In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

30 before 30

 In all its imperfection

I had planned to post this on my half-birthday, for no reason besides my own love of symmetry. But as I mentioned in the last post, this cold&flu thing is no joke and has continued to worsen. So although I did drag myself out to achieve one of my 30b430 goals yesterday, I did not get this post written up. So I'm posting it now, knowing that chasing your dreams does not have a time-stamp, and the idea of "being behind" is meaningless, because no one is walking your same path.

I'm giving myself 18 months to get these done, as I wanted to fill my list with meaningful things. Not fluff to make up a number, or things I put off so that I can check them off a particular list. And I may very well change this list as I go along, discarding something that is no longer important to me, adding on something fulfilling. Some are deep and storied, some are things I've never tried that I think would be fun. Some are just a way to get me out of my house, or my routine, a challenge to think and move and evolve. 

What would be on your list?

Here's mine, in no particular order

  1. Visit Scotland
  2. Solo travel
  3. Sing karaoke
  4. Ride a rollercoaster
  5. Become a yoga instructor
  6. Get my colors done
  7. Learn CPR
  8. Try an escape room
  9. Visit the MIA
  10. Restock my savings account
  11. Start investing
  12. Do a wine or whiskey tasting
  13. Re-learn Liebestraum on the piano
  14. Try tennis
  15. Find a new way to explore my love of dance
  16. Crochet my first granny square blanket
  17. Plan and have an amazing picnic
  18. Fall in love
  19. Journal 30 days in a row
  20. Make a list of things I've done before age 30
  21. Meditate a combined 30 hours
  22. Get to 30 pushups at once
  23. Send 30 cards or letters
  24. Walk 30 minutes a day for 30 days
  25. Read 30 new books
  26. Plant 30 of the same plant
  27. Do my 10th 30-days-of-yoga-with-Adriene
  28. Go 30 days with no nonessential spending
  29. Write 30 poems
  30. Plan a unique 30th birthday party

Crumple days

 It's Wednesday evening, and I have a few thoughts to share about those days and weeks that feel like a crumple. I've been having one of those. I developed a nasty cold this week and I'm also in the process of switching from one med to another, which comes with a lot of breakthrough depression, dissociation, and significant dizziness. And I've had a few thoughts about self awareness, self compassion, and the innate drive to do-it-all and somehow live up to that American pressure to Hustle.

And I've actually found a couple of really helpful tips through my excessive time on my phone during the crash-mode that has been my recent state. One of those tips was just the reminder that, unless there is a life-threatening situation, nothing is in fact urgent. We know that fight or flight mode takes over when we are stressed, but it is hard to consciously understand that there is in fact time, and that the urgency imposed upon us is manufactured. 

The other was a practical self-regulating tool. I love adding these to my arsenal whenever I come across one that resonates with me. For anyone in a long-haul journey to find health or relief, you know that our tool-belt can never be too full. And there is something so meaningful in this one, because it seems to have a deeper meaning beneath it: our voices are tuned to regulate our own bodies, and humming can help us regulate, bring us back to center, return to the awareness of now. 

I immediately thought of two things: how isolating, whether self-imposed or pressed upon you, can lead you through the healing quiet all the way to the other side, where you no longer hear the grounding sound of your own voice, let alone others. Secondly, how easy it is for some of us to think that our voices do not need to be heard, to always er on the side of less, or fret when we've used our voices in powerful and expressive ways. Let us not be afraid to step up, be loud, be heard, speak our piece, and stay in tune with our self, our voice, our strength.

And speaking of strength, it is especially easy to doubt our own strength, purpose, and contribution when we are in a low space. When we feel terrible in our bodies and our minds, and it's difficult to take each step and manage each day. But our strength isn't gone you know, it is elsewhere. It is being used for other purposes. It only feels discouraging because we often cannot see all the battles we are fighting, we cannot do what we used to be able to do, and others seem to be going along without these struggles and limitations that are apart of our daily lives. 

I used to be the girl who could easily pick up one end of a couch or piano, who carried armchairs from one room to the next without waiting for assistance. And now I have to wait for help, leave the lifting to someone else, tend to aching muscles and strained joints even as an older generation thinks I'm too young to feel daily pain.

And it can be easy think we are not doing enough, because our slower days do not look like our full days. Because our new routine is not as strenuous as an old one, or as your neighbor's routine. We often let negative thoughts take over when we have to significantly cut back, to the point where we cease to see the steps we really are taking.

This week I took a "lazy Sunday" because I was struggling with a host of symptoms, both physical and mental, including depression, side-effects, and the Sunday Scaries. I got up and did a few things before bed, but still felt like I'd done "nothing" that day. In actual fact, I'd gotten up in time to join a zoomcall that was important to me (I was a little late, but I made it), I took a shower, put scrubs through the laundry, made a batch of macarons, wrapped a gift, reached out to a friend, made chicken, potatoes, green beans, and meatballs, put fresh sheets on my bed, finished an audiobook, rested, did my skincare.

I did all that I needed to, and more. I even set myself up for the week ahead, even though it was hard. And it made me realize how resilient we can be, even on hard days.

And that's not to say that we don't need days where we actually don't do anything. Today was closer to that, since this cold makes me feel like I have the flu, and between my sore throat, dry nose, congested head, and dizziness, I didn't move much off the couch except to eat food and stuff. Still, I took care of myself. I ate real food, did some (very) gentle yoga, took a shower-bath with essential oils, did some self-massage and humming to feel attached to my body again, took a nap, and I plan to meditate before bed. I felt so cruddy, in fact, that I didn't even think I could make it to the chiropractor, and so will try tomorrow. I also know that I have a class tomorrow, and a long grocery list, and so I will by necessity be more active then, and so must take that extra care in these moments.

My pajamas tonight are fuzzy sweats and my t-shirt that says "stay awkward, brave, and kind" as Brene would say. And not only is this necessary and helpful in relation to dealing with other people, relationships, and the world, it is also good advice for dealing with your own body and mind. 

So: stay awkward, brave, and kind with yourselves tonight. And I hope you sleep well.

Peace

Hygge and Badassery

I've decided that may become the title of my (nonexistent) autobiography.

Something about the juxtaposition of the two is very "me". My brother and I recently had a conversation about how we are both very intense and also pretty chill, my sister and I often identify as "velvet steel".

In this world you will have trouble (be tough as nails) but take heart, I have overcome the world (stay tender; be a soft place to land).

I like how "hygge" in itself has a both/and to it. Rest without laziness. Comfort without apathy. Indulgence without excess. Its an enveloping warmth that comes with movement and connection, with solitude and rest. A light that doesn't forget the darkness. 

I thought at first of having it be my word of the year. Because so many of the more active words people employ to inspire their year just made me tired, to be honest. As much as I have accomplished and loved this year, I am weary. And in order to motivate me and lift me up daily, my mantra cannot be one of constant reaching, ambitious challenges, or demands. 

I liked that hygge was a grounding word, about staying in the present moment. About real, often tactile ways of expressing hope and light, comfort and connection. It is a word born in cold climates (and oh boy I live in one). In a rush-hungry, virtual-visit world, I liked its reminder to be present.

But it wasn't quite right. As much as it spoke to me (and as much as I loved the thought of all the books and games about hygge I would have an excuse to buy) it lacked an upward lift that I knew would be necessary to carry me through the year ahead. I am no expert on hygge, so you are welcome to argue that it is either more or less than I have described, but as my word pertains to my own life, it can only help me as much as its meaning has molded into the heart of me.

I chose instead, a word that could span both Hygge and Badassery. 

That spoke directly to my need to be both challenged and held. 

For structure and freedom; pursuing my dreams and appreciating the here and now.

Loving my independence, and searching for a soulmate; moving and resting; reaching and waiting.

Growing and enough. Faithful and questioning. Grounded and dreaming. 

I chose a word that many have chosen before me, and for that very reason I had dismissed earlier. It was, in a way, too obvious; too common. But when I thought about all the truths that could be hidden inside it... I decided to make its magic come alive again.

I like to choose words that have both a physical and metaphorical meaning. Ones that I can implement into my year. In reminder, challenge, wordplay. It makes that one word-of-the-year a little bigger on the inside. Last year's word Flourish had both the bloom where you're planted meaning, and also the added beauty meaning. And this year's word has at least two equally strong and applicable meanings.

Balance

a mantra. a pose. equilibrium. stability. equipoise. a pleasing integration. a parallel juxtaposition. moderation. a grounding, even if only an inch of you is still touching the earth.

Balance is the name of my meditation app, appropriately. As well as a whole branch of yoga, in both its physical and abstract senses. These give me immediate areas of focus and foundation for my word of the year. Our January Yoga with Adriene theme is "Center", which is integral to all forms of balance, finding center. Also, the very muscles needed for balance are often the small muscle groups most integral to longevity, and for me, targeted in my PT exercises for back pain.

Balance reminds you to tend to all parts of your body, both together, and in their turns. Physical, mental, spiritual, emotional, and so on. And in my experience, that is the only way to make progress in my own health.

I hope it helps me with my tendencies toward all or nothing

I can use it to remind me of the third way

To say I pick neither, when the options offered are not life-giving. 

 

Balance is the state of the present – the here and now. B.K.S. Iyengar 
 

    Falling out of balance doesn’t matter, really and truly. How we deal with that moment and how we find our way back to center, every day, again and again – that is the practice of yoga…it’s about trusting that you will find your way.— Cyndi Lee

    Yoga is about finding your own balance in our crazy, tempestuous times. It’s about standing tall with confidence even when the winds of your world are swirling around you. — Kathryn E. Livingston
     
     
    Awake, my dear.

    Be kind to your sleeping heart.

    Take it out into the vast fields of Light
    And let it breathe.
     
    -Hafiz 

It's Coming on New Years

We're taking down trees.

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The end of year is gliding toward us, both inexorable and benevolent. A fresh start. You all know, if you've read any of my New Year posts of the past, how much I cherish the blank slate of the new year, the possibility and even inevitability of newness, a sparkling restart button for all those who have been too tired or muddled to make proper use of Mondays or other such beginnings.

Here is an opportunity to step into a new pattern. A time when we are practically expected to break a champagne bottle on the deckrail of the year ahead, expecting goodness to come. And of course, this can be dreadfully overwhelming. It is one of my favorite times of year, and even so, as it hurtles toward us each December I have the urge to think it’s coming too soon or too fast. But perhaps it comes just when we need it to. When we wouldn't have chosen to crawl out of Christmas quite so quickly. When it would hardly have occurred to us to write brand new lists, and start our favorite cycles again. A time to turn over whatever leaves you choose, and not dilly-dally about it.

It comes just in time. When the thought of the holidays' excesses going on makes you feel a bit queasy, its a time to sweep the crumbs from the table and bring out a clean notebook page. What seems most important to do and be and feel in the months ahead? What are the responsibilities you need to put down in black and white in order to stop carrying them around in a basket, and instead choose a day to tackle just how to make things happen? What is something that had an immense effect on you in the last year, and is it something you want to promote and make space for in the new year, or is it something you need to pack away for good, and actively heal from?

Each person's list is very personal and different, but I do beseech you to find a quiet corner to shut out all the clamour and ask yourself as many questions as you please. Bring along a journal to pour out your scattered thoughts, if you like. To make space in your own mind for moments of clarity, decision, and planning. Because thinking, dreaming, planning and strategizing, are usually what it takes to live a life you can love, where you really feel like you're living, where you can bring to life those pieces of yourself and your dreams that are most important. It takes time and work, but also rest, and boundaries, and choice.

I commend to you whatever process works best for you to feel that fresh start to the tips of your toes, and the top of your head. Find some quiet, and look for the meaning at the heart of your weary efforts. 

I like to choose a word for the year to center upon, instead of my Resolutions List being at the forefront. I do keep lists of things I want to do, accomplish, maintain, let go, etc. But I like to make the start of a new year feel simplified and less cluttered than a demanding list might afford. And so I've enjoyed choosing a Word of the Year in recent years. I posted more about this last year. I won't tell you how to choose your own word. There are lots of tools out there, and lists of words. Not all of them are helpful of course, and it still takes quiet time, sitting and mulling over your inner longings and murmurs, and which string needs tugging this year. What can I gather around, like a fire to light my hope and energy this year?

I'll tell you all about the word I chose in my next post.

In the meantime, I thought I'd share a different sort of list with you today. Many people are compiling a list of resolutions this time of year, and in the last few months I have been thinking about my 30 before 30 list so that I'll have time to accomplish them by the time the big day rolls around. That specific list I may share another day as well, but I found when making that list that two other lists emerged naturally. One was what many call a "Bucket List" - things to do sometime in my life. And the other was of things I'd already done. This, I found to my comfort and inspiration: was the longest list of the three.

And so today, as 2022 nears its end, I'm sharing 

22 things I think everyone should do at least once in their life

My two cents of course, take how you will. And all my best wishes for the New Year! 

  1. Travel outside your own country
  2. Live by yourself
  3. See the ocean
  4. Hold a newborn baby
  5. Take a dance class
  6. Get certified at something
  7. Try meditation
  8. Read a book that you adore
  9. Witness a fresh snowfall
  10. Get a massage
  11. Go to therapy
  12. Bake bread
  13. Stand up for someone else
  14. Go caroling
  15. Tell a joke from memory
  16. Play an instrument
  17. Read aloud to someone you love
  18. Volunteer
  19. Take yourself out to dinner
  20. Ask for something big: a raise, love, help.
  21. See a migration murmuration
  22. Complete 30 days of something (anything! But my top recommendation is Yoga with Adriene's daily yoga in January)

What would you add to this list?

November

 Greetings my good friends. Today, November begins. I had great thoughts in weeks past, of getting a post up with spooky reads for All Hallows Eve, but never got it finished, what with restful days off and hectic work and weekend. The good news is I spent some pleasant hours crocheting and catching up on The Rookie, and also spent many hours recently with my nieces and nephews, which does the heart no end of good. We even had a Spooky Tea yesterday, complete with full-on costumes. Today I'm settling in to the November-y-ness of it all. Embracing the coming Christmas season, and the close of harvest-time.

Minnesota has been fluctuating with a familiar madness, between freezing temperatures and 80 degree heat. I used one of the warmer to days to winterize my gardens against the coming winter, but I'm already poised to embrace the snow and Christmas season as it drifts toward us. After the new year I will enter the dreaded season--the prolonged winter--but this fresh beginning comes with its own hopes and joys.

As witnessed by my plans for book recommendations and code societies, I often don't have the time and energy to live up to all the creative ideas I can come up with for myself. And this fall especially has been as full of exhaustion and the fight for mental health as it has been full of blowing leaves and pumpkin pies. This is often my reality, and so I give a nod to it as I settle in here.

I'm entering November with Postscript Murders on my audiobook app, and Persuasion open to read with my eyes. New and old, stimulating and soothing, all the better to cover the necessary reading bases. Since I've missed out on going full spooky-book-rec on you all (sorry Historian and Perilous Gard) I'll just add on a few grey-November reads in case you need a little inspiration.

The Tiger in the Smoke

Gaudy Night

Jane Eyre

The Night Circus

The last is one that I read just this year, but am already inspired to read again, just for the magical essence of it. Even more than the story-line was how certain parts and descriptions made me feel, a nearly tangible enchantment in the very design and evocative structure of the Circus and its partners.

I'm off to a bit more real life, but will write more soon. In the meantime, I wish you dark and misty novels, and bright enchanting hope.


August

I am back at last. A mid-August evening is drawing to a close, purple clouds streaked across the after-glow. I'm trying to wrap my mind around where we are in the season of the year, where I am amidst the turn of the world. A combination of good sleep hygiene and overcast skies means I've missed the Perseids this year. A need for additional naps and recharging means my screentime is up and my garden time is down, something I hope to be changing as I am able. 

At the same time, it has been a fruitful summer. I've self-published a collection of poetry, called One Bright Song. I've written and delivered a class on women's empowerment. I've passed my 90 day review at work, and plan to join the town parade this weekend. I've met brand-new nephews, and welcomed back old friends. I've finished a myriad of books, and am planning a smashing birthday party.

And I've formed a Society for like-minded individuals on the subject of codes, clues, ciphers, cryptology, treasure-hunts, puzzles, games, riddles, code-breakers. All such various and sundry interests. A place to channel some of my nerdy puzzling energy, and bring along others to enjoy the ride. The Society's main page is on Instagram @lucindahpearcesociety. As curator there, I go by my nom de plume, Peony Ellis Watson. Further information about the society, it's name, purpose, and posting schedule can be found on that page. 

I recently got back into my passion for puzzling and codes, and wished there were more podcasts and things in this category. (If you know of any excellent ones, do pass them along). But I thought, why not start a collection of my own? A society of us who are a little obsessed with such things, a place to explore and share and revel in mysteries, games, anagrams, and cyphers. To converge knowledge and skills and fun. To gather our enjoyment of Enola Holmes, The Inheritance Games, Bletchley Park, Sherlock, National Treasure, and the like. Do join if you have a mind, and tag someone else you think might enjoy it!

I share book recommendations on that page too, from that genre of books, for all ages. But for other genres, here are a couple of gems for your August bookstack.


 The Sherwood Ring combines modern intrigue and historical plots and adventures. Flashes back in time, desperate schemes against worthy opponents, a twist of fate, a dash of romance, and some strong female leads.

Leave it to Psmith is one rollicking and windy, hilarious tale. Mistaken identity, jewelry theft, and country house parties. Absent-minded earls, efficient butlers, impersonated poets, dignified and determined ladies, and flowerpots, all play pivotal roles in this read you won't want to miss.

And speaking of not wanting to miss anything, I would love to hear your thoughts on '30 before 30' lists. I love how unique everyone's is. They range from quite trivial items to momentous and very specific ones. Let me know what is (or was) on yours. What you wish you could have told your nearing-thirty self. I have enjoyed beginning my own list. I have two years before 30, but I'd like to make plans this year, so that I have a chance to check off a few goals, a few trips. I'm recording too, a list of things I have already accomplished (so many more than 30!) that could be on this list. I want to reach 30 with a feeling of the richness of what I've already experienced, and excitement for all the rest that is to come.

It's hard not to sound cliche when pointing out the fact that this year has flown by, that summer nearing its end hardly seems real. That I feel I haven't quite grasped at enough of summer yet. As much as I love sharp pencils and blustery breezes and apple pie, I do want a few more sunbathing, lake-splashing, hot yard and garden days. I want to make the most of it.

I've been enjoying biking to work, taking snippets of my day out on my balcony, opening my windows on a cool morning, and watching the bumblebees and butterflies at their August peak. Just today I saw a monarch, two red admirals, a swallowtail, a hummingbird, and numerous bumble and honeybees, just in my own garden! It makes my heart sing to have a haven for these beauteous pollinators.

Before I sign off on this slightly random and rambling blogpost of this evening, I must commend to you the new Persuasion movie on Netflix. If you're a purist, only liking the book versions or the ancient original movies, it may not be your cup of tea, but oh is it mine. I reveled in the visual beauty, the clever anachronistic humor, the deep emotion, and have thought of it probably every day since I watched it. I actually can't wait until I watch it again. It's going to be those I keep on repeat to soothe my soul. I hope you enjoy it too! (The soundtrack is heaven, I listen to it constantly.)

Alright that's all for now my dears, I'm off to bed. Thanks for stopping by here!

This post is best accompanied by 'Wave' by Antonio Jobim and a glass of something iced. Or a cuppa, because a cuppa is never the wrong answer

We have reached true summer here in my hemisphere. Besides weeks of rain and thunderstorms we didn't have very much spring weather. It seemed to go from annoyingly cold to unnervingly hot. But I am reveling in the green-gold of this late June sunshine, and the pink-brown of my sun-kissed skin.

The vines covering my house may or may not be possessed by some nature-magic as in Spindle's End. They are certainly insistent, stubborn, and lively. I finally got around to hacking them away from my balcony door where they had completely barred my screen from closing, and tried to infiltrate my upstairs. They also tried to reach across my whole balcony, but that's another story. Fortunately today I found a spurt of energy and a break in foot-pain, and managed to tackle some of the garden that was most unruly.

My balcony is unblocked and my peonies dead-headed. There was such a short season for my favorites this year. Peonies and lily-of-the-valley are something I wait all year to experience again, and this year both of those beauties passed me by with only one jug each brought into my home with their heavenly scents!

I also got to the first spate of weeding today, and although not as beautiful or abundant as I had perhaps dreamed, my gardens are showing through. I'll take a hose to them once the sun goes down, I think. Try and bring them back to happiness in time for the more-abundant less-refined look of mid-summer. I've left vines snaking over a number of my windows. They block a few of the sun's rays, but in the peak of heat that is often a blessing. It allows a dappled green light through, like the best conservatories, and magical greenhouses. Very Woodwold, and Ivy Tree. It also lends a bit of privacy without cutting off my connection to the out-of-doors, since I've begrudgingly turned on the AirCon recently, as the indoor temperatures reached 80 degrees.

With July quickly approaching I am aware that I have missed a few "Book Recommendations by Month".  So here are some favorites I love in the sultry heat of summer.

Summer of Storms acting and art, tasteful family intrigue, mystery and crime, a dash of romance

My Brother Michael historic Delphi, chance meetings, sudden danger, and a search for the truth

Over Sea Under Stone the Cornish coast, Arthurian legend, ancient clues, and very current threats

Dandelion Fire magic and menace, a pivotal undertaking, family ties, personal sacrifice, adventure

A New Song a stint on an island, new experiences, intrigue, growth, life's dramas and beauties

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About a month ago I rolled my ankle, ending up with a major sprain and a minor fracture, which has been pretty good for my book-list and pretty hard on my gardens. Great on the napping agenda, and rough on the yoga and walking habits that had been going strong. After catching up on some much needed sleep, and some (apparently) necessary doing-nothing, I did manage to finish the class I was writing though. I've also painted a huge shelf, prepared for my new stove to arrive (unbroken this time thank you), worked on finishing my dining-room, and learned several new piano pieces I now play almost every time I pass the instrument.

This week feels like true summer to me finally. Possibly it has to do with the fact that over the weekend I got sunburned, and the AC also went out on my car just in time to drive two hours in over 100 degree heat. But mostly it's because I now can see the blue sky, the sun is dappled by a multiplicity of foliage, and I can finally wear shorts without getting cold. I visited the local library and in the window-bright stillness I glanced at every shelf and took home a light read that I curled up with all afternoon, and finished past my bedtime, summer after-light glowing through my curtains of vines and lace.

I make hummus veggie wraps and ginger switchel, listen to excellent audio-books, and try to decide if I need a new car. I'll wrap my ankle in a bit, and go for a bike-ride. Finish my spray-paint project. Put fresh sheets on my bed. Dream of Scotland. And think about how I want to live my 29th and 30th year.

 

 

March reading recommendations

And here we are, halfway through March before I'm getting to this month's recommendations. It is a busy month, full of quick thaws, and the last depressive stillness of winter. It speaks in quality of light, and gradually uncovered garden beds, of the coming spring. As far north as we are, spring itself is still a wish, a hope, and a few weeks away. But this week we are supposed to glimpse multiple days above fifty degrees! So I'm making plans now to get right out there, trimming bushes and clearing undergrowth, before the new greens start to show their brave faces.

Before I get side-tracked though, by work, and gardens, and poetry, here are my book recommendations for the month of March. 

Spring Fever by P.G. Wodehouse is a spritely read, full of fizz and humor, and just the right amount of plot and ridiculous hilarity. I first read this one out of a tome of an omnibus pulled from one of Mama's shelves. And I enjoyed it so much, I took to reading it aloud to everyone after dinner, chapter by chapter. This is such a priceless way to enjoy a good book, especially a funny one, with everyone from Dad on down to my teenage brother, enjoying with appropriate snorts of laughter. That being more than a decade ago now, I've obtained a paperback for my own shelves, and have set this one aside for bedside reading, or laughs after dinner in the lounge.

A Forgotten Place by Charles Todd is a very different sort of book. The other side of March, with mists, and dim, forbidding cold, bracing air, an atmosphere of intrigue, and something on the horizon. This is from the Bess Crawford series, of which I've read several but not all. Even if you don't have time or inclination to tackle the series, this one is still worth your time. Bess, having been a nurse during the Great War, finds herself this time in an isolated Welsh village full of secrets. Stranded amidst increasing mystery, danger, and suspense, she is determined, as always, to discover the truth. 

The setting, both in geographical space and in era, is deeply felt in this novel. And the story moves both methodically and with breathless suspense through tales truer than fiction, and with threads both timeless and poignant. I recommend you go find your library card.

This last one, The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner, is well thumbed as you see. The first in the Attolia series, it weaves the first strands of a wider story with subtle precision. Set in imagined lands, with influences both medieval and ancient Greek, the real strength in this series is the depth of characters. Turner has a way of turning a phrase to give you insight into the many sides of each person, their secrets, motivations, hidden fragilities and hidden strengths. And at each revelation, you'll find yourself wanting to reread or ponder past actions that may have deeper meaning, and say even more about these people you're coming to know so well. Even at the end of this book you're bound to come away wanting to start it all over again to see what you had missed. And if you're at all intrigued, I can tell you the following books just get better.

...

I'm off to work now, but I hope you find something you'd like to add to your growing TBR pile. I know mine never shrinks for long. Happy reading, and happy spring to all! Back soon~

Books for February

Welcome back, friends. It seems I've blinked and we're well into February, so why don't I delve right into my three recommendations for this month! I hope you've all survived January alright. Even with upheavals, I'm doing so well. Glad to see February and fill it with good things, and new things, and specifically during these cold and often solitary days, choosing to fill my cup to the brim, so that I can more readily spill over and pour out for others.

As my daily yoga-with-Adriene reminds us
 Inhale: lots of love in. Exhale: lots of love out

Let's read, shall we?

 
 Pride and Prejudice

This one should need no introduction, and yet it may receive the longest. It must be Jane Austen's best known novel, and is certainly the one that I always come back to. Even those who don't know Austen will have heard of it, and even if you've only seen the movies, you're welcome here too. With this story, as is seldom true elsewhere, I feel the spirit and emotion has been well transferred to screen, and it is to those that I return even more often than to these pages. The 2005 version is unparalleled for its aesthetic and soul, in my opinion. This can be a controversial subject, but in literature and entertainment I believe our individual experience plays such a part in what speaks to us, that to have differing opinions and preferences is not only to be expected, but should never be quelled. I return to that film with such regularity, for its beauty and artistry, its comfort and pathos. I have had many favorite movies in my time, but honestly, this might be my desert island one.
And no, I didn't plan to spend this whole time talking about the movie.
Every few years I pick up the book, and am brought along through this familiar story, the details sharper and though-provoking where they differ from the movie. And her writing style quick and evocative. I've read several other of Austen's, naturally; but none has captured me the one this has. I believe it to be her best for its timelessness. It can speak to us in any generation. There is a marvelous article on why her writing has such an inspiring, nourishing effect on us. I'll link it here. After World War One they used to prescribe her books to men with shell-shock, so great was their belief in her talent for grounding and uplifting. I hope you'll give it a try during these unprecedented times.

Winter Sea

I discovered Susanna Kearsley a few years ago, and her books quickly became favorites that I reread frequently. To me, she holds the title in her particular subgenre. Spinning two tales at once, a modern one, and one deep in history (often using speculative-fiction devices such as ancestral memory or time travel) her ability to evoke characters and their similarities through the eras, while including masses of accurate historical context is captivating. Most of what I know of Scotland's Jacobite rebellion originated with these books. Winter Sea, also published as Sophia's Secret, is set in and around Slain's Castle, Scotland and deals with spies and intrigue, love and loyalties, family, heartache and hope, bravery, and accepting the unknown. Her books remind me that there is a kind of solid good to be found: in people, in places, and amidst the chaos that all our different lives bring.

Beauty
 
This is a retelling of a fairytale we all know. But as Robin McKinley does very well, she turns the original story on its head a bit, and plays around until it is unexpected and completely relatable. This allows us to come at the story with fresh eyes, and get to know rich and unique characters we have not previously met. You'll find yourself turning pages quickly to discover how the story will unfold, even as you recognize the well-worn tale underneath. It is somehow both magical and down-to-earth. A book to read with a mug of tea and a biscuit, while sitting on the windowsill. And it is perhaps the only book I've read that made me desperately want a horse. An enormous, glorious horse. Buy yourself a rose this month, and cozy up with this read, as the last of the worst of winter howls around.

And if you want a bonus read, after enjoying this one, try Beauty and the Clockwork Beast, for another twist on the classic, this time in a vivid steampunk AU.

Book Recommendations

Let's do some book recommendations by month, shall we? I got this idea some time last year, and am late getting this January one out, but better late than never. Let's not wait till next year to test out our funky ideas. So, if you're wanting a new book to finish out the month with, a little inspiration trickling in as the year goes by... I've got some suggestions!

Some of the books that I have designated by month have a strong setting in a certain time of year. Others just seem to fit the mood, a sort of aesthetic color-scheme by season. As I've chosen for each month, I've included many that I reread yearly, along with others that I hope will introduce you to something new, inspire your imagination, or be just the delightful escapism that you need. If these don't strike your fancy, but you're stuck looking for something new, comment a few of your favorites, and I'll try to come up with a fresh read for you.

 

I've gone with three for each month, and for January I chose...

A Gentleman in Moscow

This gem from Amor Towles is one of my absolutely-every-year reads. I notice new things, savor the prose, and bask in the life-affirming encouragement through humor, intelligence, and pathos. I've waxed about this one before, so I'll keep this brief, but its so much more than a synopsis could say. In Moscow, between the wars, a man gets on the wrong side of the Bolsheviks, and is sentenced to house arrest in the Metropol Hotel, for life. Instead of letting this be the end of his story, he brings all his wit and wisdom to bear on his new circumstances, and carves out a life both unexpected and full of life and influence. It is all at once a historical snapshot, a witty commentary, a cozy saga, and a call to action.

 

Innocence

Now, it's been a couple years since I read this one, so the details aren't sharp enough to give you a play-by-play (not that I'm into spoilers anyway). But this book is full of snowy streets, secret retreats, dangerous adventures in libraries, and a deeper story full of intrigue, bravery, anguish, hope, and beauty. I've never actually read any other books by Dean Koontz, and wonder how his others measure up to this one, and its satisfying narrative of suspense and soul.

 

The Reluctant Widow 

This one is pure enjoyment. Hilarious, quick-witted, and well spun, this is one of my favorites from Georgette Heyer. Georgette's best feel like a cross between Jane Austen and P.G. Wodehouse, I'd have to say. And what a conjunction. Regency drama, sharp banter, comical side-characters, and a mysterious plot. It's just what I need during a January slump, and the audible reader is perfect too. Grab a cup of tea and prepare to be diverted!

 

I know the world has gone the way of booktok and bookstagram, and I know I spend more time with my nose stuck in my phone than in my books these days... But here's to picking up the best of novels, to writing poetry in your spare moments throughout the day, to sniffing the aroma of old bindings, to finishing the next short story segment you promised. To reading before bed, on holiday, on public transport, to listening to audiobooks in your earbuds. Here's to hand-written letters, Shakespearean sonnets, the well-thumbed copy of Percy Jackson by your bed. And that obscure fictional character that made you feel brave.

Some things stay the same

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Sometimes after the burst of newness at the turn of the year, I like to look around and see what hasn't changed. What stays the same, as the world turns and all its residents step into January looking for a new lease on life? Through all the reversals and new directions of the last year, and even the first weeks of this one, some things carry on. 

I still dance to the music, spiderman is always amazing, friends come in clutch on hard nights, book stacks are exciting. Family is dear, Adele is fire, fried potatoes are worth it; and you can still frequently find me of an evening, turning on jazz, sipping wine or herbal tea in my satin pajamas, writing away at some article or project.

As often happens, difficult circumstances weren't long in coming to my shiny new year. There will always be those, whether or not they come from expected quarters. And this week, to top it off, I've come down with a pernicious cold (rapid tests two days in a row say no covid, but it's nasty either way). I've been home from work, sipping tea and cooking vegetables and soup, watching movies and embroidering.

But if the universe is trying to challenge my resolve to my word-for-2022  flourish,  it needn't bother. Flourishing is all about letting the buffeting wind make you strong, about living with grace and gentleness to yourself and others, about taking as many tries as needed to clear a hurdle. It's about looking around you and seeing what is still beautiful, and about embracing that extra flair in yourself.

I had more thoughts, but my brain has been scrambled by this germ, and so I'll close out for tonight and return another day. But my adventurous, writing, Jo soul is glad to be here. I have plans for book recommendations, and other fun posts. Give yourselves grace to step back, rest, and thrive, my dears. I'll see you soon