Tag Archives: books

Happy new year!!!

Spending my evening with Nick and Nora. Wild times!

Earlier today this got started, along with a lovely Christmas gift- a selection of luscious murder short stories.

The earlier post got shanghaied somewhere between this p&#y tablet and your screen… none the less…

Happy New Year!!!

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reflection in a puddle

This has been the wettest year in my area since . . . ever.

The wet stuff is still falling, and projected to do so into January.

At least it isn’t s**w. 😳

I’ve been reading a “new” British author, almost unknown these days: Annie Haynes. She and Agatha Christie were the only two women authors published by The Bodley Head, a noted early Golden Age publisher. Unfortunately, Haynes died young and her books went out of print.

I’ve downloaded four of them, the Inspector Stoddard series, from Dean Street Press. At 99 cents each they are a welcome bargain.

Just finished the third, Who Killed Charmian Karslake? and am enjoying them. I guessed the murderer in the first book (The Man With the Dark Beard) but have been clueless reading the others. More info is here.

Meanwhile, have a yard of knitted scarf in that autumnal yarn and have decided it is not what I want. Will wait a bit more before deciding whether to rip it all out and start something else. . .

Seems almost wasteful to continue, yet almost foolish to frog all that knitting. Any thoughts, Lovely Readers? 🤪 Continue reading reflection in a puddle

computer’s ba-a-ack . . .

 

real wellies & woolies day outside

. . .  faster and 500 gigs fatter than the old hard drive. He-he! Whilst that tablet left me cursing more than once, it was adequate for keeping in touch and it also uncovered some surprises.

The sensitive touch screen was danged uncomfortable to get used to, but what felt like forever was actually more like three days.

Appropriate apps were quickly downloaded once I discovered how truly bad the pre-programmed search engine was.  (And pop-up ads were conquered, too.)

Using the tablet I read a couple of my favourite Mrs. Malory books unavailable except in on-line editions. Delightful bedtime reads. (Shh! Rumor has it Santa  pre-ordered another favourite: Mrs. Tim Gets a Job by D.E. Stevenson.) I still prefer books to electronics, but needs must when availability (and price!) are concerned.

Friend Scott out in San Francisco has been working with Dean Street Press  getting a lot of out-of-print authors back into print, and this is one of the newest batch from his Furrowed Middlebrow (FM) series. Amazon US                      Amazon UK

I’ve read all of F.M.’s  Frances Faviell books, and enjoyed them tremendously. One of the delightful things about Scott’s series is they’ve all had half a chapter or so on Amazon to download for free, so you can get a sense of the writing before buying. Most helpful ~ wish more companies would do this.

cannot for the life of me remember why there’s a whole packet of this colour in stash… not one of my ‘usual’ shades!

What else has been going on besides watching late election returns and reading? The normal seasonal clothing swap, with associated mendings, such as those leftovers from late last winter’s tops I’d chosen not to hem. They’re now sorted, and I’ve moved on to some RTW slightly short old cords. Plus thinking more urgently about several pieces of winter fabric and how to make them up.  Photos soon.

Slowly some projects are making their way through the thinking stages, and they’re a mix of hot and cold weather items. Am I the only one doing this? The climate down here can be 60’s one day and 40’s two days later.

Sometimes I’ll put on a video while seam ripping, and lately I’ve revisited that dapper gent Lord Peter Wimsey. Ages ago when the series came out in the U.S.  National Public Radio wrote, “They offer us a fantasy of perfect closure, a world where even bloody murder is little more than a brainteaser that can, and will, be solved.” If there’s ever a time for whimsy, it’s whilst seam ripping.

I might have finally cracked my crater bread problem, partly by accident. I was rereading the booklet that came with the machine and realised they’d specified one type of yeast at the beginning, when describing ingredients in general.

But the specific recipes didn’t specify that same yeast. I had been using regular yeast. Wrong. Seems I needed rapid rise for bread maker bread.  I checked with King Arthur’s web site,  my on-line bread experts.

proper bread — at last! ! !

Yep. The change was made. And not too much change resulted in my next loaf. Oops?

Then one weekend I forgot to stop the machine and remove the paddle before the bread started the final rise. That loaf was perfect.

Cutting out the paddle from the centre bottom wasn’t too difficult. The loaf sliced beautifully, and the crumb was more consistent and lighter. Maybe I should give the King Arthur yeast a try, too.

Meanwhile, today looks more like rainy Yorkshire than a southern state (no disrespect meant to Yorkshire as I love such days), but I’ve no fireplace to sit in front of and knit or crochet. Maybe I’ll sort out the un-moldy blackberries and stir up some muffins.  But the library’s open after the hol. Maybe I’ll venture forth and see what’s on the shelf . . .

Lovelies,

May your horizons be even more bountiful!

Forgive me, couldn’t resist adding one of my favourites.

😉

thanksgiving

Letter From New York by Helene Hanff, author of 84, Charing Cross Road

For once it has been decently cool down here in the southern portions, and actually feels like Autumn.

And thus, after a hectic beginning of the month, we’ve progressed to the fourth Thursday of November which is traditionally Thanksgiving here in America.

My thoughts have gone to Helene Hanff’s description of the holiday as written for the BBC Women’s Hour audience of 1978, and kept for us to enjoy in her 1992 volume, Letters From New York, BBC Women’s Hour Broadcasts.

November, 1978 . . .

“Before the days of James the First, a group of English farmers disagreed with the Church of England. “They will conform,” said King James, “or I will harry them out of the kingdom.” They didn’t conform, and he harried them out… They got on a ship called the Mayflower and sailed to the New World, and landed at Plymouth, Massachusetts, and established a colony. And since they called themselves “pilgrims” they became known to American history as the Pilgrim Fathers…

“What happened was: the Pilgrims were befriended by the native Americans—the Indians—who taught them how to fertilize the land with eels, how to grow Indian corn and eat it off the cob,

New York City’s finest (Ceremonial division) in the parade rather than walking the beat. Rest assured there were plenty on duty amongst the crowds. I get misty over these guys because 9/11 always comes to mind.

and how to cook and eat an American bird called a turkey. And the next autumn, when the Pilgrims reaped a bountiful harvest, they invited the Indians to a feast where everybody gave thanks to God for the harvest. That feast was the first American Thanksgiving…

“What makes New York’s Thanksgiving unique is the Macy Parade, which has been hauling parents out of bed on Thanksgiving Day for fifty-five years.

(Note: Today is the 92nd parade.)

“The parade features helium-filled balloon likenesses of cartoon characters each as tall as a six- or seven-story building.

(Note: In between the balloons are high school bands and flag wavers and floats from across the country. There was a balloon missing, but as it was windy and below freezing, perhaps they decided a Florida golf course was a better place for someone in a diaper. 😉)

“Americans across the country are determined to get home for Thanksgiving, our quintessential family holiday, more so even than Christmas, since it embraces all religions and recalls the Dissenters’ faith on which this country was founded.”

His Good Self (Santa) always ends the parade at high noon. (The snow was fake, but the 26℉ wasn’t.)

Hope everyone, everywhere, is giving thanks for this day, and enjoying it.

                           🍂 🦃 🦃 🦃 🍂

personal identity & what to wear . . .

Really, how important are our clothes? What do they say about us? What are they saying to others?  Could changing our clothes really change our lives??

If you didn’t see this on Hila’s blog , grab a cuppa, take a break and watch it now.

AUTUMN ! ! ! And just in time for any chilling winds, the crocheted hat & scarf are tasselled & done!

My wooly news from last week was finishing my green acrylic hat & scarf set. Yeah!  And just about completing the 8th of my blankey rectangles. Many more to go. Also continuing to slow knit my autumnal scarf. (All my knitting is slow.)

The teal shorts continue to sit, whilst I decide what to do with a nice bit of leftover rayon…

this will make more sense after you’ve seen the last video – promise!

just another saturday
Having survived a side swipe from the latest  hurricane, it was going to be regular Saturday laundry & maybe cooking a meat loaf. Plus doing a bit of sewing whilst  listening to “Good Neighbors,” a 1970’s BBC series.

If you’d like a peek at the program, click here and here.  Margo’s outfits are so 1970’s I’m putting together a small collection to be aired after I’ve finished watching the 3rd season.

But about that meat loaf. Remember the meat loaf??

About half way through the bake I went out to check it. As I put my hand on the stove top it almost raised a blister. Uh-oh. Something was wrong.

Seems the thermostat had baked it’s last bake and was registering its’ displeasure by refusing to turn off.  Grr… Not an option.

Maintenance came to the rescue, and the dead thermostat was replaced once everything had cooled off.

The glass pan did scrub up fairly easily, and the meat loaf is edible, thank goodness!

But the meat loaf, once I got it out of the cooker, appeared to be more than done, registering well above the appropriate internal temp.

So while I didn’t get any sewing done, the meat loaf is edible.   😳

a life without books is…
Death in the Tunnel.  Despite the fact of the train’s not “com(ing) to a screeching halt” in the middle of the  2½ mile tunnel, I found Miles Burton’s book both challenging and boring; however, the layers of detail kept me interested.

Sergeant Cluff Stands Firm, and taciturn, as reflected by the author’s prose style. I don’t know if I like this one or not. It’s currently feeling ominous. Maybe that’s intentional, and I’ve decided its’ not best to read it before bedtime!

Rather than leaving you with the image of burnt beef and an iffy thriller,  here’s something many of us will find interesting.  And it explains my hand in the middle of the teal fabric…

❤        ❤        ❤