here at Sunchoke Farm
Whatever kind of soil sunchokes/Jerusalem artichokes/Helianthus tuberosus require, we have it. I don’t know where they came from because I didn’t plant them, but the sunchoke patch continues to spread every year and, if left unchecked, will soon be visible from space.
garden, photos
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
I first read To the Lighthouse in university and remember thinking it was okay, but not quite my cup of tea. Seeing this audio version on Overdrive recently, I wondered what I would think now, thirty years later.
Woolf’s style (heavy on stream of consciousness, light on plot) bugs some people, but I enjoyed it – far more than I did was I was young and couldn’t identify at all with Mrs Ramsay. Making it even more enjoyable was Juliet Stevenson’s excellent narration.
Recommended for anyone willing to give Virginia another chance.
books
William – an Englishman by Cicely Hamilton
I was already falling way behind on book reviews even before The Summer of Tendonitis – “the summer of”, I say, as if it’s anywhere close to being healed on this, the last day of summer – and now I’m so far behind I’m not sure there’s any point in trying to remember what I thought about books I read in January. Why why why don’t I take better notes? I sit down to read with a pen and notebook and immediately get so lost in the text that I forget all about the concept of notes. I never learn.
I do have a pretty clear memory of reading William – an Englishman by Cicely Hamilton, however. Written in 1918 as the First World War raged around her, Hamilton mercilessly skewered the pompous men and women who were so fixated on their stubborn, tiny perspectives on social issues that they completely missed the towering disaster of a global conflict bearing down on them. I was stunned by how relevant it still is. Some things never change, I suppose.
William – an Englishman is the first title re-published by Persephone Books which “reprints neglected fiction and non-fiction by mid-twentieth century (mostly) women writers.” There are currently 139 titles on Persephone’s list and you better believe I’m going to try to track down as many as I can.
(Back in March, I wrote about Persephone title number three: Someone at a Distance by Dorothy Whipple. The fusspot in me believes I shouldn’t have done them out of order like this, but I think I was so jazzed about the Whipple book right after I finished it in March that I couldn’t help myself. It’s an exciting life, I tell you.)
books
introducing my latest grandpet: Madeleine
Charlotte rescued wee Miss Madeleine from a life of crime, thuggery and unwholesome activity on the mean streets of Windsor, Nova Scotia and now has a demanding new boss for the next couple decades. Well played, Madster.
family
back to bouquets
Woohoo! *insert GIF of cat putting on sunglasses* Summer is receding at last and the blog is finally back after being wiped out by some butthead who attacked the server this site is hosted on, along with several others, ruining the work of thousands of innocent bloggers and businesses for nothing. I will never, ever understand the point of punishing people who haven’t done anything to you, which means, I suppose, that I pass the psychopath test. Yay!
I started to catch up on some long-neglected weeding in the veg garden this morning and then made this:
It was too breezy to get a photo of it outdoors so the kitchen will have to do. Brown-eyed Susies, phlox, maple leaves, potentilla and yarrow. Not pictured: 4000 cubic metres of mint. If you need mint, I can probably help with that.