Vaccination Vacation #2

Hi folks, we got away again. Back to one of our favorite spots up the coast ~~ right by a lighthouse.

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Yes, it’s the same little cabins we went to a couple of years ago. We love it up there. It’s only a 1/2 day drive and we needed another ‘get away’.

Like last time we did some wonderful walks/hikes…both along the cliffs

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And through some open areas and cow fields.

We wandered around a working dock area – giggled at the Covid humor and Husband examined some crab traps.

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Also visited a wildlife preserve up in the hills where they are actively raising and breeding endangered African animal species. A small venture run with lots of love and care.

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The giraffe ate lettuce from our hands, and the young zebra was fascinated by us being fascinated in her.

Then we took a rail bike ride into the redwoods…

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They ride on the rail tracks of the tourist train that only runs a few days a week. Bikes use the tracks on the off days. Husband had the brake and we both had the pedal power. Great fun, especially with the power assist that you can kick in when going up hills.

Afterwards, Husband had to try some Fort Brag brews and I discovered a new non-alcoholic treat — Rose Lemonade. Which was just lovely.

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It was a great trip, we got lots of fresh air and exercise. Finished our last night at a social distanced restaurant overlooking Noyo Harbor in Fort Bragg — which is where they filmed Overboard with Goldie Hawn.

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We did enjoy some lazy time and I read books which I’ll share in a few days.

Until then, I hope you can enjoy your own vaccination vacation soon.

Don’t forget to bring a book.

As Always, Jack by Emma Sweeney

Whenever we travel to a different location, I like to visit a bookstore and search for local authors or books set in the area.

When we were in Coronado, California – (yikes, over two years ago now) – I bought this little book written by a woman raised on the island. I only just read As Always, Jack, having re-discovered it when shopping my home shelves during Covid.

Ms. Sweeney never knew her father, Jack, who shared a whirlwind romance with her mother via letters while stationed in the Pacific just after WWII. This slim volume, contains the actual collection of letters from her navy pilot father to her mother during the last months of WWII.

They met in Coronado and knew each other a mere two weeks before he got shipped off. Through their letters they got to know each other, and fell in love. A ten year marriage and five children were the result. To avoid any confusion, I’ll tell you that the author’s mother was pregnant with her when her father’s plane went down during a routine Navy flight.

By the time the Ms. Sweeney was old enough to start wondering about the father she’d never known, her mother had remarried. And with a reluctance to revisit the past, details about her father and their romance were scarce. Following her mother’s passing, Emma discovered a ribbon-tied packet of fragile letters and a photo — through which she finally met her father.

These letters depict far more than the typical navy pilot meets and falls in love with a beautiful California girl. Jack’s sense of humor and wit shines through. His personality is bold and cocky – as he woos, cajoles, and romances this beautiful girl from Coronado. Yet as the same time, he shows his insecurity that she doesn’t love him as much, and grows despondent when her letters don’t arrive.

Well, HALLELUJAH! FOUR letters – ranging from April 28th to May 27th – came home today and the world looks much different. One was sealed with a kiss, one was sealed with a Big kiss, one was sealed with a peck (?), and one was just sealed, which means I got spit on.

Jack tells of the foreign culture (Shanghai, Japan) boredom, lousy food, routine and when he writes about his actual flights, — he glosses over the obvious danger.

I feel pretty good, even though the immediate future isn’t so bright. Not enough of you in it.

Throughout the letters are Jack’s comical illustrations, 1940’s slang and references – from the films he sees on base to the virtues of the Fibber MacGee and Molly radio program – over which they disagree. Jack teases his girlfriend by mixing up her name, adding ten years to her age, and speculating on the number of children they will someday have.

After his release orders come through, and Jack is waiting for transport back to the States, his letters become a bit more subdued as he worries that after five months apart, that she won’t feel the same about him. But he tries to hide his jitters behind his ever resilient humor.

The only disappointment for this reader was that, through no fault of the author, As Always, Jack is one sided – only his letters survived. How wonderful it would have been to have the full correspondence. I’m sure Ms. Sweeney feels the same way.

As Always, Jack is an intensely personal gift from the author — not only by the sharing of her father’s letters, but also with the introduction and afterword she wrote to give a fuller picture of her parents endearing romance.

Independent Bookstores

Yesterday was Independent Bookstore Day, but no surprise, I think it should be every day. I am guilty of occasionally getting books from the big A – but, by and large, I do frequent the small independent bookstores in my fair city. Here’s a visual sample of those still here and thriving.

President Obama paid tribute to Independent Bookstore Day by virtually visiting several across the country. He is known for his love of reading and bookstores.

Here’s a wonderful article with embedded videos of his visits to bookstores yesterday ~~ Obama on Independent Bookstore Day

Like all bookstore lovers, he recognizes the importance of these shops and their staff, who will happily recommend a book you’ve never heard of, direct you to an undiscovered author, or just let you browse in peace.

So, let’s all celebrate, shut off the computer/phone, put on that mask, and go visit an independent bookstore near you. You’ll never know what you’ll find.

Find your nearest independent bookstore HERE

Meet Me at the Museum by Anne Youngson

A few years ago, Meet me at the Museum was pegged by NPR as “the charmer of the summer.”

That peeked my interest, and when I learned this debut novel was written by the author at 70 years old, well I knew I had to see if the publisher would grant me a copy.

I was delighted when they did just that

Shameful, but two years later, I finally got around to reading this book and found it much more than just a “charmer”.

But wait, I’ll start at the beginning.

Meet me at the Museum is written as an epistolary novel (one of my favorite style of books) and opens with a women’s letter to a Danish museum inquiring about the The Tollund Man*, whose well preserved corpse is exhibited there. I had never heard of The Tollund Man, who lived during the Iron Age, 250 BC, but I learned about him (it?) through this book. This initial inquiry turns into a correspondence between a widower and a farmer’s wife in Great Britain.

These two older adults are both in very different, and difficult, places in their lives, and through the correspondence they develop an candid and close friendship.

The lost art of letter writing is alive and well in this slim novel book. Both characters open up slowly — but eventually they drop their formal addressing and are soon using each other’s first names – Anders and Tina. They are also slow to reveal their past stories and reluctant to share their dis-satisfactions with their current lives — the walls of their privacy, slow to break down.

I found the ways they shared and expressed their viewpoints of both their own and others thoughts and behaviors insightful and often poetic. I kept stopping to mark a passage and would think — what a wonderful way to put that — such as this one.

We should look inside ourselves for fulfillment. It is not fair to burden children or grandchildren with the obligation to make us whole. Our obligation to them is to make them safe and provide them with an education. Karin can do that alone, if she chooses. She owes no one anything else. She owes it to herself to do what is best for her. When I had said this, Mary kissed me. I can’t remember the last time she did that. Or the last time I enjoyed a conversation more.

There are some lovely metaphors in Meet Me at the Museum — such as picking the raspberries in life, and a story of about a Rag Man — both treasures. (Sorry, you’ll have to read it to find out.)

As I read this book, I really enjoyed piecing together these humble character’s lives through their honest and heartfelt correspondence.

This is not a fast-paced, plot-driven novel – it is thoughtful and quiet — rich in depth and language — it was a real reading pleasure.

A digital review copy was kindly provided by Flatiron Books, via Netgalley.

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N.B. Meet Me at the Museum is reminiscent of another favorite of mine Our Souls at Night. (I know I’m getting older, but so many novels are aimed to the under 50 reading audience, and I find myself drawn to books with older, wiser perspectives on life and living

* And now for a little geeky-ness background:

The book was inspired by a poem written by Seamus Heaney – The Tollund Man – which you can read HERE. Mr. Heaney, inscribed part of the poem in the guest book at the Silkeborg Museum (Denmark) in 1973 after he gave a talk on his memories of the Irish bogs where the Tollund Man was discovered.

Even more information HERE — if you’re interested.

Take a Book, Leave a Book

All through this last year, Little Free Libraries have sustained readers. Especially when our regular libraries were closed, these little neighborhood boxes were a wonderful way to drop off and pick up books for free.

There are several of these little boxes on the walks I take. During this very looooong year, I’ve been stopping by, leaving and picking up a few extra books. And because of the pandemic, all of them had hand sanitizer — a nice touch. Even with things starting to open up, I think I will continue to drop off and, occasionally, pick up a few books here and there.

You can find these boxes near you at the Free Little Library website there’s a national map.

I’ve been working on Husband for years to build us me one for our teeny tiny front yard. Finally, he has reluctantly agreed, but I’m sure it will be awhile – he’s a busy guy

In the meantime, let’s browse a few little library designs and plans — also on their website.

What do you think?

This one?

Or maybe I’ll go large?

Or elegant

I could go artistic

But I think in the end, something like this would be perfect.

So, find a Free Little Library near you and make them one of your regular ‘go to’ stops.

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Now, I have to work on Husband for the new, next project — this time for the back garden.

I’m sure he’ll be very excited…

If you can’t leave a comment (this comment thing is a bit wonky sometimes), just email bookbarmy@yahoo.com

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie

Back in January, I watched a PBS documentary on the work and life of Agatha Christie. It turned out to be a most enjoyable hour of television. You can watch it HERE.

I was very keen on Agatha Christie’s novels as a teen, as we had them on the family bookshelves. But for some reason, in my adult years, I stopped reading them. I can’t remember why — perhaps it was the overly convoluted plots or the one-dimensional characters. I do enjoy catching the odd Miss Marple on PBS. But it’s been years (and years) since I’ve read any of her mystery novels.

This documentary re-kindled my interest, especially when it hailed The Murder of Roger Ackroyd as one of the finest mysteries ever written and went on to say it breaks all the rules of traditional mystery writing — Having just finished a very thoughtful and wonderful book (more in a future post), I went to my handy digital library system and downloaded the novel to my Kindle. Turns out it’s one of Christie’s Herclue Poirot novels.

Now, I’ve never been a fan of Poirot either in novel or television — I’ve always found his character a bit ridiculous and pretentious – sorry to all you David Suchet fans.

On the other hand, Poirot has been called one of the greatest fictional detectives of all time, and given I was committed to reading such a highly acclaimed Christie novel, I plowed right in.

There’s a certain charm of tradition that comes with Agatha Christie’s novels, and I soon settled in to the once-familiar writing style. Patiently, I waited for Poirot to complete at least one or two sentences — at least before he solved the mystery. But I soon got used to that as well.

Poirot has retired to a small English village and is happy to putter around his garden and cottage. But he is soon drawn in to investigate two deaths. One due to an overdose of a sleeping drug, which some called accidental and others suicide. The other is a more obvious murder, as the victim, Roger Ackroyd, has been stabbed. Poirot, of course, will have to use his little gray cells to solve these two seemingly unrelated deaths. He is aided in his investigation by the town doctor, Dr. Sheppard, and his gossipy sister, Caroline. We soon meet a parade of interesting characters — and most of them seem to have had a motive to kill Roger Ackroyd. Poirot eliminates them from consideration one-by-one. Until we come to the murderer, that is.

In case you haven’t read The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, I won’t give away any more that that. I will tell you it was a real surprise and quite clever ending. I finished it with a sigh of contentment, but I also kicked myself because I had considered the final murder suspect early on, but due to Agatha Christie’s deftness in offering up red herrings and other plausible paths, I abandoned my supposition far too soon. But in the end:

“Everything is simple, if you arrange the facts methodically”

The characters are, per usual, a bit one-dimensional, but perhaps it’s pandemic brain (or my older self), this time I found them enjoyable. The sister, Caroline, was a especially funny character in this novel. All-in-all I enjoyed revisiting Dame Christie’s writing.

You can read the book just relaxing on a Saturday afternoon and enjoy the twists and reveals as they come. However, I plan to re-read it to see where I was lead astray, the clues I missed, and upon second reading better appreciate the art of this brilliantly written murder mystery. Either way — it will be a satisfying experience.

Full disclosure And Then There Were None is still my most favorite Christie novel.

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I don’t know if I’m cheating to offer you this — HERE’S the film adaptation.

I am trying to decide whether or not I want to watch it. Pandemic brain says “oh why not?” But Book Barmy brain says “no, no, don’t do it! — the book is always better.”

I know, I know – this is a very trivial decision. I should be using my little grey cells on other things, like world peace, Oprah’s interview with royalty, or what to make for dinner (again!)

~~~ I’m obviously bored.