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Seeds and Tweeds

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Surf Drive

Surf Drive

Traffic around town has lightened up.

No one’s chair or blanket is within ear shot at the beach.

And our pizza, antipasto and wings from Stone L’Oven is delivered in less than 25 minutes.

Yes, Fall is coming to the Cape.

It’s cool enough to throw on a light sweater in the morning and wonderfully breezy enough to keep the windows open all day. It smells like “back to school” but I’m not going!

Like potato chips, but better

Like potato chips, but better

I love this time of year. It’s when I make my own agenda of what I want to “cover” this non-semester and where I want to spend my energy. Looks like I’ve got a larger than usual pile of books, project bags full of knitting, writing that’s waiting to be done, and an exercise program that I’m looking forward to making a habit. I am so tempted to buy a new notebook, pencil case, and book bag, but I know I don’t need any of that. I have a Staples warehouse in my basement and a resolution to not buy the unnecessary. These are the seeds for the new season.

Beach Plums Bike Path

Beach Plums Bike Path

Being a perpetual student excites me. Going to the library or on-line to find answers to big or little questions is good for my brain and my soul. After reading The Hare with Amber Eyes, I was curious to see what the art pieces looked like as well as learn more about the author, Edmund de Waal, and his family. Working on my own writing has me looking at what other writers have to say about writing. Brainpickings has been a rich resource about writing and all kinds of curiosities. I can learn as much or as little as I choose. I’m the barometer, the metronome, and the rubric.

Stone Mama

Stone Mama

I’ve been toying with Keri Smith’s book How to be an Explorer of the World. The basic premise is to sharpen your observation skills as well as your creative documentation of what is observed. I like the invitation to find patterns in my observations, and the problem solving that goes along with it. What I don’t like is Smith’s expectation that I “collect stuff” in generous quantities…i.e. pick up 30 items of interest on your daily, random walk today. The last thing(s) I need in my life is more stuff… so I’m going to have to re-create that part of the assignment or maybe not do it (the nuns are turning over in their graves). Slowing down to notice objects, actions, behavior, ideas, questions and possible answers is a worthwhile endeavor.

Hitchhiker Shawl

Hitchhiker Shawl

Taking more photographs is a way to capture a memory, a thought, a feeling without having clutter to contend with. I like that too. It’s amazing how having an iPhone has increased my opportunity to practice taking photos. It’s always handy. I can point and click. No trip to the drug store to get film developed; it is an open invitation to practice, practice, practice taking lots of shots.

This time of year reminds me of New Years; one parcel of time is winding up, the other winding down. But after a bit, I realized that Spring is a period of renewal for me, too. Guess these observations say more about me than I realized.

Blueberries in My Thrown Bowl

Blueberries in My Thrown Bowl

The Zen of Pointy Sticks

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What A Hoot Mittens

What A Hoot Mittens

My name is Diane, and I am a knitaholic. Yes, it’s true. Give me a set of needles, a skein of wooly goodness and I’ve got happiness. Why????

Another Way Scarf/Stole

Another Way Scarf/Stole

Good question, I’ve been wondering about this addictive craft/art form. There is magic in being able to create something out of what seems like nothing. Every knitted creation starts off the same way: string finagled around a stick. There are two stitches—just two—knit and purl. Everything else is a combination or machination of these two simple actions. That, in and of itself, is exciting and infectious. It’s the complexity and pattern generation that results from repeated application of a simple rule. My hubby is exploring the same idea, but applying it to the universe. I love the connections but stick to yarn. Knitting is a big, fun puzzle with infinite solutions.

Vignetto Shawl-- lace, lace, lace!

Vignetto Shawl– lace, lace, lace!

Then, there’s the Zen element. The needles gently tap each other and create a soft, soothing tick tick tick. The stitches interlock one at a time to what has already been created… and it grows like cells. A new design requires attention to detail, and I sometimes speak the pattern as I’m knitting it:  “Knit 3, Knit 2 together, Yarn Over, Knit 1.” After a short while, muscle memory often takes over, and I’m in the “zone”. Knitting is like being in a trance.

Colorwork Hat

Colorwork Hat

Another aspect of this work that causes addiction is borrowed from Woody Allen:  “I like the eggs.” I like the product as much as the process. Having yarny creations that are one of a kind, made by me is a gift to myself. Lacy shawls wrap around my shoulders and provide warmth and so much more. Handmade socks feel a zillion times better than commercial socks; they’re hugs for your feet. My latest adventure on this woolen trip is to knit a handmade sweater that actually fits—and looks fabulous. The challenge has been a bit intimidating, but serves as another way to push through my comfort zone to find more comfort.

Treats for the Feets

Treats for the Feets

Unlike my years in Catholic school, there are no mistakes in knitting. You always get “do-overs” and can undo what you don’t like. There’s no punishment, no guilt. You just get to undo the stitches and then stitch some more. I also make it a point to learn something new from each project: a new technique, different color play, something more complicated, or a remake with improvements. I just figured out how to make a warm mitten that has an opening for one finger to do texting. I’ll be publishing the pattern soon.

Sheep Texting Mittens

Sheep Texting Mittens

My usual menu of what’s on my needles includes a pair of socks, a shawl, a sweater, a hat, blanket, and something that will be a gift. I know—why so many?  Because I like them all and can’t do just one thing at a time. All of these projects sit delightfully in their bags on the living room floor next to my chair. It sometimes get out of hand, but who cares, it’s all part of creative chaos.

Hitchhiker Shawl in progress

Hitchhiker Shawl in progress

I’d love to write more, but I really have a yen to get back to my knitting.

Yep, that's me!

Yep, that’s me!

Time Out: Cape Pix

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Bike Path along Surf Drive

Bike Path along Surf Drive

Fourth of July Craziness is Gone

Fourth of July Craziness is Gone

Beach Plums.. such an unusual mixture of color and shape

Beach Plums… such an unusual mixture of color, texture, and shape

They’re Back

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For several years, we’ve been graced with a bird nest and accompanying family. It’s always in the same location: on the secure light box fixture, with the deck above for added shelter. It’s nestled close to the house in a part of the yard that’s usually quiet.

Nest with Mama and her tail feathers

Nest with Mama and her tail feathers

When their construction begins, they pull the moss from the path and leave a trail of small twigs and plant debris. I always hope they’ll find the yarn scraps I’ve purposely left behind and include them in their building– that doesn’t always happen.

Three eggs safe and sound

Three eggs safe and sound

This year they arrived late, and the whole process happened quite quickly. Before we knew it, the nest was built and eggs were awaiting. Three, to be exact.

Next, we saw little perky beaks in action. The adult birds were making regular food trips from the yard to the nest, again and again. The three were fluffy and active. Mom and Dad looked exhausted. I can relate!

Looked like one or two, but three baby birds were cuddled closely.

Looked like one or two, but three baby birds were cuddled closely.

The little ones filled the nest and finally posed for a photograph. It’s a challenge to get the camera between the underside of the deck, while getting them in focus, and having adequate lighting. Thanks to David, we got several good pix.

Born, Fed, Ready to Fly

Born, Fed, Ready to Fly

This morning we went to check on the gang, and they were gone. All that’s left is an empty nest for the next brood. In the meantime, the little birds are learning how to live out in the real world. Maybe there will be another family soon, or we might have to wait until next year. This is all so much better than reality television.

All gone...

All gone…

Pushing To Spring

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Coonamesset Farm in bloom

Coonamesset Farm in bloom

This past week has been filled with all sorts of reasons to celebrate. It’s May. There are graduations, Spring is in full force, and, of course, Mother’s Day. All good stuff.

I have had the pleasure of mentoring Gordon since he was a junior at Waltham High. Together we worked on writing critical essays, how to read challenging texts and how to remember to set your alarm to get to class on time. For the past five and a half years, he has put up with me, and I have put up with him…but joyfully so!

Gordon   Class of 2013 Bentley University

Gordon Class of 2013
Bentley University

This past week Gordon successfully completed his final semester at Bentley and will graduate next Saturday. He has invited me to the ceremony, and I’ll sit in the audience, yell and make noise when he receives his diploma, and then I’ll probably blubber into several tissues. He never gave up; he’s the first in his Haitian immigrant family to attend college, the first to graduate, and it’s a very proud moment that I know he’ll savor and appreciate. I can’t wait to see him in his cap and gown.

Mama and Molly

Mama and Molly

Mother’s Day Weekend has been absolutely delightful. Molly and Josh arrived and spoiled me rotten with her fabulous cooking and their wonderful company. Books, recipes, knitting ideas were shared and explored. We reconnected as if we were never apart. Kate and Matt will be visiting soon, but in the meantime, we did our first video Ichat. What a kick–I get to see her face and hear her voice! We gab over hot coffee as if she were next door. I really appreciate that I’ll always love my kids, but just as importantly, I really like them! I’m a lucky lady.

Coonamesset Lettuce

Coonamesset Lettuce

David and I had brunch at Coonamesset Farm today. The food was good, but the farm in springtime was something to behold. There are fallow fields, some lined with small seedlings and others more fully developed.  Everything is in the state of “becoming”. It’s filled with good intentions, hope and demands hard work. It’s also beautiful.

Alpaca deep in thought

Alpaca deep in thought

The farm animals are always a joy to visit. It’s their home and they let us drop in. The alpacas look like little kids with their big eyes and sense of wonder. Their “wool” is spun into the alpaca yarn I’ll be knitting warm hats and shawls with this winter.

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The ducks and chickens are now located together in a large fenced in area. The ducks are laid back, and the chickens seem manic. One unusual, very pretty breed of chicken  has a duo that pace back and forth as if they’re thinking about solving a quadratic equation.

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During the past month I’ve started to practice yoga. I know— I’m clumsy, don’t have an athletic muscle or bone in my body, and have trouble staying still for more than three seconds. This “yoga thing” is amazing. Both of my daughters do it and encouraged me to try. I found an excellent teacher who is succeeding in turning me into a yoga-mama. After four weeks, my chronic back pain is gone, I am more relaxed and centered, and I like doing it. I even speak softly for at least an hour after I’m done. Go figure! It is a most welcomed addition to my life, and I’m grateful.

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Last, but not least, Smitty’s Ice Cream opened for the season this past week. I confess David and I drove on an empty tank of gas to get there. Yes, he got coffee ice cream smothered in butterscotch, and I tried two new flavors: coconut and orange/pineapple. Yum, yum, yum. This cannot become a habit…well maybe one can substitute a cup of ice cream for a lunch???

All of these events (except possibly Smitty’s) share the theme of hope and rebirth that comes from inspiration as well as perspiration. It resonates with me…optimism based on hard work and realizing one’s potential by doing good stuff with focus and determination. Gordon learned how to be a student and reached his goal. The farm will be worked and produce good food and lots of beauty. My daughters have grown up into adults that I am so very proud of; parenting is work and it works. I am learning how to do yoga without falling over; I practice every day. Smitty’s Ice Cream is my exercise in moderation. That might take some time.

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Feeding It, Not Eating It

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My head was down, sewing like a madwoman, with threads all over and my eyes on the line my machine was supposed to follow. It was actually quite blissful. At the end of a stretch I saw a head bobbing up and down outside of my studio window. There was a beak, bead-like eyes and a skinny, feathered neck.

Curiosity

Curiosity

This bobbing creature fearlessly came to the window and looked in. We met, eye to eye, and she won the stare down. My sewing fell to the side, and I just had to check out this very confident animal.

It looked bigger than a chicken, nothing like a seagull, a different shape than a crow. I don’t know the names of birds, so I snapped a few photographs of this curious buddy and figured someone on Facebook would know. Maybe a pheasant? Maybe a rooster—no it didn’t have that wobbly gobble thing under its chin.

I wanted to yell upstairs to David to check out this cool sighting, but didn’t want to make noise and scare the poor bird. So I did what every person living in 2013 would do… I sent him an IM and a text message: “Check out the fucking huge bird outside my window”.

Never saw one of these before.

Never saw one of these before.

Big Bird moved from window to window all around the house, stopping to eat nibbles on the ground, and always looking our way to see what we were doing. Bella, our cat, followed inside from window to window; she was quite cautious. Her tail twitched, but no noises were made. This bird was at least three times her size. She knows her place in the universe, but she still had to watch. At times, she’d get overwhelmed and want to be held, with her face pushed in my arm pit (ugh!).

WatchCat

WatchCat

The bird spent most of her time under the bird feeder picking up the leftover goodies. She also ate all of the cranberries I tossed out after Christmas. Quite contented, she ate, and we gawked. David, who is far more quiet than I, slipped out the front door and got two feet away from our feathered friend. He was thinking Jurassic Park…they can’t see me if I don’t move. Snap, Snap,Snap… good pictures!!! Yes!!!!

Birdman

Birdman

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, this gorgeous bird, with all shades of rich brown feathers, explored our front yard. She walked on the stone path, across the dirt and checked out all of the transplanted bushes. Basically, she made her self at home. She even made a huge poop on the front walk…a housewarming gift?

After posting the pix on Facebook, there was feedback. My daughters both responded with awe and interest. Molly identified the guest as a wild female turkey. Both kids thought she was a beauty.

Someone else suggested that if I had a rifle, I could have a great meal, a trophy, and a really interesting blog post to write. I responded that I would be feeding this bird, not eating it. The thought of killing this animal and eating it never crossed my mind. Actually, I was quite grossed out by the comment. The suggestion seemed so wrong, so out of place for something so interesting and very much alive in my front yard. Others posted warnings that wild turkeys can be very aggressive, and I ought to be careful. Maybe they’re only aggressive to people who have rifles.

Wild Turkey Mama Meets Stone Mama

Wild Turkey Mama Meets Stone Mama

The best news was that my friend Katy suggested that this mama turkey might have babies nearby… a whole new generation of these beauties. I will look in earnest, but disturb nothing. Seeing the mama and the babies would be quite a gift. In the meantime, I’ll toss out birdseed and hope everyone else enjoys her as much as I do, poop and all.

Reboot

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Snowdrops, no snow.

One of the joys of living in New England is that we really have seasons—and there are discernible changes that I look forward to every three months. Spring is starting to happen here at the Cape. At first, it’s the small, quiet changes; sunlight enters our bedroom at a different angle and follows us on our daily walk to the beach.

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Bikepath/Surf Drive

The wind blows hard all winter and now it’s lessening, giving the birds a chance to hang on to the limbs and sing a bit. There is a morning chorus starting, and we’re hearing familiar voices. I’ve put out a stash of short scraps of leftover yarn for their nest building. It’s a kick to look up in the trees and see yarn from the sweater I just finished knitting.  Bella, the cat, has renewed interest in standing guard on the window ledge with eyes glued to the bird feeder. “They’re back”, she hollers. Lucky for the birds, she’s an indoor only cat.

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Little Bobo and Butterball

Kittens are starting to arrive at the shelter, just a few; the season is only beginning. They’re so tiny, with little meows and awkward, wobbly movements… and soft, baby fur. There are unbelievably fun to watch and even better to hold and cuddle.

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White Birch- wish there were more.

Trees are still quite grey, but the green bushes are full of plump buds just waiting to show some color. I’m always tempted to clip a few branches and “force” them to bloom inside, but never do because I don’t want to rob the outdoors.

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Rhodos had a hard winter.

The best part for me is seeing some action from the bulbs planted the previous fall. At first, it’s just green nubs barely pushing their way through the dirt. A few days later, it’s more rubbery green leaves, and I hold my breath that we don’t have snow or frost.  Just today the first daffodil bud is standing strong and waiting to open.

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This seasonal stuff gives me the incentive to reboot myself. I get motivation that is often reserved for New Years or back to school. I love the smell of the air, the new night sky, and the excitement that Spring brings. It doesn’t last long, but just enough to savor it and enjoy all the optimism. For me, it will also mean taking my first yoga class, planting lettuce and morning glories in peat pots, rediscovering an old favorite cookbook and starting to knit a new, lighter weight sweater. All good stuff.

Just a hint of color

Just a hint of color.

2/26/13 Morning Walk to the Beach

Stone Folk

Stone Folk

Today’s morning walk is distinctively different.  New birds are singing new tunes. Change is in the air. There’s still some leftover snow around the yard, but not much elsewhere.

Sippewissett Marsh

Sippewissett Marsh

The marsh is no longer frozen, and the tall grasses are cut down by the blizzard’s wind.

 

Blue Heaven

Blue Heaven

The creek is more blue than ever. Before long there will be beach chairs, towels, and little ones looking for hermit crabs.

Forsythia Buds

Forsythia Buds

And as my wonderful Dad would say, “The forsythias are forsythiating.” Spring is starting to unwind at the Cape.

 

Off Season, Still Prime

Board Stiff, P'town

Board Stiff, P’town

A day trip to the Outer Cape this week is significantly differently than one in prime tourist season. No, there were no half-naked people shopping or musicians in nooks and crannies…but it was, nonetheless, a satisfying jaunt.

Town Hall Front Door

Town Hall Front Door

The drive from Falmouth to P’town took only 80 minutes—no traffic. We got a parking space easily, just off Commercial Street. Needless to say, there were no crowds.

Commercial Street

Commercial Street

Most stores were closed for the season, so instead of looking for merchandise, I scoped out the architecture, the sky and the sea. What went unnoticed amongst the throngs had a chance to be in the February spotlight.

P'town East Side

P’town East Side

The beaches were empty, quiet and peaceful. The reflecting light was addictive. It’s time like this I wish I could paint. While hunting for an open restaurant, we stumbled upon two fabulous garage door paintings… too bad we don’t have a garage at the Cape! IMG_2065

Who cares about finding a restaurant when you find these two beauties?

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The homes of all year residents stood out with winter window boxes, icy wreaths and recycling/trash tied in neat bundles, almost like presents. Tradesmen trucks were abundant as off-season renovations were underway. It was very, very quiet.

Marconi Cold

Marconi Cold

Our next stop was Marconi Station and the Great Atlantic Cedar Swamp in Wellfleet. This is one of our all time favorites during the warmer months, and we had never been there in winter. It was sound asleep, and trees sounded like old bones creaking.

Crisp Ruffled Edge

Crisp Ruffled Edge

The wind had a sharp, cold edge, and the crashing waves left a white ruffle as far as the eye could see down the shoreline. A brisk walk ended up being very brisk and very short. My face hurt from the cold.

Outdoors and Indoors

Outdoors and Indoors

The scenic route home found us meandering on Route 6A instead of the more trafficked highway. There was time to scout out the geography as well as local commerce.  One previously overlooked gem in Yarmouth Port is Parnassus Book Service, a large, used bookstore, staffed by very smart, well-read folks. More than sixty years ago, the building had been a general store; now, it’s stacked from floor to decorative ceiling with the most eclectic selection of titles.

Words Floor to Ceiling

Words Floor to Ceiling

Neither my husband nor myself could figure out how these books were organized, but that really didn’t matter. To be in the presence of all these pages was a gift. We bought two books: Louise Hall Tharp’s Mrs. Jack (a biography of Isabella Stewart Gardner) and  The Great Rehearsal by Carl Van Doren(The story of the making and ratifying of the Constitution of the United States). When I’m in a unique store that’s new to me, I always ask, “What should I not leave without buying here today?” I do this in cheese shops, wine and yarns stores and am seldom disappointed. These were the two books I was told I had to get— I’ll start them next week. I’ll go back to Parnassus again and again and again.  What a find!

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Hunger finally set in as it neared 2 pm. We passed restaurant called “The Optimist Café”—my kind of place—but with no cars in the parking lot, I turned pessimist.

Then we found two cafes open in Barnstable. One was a fancier restaurant with more than its share of upscale cars in the lot. The other was The Blue Plate Diner. The diner was friendly, the menu was tempting, service was terrific, and I just wish I had room for the homemade blueberry pie. I’m so glad that we stopped there.

Yummy find

Yummy find

I guess this trip taught me that slowing down and having less to distract me has its advantages. This same route in July would have yielded a very different experience. Both have merit and both are needed. It’s sort of a ying/yang rhythm that keeps one in balance.  I can’t wait to see it all again in the Spring.

Booking and Cooking

Every once in a while, a book from the library falls into my hands, I burn through it, and NEED to go out and buy my own copy. That happened twice this month—and both books are worth talking about.

The Kitchen Counter Cooking School came on my radar screen in conjunction with a town-wide reading of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. To be honest, I was afraid TKCCS was going to be a mandate to eat organic radishes written by someone extremely knowledgeable, like Al Gore’s housekeeper. This was, thankfully, not the case.

Instead, I found a very well written, engaging memoir/cooking manual that taught me dozens of cooking lessons. The author, Kathleen Flinn, is a Cordon Bleu graduate who embarks on a quest to teach nine novice cooks how to make delicious, healthy, simple and rewarding meals. Each chapter covers a specific lesson, but equally shares the foodie journey of the nine students and their passionate teacher.

I’ve been cooking for almost fifty years, and I learned something new and worthwhile in each chapter. There are new spice combinations to experiment with, ways to do away with processed foods and replace them with tastier, fresh possibilities, and how to do so fearlessly. I also appreciate seeing how Flinn, as a teacher, met the needs of her very diversified class. Some were afraid to cook, some were discouraged because of past failures, some think they were too busy to bother. All types move forward throughout this book. At first, I started to copy the recipes I wanted to try… then I realized that I was transcribing the book and better buy a copy of my own. I think I’ll make it a point to “cook my way” through this book, one recipe at a time. Maybe two per week—sounds like a plan. Go buy the book, please. You’ll love it.

The next book that I devoured is a thin, lean, but very rich compilation of Ernest Hemingway’s opinions about writing, edited by Larry W. Phillips. Again, I started with a library copy and kept wanting to highlight and write in the margins. I’d come across astute paragraphs and read them aloud to my husband only to realize that I was reading the whole text to him, one passage after another.

Hemingway shows what it’s like inside his head. He lets us in on the process and shares the joy as well as the tribulations. The first chapter starts off with the following quotation from a letter to Mrs. Paul Pfeiffer, 1933: “I am trying to make, before I get through, a picture of the whole world—or as much of it as I have seen. Boiling it down always, rather than spreading it out thin.”

And that is exactly what he does with his writing on writing. We get these unadulterated gems that make us think and help us write. There is a freshness and authenticity in his words that I find addictive. He reminds me to cut back any unnecessary baggage. I’m especially fond of this passage from George Plimpton’s The Paris Review interview: “The most essential gift for a good writer is a built-in, shockproof, shit detector. This is the writer’s radar and all great writers have had it.”

As an English professor, I used to write “Do you need this…Is it fluff?” in the margins of many students’ papers. I’m forced to ask myself if every word is working effectively for me. This paragraph alone survived the pruning of ten words.

I’ve always believed that writing is “re-writing” and a vehicle for thinking. Hemingway says it so well in a letter to L.H. Brague, Jr., 1959: “I love to write. But it has never gotten any easier to do and you can’t expect it to if you keep trying for something better than you can do.” This famous author reiterates that writing is simultaneously joy and hard work.

Ernest Hemingway On Writing is a book that I want to have on my shelf and be able to pick up, browse through for inspiration, and come back to again and again. I suggest you do the same.

Here’s the latest on my reading for this New Year.

I succeeded in reading five books so far in January:

Art of Hearing Heartbeats

SHED

Hemingway On Writing

The Kitchen Counter Cooking School

Candy Freak (in progress).

My goal for February is five more:

The Dark Vinegard (book group book)

Finish In Sunlight and In Shadow

The Burgess Boys new Elizabeth Strout book advanced copy 🙂

and two more titles to be pulled from the mountain motherload of books in my den—all waiting patiently.

Let me know what you’re reading and what you think of it.