How’s it going, guys? Today’s my last day at work for a week (woohoo!) since it’s my son’s fall break and I want to spend time with him. We were supposed to be going to South Carolina on Sunday but had to cancel because of the hurricane. I feel so badly for all who live in its path. It’s scary stuff. My family and I will do some fun things over the next week and we’ll try again for a beach trip in March or May of next year. Let’s all send out some heavy prayers for the people of Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina.
I just finished Thrice the Brinded Cat Hath Mew’d by Alan Bradley, the eighth book in his Flavia De Luce mystery series. I have enjoyed these books up until now. Flavia is a precocious twelve year old heroine in a small British village in the post-war period, who just happens to help solve murders. Sadly, this one may be my last. Not only did it unfold at a dreadfully slow pace, but the mystery wasn’t that compelling. And the ending! Ugh! A terrible thing happened and I think it was completely unnecessary. Oh well. It was a good run.
I just started reading Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus. Only 29 pages in and it’s beautifully written so far, as I expected it would be. It’s for my book group meeting on the 16th, which I may not attend due to a conflict. But I’ve been meaning to read it for ages, so I’m glad to have the prompt.
I recently finished Hope Jahren’s excellent memoir Lab Girl. If you’re the least bit interested in nature or science, and you enjoy memoirs, I highly recommend it. It’s not the least bit dry or overly scholarly, yet I promise you’ll never look at trees the same way again. She’s so smart and she has such a passion for the natural world. She really lays it out there about how challenging it is to be a scientist in America and constantly have to scrounge around for funding. Here’s my favorite passage, where she is reflecting on her love for her only child, a son, who happens to love beating on a palm tree with whatever implement he can find.
Being a daughter was so difficult for both my mother and me; maybe our line needs to skip a generation in order to extinguish the cycle such that it cannot be repeated. So I’ve set my heart on a granddaughter – as always, my greed for love is unreasonably premature. Based on my projections, there’s more than a small chance that I’ll die before she’s born, particularly if our line continues to skip or bifurcate. And perhaps this is the way it was meant to be, for me anyway.
Nevertheless, here on this sunny day, I can’t resist my temptation to put a message in a bottle: Somebody remember. Somebody someday find my granddaughter and tell her. Tell her about the day that one of her grandmothers sat looking out of her kitchen window with a pen in her hand. tell her that her grandmother didn’t see the dirty dishes or the dust on the windowsill because she was busy deciding. Tell her that in the end, she decided to go ahead and love her granddaughter several decades too early. Tell her about the day that her grandmother sat in a sunbeam and dreamed of her to the soundtrack of a tree being flogged.
As a mother of an only child, a five year old boy, who also loves to beat on trees, I can share that I bawled when I read this.
I hope you all have a great weekend and that you’re reading some great books! Have you read any of these? Tell me what you’re currently reading or what you just finished in the comments.