A detailed analysis of 50 paintings from technical, art history, social and cultural perspectives. Excellent.
Good Behaviour by Molly Keane (1981)
Aroon St. Charles tells the story of her aristocratic family’s decline. She is the most wonderfully unreliable narrator – naive, deluded, insecure, conceited, totally clueless. I liked it a lot.
Nonsense Novels by Stephen Leacock (1911)
Short parodies of popular storytelling conventions (the know-it-all detective, the ridiculous romance, the high seas thriller, etc). Some were okay and some were brilliant. Surprisingly modern.
Psmith in the City by PG Wodehouse (1910)
What else can I say about Wodehouse? Very amusing.
Storyland: A New Mythology of Britain by Amy Jeffs (2021)
Jeffs tells her own versions of ancient legends accompanied by linoprints. Really impressive.
As always, June was a whirlwind. End-of-school-year insanity is behind us now, but there was still more than enough going on for someone who likes her days super boring and uneventful.
Aside from two birthdays, June’s big event was an extra-long weekend in PEI visiting granddog Evie and her people. She’s a beach girl, too. Must be genetic.
Evie took us to Panmure Island, where I got the obligatory lighthouse shot.
The next day, she took us to a mysterious bridge out in the middle of nowhere where we watched a heron fishing for his lunch.
The day after that, Evie took us to Beach Point Beach because it takes more than a bit of mistiness to put us off a good beach walk. (A bee sting is what it takes, actually. Poor Foster.)
Candleford Green is the third book in the Lark Rise to Candleford trilogy and, like the first two, I enjoyed it very much.
Our now-teenaged heroine Laura has moved away from home to begin her first job at a post office and, as ever, she painstakingly notes the changing manners, fashions, behaviours and expectations of 1890s small-town England.
The Girl on the Boat by PG Wodehouse (1921)
A Mother’s Day gift from Charlotte that I digested immediately. The cover art on this edition is terrible 60s-style, but the book is so much fun, like all Wodehouse.
Miss Pym Disposes by Josephine Tey (1946)
I liked, but did not love this one. Miss Pym is a teacher-turned-bestselling-pop-psychology-author and agrees to deliver a lecture at a women’s college run by an old school friend. Miss Pym finds herself enjoying both the school atmosphere and the spirited young students and prolongs her stay until a fatal accident occurs, which Miss Pym has good reason to believe was not in fact an accident.
Miss Pym Disposes is categorised as a mystery novel, but I’d say it’s really a character-driven novel with a crime very near the end.
My reading life continues to be unsatisfying much of the time, all because of my dumb decisions.
For one thing, I had the brilliant idea to start reducing the truly ridiculous number of books in this house by finally picking up titles I suspect might not be my thing and giving them 50 pages to impress me. Shocker: none of them have and every week a couple more move out to various Little Free Libraries. This is good for the shelves, but not so good for getting excited to go up to bed and read every night.
For another, I keep placing holds on books that I do think will be my thing and ugh, almost everything is so lame and disappointing. My reading journal is an endless list of titles with ‘Not my taste’ or ‘No info I’d use’ written beside them.
I did read four good things, though:
Elizabeth Zimmermann’s Knitting Workshop (2013)
I have owned and enjoyed my 1981 edition of Knitting Workshop for many years, but this updated edition (with colour photos!) has a lot of bonus material. This might be one to request for my birthday.
Everyone On This Train is a Suspect by Benjamin Stevenson (2023)
Lark Rise (1939) and Over to Candleford (1941) by Flora Thompson
Lark Rise and Over to Candleford are the first two books in what is now a trilogy usually grouped together as Lark Rise to Candleford and sadly I was unable to finish the third before the end of April. Described as semi-autobiographical novels, these are extremely detailed accounts of daily life in a tiny hamlet in 1880s England. Fascinating reading. (And nothing like the tv adaptation.)
I was sick at the end of March and not up to posting anything, so today’s recap will be two months for the price of one.
This was Simon in March, taking a short breather from destroying houseplants and pots.
March 7 was an incredibly grey day, making this flock of cedar waxwings in our beech tree hard to make out. Boy, were they noisy.
The robins are nesting under the deck again this year, meaning lots of photo opportunities when they come out to find food.
The old man sunbathing. Still a heartthrob.
A young goldfinch, I think, keeping an eye on things from the deck.
The goldfinches love love LOVE picking at the seeds in whatever this tree is beside the deck. They descend upon it en masse and will easily spend an hour hopping from branch to branch looking for goodies.
Exhibit A:
Exhibit B:
I’ve been re-photographing all my completed mittens and hats for sale and it is…not my favourite thing. Who knew that accurately photographing the finished product would be the hardest part of the whole process?
The Last of the Duchess by Caroline Blackwood (1995)
In 1980, Caroline Blackwood received an assignment to write a profile on the elderly Duchess of Windsor, but was unable to get anywhere near the Duchess thanks to her equally elderly lawyer/attack dog, Maitre Blum. This book is a fascinating account of Blackwood’s struggles to complete her assignment, including interviews with (an apparently insane) Blum and several of the Duchess’ old friends and acquaintances, all of whom had been cut off from the Duchess by Blum. Totally gripping.
Sleeping Murder by Agatha Christie (1976)
Audiobook narrated by Stephanie Cole.
A clever mystery with good narration. Enjoyable knitting listening.
The Twits, The Minpins, and The Magic Finger by Roald Dahl
Audiobook narrated by Richard Ayoade, Bill Bailey and Kate Winslet
Another one I enjoyed while parked on the couch with my knitting. All three narrators perfectly captured the spirit of Dahl’s wild stories.
As an aside…
While searching for an image of my particular edition of A Gentleman of Leisure (which I couldn’t find and so had to photograph my own), I came across this monstrosity at left. Most books that are now out of copyright and can be printed and sold by anyone have weird, ugly or inappropriate cover images, but this one takes the cake. There is zero percent chance the person who chose this image has read this, or any other, PG Wodehouse. Thank you, mystery “publisher”, for the biggest laugh I’ve had this week.
Heading into February, I expected a fairly quiet and mellow month. I knew there’d be drop-off and pick-up trips to the airport and that I’d be dog-sitting Evie for a week in addition to all the usual duties (grocery shopping, doctor appointment, parental care), but nothing too draining. What I hadn’t anticipated was an emergency root canal after two weeks of steadily worsening pain while (thanks to an error at their vet’s office) cat-sitting two of the world’s most energetic, curious and affectionate kittens.
This is grandcat Simon and this was my view any time I tried to write. Simon loves chewing pens, plants, upholstery, cardboard boxes, kitchen utensils, drapes and human fingers.
Simon is unfamiliar with the concept of personal space. He’s lucky he’s so cute.
This is grandcat Nadja. Like Simon, she likes to be paws-on and “help” write, walk, care for houseplants, knit, cook, do dishes, read a book, and, as in this photo, empty the kitchen garbage can.
They are beautiful cats and smart enough to break out poses like this just when you’re ready to strangle them.
Sadly, cousins Simon, Nadja and Evie do not make good playmates.
Evie just needs everyone to understand that this is her house and what she says goes.
I have never met a dog who enjoys the snow so much. She’d stay out there romping for hours if only she could find someone to stay with her.
But it was really cold during her week here and the stupid wimpy humans always pack in it too soon.
Uncle Glen is also frustrating for her. He looks like a dog and smells like a dog, but behaves like a Canadian pensioner on the beach in Florida, refusing to do anything but lounge in the sun all day. “Toys do not tempt him, Evie,” I said. “You’re wasting your time trying to get him to play.”
If you can’t beat him, join him.
And finally…
My lovely ram friend wanted to do a bit of modelling, but it was really cold that day and my mouth was hurting so I just took a few photos from the car and promised I’d do better next time. Sorry, buddy!
