an excellent survey of 500 pieces of art. 

The Art of Beatrix Potter (1955)

Includes an essay from Anne Carroll Moore on her relationship with Beatrix Potter, as well as samples of her portfolio (from age 9!) and illustrated letters she sent to young friends and relations. 

The letters ‘written’ by some of her characters are priceless. Sent from Tom Thumb: ‘Honoured Madam. Would you forgive my asking whether you can spare a feather bed? The feathers are all coming out of the one we stole from your house.’

Christmas Pudding by Nancy Mitford (1932)

A group of eccentric friends gathers at a country house for Christmas.

This started off so brilliantly. I was live, laugh and loving it, but then it started to lose its juice when the attention focused on Philadelphia Bobbin (easily the least interesting character) and her potential love affairs. The first bit was hilarious, though.

Everyone This Christmas Has a Secret by Benjamin Stevenson (2024)

Ernest Cunningham is forced into action again when his ex-wife is found covered in blood, alone in the house with her murdered fiance. 

A quick, fun read.

Pigeon Pie by Nancy Mitford (1940)

Lady Sophia Garfield does some basic admin work during the war, but wishes she could be a glamorous spy. Despite her belief in her own skills, she somehow fails to pick up on a spy ring being run out of her own home until it’s almost too late. 

Amusing.

Sabzi by Yasmin Khan (2025)

It’s the rare cookbook I’d recommend here, but this definitely qualifies. Extremely appealing recipes, and as a bonus, there are zero photos of the author grinning and posing like a madwoman on every page like every other godforsaken cookbook these days.

Sweet Danger by Margery Allingham (1933)

A thriller in which Campion and friends try to track down pieces of evidence that would restore the ownership of an old principality to its rightful rulers.

This one was a bit weird, but there were lots of funny moments and I liked it.

Other reads not on the list:

Flora Nouveaux: Not Your Grandma’s Dried Flowers by Carla Wingett (always been a fan of dried flowers, but how she thinks the average person would access her fancy materials is a mystery)

Journal of a Country Curate by Francis Kilvert (DNF – grossed out by his remarks on little girls)

Kurashi at Home by Marie Kondo (totally agree with her premise that a sane environment makes you feel good, but doubt I’ll be hand-washing my floors any time soon)

A Mind to Murder by PD James (really slow first half and by the time it started to pick up I had soured on it)

Outwitting Housework by Barty Phillips (misnamed – I expected ideas for preventing and simplifying housework, not just basic tips on how to clean)

The Plan by Kendra Adachi (thought I’d get more out of it than I did, but it’s definitely aimed at younger mothers)

Shibui: The Japanese Art of Finding Beauty in Aging by Sanae Ishida (vague, brief)

The Woman’s Book of Creativity by C Diane Ealy (very dry analysis of creativity, ironically)

Yoshuku: The Japanese Art of Manifesting by Azumi Uchitani (like Shibui, above, and all the other boring ‘cultural curiosity’ books I’ve read recently – give me specific suggestions instead of endless pages of ‘isn’t being Japanese/Swedish/whatever nationality great?’)

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second half of January 2026

January was snowy and cold and grey and perfect. If only it didn’t pass so quickly.

The birds might disagree.

Evie likes taking us for a walk in the snow and helping identify whatever this (probably poisonous) thing is:

Northern cinnabar polypore? We aren’t sure.

Evie may be an outdoorswoman, but she also likes relaxing in front of the wood stove:

I’ve been…

baking banana walnut chocolate chip cake (very, very good)

knitting another hot water bottle cover for Anna

learning the word ‘rumbustious’ (meaning boisterous or unruly), which turned up twice within a week in two novels by different authors

making huge batches of soup for the freezer

reading They Left Us Everything by Plum Johnson and The Jane Austen Year

watching the new Maigret on PBS (not good) and Digging for Britain (always great)

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birds, family, I've been, Nova Scotia

first half of January 2026

January is the best month, hands down. Christmas is over, but there are still plenty of treats around. The skies are grey and easy on the eyes. Leafless trees mean the birds are easy to spot. Cooler temperatures mean tea, blankies, candles and deep sleep every night. I love it all. I wish it was like this all year.

There was some minor, annoying excitement last week when Anna came out of work to a completely flat tire. After CAA put on her spare, we swapped cars so she could drive without worry to work the next day and surprise! Our car had an aggressively leaky tire, too. Sigh. Both vehicles have now been to the garage for new tires and other repairs (why are brake pads seemingly made of tissue paper?) so it was time for the dishwasher to break down two days ago.

I’ve been…

baking sheet-pan banana pancakes

knitting another hooded scarf

making yogurt

reading Dorie’s Anytime Cakes by Dorie Greenspan, Flora Nouveaux by Carla Wingett and A Mind to Murder by PD James

watching The Marlow Murder Club and Unforgotten, season 6

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birds, family, I've been

December 2025

Every year I swear next December will be different. Shopping, making, wrapping, baking, cooking, cleaning – I’ll start all of it earlier and cruise into Christmas Day serenely on top of everything. Ha.

I do get a little more organized with every passing year, it’s true. The Christmas Binder™ of plans, lists, recipes and games helps a lot. Not having a whole month of Christmas concerts, class parties, Secret Santas and so on for three kids on top of all the other stuff helps even more. 

And yet, by December 24 every year, I want to lie down and sleep for a week. After a few festive days of breaking up animal fights, endless dishwasher loads and non-stop eating, everyone gathers their loot and goes home and it takes a week to clean up again. I like Christmas, I do, but I like not-Christmas more.

Two of my guests, Nadja and Simon:

This guest was not allowed indoors:

Before the pressure got to be too much, there were walks with Anna and Evie.

May 2026 be kind to us all. 

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animals, birds, family, Nova Scotia, walks

my favourite reads of December 2025

The Allingham Case-book by Margery Allingham (1969)

A collection of short stories, some featuring Albert Campion.

Funny, clever, really enjoyable.

Cover Her Face by PD James (1962)

A devious housemaid is strangled in her bed and Dalgleish discovers she had a lot of enemies.

The first PD James I’ve ever read and I liked it a lot.

Do Admit! by Mimi Pond (2025)

A biography of the infamous Mitford sisters in graphic novel form.

I find graphic novels like this a bit hard to read when there are lines of text all over the page in every direction, but the Mitford sisters are so fascinating I persevered.

Night at the Vulcan by Ngaio Marsh (1951)

Young actress Martyn Tarne stumbles into a job as a dresser in a play with a cast that has complicated feelings about each other. When the star actor dies, some of the cast and crew are happy for her to take the blame.

A bit slow-moving and too focused on how sweet and charming Martyn is, but it was still pretty good.

Police at the Funeral by Margery Allingham (1931)

The fiancée of an old friend of Campion’s is the personal companion to a spiky elderly lady, who lives with her strange and unlikeable adult children and nephews, one of whom has disappeared. Campion goes to investigate.

Not my favourite Allingham, but her B-list books are still better than a lot of other authors’ A-list ones, if you ask me.

Remarkable Diaries (2020)

A large, beautifully illustrated book on diaries through the centuries, with a good range of subjects. It inspired me to hunt down a few so I can read more.

The Yellow Dog by Georges Simenon (1931)

Maigret is brought in to investigate when a would-be assassin seems to be targeting a group of influential men in a small town. 

Simenon is economical – no wasting time on extraneous conversation or character-building or much description of any sort. I like it.

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the second half of November 2025

Without doubt, this is the best time of year for walking. Even when we’re being watched by fearsome predators.

I lose my mind a bit, stopping to take pictures of everything as if I’ve never seen snow before.

Other than gaping at precipitation, I’ve spent way too much time online shopping for Christmas presents, which never fails to be both stressful and infuriating. Far more enjoyable has been the time I’ve spent knitting top-secret Christmas presents, which can be revealed here in January if I can remember to take photos before doling them out.

I’ve been watching Annika (it’s okay) and reading a bunch of good books, including Do Admit!, The Allingham Case-book, How to Be a (Bad) Birdwatcher and Cover Her Face. 

Sadly, my uncle Cecil died at the end of the month. He was a good guy and I’ll miss him.

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