Books Completed Since January 1

 Re-read: The Homecoming: A Christmas Story, Earl Hamner Jr.

  The History of the Christmas Card, George Buday

  A Kent Christmas, Sutton Books

  Ideals Christmas 2020, Ideals Publications

  An Extravagant Death, Charles Finch

Charles Lenox is back to present day in this 14th entry in the series.

Lenox has finished his latest case successfully, but unfortunately it's made him some enemies (he put an end to a criminal scheme run out of the Metropolitan Police) and caused trouble for Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli, who advises Lenox to leave the country for a little while. Reluctant to leave his wife Lady Jane, their precocious daughter Sophia, and new baby Clara, and carrying the Queen’s seal, which will guarantee him passage anywhere in the United States he wishes to go, Charles heads across the Atlantic. After a few days getting to know the society “names” in New York City, Charles is traveling to Boston when he is summoned by wealthy William Schermerhorn, one of the favored “400” who attend Caroline Astor’s fabled balls, to Newport, RI, where a beautiful young woman, Lily Allingham, has died, ostensibly by suicide. He is accompanied by Theodore Blaine, the lame son of another wealthy family, who is as absorbed by detective work as much as Lenox, and who helps him as he reluctantly begins to untangle the murder, along with young Fergus O’Brian, an Irish boy Lenox hires as his personal servant. He also becomes re-acquainted with Kitty Ashbrook (the woman he almost married in the last of the three recent prequels, The Last Passenger), now a widow, who guides him through the intricacies of American society. Schermerhorn’s son is a suspect in Lily’s death, as is young Lawrence Vanderbilt, who believed Lily was going to marry him when she was previously engaged to Schermerhorn.

This was a change-of-place (literally) story for Lenox, whose adventures usually take place in England. It was interesting getting his eye-view of the upper classes of America, not as glowing as fawning newspaper society pages, not as critical as Dickens on one of his tours. He feels an immediate rapport with Teddy Blaine as he was also fascinated by detective work as a boy, and also comes to enjoy the company of O’Brian, and through his eyes we note the differences and the similarities between the American and the British upper class, feel his surprise when he first sees the Newport “cottages,” and work the mystery with him.

I had my suspicions about the culprit about halfway through, and was pleased to have figured it out,  as these are  usually very complicated. I also appreciated the ending, which chronicled a difficulty in 19th century living that we would find much different today. An excellent entry in this series, which I have been reading since the first book.

  Bryant and May: Oranges and Lemons, Christopher Fowler

I would like to wander around Christopher Fowler's mind sometime, if such a thing could be managed. What fascinating nooks and crannies there must be in it, just based on this fiendish new mystery involving senior detectives Arthur Bryant and John May. The latter is still in hospital after being shot by a woman which he had a relationship with, the former has disappeared, and the Peculiar Crimes Unit is finally being broken up.

 

Until the Speaker of the House of Commons is killed in a bizarre accident involving crates of oranges, and the PCU is reassembled not to solve the crime, but to look into the man himself and his state of mind at the time of death. But Arthur Bryant, as always, sees something in the event that no one else does, and when another mysterious death takes place, he comes to believe that someone is following the old nursery rhyme "Oranges and Lemons," meaning more deaths will come. The reinstated PCU faces more hurdles than usual: their former headquarters is in worse shambles than it's ever been, their titular head Raymond Land is on the verge of collapse, and they've had an observer (read: "spy") foisted off on them, not to mention they've been joined by a curious young intern. And, as in all of their investigations, things tend to go wrong; this time their quarry seems to always be one step ahead of them. Certainly the culprit seems to be a master of misdirection.

Our protagonists are also on journeys of discovery in this volume, Bryant trying to overcome his inability to empathize with people, May to get over his gunshot wounds and come to terms with possibly facing charges due to a personal relationship. The addition of Sidney Hargreaves to the PCU mix adds another layer

  Birder on Berry Lane: Three Acres, Twelve Months, Thousands of Birds, Robert Tougias

What a piece of nonfiction to start off the year with!

 

Tougias is a birdwatcher. He doesn't juggle and rate binoculars, fly to foreign climes to check birds off a list, and compete with other birders to have the longest list—he just watches the birds in his backyard and in open land behind his home. Month by month, season by season, bird by bird, Tougias' gentle, lyrical prose guides us through the year. This is the perfect cozy book for a winter day, or a chill-out book after a harried week, or just a joy for bird lovers. Interwoven into the story is Tougias' relationship with his daughter, who is just about to "fly the nest" on her way to college, and how his interest in birds have inspired neighbors to take an interest in the wildlife and the ecological health of the area (especially when it looks as if a housing development and shopping center will encroach on the wild area behind their homes)

 

Wonderful if you are a bird lover of any stripe, or enjoy nature, or nature writing. The text is illustrated with gorgeous sketches by Mark Szantyr.

 

  The Case of Windy Lake: A Mighty Muskrats Mystery, Michael Hutchinson

Did you ever wish someone would bring back those good old fashioned kids' mysteries, like the Happy Hollisters, but with more diverse protagonists? Well, you've found your series. The Mighty Muskrats are four cousins who live on the Windy Lake Reserve in Canada: Chickadee, the only girl; Otter, an orphan raised by Chickadee's grandfather; and brothers Atim and Samuel. The local mining company has hired the required archaeologist—so that no Native artifacts or remains are disturbed—but he's disappeared, the only clue his boat found grounded on an island. The children's Uncle Levi, head of the Windy Lake police, is teaming with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to find him. The Muskrats vow to do it themselves. In a parallel plot, the kids' cousin Denice is heading up a group of activists at the mining company who say they are not following regulations and are polluting the lake. To make her point, Denice chains herself to a mooring post on the company's pier, and the angry owner wants her gone, but he is told she isn't blocking anything and she has a right to protest. The children's grandfather says she is on a vision quest and must complete it.

The story is a satisfying mix of mystery, old-fashioned kids' adventure elements like a clubhouse, and elements of the tribal culture at Windy Lake, including the method of tracking down the missing archaeologist and Denice's willingness to fight for her people's way of life and environment.

My only quibble with the book is that there are too many instances of Atim flicking his head (to keep his hair out of his eyes). It just keeps coming up in the text too many times.

 

  The Women With the Silver Wings, Katherine Sharp Landdeck

Once the United States was attacked by Japan on December 7, 1941, the entire country was thrown into war not only with Japan, but in the European theatre against the Nazis. Experienced male pilots were immediately accepted into the Army Air Forces and more were trained, but all male pilots were needed for the war effort and many more needed for non-combat duty such as ferrying aircraft, towing practice targets, etc., so the recruitment of women pilots was authorized with the urging of two noted female flyers, Nancy Love and Jacqueline Cochran. This book is the story of those flyers: Cornelia Fort, who witnessed the attack on Pearl Harbor while out on an early morning training flight with a customer; Teresa James, whose fiance and later husband "Dink" was also a pilot; Helen Richey, who eschewed being a teacher to become a stunt pilot; Dora Dougherty, who found out about the new service from a newspaper article; and more.

 

This is an immensely readable and absorbing story about the WASP, the Women Airforce Service Pilots, whose history was forgotten for so long. For the few years they flew, they were so noted that Walt Disney designed a mascot for them ("Fifinella"), but they were always resented by Congress, by male pilots, and, depressingly, by too many other women, some who considered them no better than prostitutes, were suspicious that they were lesbians for wanting to do such a "mannish" job, and were thought by a bunch of pilots' wives as seductresses—they didn't want the WASP serving with their husbands because the women pilots would seduce them! Plus there were so many misconceptions about women as pilots: that they would not fly if they had children, that they could not physically handle aircraft, that they shouldn't be allowed to fly if they had their periods. Plus I knew who Jackie Cochran was, but I had not idea she dragged herself up from such a dirt-poor childhood after which she became pregnant at age fourteen. The story of the WASP is also the story of the competition between Cochran and Nancy Love, both whom were ambitious and wanted to be the head of the organization (instead both operated as head of different aspects of the group). We get to know the women themselves, their aspirations, their training, and finally their effort to get the WASP officially designated as part of the armed services so the women could be eligible for benefits.

 

Very enjoyable history of a group of pilots little known except for those who remember World War II or are aviation buffs.

 

 Tales from the Folly, Ben Aaronovitch

When Ben Aaronovitch's "Rivers of London" Peter Grant books began to gain fans, the books were published in hardback only in England and Australia with an additional short story published as a bonus at the end. A few of these have been published online, but this is the first time they have been collected in print form. The first six stories have Peter Grant as the protagonist, including "A Rare Book of Cunning Device" that was available as a free Audible book, and the first story which tied in with the 2012 Olympics. The former is delightful and there's also a sweet story about a ghost haunting a bookshop. The rest of the stories, including the short "moments," involve other characters in the "Rivers" universe, including a Christmas story featuring brilliant Abigail and another with Vanessa Sommer from The October Man which has an unexpected ending.

If you are a Peter Grant fan, these will please immensely.

 

  Nothing Daunted, Dorothy Wickenden

In 1916, two Smith College graduates wanted more than marriage and society "flitting." So Dorothy Woodruff and Rosamund Underwood undertook a grueling journey just to go to rural Colorado and a remote village called Elkhead. While their families had all the modern conveniences like electricity and automobiles, Elkhead inhabitants lived as if they were still in the 19th century, with batten-board homes, kerosene lamps, travel by horseback, and backbreaking work. For a year, the two young women battled heat and cold, insects and lack of water, challenging teaching hurdles, and brutal winters; they also improved the lives of their students, were happily squired by men looking for brides, and experienced a whole different lifestyle from the privileged one under which they grew up.

Wickenden, the granddaughter of Dorothy Woodruff, found Woodruff's letters and memorabilia about the year, and produced this intriguing but sometimes disappointing memoir. The main story about Dorothy and Rosamund's experiences come from this source, but we read precious little about the school and the children themselves except for a few remarks about how cute they are. Those portions of the story, and how the girls lived, and the stories of the townspeople, are all very interesting. Where the storytelling bogs down is when Dorothy and Rosamund go exploring. Every time they visit somewhere, whether it's a nearby town or a mine, Wickenden gives us a complete history of the establishment, how it was set up, who ran it, etc. The first few give you a glimpse into early 20th century Western businesses; after a while they begin to read like long, tedious business prospectus publications. It looks like Wickenden ran out of personal material and needed information to make the book longer.

Still worth reading if you're into history of young society women and the limited opportunities they had, and Colorado history, the relative primitive conditions of these homestead towns.

 

  Re-read: Addie Pray, Joe David Brown

I originally picked up this book when it was known as Paper Moon after the film it begat. Paper Moon is indeed a favorite of mine, and I always admired Peter Bogdonovitch's choice to make it in evocative black and white. If you've seen the film, it takes a good deal of its script from the text, but Addie is older in the book, and the book continues on after "Moze" and Addie ditch the fancy car. If you have no experience with either book or film, Addie Pray is the story of an eleven year old girl con-artist who travels around with the man who may or may not be her father (her "mama being fast and all"). Her partner in crime is Moses "Long Boy" Pray, a charming wanderer who makes a living selling "memorial Bibles" and "memorial photographs," conning greedy people with anonymous wallets stuffed with cash, and selling cotton he doesn't have. He and Addie live a charmed life, save for a few obstacles in the way, like cootchie dancer Trixie Delight, but a deal with a bootlegger might just kill them.

This is one of my very favorite books in the entire world, and I apparently have a thing for spunky girls named Addie, what with Addie Mills along with Addie Pray. While I like the movie immensely, the book is full of additionally adventures, Addie's matter-of-fact and sometimes hilarious narration (her description of Trixie includes this gem: "...I don't guess most people looked past her bosom. Oh, my, that bosom. If Grant had met up with breastworks like that, he never would have taken Vicksburg,"), and characters like Colonel Culpepper, Amelia Sass, and Mayflower Goldsborough. It's fun and in places touching, and gives a vivid portrait of the South (the movie takes place in Kansas) during the Great Depression. If you've only seen the film, try the book; it's terrific.

 

  Passages: All-New Tales of Valdemar, edited by Mercedes Lackey

I really enjoyed this year's collection of Valdemar stories (and got a little of the bad taste for the truly dreadful Eye Spy out of my mouth). Some of the stories: a person Chosen by a Companion does not feel worthy for the job due to a past transgression; a Healer who is supposed to inherit a family estate, but who prefers his calling—will he deny his birthright?; a happy underling of a religious order does not look forward to being in charge of a daughter house; a talented artificer hides from the mother who wishes only marriage as a future; a snowstorm brings together a totally opposite pair; a deaf apprentice Mage faces her most dangerous trial; a Herald grieving after the loss of her Companion finds she can make a difference still.

 

Some of the stories are slight, like the one about a baker's apprentice, and at least one ("Tables Turned") leaves us not knowing the answer to a mystery occurring during the story. But we have a dandy story by Lackey herself about Kerowyn's beginnings with the Skybolts. So it pretty much balances out.

(But, please, Misty, no more dreadful stuff like Eye Spy. Villains should be subtle, not so blatant and recognizable. A depressing development in Lackey's most current stories.)

 

  The Happy Hollisters and the Castle Rock Mystery, Jerry West
Let's see if I can keep all the plots straight in this 23rd Happy Hollisters adventure: First a Weather Bureau instrument packet lands in the Hollisters' yard. The kids (Pete, age 12, Pam, 10, seven-year-old Ricky, and Holly, age 6, plus 4-year-old Sue) intend to mail the packet back, but hope to keep the orange parachute. Unfortunately creepy Joey Brill and his best friend Will Wilson swipe it. The kids take the instrument package to Mr. Kent at the local paper, who gives them more info about it, and also tells them about mysterious lights—perhaps, the kids speculate, UFOs!—seen at Pine Lake. One of the witnesses was a jet pilot named "Jet" Hawks (yes, I'm afraid so). While Pam and Pete are helping their dad at his store, The Trading Post, by unpacking polished rocks, they take a particularly interesting one with a streak of gold in it to a local "rock hound," Mr. Kinder, who just happens to own a worked-out quarry at Castle Rock, which is, you guessed it, on the shores of Pine Lake, and find out it contains titanium. The kids talk mom Elaine into taking them to the quarry, where they are warned off by missing car keys that reappear with a threatening message attached to them, and meet a couple of fishermen who tell them stories about a "monster" in the lake.

All this happens before chapter four! The rest of the plot involves a missing scientist; a totally unplanned trip to New York City where the kids visit their friend from Skyscraper City, Hootenanny Gandy; a trip to the top of Belvedere Castle in Central Park; Ricky almost falling from a great height (twice); a flight in an airplane for Pete and Ricky that almost ends in tragedy; and a camping trip that reveals hidden caves and a hideout no one was expecting. It frankly has the most complicated Hollister plot I've ever read!

On a positive note, Pam and Holly get to be on almost all the exciting adventures (except in NYC, where they go shopping for—ugh!—dresses), and not only do Joey and Will get scared out of their wits, but Joey actually gets punished for something he does. Now that is a novelty! Much educational info included in the adventure, about weather balloons, rocks and minerals, the New York Museum of Natural History, and spelunking. Oh, and one of the culprits finishes up his sentence with "...and I think I'd have found it if these Hollisters hadn't come along." (You mean "those meddling kids," don't you? 😁 ) Also, Jet Hawks turns out to be a neat guy with a daughter named Daphne who can match Ricky pace to pace. Win!

 

  Mighty Fine Words and Smashing Expressions, Orin Hargraves

Another fun book sale find: the subtitle is "Making Sense of Transatlantic English." It's a never stodgy, but not flip, examination of the differences between American English and British English. I have several books like this, but they are arranged like a dictionary, either AmEng to BritEng or vice versa, or both. This is grouped by subject: banking, government, everyday life, food, etc. and also explains things like the difference between the American government setup and the British government setup and the different political parties. The author isn't afraid to touch on scatological terms and warn you of words you shouldn't use in each society (don't talk about "sitting on your fanny" in England!)

Hargraves' has a sharp tongue and isn't afraid to use it, especially against American silliness, although he gets in several good licks to the Brits as well. I devour books like this one as if they were peanuts—but then they are, treats for me. Enjoyable to anyone who wants to examine the variants in the language.

  The Dark Heart of Florence, Tasha Alexander

I've been reading the Lady Emily mysteries since the first book and although I like the continuing characters, I still believe the author brought Emily and her husband Colin together much too quickly; I wish their relationship had taken time to ripen in a few more books before they were married.

Frankly, I found most of the book rather dull except for the descriptions of Florence. Once again Colin (and an associate) are investigating a break-in at Colin's newly discovered daughter's home in Florence while also doing some hush-hush work for the Crown. Emily and her friend Cecile also investigate and find that the puzzle may be linked to the murder of an Italian man, and also to strange graffiti found on the walls of the Florence home. The mystery turns out, as indicated by the alternate plotline about Mina Portinari, to be tied to events that happened during the Renaissance. Mina is yet another woman ahead of her time, educated by her grandfather in Latin and Greek and in classic writing, who finds herself betrayed by a man and who is looked at suspiciously due to her education, book smart but woefully ignorant of the real world and completely shocked when "he done her wrong."

The Italian history portions and portions of Emily's and Cecile's investigation were the parts of the book that held my interest the most, and even those were a struggle to get through.

Books Completed Since March 1

 Look Both Ways, Carol J. Perry
Her aunt's house now intact after a terrible fire the previous autumn, Lee Barrett is slowly furnishing the upper story, which Aunt Ibby has made over as an apartment for her. She spots an antique bureau on a local Salem, MA, television shopping show, available at one of the town antique shops and identical to the one that used to be in her bedroom, complete with secret drawers. At the shop she buys the bureau, but spots a few more antiques she might like and returns, only to find the proprietor dead. Her new guyfriend Pete Mondello, a Salem police detective, heads the investigation team. But even as she gets involved with the town theater group for the summer, Lee wonders if she's also in danger—the bureau once belonged to a woman who died.

This is the third of the "Witch City" books and as equally enjoyable as the first two, even if Lee's preoccupation with furnishing her nest provides a lot of extraneous text. Lee and Pete make the usual handsome leading couple, but it's the supporting characters that give it a fillip: Aunt Ibby, her gentleman friend Rupert Pennington, practicing witch River North, and of course the former witch's familiar, Lee's orange tabby cat O'Ryan. And once again Lee starts seeing visions of the type she's had since she was a child, but these are of a woman and a little dog, with the woman appearing to beckon Lee to help her—the former owner of the bureau. An ex-con, a ditzy blonde, the nephew of the former owner, and the former partner of the shop owner also figure.

I quickly narrowed down the suspects after finally discarding two red-herrings, but there's some properly spooky goings on for Salem to coincide with Lee's visions in the final chapters. These books aren't great art, but they're fun to read.

 The Roosevelts and the Royals, Will Swift
One of the supposed great faux pas of the day, 1939 America couldn't believe it when King George VI and Queen Elizabeth of Great Britain made a tour of the United States and stopped at President Roosevelt's home in Hyde Park, NY, and the President and his perambulating First Lady Eleanor fed them hot dogs! Surely this was a black eye in social hosting!

This is the story of the two "royal families" of the World War II era, the shy and stammering "Bertie," great-grandson of Queen Victoria, who became King of Great Britain when his older brother David, a.k.a. Edward VIII, abdicated the throne to marry divorcee American Wallis Warfield Simpson, and his supportive wife Elizabeth Bowes-Lytton, and the "squire of Hyde Park," Franklin D. Roosevelt, confined to a wheelchair due to polio suffered as an adult, and his determined wife Eleanor, who grew up considered an ugly duckling and who became famous for her social causes. Alternate chapters chronicle the history of both couples, the desperate event that made them friends (World War II), and finally their futures after the combined forces of the U.S. and Britain withstood Adolf Hitler's and Tojo's bloody war machines.

I'd wanted this book since I saw it on the stacks and was not disappointed. No, you won't get the complete saga of the U.S. and Britain in the war, nor complete biographies of the four particulars, but it's a fine summary of the two couples and their parallels (Bertie to Eleanor, and Franklin to Elizabeth). I found it a great read, and it's a good starting place if you are interested in either of the families.

 Dear Mrs. Bird, A.J. Pearce
No sooner do I say in at least two reviews that chick-lit is not for me than this book shows up and I fall in love with it.

Emmy Lake and her best friend Marigold "Bunty" Tavistock, along with William, Bunty's fiance, have known each other since childhood. Now they are living in Blitz-battered London, where Bunty works for the War Office, William is part of the fire brigade, and Emmy is a secretary. Emmy's secret longing is to be a Lady War Correspondent, and when she sees a situations-wanted advert for a writing job with a publisher who runs a London newspaper, she thinks this is her Big Chance. Unfortunately it's only after she's quit her old job and taken the new that she realizes she will be working for the old fashioned "Women's Friend" magazine, screening the letters for famed "agony aunt" Henrietta Bird.

But as she reads the letters, Emmy realizes times are changing. So many women want to know what to do about their feelings of loneliness while their husbands serve, or about girls who are resisting the urge to send off their boyfriends to war in a special way, subjects Mrs. Bird deems Unpleasant and not fit for publication. Surely they need answers, too? And since Mrs. Bird mainly has her eye on her own war work and doesn't even look at the column after its published, why can't Emmy consult her own feelings and the work of other agony aunts to help the correspondents her superior ignores?

Emmy's upbeat, lively narrative in the face of appalling destruction and loss of life make this one a winner. Even though in her innocent youthfulness she makes simple gaffes and one terrible error in judgment, her big heart is in the right place. You want to cheer with her even as you realize she's headed for trouble. Plus I could hear her enthusiastic narration in the voice of Emer Kenny, who plays a character coincidentally named Bunty in the Father Brown television series.

It's also a great tale about how people Carried On during the Blitz. So very much recommended!

 Why We Eat What We Eat, Raymond Sokolov
I picked this up because March was National Nutrition Month and the subject looked interesting. It was pretty interesting. I don't like cookbooks, but I do like books about the history of food. This one is about how the European arrival in the "New" World changed both the cuisine of the Americas and of other countries. For instance, what we think of as "French cooking" or "Italian cooking" only exists because of foodstuffs brought over to Europe from America after 1492—tomatoes, of course, form the base of classic "Italian cooking" and there were no tomatoes in the Old World until after the 1500s. (Heck, even into the late 1700s they were looked on with suspicion.) Also, now you find tortillas or variations thereof all over the world, but corn (maize) was solely a New World product at one time. A fairly absorbing chronicle of cross cultures, more interesting if you are a foodie.

 Victoria's Daughters, Jerrold M. Packard
I found this book at the library book sale just as season three of Victoria was ending, a perfect antidote to the compelling but sometimes very sweetened (especially in Victoria's attitude to her eldest son) version of the queen as played by Jenna Coleman. The book follows the fortunes of Victoria's five daughters: Vicky, the bright eldest child whose fairy-tale love story with Frederick of Prussia would turn into horrible misery; Alice, the Prince of Wales' staunchest ally in his formative years, and who devoted her life to good works as she mourned having a husband who she felt no kinship with; plain Helena (Lenchen) who married for love of an eccentric husband who agreed to live with the Queen and Prince Albert; talented Louise, who restrained her artistic leanings in order to please her mother, but who still rebelled in marrying a lowly Scottish duke; and "Baby," little Beatrice who the Queen expected to stay by her side through her lifetime, and who did until she rebelled and found a husband to free her.

Much is written about "the playboy Prince" of Wales, but this is a nice glimpse into the distaff side of Victoria's household. I'd learnt a lot about Vicky (and her painful later life with her disparaging son who would become the villain Kaiser Wilhelm of the Great War) through the miniseries Edward the Seventh, and also a little about Alice, but the younger three girls rather disappeared into the woodwork. Louise now has a book devoted to her life, which I would like to read sometime.

 Death at the Seaside, Frances Brody
Private inquiry agent Kate Shackleton has seen off her partner and her landlady on August holidays and arrives in the seaside town of Whitby (known for the famous Whitby jet, a gem used in mourning jewelry) for her own time off; this is with a great deal of nostalgia, as she and her late husband were in Whitby when Gerald bought her wedding and engagement rings. In fact, the same jeweler still has a shop there. So after arranging to see an old friend, Alma, who lives in Whitby, and checking into the Royal Hotel, Kate walks to the jewelry shop—only to find the jeweler dead. Worse yet, Kate discovers Alma appeared to be in love with the jeweler, Jack Phillips, and that Alma's missing daughter, Felicity, was one of the last to see him alive.

In alternating chapters, we follow the adventures of Felicity, who, along with the young man who's sweet on her, has gone out in an old boat to find her estranged father, whom she is certain is living nearby.

I didn't enjoy this entry in the series as well as some of the previous ones. I found Alma intensely irritating, with her "sight" and the descriptions of her little fortune-telling booth left me claustrophobic. I didn't like the way she used Kate, nor the way Kate seemed to daydream her way through the mystery, at least until Jim Sykes and Mrs. Sugden show  up to help her. My favorite part of this book was the recreation of the peaceful seaside life of a 1920s English resort, with the cool breezes, piers, rock candy, summery cottages, wooden fishing craft, laid-back summer attitude, and other relicts of a bygone age. You can almost hear the wind blowing and the ships creaking in harbor as they sway in the tide.

 On Her Majesty's Frightfully Secret Service, Rhys Bowen
Now that her lover Darcy's father has been cleared of murder (see previous book), Georgiana Rannoch must clear one more hurdle to marry him: remove herself from the line of succession to the throne of England ("Georgie" is 35th in line and can't marry a Catholic if she remains there). So she approaches her distant cousin Queen Mary to help her, only to have the queen send her on a secret mission while Darcy is away: she's to attend a country house party where the Prince of Wales (the future Edward VIII) will be with his American lover, the odious Wallis Simpson, and make sure the two aren't planning to elope. Luckily this party is in the same Italian town where Georgie's best friend Belinda has gone to hide until she gives birth. Georgie also finds out that the hostess of the party is none other than an old schoolmate.

Georgie tires me out in this book: she's continuously sent to and fro until she can locate Belinda, arrive at the party in a ladylike manner, and then has to keep an eye on her Cousin David and the imperious Wallis. All is not well at the estate, either: Georgiana's often childlike and always demanding mother and her German husband are attending the same party, along with some prominent Nazis, who are meeting in an old outbuilding for what Georgie believes may be treasonous reasons.

Again, you may spot the culprit from the beginning: the fun is watching Georgie negotiate each new obstacle thrown in her path, if not with aplomb, at least with ingenuity. I especially enjoyed Georgie's growing friendship with Camilla, the old schoolmate she once regarded as kind of a drip, but who possesses strength and depths Georgie would not have dreamed of when they were at school. A series of somewhat improbably adventures occur (the sequence in the marble temple comes immediately to mind), but it's all in fun and sleuthing.

 The Children's Hour: Favorite Mystery Stories (Volume 7), edited by Mathilda Schirmer
When I was "knee-high to a grasshopper," I used to play with a friend whose older brother owned a set of the Collier "Junior Classics," a set of books of short stories, each volume around a common theme. I confess to the many times I snuck out of playing some boring girlie game on the excuse of using the bathroom and instead crept upstairs to read a story out of "The Animal Book." This volume of The Children's Hour, a similar set of books that I didn't know of, consists of mysteries from "stories for younger readers" to "stories for older readers." Frankly I found the stories for the younger kids more entertaining; most of them were about a brother and sister falling upon some type of puzzle and solving it. One story takes place in Australia and includes a youthful aborigine hero, another is a chapter from Homer Price where Homer and his pet skunk Aroma capture bank robbers, and the prize here is an Augusta Heuill Seaman novella, The Strange Pettingill Puzzle. It's so cool watching free-range kids canoeing, horseback riding, studying birds, and generally relying on their own smarts instead of being in organized activities and fixated on electronics.

The stories for older children are a tad more conventional: two Sherlock Holmes adventures ("Blue Carbuncle" and "Red-Headed League"), Poe's interminable "The Gold Bug" (read by me for the first time and not understanding why everyone loves it), and a couple more. "Miss Hinch" is an interesting tale about the titular female criminal and her pursuit, including by a successful female detective. The other exciting tale is "The Adventure at the Toll Bridge," about a gang who try to escape but hadn't reckoned on the youthful custodian.

I quite enjoyed this, and discovered that all the books are available on Archive.org's Open Library: The Children's Hour library

 The Life-Changing Manga of Tidying Up, Marie Kondo and Yuko Uramoto
Chiaki is a bright young woman almost "thirty-something" who works in an office and lives in a hopelessly untidy small apartment. She meets her handsome young neighbor only because she keeps forgetting to take out her garbage and the smell is wafting over to his apartment, so he comes over to complain. She thinks her untidiness is hopeless but she truly wants to change, so she calls in "KonMari."

If you've been curious about all the kerfluffle of the Marie Kondo/Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up conversation flitting about talk shows and social media, this is the most fun way to learn what Kondo's philosophy of paring down your possessions to only the ones which "spark joy" is all about. Illustrated are Kondo's signature clothing-folding tricks (although the fitted sheet trick isn't included; it's online, so check it out) and her method of sorting by category, not by room, and by leaving sentimental items until last, when you have learned how to sort and discard other items. The text and illos are light and often amusing, imparting a lesson while giving an enjoyable read.

I really enjoyed this, and there's even a psychological twist to Chiaki's story.

 Marilla of Green Gables, Sarah McCoy
I've been wanting to lay my hot little hands on this since I heard of it and finally borrowed it from the library, not wanting to wait for the paperback. This is McCoy's version of the early life of Marilla (and also Matthew) Cuthbert, before Anne Shirley entered their lives, opening when thirteen-year-old Marilla, helping her mother Clara prepare for a new baby, meets her mother's twin sister Elizabeth "Izzy" Johnson, a dressmaker in St. Catherines, for the first time. Marilla already knows her own mind, but her entire world revolves around Green Gables, and Izzy helps to widen her experience, as does her growing friendship with a neighbor boy, John Blythe.

McCoy tells a good tale here, prompted by Marilla's revelation to Anne late in Anne of Green Gables that John Blythe was once called her beau. McCoy also paid attention to the books (unlike Budge Wilson, who admitted when she wrote Before Green Gables that she never actually read the book!), so the Avonlea folks are all as we expect them, and she gives a great portrait of young Rachel White, who will become Rachel Lynde. It's also possible that the political story that is woven into the last half of the book could have happened to Marilla and Matthew. However, it's revealed in Anne that Matthew said he'd never "gone courting" when in this book he does, and also Matthew says to Marilla at one point in Anne that there was no reason for them to raise her as austerely as they had. The little romance Matthew almost has is quite in character, but although Matthew and Marilla do have some bad things happen to them in the course of the novel, their childhood apparently was far from dark: even their stern Presbyterian father seems nice. So it is a bit of a diversion from the original background as presented by Montgomery. However it did not make me all that unhappy, and McCoy's writing was quite lovely. I was just sad about the fight that broke up John  and Marilla, too close to current events for my taste.

Books Completed Since February 1

 Bryant and May and the Bleeding Heart, Christopher Fowler
I first got involved in the quirky world of Fowler's aging police detective partners in 2010, reading the first book, Full Dark House, while on vacation.

And here I am, still hooked, in this eleventh outing, which may be the best yet.

The Peculiar Crimes Unit has a new Public Liaison Officer, an up-and-climbing executive type with the improbable name of Orion Banks, who's determined to whip Bryant and May and their misfits into shape. When a teenage boy who invites a girl he likes to a cemetery for a bit of star-gazing sees what he thinks is a corpse walking—a corpse who says "Ursa Minor" to him, no less—and reports it to the police, it sets in motion a series of events that includes a suicide victim-cum-zombie, his grieving wife and sullen son, an archer, an occultist professor, Jack Renfield's teen daughter, and a group of resurrectionists (graverobbers who use corpses for medical purposes)—in other words, just up the PCU's alley. If that wasn't all, Banks also asks them to look into the mystery of the missing ravens from the Tower of London.

Threaded within the plot is Arthur Bryant's sudden obsession with death and a childhood fear he must conquer before he can make sense of the convoluted mystery they've been handed. Plus there is the usual daft workday environment like holes in the floor and electrically-charged towel racks, Crippen's kittens, Bryant's pal Maggie Armitage the witch, and Fowler's exhaustive knowledge of and fascination with old London. Do you know what the difference is between a graveyard and a cemetery? How the ravens at the Tower are kept there? Much fascinating info is imparted as the clues fly fast and furious.

BTW, was amused to see how Fowler has created doubt again to Bryant's age, so people won't be puzzling why these guys haven't been forcibly retired yet. If you've read Full Dark House, you'll know what I mean.

 The Lost Continent: Travels in Small-Town America, Bill Bryson
I was about to buy Bryson's newest, The Road to Little Dribbling, having enjoyed his earlier Notes from a Small Island, but the reviews about bitter humor gave me pause. Did I actually want to spend the money to buy this in hardback? Why not instead read one of the three Bryson books I still had in my "to be read" pile? So I picked up this one. The premise: Bryson, after years of living in England, comes home to the midwest (Iowa) in 1988 and drives around most of the country in a little Chevette (one of which I had once), commenting about the odd and the unusual.

Well, there's some of that, some nice descriptions of a couple of national parks, and some nostalgia about family vacation trips when he was a kid. The rest is an endless kvetch, kvetch, kvetch about everything: the bad food, the ugly homes, the tourists—Bill, Bill, Bill, you go to national parks and tourist areas and then complain about how crowded they are; should they be empty, just for your pleasure?—looking for some Shangri-La of a small town. The funny part is that he travels through the Midwest and the South—badmouthing everyone in the latter as if it were still 1955; he is astonished, apparently, that in 1988, black people and white people actually eat together in the South!—and can't find the ideal small town, then when he gets into New England and finds some picture-perfect ones, heavens, they're too perfect.

Okay, I know he's supposed to be commenting wryly on the American scene, and his observations on tourist traps are spot on, but really, after pages and pages of this stuff, can you blame the reader if he or she is the one who wants to kvetch, kvetch, kvetch right back? Along the way he trashes country music, Mexican music, farmers, hillbillies...and heaven forbid that you are female and overweight! It seems every few pages or so he goes into a diatribe about obese women, which is rich considering he describes himself as overweight several times. I guess he gets a pass. Plus, as far as I can tell, the only things he liked that he saw were a few scenic spots, Cooperstown, and the Henry Ford Museum/Greenfield Village. He writes off Williamsburg because, you know, some of the buildings are reconstructed; doesn't like that all the treasures of the Smithsonian are now in separate buildings instead of piled higgledy-piggledy in the Castle to discover in a corner; and is sour because most places don't look like the pictures.

Unless you like endless jokes about fat women, motor homes, and stereotypical waitresses, borrow this from the library, okay?

 The Sayers Swindle, Victoria Abbott
This second of the Jordan Bingham "book collector" mysteries opens a few weeks after The Christie Curse ends. Karen Smith, the bookseller badly injured in the previous mystery, is still recovering as Jordan tries to track down the first edition mysteries that disappeared from the library of her employer, Vera Van Alst, sold off by a previous Van Alst employee. Karen remembers enough of the sale of Vera's precious Dorothy L. Sayers' first editions (she did not know the books were stolen) to lead herself and Jordan to the home of Randolph Adams—where both women suspect that the courtly elderly man is being drugged, and possibly duped, by his relatives/caretakers. In trying to find out the truth (and get Vera's books back by swapping a different valuable first edition for the Sayers volumes), they find an unlikely ally in one of Jordan's not-quite-legal uncles, hyperactive Kevin Kelly.

A bouncy, not-quite-serious storyline propels this newest Jordan adventure along, with Jordan being involved in some strange situations involving "Officer Smiley," the policeman that always turns up when she's in trouble, and Karen's cute pug, Walter. Don't expect any literature close to a classic Sayers or Christie; this is just a nice cozy involving a likeable heroine, some interesting relatives, and hidden passages.

 Death by Petticoat, Mary Miley Theobald
For history geeks: 63 myths about American history that get too much airing, even at living history museums. Theobold tells us that not all that many colonial women died from burns from their long skirts catching fire, not all that many men owned wigs, women didn't eat arsenic to lighten their complexions, and no, there was not a closet tax in colonial times, among others. This is just a matter-of-fact listing of inaccuracies; there's a bibliography at the back, but the book itself is light reading, with about half of it color photographs from Colonial Williamsburg. I would recommend finding this used or on remainder; however, if you're a history lover, you will probably enjoy.

 Antidote to Murder, Felicity Young
In this second of the Dr. Dody McClelland books, Dody is still working as a coroner—or rather as a glorified note-taker in the coroner's office, where the famous pathologist Dr. Bernard Spilsbury is "behind" her, but still caters to her male colleague Henry Everard, who hates Dody and wants her gone. In her second career as volunteer doctor for the poor women of London, Dody treats a woman who has given herself lead poisoning to try to abort an unwanted child by giving her a lead antidote and bromide to help her sleep. The next thing she knows, the woman is dead of a botched abortion and Dody is accused of performing it, as she advocates birth control, something even her suffragette younger sister thinks of as just as bad as abortion. In the meantime, the lead tablets taken by the pregnant woman are also being used to poison unwanted children. Who is giving them out?

This is a reasonably complex mystery in which Dody's relationship with retired soldier/Scotland Yard detective Matthew Pike turns sour after he flees surgery on his bad knee and his investigation of a brothel intertwines with Dody's accusation. The poverty of London and the prejudice of the times toward women professionals, the poor, and women's suffrage is clearly illustrated, and there is a real sense that Dody will be convicted as an abortionist. I was very surprised at Florence McClelland's attitude toward birth control; I would have thought suffragettes would have had a different interpretation of it.

 Born on a Mountaintop: On the Road with Davy Crockett and the Ghosts of the Wild Frontier, Bob Thompson
Stop. If you are looking for a biography of Davy Crockett, this isn't one, which several Amazon reviewers apparently didn't get. This book is about the real David Crockett (he hated being called "Davy"), the legends about him, and how his legends began (and no, it didn't start with Walt Disney; there were already Crockett legends before he left for the Alamo, some of them created by David himself).

Thompson didn't start out as a 1950s Davy Crockett fan; his young daughter fell in love with Crockett after hearing the Disney "Ballad of Davy Crockett" on a Burl Ives CD. She and her sister both got interested in Crockett and Andrew Jackson. This led Thompson, after his daughters were grown, down the "Davy Crockett trail" from Tennessee to Washington, DC to a tour of New England and finally to the Alamo, where people still argue about where Crockett was when he died (or if he even died in battle at all or was later captured and executed). He discovers Crockett scholars, Crockett fans, more Crockett memorabilia than you can shake "Old Betsy" at, and conflicting reports about everything from when Crockett officially left home to where he crossed into Texas on the way to San Antonio. The narration is crisp, brisk, and occasionally funny (but never demeaning) and if I had any quibble with this book it's when Thompson states a fact, then adds "That's how it happened....maybe" or some variant one too many times, his way of trying to tell you there are as many theories as there are legends.

I was born the year the "Disney Davy Crockett" merchandising train died, so I've never been Crockett-crazy, but I really enjoyed this book!

 Little Woman in Blue: A Novel of May Alcott, Jeannine Atkins
So many books have been devoted to Louisa May Alcott, both biographic in nature and even fiction written around the character, that little time has been spent on yet another Alcott who was famous in her own right: May, who became the inspiration for Amy in Little Women. While May Alcott was never renown for her illustrations (her drawings for Louisa's first edition of Little Women were universally panned), she did gain some acclaim for her painting and was, unlike Amy, to live in Europe and paint for a living, and served as inspiration for sculptor Daniel Chester French, who was one of her art students.

Atkins' May is portrayed as a hard-working artist and part of the Alcott family, tirelessly nursing Louisa through her bout with typhoid after she nursed injured soldiers in Civil War-era Washington, DC, who resents when Louisa chooses to make the fictional Amy give up her art for marriage. She carries on a brief flirtation with Julian Emerson, son of family friend Ralph Waldo Emerson, and finally falls in love with a man some years her junior while in Europe.

I bought this because I am always interested in the Alcotts and loved having a different view of the family's life, but at the same time "domestic drama" isn't what I usually read. I also found the choppy structure of the sentences wearying. I wanted to beg the author for some compound sentences and subordinate clauses. Still, a nicely told story about a historical figure not usually in the public eye.

 Re-read: The Happiness Project, Gretchen Rubin
Since I had to buy another copy since my first has vanished into thin air. (The original was the only book I ever bought at the Borders store on Ponce de Leon Road, which closed not a month later, too.) ::grump::

I was curious when this book first came out, enough to go to Amazon.com to read reviews. Some of them were downright vituperative: "shallow, silly, stupid," all came up at various times. A frequent theme reoccurred: "What does Gretchen Rubin have to be unhappy about? She says...brags, some people insist...about her wonderful husband, kids, family, job, home.

I think they missed "the piont," as they used to joke on Ask the Manager. Rubin admits her blessings of home, family, and work right off, but wonders: "If my life is so good, why am I so unhappy so often?" This is Rubin's discovery of herself, and how making herself happy actually helps her family and friends attain happiness as well. She doesn't perfect anything, backslides and recovers, admits selfishness and frustration, but persists. It's her journey into what works for her, but any "happiness project" you do for yourself must center around your own needs and situations. I found her writing bright and interesting, and, while there is some repetition, it is usually to emphasize key points, not to fill space.

I felt inspired by Rubin's journey and hope to profit from it. I may never have a super job in New York City or adorable children, but happiness can be attained on many levels. Your mileage may vary.

 The Cold Dish, Craig Johnson
A friend of mine is enamored with the Longmire mystery series now running on Netflix, and I tried it out not long ago and enjoyed it. Of course then it started me wondering what the books were like, and the next thing you know I had a book of short stories [to be reviewed in March], but finally turned up this, the first book in the series.

Walt Longmire is the longtime sheriff of Absaroka County, Wyoming, with a territory that extends to the Buckhorn Mountains and includes Native American reservation land. Since the death of his wife, Martha, he's a bit like a broken clock spring, leaving much of his work to his deputy sheriff and subordinates. His closest friend is Henry Standing Bear, who runs the Red Pony, a local "watering hole." As the book opens, a young man who, with three friends, sexually assaulted a learning-disabled Cheyenne girl several years earlier, is found murdered. Walt would prefer his last years as sheriff be as quiet as possible, but the mystery just refuses to let go. It soon becomes obvious that someone is gunning for the remaining three young men.

This isn't just a mystery, but a portrait of an aging man whose grief has taken overtaken him, and a look into a society millions of miles and philosophies away from the big cities and suburban sprawl of the east and west coasts. Absaroka County is as much a character as its occupants, and Longmire more than some square-jawed cowboy lawman with a gun. The friendship between Walt and Henry Standing Bear is outstanding—"worth the price of admission," as the saying goes. I'll definitely be reading more Longmire mysteries.

For L'Engle Lovers

The Madeleine L'Engle reread

Seven Books to Read Every Christmas

Please note most of these are out of print. If you're interested, hit bookfinder.com, Amazon Marketplace, or e-Bay. And, why yes, some of them are children's books. Some of the best books ever are children's books, and you don't need to be a child to read them.

 A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
You've probably seen this as a movie or a television special. The story was done as a silent film as far back as the turn of the century. The first animated television Christmas special was about Dickens' Carol, Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol to be specific. And perhaps a Dickens novel is not what you want to tackle; after all, isn't he voluble?

Fear not, Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol in seven weeks, as a message to more fortunate Londoners to help the poor. For its brevity, it's full of memorable descriptions and even more memorable characters—who even marginally familiar with English literature doesn't know who Ebenezer Scrooge is? Dickens' descriptions of London at Christmas both good—the lovely Christmas market, the love exuded by the Cratchits—and the bad—the realities of poverty in 19th century England—make vivid pictures that remain in your mind long after you finish reading. An even better reason to read the tale: even the longest film adaptation of the story doesn't contain all the aspects of the novel. Did you know on his travels with the Spirit of Christmas Present Scrooge visited a lighthouse? a coal mining village?

 The Cottage Holiday, Jo Mendel
The Tuckers series of children's books was published in the 1960s by Whitman: father, mother, five rambunctious children, a big shaggy dog and a cat. Most of the novels are typical children's adventures (befriending the new neighbors, spending a summer at the beach or with relatives, participating in sports). But this Christmas story is a little gem.

Seven-year-old Penny is often sick and wonders about her place among her healthier, boisterous siblings (sixth-grader Tina, aspiring cook; twins Terry and Merry; and younger brother Tom). After being ill before Christmas and unable to participate with her siblings in a school Christmas program, she wishes the family might spend the holidays at their cottage at the lake. To her delight her doctor declares her well enough, and the family arrives prepared for nonstop fun for the holiday. Instead, the children are propelled into an adventure involving a marauding cougar and the danger it brings to a stranded woman. The kids play in the snow, find a Christmas tree, bake pies, and do other fun activities that don't involve staring at a screen or manipulating a game controller. But the heart and soul of this book is Penny's search for her own special talent, something that will serve her while she "sits still and takes pills," and it gives the novel a sweet, timeless quality with an ending that will leave tears in your eyes.

 Sleigh Bells for Windy Foot, Frances Frost
This is one of a series of four books about a Vermont farm family, the Clarks, in the late 1940s that vividly brings life on a small family property alive. The Clarks raise much of their own food, as well as supply milk to the local dairy and sugar off in the spring, and their bountifully old-fashioned Christmas is like a greeting card come to life: the children snowshoe in the woods to find natural decorations for the house, eldest Toby rebuilds a sleigh to use behind Windy Foot, his dapple-grey pony, and also helps defend the stock when a bear prowls the neighborhood while waiting for mail-order gifts to arrive, the family goes into town for shopping at a delectable general store and caroling; there is snow, skiing, ample food from the farm, and even an unexpected, special gift for Toby's younger sister. In addition, there's excitement involving a marauding bear and a sports accident. The best part is the family warmth and love which encircles one like a blanket and you're sorry when the final page turns and you have to leave the Clarks on Christmas evening.

 Christmas After All, Kathryn Lasky
As the Depression deepens, Minnie Swift and her family are feeling the pinch more and more. They are closing down rooms in their home to save coal, eating an endless series of almost meatless meals seasoned with quantities of cheese, and noticing with reluctance that their father comes home from work earlier every day and locks himself in the attic with his typewriter.

And then a distant cousin comes to stay with them, Willy Faye, a girl raised in the Dust Bowl and now an orphan. Minnie discovers she's never seen a movie, never heard of Buck Rogers, never eaten a peach. So she figures that Willie Faye will have a lot to learn from her family. She doesn't realize what the family will learn from Willie Faye.

Kathryn Lasky based the characters in this book on her own grandparents and aunts and uncles, and one of the sisters' boyfriends on her father, and her affection for all of them shows. Minnie's family includes a precocious only brother who builds radio sets at the same time he makes childish jokes and a fashion-designer-in-the-making sister who can make stunning, novel outfits from scraps of fabric and old clothing. The story rings with hardship, or the family associates with those dealing with hardship (several chapters take place in a Hooverville), and yet they manage to rise above it.

If there's one problem with the story, it's the slightly fanciful epilog (all the "Dear America" books have one, which chronicles the later lives of the characters). I would have been pleased if the future turned out well, but having it turn out wildly successful for everyone was a bit much. Still, the main tale itself is magic.

 The House Without a Christmas Tree, Gail Rock
Based on the 1970s Christmas special by the same name, this is the story of 10-year-old Addie Mills, a smart, spunky fifth grader in the small town of Clear River, Nebraska, who is being raised by her laconic, introverted father and loving grandmother. Addie has wanted a Christmas tree during the holiday season for years, but her father has always refused on the grounds that it's a waste of money because they have Christmas at a relative's home. It's only when Addie wins a tree in a school contest that the real truths come to the fore.

This is a lovely short novel about an intelligent girl and a father who could have been labeled "mean" or "cruel." Instead, we slowly find out some family secrets. The story also paints a simpler time when kids shopped at drugstores for a beloved teacher's gift, homemade decorations sufficed on a Christmas tree, and the big treat for an afternoon was baking gingerbread men.

(I don't usually push DVDs with my books, but the DVD of this story is well worth finding. Lisa Lucas is perfect as slightly bossy Addie, Mildred Natwick properly motherly as her grandma, but Jason Robards shines as the withdrawn father with a secret heartache.)

 The Homecoming, Earl Hamner Jr.
This short novel formed the basis for a television movie of the same name, which became the pilot film for the long-running Depression-set series The Waltons, about a Virginia backwoods family poor in material goods but rich in love. If you've seen the film, you will still find in the book points of interest, as not only were most of the characters' names changed for the movie, but some of them were slightly softened for 1970s television: for instance, in the book the father character is a bit of a gambler and drinker (although not to his family's detriment!) and the "John-Boy" of the book smokes a cigarette while hunting for a Christmas tree on his own. While the movie is much more rough-hewn than the series was, the book is even more realistic, giving a truer portrait of the harshness of the times.

 The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, Barbara Robinson
This is a deserved Christmas classic about a family of six undisciplined (literally), half-wild children who are growing up with little supervision and who are the terrors of their elementary school. The Herdman children's divorced mother works double shifts at a factory to support them, and they receive little love and much fear from their classmates. Then the whole kit'n'caboodle of them get involved with the local church's Nativity play.

This is a very funny novel, not just from what happens when the kids join the Christmas pageant, but from some pointed commentary from the narrator, an unnamed child whose mother is in charge of producing the pageant. Her quirky descriptions of her friends (including one little girl she describes as "so squeaky-clean that she had dishpan hands by the time she was four years old"), events at home (I particularly love her father's attitude), and the pageant preparations are sharp and funny. This is a feel-good book with a message that is handled humorously and in a non-heavy-handed manner.

Wow, Check It Out!

I didn't know about this; must order it!

A previously unpublished Madeleine L'Engle novel: The Joys of Love