I Am Half-Sick of Shadows by Alan Bradley

This is the latest Flavia de Luce Novel by Alan Bradley. So far the series is holding up in quality. I enjoyed getting to know a couple of the regular characters a little better in this book.

If you enjoyed The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, or The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag, or A Red Herring Without Mustard, you'll enjoy this one.

If you haven't read any of them, I recommend them. Start at the beginning.

This was a bonus - I like to read at least one Christmas book during the season, and when I requested this from the library I didn't realize it would fit the bill, so it was a lucky choice.

Giving Thanks

A blogging friend, Becky, calls this the season of Thanks and Giving. That really struck a chord with me - she put into words exactly how I feel. I love Thanksgiving. It is a peaceful holiday. Mostly I think of being with family and friends, and that's what I'm all about right now. The people in my life.

I love my family and the joy they bring to me. I love being with them more than anything in the world. I love all my extended family. We don't get enough time together.

What is better than a grandchild whose face lights up when they see you, then runs to you shouting, "G'ma!", and gives you a big hug? Not much in the world is better than that. I never had a clue about that special element of love a grandchild brings into our lives. Now I revel in it.

I am thankful for my friends who add joy to my life and fill my bucket with happiness. That is what friends are for. I hope I'm that kind of friend.

Life is good, and I am indeed grateful.

Chocolate Ramblings

Today I stopped at See's Candy to take care of some cravings I have and I'm sure will have in the near future. I learned long ago that I can't stock up too much, or I'm in big trouble. But I can get a few pieces and   have some peace of mind that when I need that chocolate, it will be there. 

I decided to try a couple of new things. First, A milk chocolate candy bar. Just one, not a big pack like this:

Then I bought a Bordeaux Bar. My sister loves bordeaux. I just got a bar, not a big box like this:

Finally, my favorite. Dark chocolate, vanilla buttercream. (These are milk chocolate, but I couldn't find a picture of the dark chocolates). I only bought 4 pieces, not an entire box like this:

I figured if I had pictures of so much chocolate, it might seem as if I exercised great control only buying the few that I did.

My grandma Helen used to buy the family a box of See's Candy for Valentine's day. We were each allowed one piece for dessert each night until the candy was gone. That was before I could recognize many pieces by their signature twirl on top of the candy. Each bite was an adventure, never knowing what flavor we would get.

I distinctly remember when I discovered that I could have a custom box of candy - choosing only the flavors I wanted. Oh happy day! Also that I could buy just a piece or two if that's all I wanted.

I come by my love of chocolate honestly. My mother loves chocolate. She always had a hidden stash. When she was a girl her father would come to her and say, " Margaret Ann, I know you've got some chocolate. I want some." She was a dependable source. As I was growing up she always had a stash in our house too. I did not know that until I was in college. My sisters on the other hand, were well aware of it at a young age. This just shows my survival instinct is not as strong as theirs - also that they did not share this valuable knowledge. My mom would occasionally change the location of the stash because my sisters would get into it. Or so everyone tells me. I wouldn't know.

Even once I knew about my mom's stash, I still never knew where it was. I had to ask (still that sharing problem). In recent years my mom  kept the chocolate on the top shelf of one of her kitchen cupboards, and would even stock up on ones she knew I liked before I came to visit. The location didn't change, so I could go straight there if I needed a chocolate pick-me-up.

Sunday evening I was over at my mom's. I told her I had a craving for chocolate, and did she have any on hand? Of course she did. She has a little cupboard over a sink in their apartment, and on the top shelf were four or five different chocolates for me to choose from. It's nice to see some things haven't changed.

These Is My Words by Nancy Turner

In the middle of a reading drought I was desperate for a book I could fall hard and fast for. I perused my shelves. Nothing was striking my fancy. So I turned to an old favorite - one I could lose myself in immediately.

These Is My Words by Nancy Turner. I almost drooled in anticipation. I first read this book several years ago, and then I read it again every January (for my birthday) for a long time. It is a rare book that can hold up to that much re-reading with such a high level of enjoyment. It's been a few years now since I've picked it up.

I dove right in, and barely came up for air. It was every bit as satisfying as ever. In fact, I may love it more, knowing the end from the beginning. I know just what parts to take my time over and savor. When I did have to surface to the real world, it was a shock to look outside and see my own landscape instead of the Arizona Territories in the late 1800's.

This book is in my top five books I've ever read. Right this minute I'm trying to remember what the other four are...

★ Spoiler alert: if you have not yet read this book, read it before you read the rest of this post. ★ 

The first time I read this book I cried and cried at the end. In fact, I finally went into the bathroom and turned on the shower to drown out my sobbing. Ray came in and asked what in the world was the matter. I told him it was my book. He rolled his eyes and went on his way. When I finished crying I crawled into bed and picked up the book and started all over. Then he came in and asked: "Isn't that the book you were just crying over?" I said yes. Another major eye roll. In my many re-readings of the book I sometimes skip the very end. I know what happens. I don't always want the emotion that goes with it. This time I read it all the way through. Yes, I cried, but not too much. And I have to admit it was all I could do not to pick it up and start all over again.

All Tied Up

Grandchild number 8 is now well on his way, and displayed his true colors for all to see.

This will make four of each: two boys, then four girls, then two boys. Leave it to my math majors to make a nice even pattern in our lives.

Bags

Last summer I found a new bag pattern. I got a bee in my bonnet and decided to make one for each of my Relief Society presidency for their birthday/Christmas gifts. My sisters were in town and we had fun choosing the fabric. Audrey helped me arrange the strips in a visually pleasing manner (what would I do without her?)

I finally got them finished, and gave them out today. I have to say I'm pleased with how they turned out.  

Now I've got to make one for myself.

Purple for Jennifer

Pink for Lori

Blue for Marilyn

Details:
Fabric: Hoffman Bali Pops (Pink Lemonade and Mango Margarita), and other batiks for the bag and lining

Pattern: Pack 'N' Go Tote by Kimberly Walus from Fresh Fabric Treats

Size: approximately 14 X 12 1/2 X 6. I cut the bag and pockets 2 inches taller than the pattern called for, and I'm happy I did.

Minding Frankie by Maeve Binchy

This was a light novel, full of Binchy's quirky characters, many of whom appear in  some of her previous books. I went out of town for a couple of days, and it was just the kind of book I needed - easy to take up and put down.

The ending was a little flat. It sort of wrapped things up, but not in a very satisfying way. I finished the book with  a "huh?" in my mind.

Binchy's books have morphed over the years. The first Maeve Binchy book I ever read was Circle of Friends. It was meaty, and engrossing. I think I've read everything she's written. I've liked all her books, but some definitely more than others. Her more recent books are much lighter, mostly character driven and minimal on plot. I still enjoy them, but they no longer fit the same niche in my reading needs.

A Christmas Miracle

I know, I know, it's early to talk about Christmas, but I have to share this while it's fresh on my mind.

My mother knit our Christmas stockings. For as long as I can remember, we've had these stockings. No one else I knew had anything like them, and they were big. 

When we got married my mom made stockings for our spouses, then our children, then our children's spouses, and then our grandchildren (to clarify: my grandchildren, I'm the only one who has them so far). Years ago I talked mom into making some for her and my dad. Over the years she's made them for some other people who are special to her. The stocking has our name at the top. The ones above are the Grandma and Grandpa ones that she made for herself and my dad. 

The stocking is made from the top down, so the name comes first. My mom never made the stocking until the baby was born, just to be sure she had the final name chosen. My son Ray was born on the 16th of December, and Beth was born on the 17th. They had their stockings by Christmas, and the stockings had to be mailed from California. I think every grandchild born in December had theirs by Christmas. 

One last piece of background information. In my home as a child the stockings were never hung by the fireplace until Christmas Eve. In my home as the wife and mother, I hang the stockings on the fireplace as soon as the decorations are up. I want everyone to see them for as long as possible. We all love our stockings.

1966 - the first picture I could find with the stockings. Left to right: Diane, Cheryl, Tweeter

1986 - our family Christmas picture. Clockwise from left:  Audrey, Diane, Ray, Debra, Ray

Audrey, Debra, Ray

Audrey

Debra

Ray

A few years ago we all realized that my mom would not be able to knit stockings for all the upcoming grandchildren. I suggested she make some stockings that are blank on the top and I would cross-stitch the names on when needed. So now I have half a dozen "blank" stockings in my closet.

But my mom can't really do this kind of knitting any more. So when we moved her to Utah last January I had  an eagle eye out for the stocking pattern. I figured one of my daughters could make stockings, or we could find someone who knits to make them for us. (I crochet, I don't knit). No pattern was to be found. I swear I looked through every single piece of paper in that house looking for that pattern. I was desperate and discouraged. No pattern. I just could not figure out what could have happened to it. For me, it's one of the most valuable things my mother had. There are so many memories wrapped up in those stockings.

A little over a week ago I was searching for a picture of my dad in his military uniform. I got out all ten boxes of my parents things that I have stored here at my house. One box was labeled with counted cross-stitch fabric and threads. I put it aside, thinking I would donate it, as my mom can't do it anymore. Later I opened the box and briefly glanced through it. A piece of green yarn caught my eye. I pulled it out, and it was the yarn used to make the stockings. I started to cry. There was the red yarn too. I pulled it out, and underneath that yarn was the pattern. I couldn't believe it. I had not packed that box - I think my parents did. I never thought I would be so emotional about it, but it took me a while to compose myself. 

This year I already have my Christmas miracle.

A Nice Outing

Mom and Dad

Last week we took my parents for a drive to see the fall colors. Ray's been wanting to do this for awhile, but we've been busy and last week was our best opportunity. We drove up through Park City to Heber, then down through Provo Canyon and back home. Unfortunately most of the color on that side of the mountains was mostly gone already. But we still had a delightful drive with my mom and dad. Those are easy outings for my mom - no pressure to be "on" and with it for everyone else. She relaxes pretty well when it's just the four of us. We stopped for lunch. It was mediocre, but the company was great.

These days of doing things together with my parents won't last forever. We're trying to take advantage of them while we can. I have to say Ray is more thoughtful about it than I am. I just don't think of things, and he does. He's so wonderful with my parents. He takes my dad to lunch every week, and when Ray has to drive a distance for something he calls and takes my dad along with him for the ride. Ray says "Your dad is a 24/7 caretaker. He needs the break." And Ray is thoughtful enough to give him those breaks.