Doing what I love

"What a foolish thing he was doing, walking like this under an open sky, with a beautiful man child for any evil spirit passing by to see!... and he said in a loud voice, 'What a pity our child is a female whom no one could want and covered with smallpox as well!..'"        

– Pearl Buck, The Good Earth

You know those people who love to work because their work is what they love? That is, what they get to call work happens to be, for them, a passion. I never thought I'd be one of those people, well, not in a while. When I was six I naturally assumed it, I knew without a doubt I'd be a librarian. And now I find myself actually living like this, being required to do what I love. What is it I'm doing? In a word: reading. 

              I finished Moll Flanders on Sunday, I'll reserve judgement for after the group discussion, but I don't think Defoe quite managed what he set out to do. It is mean spirited of me, but I'd have rather she died a penitent in Newgate than live to lie another day. I start Pamela on Wednesdayuntil then I'm reading Pride and Prejudice. Yes, I have read it a million times already, but this time I have to read it. Woe is me, I've been ordered to read an Austen. I'm also reading Macbeth and various poems (Free Verse, none of which are to my fancy, so I'll spare you the names). That's all for mandatory reading.

                  On Thursday a beautiful package arrived at the post office. I picked it up and opened it with restless hands eager to stroke the spine that they knew was enclosed. Ah, the smell of books – especially books with end papers, gilded

 edges, and leather covers – can simply not be surpassed by earth, chocolate, or even bread. The book's contents are as much worth mentiong as its aroma. It is The Good Earth, by Pearl Buck, on loan to me from my grandfather,  and it is about Wang Lung and his family. Wang Lung is a chinese peasant who works hard for his food, understands the value of land, and worries, when he gets too happy, that the spirits will punsih him. The facts of his life, even the few everyday ones, are so different from anything that I have ever known that the book cannot help to be diverting, though there is no intense plot (of course, Moll Flanders didn't have much of a plot either). 

               To top off my week from paradise, I've actually cast-on for the second sock and have already knit to the heel. This is the fastest I've ever knit a sock, not to mention the closets cast-off/ cast-on time for a pair. But even this pales to dinner on Friday: quiche and apple pie toped with vanilla ice cream, all made with a friend in the spirit of anything-goes.  

                  

Last Bit of Reading.....

Before I forget entirely, let me draw your attention to two books that I was thankfully able to read before my summer ended. Both were recommended on different blogs (and no, I can't remember which ones they were).

The first one I read was The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie which was very cleverly written mystery, with a delightfully morbid sense of humor, if you like that sort of thing. In fact, I was a little afraid at first because the opening sentence describes the tweleve year old protagonist's wall paper by comparing it to dried blood. And the girl herself, Flavia, of all things, is rather scary. Her passion is poisons, and her craft is chemistry. Therefore there are lots of chemical mentionings throughout the novel, (references to herbs, referring to minerals in latin, and that sort of thing). Her family is also a little offsetting. There's no happy family here, but one complex tangle of solitude and grudges. It made me feel rather sad, though I suppose it made for a more interesting read. All in all the book was perfect for summer, with everything from murder to bicycle rides. I'll be interested to see if the promised sequels to this book can live up to it.

The second book has a title so long that I'm going to have to look it up, I just call it the Potato Peel Pie book, but that won't do here. It's full name is The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, which will make sense to the reader about ten or fifteen letters in. Yes, that's right, this is a book of letters. Ever sense I read Daddy Long Legs (by Jane Webster) and Letters From Camp (by Kate Kilse), I have been in love with letter novels*. Is there a term for them? There must be somewhere. Anyway, this book take places right after the end of WWII, but the reader gets the chance to hear many different accounts of what happened during WWII. While most of the recollections are from people who were on the island of Guernsey when it was occupied by the Germans, some of them are from survivors of labor camps. Some of the stories will leave you feeling ever so small. This made an edifying read, if I may use that word in this context. By the last third of the book, though, most of the "history" aspect disappears. If you've managed to get that far you won't mind the lighter turn it takes, you will be so interested in what happens to the characters you won't be able to put it down anyway.

But there were somethings that I didn't like about it. The main character struck me as a person I wouldn't get along with, I can't really explain why, unless it's that I'm narrowed minded and stodgy, while she is opened minded and uninhibited. More concretely, there was no end notes that said "yes these things really happened" or "while these exact things didn't happen, very similar events did occur. " I really like that in historical fiction, it makes me feel better about using novels as a basis for facts. In the end though, all my words mean very little. The only way to know if a book is really any good is to go out and read it for yourself.

*Also, one of my favorite books as a teen was Ella Enchanted, which had a section of letters between the main characters. Kate Kilse, though, will always be the measure I use to evaluate all such books.

The Great Annual Review of Summer Accomplishments

"Who reflects too much will accomplish little"

– Schiller, Wilhelm Tell, III, i (qtd. in Bartlett's) 

        Oooh, my first ever loaf of bread!

I have left my family's house again, and in leaving have had to admit how much I've left unaccomplished. I had such plans of pleated wrap skirts, neatly sewed; Cute cardigans, and colorful shrugs; Books devoured and carefully recorded... And amidst all this I was to keep a careful schedule with you, oh unseen reader.

                 I did do some things though, let's see I made an apron. It took one day to cut and sew, and only ten minuets to learn that you should not practice making button holes on an item intended for wear. The button hole debacle, combined with the ribbon fraying  fiasco, extended an otherwise short project, into the netherlands of eventually. I did finish it though, and I rather like it. I used one of my mom's aprons as a guide, but added criss-crossing straps (One of the missionaries had an apron with these kinds of straps and I adored wearing it, even if it meant doing dishes). 

                      At the start of the summer Theo and I started our fist cardigans. She's knitting Hey Teach, and I'm knitting February Lady. See my little progress bars on the side? It's the Je Ne Sais Quoi bar, the one that is only 15% complete. I'm really winging the pattern, since I'm using a lightweight linen yarn instead of the recommend wool, so I keep having to try it on to make sure I'm on the right course. Though this sounds simple, it involves finding loose string and transferring half a million little stitches onto it, and then back off it when I'm done. If I could just get over my dislike of this process I could reach the lace portion of the sweater in no time.

Another First Button Hole

            While avoiding the Lady, I finished another lonely sock, and made a Knit Picks order. City Tweed (in Plum Wine and Habanero), Comfy (in Cypress),  Imagination (Damsel and Frog Prince), and  Wool of Andes (in Pewter). 

Yum..... Yarn. Shouldn't yarn be enough of an accomplishment for anyone? 

Remembering

My memory can be pretty bad. Not about the trivial things, mind you, but about the things that really matter. Or the things I want to matter, which aren't always the same things. I know that, last year, I wanted to remember August sixth. But I probably wouldn't have if I hadn't been going through pictures of Japan. I'm trying to get my scrapbook put together (finally) and the first step is figuring out which of the 2,000 pictures I want to print out. I've narrowed it down to one hundred so far, I'm hoping to print out only twenty.

 If it means denial, then yes, I'm an optimist. 

I promised you a report on my family's trip to the Smithsonian, so here it is:

       If you are planning on going to the Smitsonian, and you are planning on taking small children, and you are not on some kind of mental medication, then let me now advise you to first consult a psychratrist. After you have been assured that your mental health is okay you should:

1. Double check your travel method. We left the house thinking we'd take the MARC train to Carrollton. We left the MARC train station disillusioned, and in our van. It turns out that it is cheaper to drive six people than ship them along in a train. The distance is pretty much the same, too.   
   
2. Take time. Little kids especially resist this rule, but older people have trouble with it too. "Three musems and one restraunt, and all in six hours? We have plenty of time."  Is what you might be thinking, but no. Plan at least two hours for each museum. And unless you plan on dining on location, make sure you give yourself plenty of time to eat too. 
3. Know what interest you. We went to the air and space museum first (which was so crowded it was hard to interest the non-readers) and, besides the imax presentation of Fly, didn't really know what to look at. We had a lot more fun at the natural history museum ( who else can't stop calling it the national history museum?), but we also had less time. The American history muesum was fun too, and reminds me of point number 4.

4. Know when things close. Though the musems stay open late, certain activites stop after 4:30. For instance, the American Museum's SparkLab, which is a hands on chemistry lab for children, was already shut down by the time we wandered over to it. Things may be less crowded after five, but remember that space comes with a price. 
5. Bring Your Happy Face. The best way to insure that your trip will go sour is to be sour. It's good to be structured during the planning stages but once you get there relax. 

If you haven't been (or haven't been in a while) you really should go. It's not only fun, it's informative. It also beats watching repeats on Hulu. 

P.S. Don't forget lesson number six. If your going to bring a camera, make sure you know how to work it.