#booksIlove: children's books

Pat was an Anglophile. She loved everything that came out of Britain. Not so much Ireland, except for their writers.

Throughout our childhood, we were inundated with books written by British writers, such as Winnie-the-Pooh, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Railway Children, and The Swallows and Amazons series. (I read them over and over again.) If you looked at our bookshelves during our childhood, they were all British authors, except for the Anne of Green Gables series.

As an adult, I have always wondered why she gave us these series rather than children's books by American writers*. I made up a complicated explanation: it had to do with her disparaging anything American. Recently, I finally figured it out. The British series were children's books from her childhood. That's all.

Like many parents, she wanted to share her childhood with us.

(* I only discovered the Little Life on the Prairie series when my dear friend, Karen, told me about them when I was an adult.)

#booksIlove: Running in the family

Title: Running in the family, by Michael Ondaatje
When I read it first: during the phase I was quite obsessed with him in the 1980s

Running in the Family is the perfect book for anyone who dreams of life in exotic countries farfar away in other times. Those of you who (half-) lived in smoldering suburbs or small-town insignificance, like I did, will be enthralled with Ondaatje's autobiography.

It reads simply and powerfully. It is as if Ondaatje was always a great writer, a force to reckon with, even at the beginning of his career. He took a pause in his fiction writing and looked at himself and his family through that rarified lens of his creative soul.

I envy anyone who has not gone down the rabbit hole of his writings. What a discovery that is! I remember pacing myself with his books, not wanting them to come to an end. There was a part of me that wanted to wolf them down in one swallow, but thankfully, there was also another part of me that wanted to slowly savour every word separately.

Not your strong suit

I am reading "Falling through space" again. In one of her entries, Ellen Gilchrist writes about spending a day taking care of her two young grandchildren. She only manages half a day before enlisting her mother into battle. 

It is a very light, self-depreciating piece. At the end she ponders on the day and asks her mother how she (Ellen) managed to keep care of her kids day-in-day-out. Her mother dryly answers that she (Ellen) was never good at it. It was not her strong suit.

I wonder if any of us feel that mothering was our strong suit. Probably not. Not if we are honest with ourselves. 

Delighting in summer

Cannot stop myself
Beautiful taste to my tongue
Caramel ice cream. 

My cabin in the woods (2/2)

Daylight does not trumpet in with the sharp blues of passing clouds. It is the shades and shadows dancing across green leaves and moss that catch my attention. It is the changing browns of branches and tree trunks holding all the weight of pouring rains. There is no silence, yet there comes a pure stillness of mind and body.

Jetlag

Middle in the night
2 am and I'm awake
To rewire my brain. 

#booksIlove: Falling through space

Title: Falling through space, Ellen Gilchrist

When I first read it: when it first came out in 1987

Another author Pat gifted me. Pat always said she loved Gilchrist because she epitomized all that was wonderful about writers from the South (southern States). Gilchrist is a master in exploring the niceties and complexities of southern etiquette, all the while injecting moments of earthy vulgar brilliant humor. 

Falling through space is a journal. It is a stunning and insightful work. Yet, everything she wrote is worth reading.

Past love

A dream so vivid
One leaf in my memory
Sadly, it is gone.

Animals we saw

Reflecting on the various animals we saw over the last two weeks or so: 3 deer, 2 loons, 3 bald eagles, numerous turkey vultures and great blue herons, slew of seagulls and smaller birds (sorry no names), dragonflies, and the most beautiful hummingbirds, 2 dead snakes, and one swimming snake.

We almost saw bear and elk; only because we saw their poop.

#booksIlove: Teaching a stone to talk

Title: Teaching a stone to talk, Annie Dillard

When I read the book for the first time: 1982

This is a collection of ideas from Annie Dillard. On the back cover it says, this book "explores the world of natural facts and human meanings". The entries are nothing other the the meanderings of a creative Geist.

Annie Dillard is one of the many marvelous authors that Pat introduced me to. She "discovered" Dillard early on in her writing career and shared with me all of her works. You can read anything and everything she's written and you will find delight.

My cabin in the woods (1/2)

 

I wake with the dawn

The soft greens are murmuring

Psalm to joyful day.