A girl in a blue beret

From his seat on the train now, he watched as the farm filed yielded to ragged outskirts, which melted into factory buildings, which gave way to the switching yards …. His stay with the Alberts in 1944 overlapped his visit now, as if he had jumped over time and might still be hiding behind an armoire or in a haystack with a cat. The shadowy figures of the brave people who had saved his life — in barns, in hidden rooms, on bicycles — were coming clearer, almost reachable. He welcomed them. … he could almost believe that the girl in the blue beret would be waiting when the train pulled in to the station.” — Bobbie Ann Mason. The Girl in the Blue Beret. Published by Random House, 2011.

A lovely book, well paced and interesting. For me, it was more about the mysteries of lost connections than WWII, but there’s enough of both. Sometimes the main character seems egocentrically North American, but that seemed to ring true to the character’s development and his reason for visiting France decades after his plane was shot down during the war. I enjoyed the gentle unfolding of the different truths within this tale, and will look for more books by the author.

Knitting things (apropos of nothing): I have done some knitting for PS5 blue. But mostly, with the hot weather and book sales at closing bookstore chains, I’ve been reading or taking photos of cool blue. If you’re doing PS5, hope you had a good time with blue and are gearing up for August (pinks and purples).  I’ll probably be wrapping up “blue” a little late, since I still have some yarn to photograph and I got some yarn that fits in with this months’ theme as well.

Summer at Tiffany

The question at the beginning of this book made me pick it up: “Do you remember the best summer of your life?”

From Tiffany blue front cover to the end, I felt like I had an inside scoop on a college girl’s best summer ever. The author, Marjorie Hart, takes readers on to Jones Beach by bus, for ginger ale at Sardi’s, and outside for a riotous VJ Day in Time’s Square.  Some scenes are too delightful for words — the pearl scene in a secret elevator in Tiffany’s will never be forgotten. Everything from that last WWII summer is shown through the eyes of an Iowan girl who was one of the first women working the floors of Tiffany’s. If you’re looking for scandals or angst, this isn’t the book for you. But if you want a nice, summery book to read while sitting on the porch or at the beach, this would be a pleasant choice.

Baking frenzy

Yesterday was a day of baking from the old standby — Fannie Farmer.
From a French style honey bread….

to prepping French vanilla ice cream with a bit of lavender in the milk… which was churned today (Monday) by the Gardener.
And then I made meringues (because honestly, what else should I do with that many egg whites, but not enough for an angelfood cake?).
The house smells delicious. And I’m not sure how many times I’ve washed the bowls.

I’m in the middle of a delightful book, called Summer at Tiffany by Marjorie Hart. In 1945, two young girls from the University of Iowa hop a train for NYC, and manage to be the first women to work on the shop floor. The book is bound in Tiffany blue, and although it’s not a recent printing, it’s a great deal of fun. Airy, a bit like my meringues. (Fun and frivolous — unlike the gravitas of recent news headlines, talking with family about recent storms in the heartland, etc. )

Getting in the mood for winter

If you’ve been hoping for snow, and it’s still too warm… (or you live in a snow-adverse region, like the desert) here’s a book that will make you want to burrow delightfully under an afghan with a hot drink: The Frozen Thames by Helen Humphreys.
In different years, the Thames has frozen solid. The author tells stories from the perspective of first-hand narratives from moments in time when the water is still.  These are the extraordinary moments when ordinary folk skate on ice in the margins of a rich man’s Book of Hours. Each story is self-contained, so the book can be picked up and put down inbetween preparations for holiday visitors. Perhaps it would be a good gift idea for your favorite Anglophile.

“C” Is for “Cat(s)”

His Most Serene Fluffybutt enjoying the sun porch

Cat burbling: Here is Malkin, devourer of unusual things (no, seriously: brussel sprouts, rusks [Wheatena], coffee [no cream, thank you], spiders, and nylon) and killer of wasps (he bats them with his ferocious paws without being stung).

He is a night and day tripper. He has to be first, even if it’s to stop suddenly because the light on the ringing phone freaks him out… at which point I trip over him.

There are 2 other cats in the household. But Malkin is the idiot who thinks I’m the alpha cat and he can soak up some of my glory. As if.

He does have many endearing qualities. His fur is very, very soft. He spends mornings curled up on the sofa behind my head while I drink morning coffee (really, he’s jonesing to steal some). He talks. He’s smitten with the 4-year old female cat who’s new (possibly because he can steal her food). He’s possibly the most laid back and friendly to outsiders.

“C” is also for The Circle by Peter Lovesey. I did enjoy this book. Then again, I’ve been trapped in many a Writer’s Club, wishing to gnaw my leg off. This author explores what happens when a speaker at a Writer’s Circle in Chichester ends up dying in an arson fire. Not too much detail for the squeamish. I’m sure actual police officers, detectives, and coroners wouldn’t be very impressed with it, but Lovesey did a better job than some at showing the vanities, weaknesses, and general inventiveness found among a pool of writers.

The other “C” close to my mind: “Construction”. We hates it. [cue Gollum imitation]. This is not construction for my benefit, but it is 3 doors down and very audible. A small, 1-story building is being reformed into a 2-story shop with a parking lot behind it. There is a crew of about 11 men in hardhats, kicking up concrete dust, dropping things on one another, and generally yelling four letter words from 7 in the morning until around 5. There is also a neighbor right next to the construction who spends much of her time in the sun on a folding chair observing everything and adding to the four letter salute. Since I’m unlikely to have air conditioning any time soon, my windows are open and my ears are tired. ‘Nuff said.