June reading roundup #2

Eighty Days: Nellie Bly and Elizabeth Bisland’s History-Making Race Around the World, Matthew Goodman
On Nov. 14, 1889, two young female journalists left New York City, headed in different directions. Nellie Bly (traveling east) and Elizabeth Bisland (traveling west) swung from train to ship to boat in their mad dash to circle the globe in under 80 days. Goodman captures the frenetic pace of their race, the dizzying array of countries they saw, the vagaries of shipboard life and the way the contest fired the public imagination. A fascinating glimpse of the Victorian era and a great real-life adventure tale. (Jaclyn read it at the same time and also loved it.)

I’ll Be Seeing You, Suzanne Hayes and Loretta Nyhan
In 1943, two soldiers’ wives strike up a pen-pal correspondence spanning the miles from Iowa to Massachusetts. Rita Vincenzo, middle-aged and sensible, and Glory Whitehall, young and impulsive, are unlikely friends – but their letters help them weather the storms raging both abroad and at home. Beautifully written, evocative and sometimes heartbreaking – with occasional flashes of joy. Lovely.

The Secrets of Mary Bowser, Lois Leveen
Born into slavery in Richmond, Va., Mary Bowser is freed by her owner and sent to Philadelphia to be educated. When war breaks out, she returns to her native city to pose as a slave and spy for the Union – even working as a maid for Jefferson Davis. An absorbing historical read, based on the real life of its brave heroine.

Stormbreaker, Anthony Horowitz
Alex Rider, age 14, is left alone in the world after his uncle Ian’s death – and he quickly discovers Ian’s life wasn’t what it seemed. Ian was a spy for MI6, and his bosses recruit Alex to help with a dangerous mission. Fast-paced, stuffed almost too full of shiny gadgets and death-defying moments, but fun. First in the nine-book Alex Rider series.

The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat, Edward Kelsey Moore
Odette, Clarice and Barbara Jean have been friends most of their lives, gathering every Sunday at the titular restaurant for gossip and good food. As they all face personal battles (illness, losing loved ones, a spouse’s infidelity) in middle age, they reflect on the long story of their friendship and how it has shaped their lives. A compelling story that swings from heartbreaking to hilarious, full of warm, wonderful characters (including the ghost of Eleanor Roosevelt!). I loved it.

Spy School, Stuart Gibbs
Ben Ripley, age 12, is a math whiz – but he’s shocked when he’s recruited for the CIA’s top-secret spy training school. Once he arrives, though, Ben realizes there’s something fishy going on. He joins forces with Erica, the school’s top student, to try and figure it out. Fast-paced and funny, though not as richly developed as Ally Carter’s Gallagher Girls series.

Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
Anne convinced me to pick up this classic, set partly in my beloved Oxford. It’s the story of Charles Ryder and his entanglement with the Flyte family: charming Sebastian, beautiful Julia, quirky Cordelia, stodgy Brideshead. It’s also a portrait of a disappearing England, and encompasses several love stories and musings on faith. Gorgeously written, though also deeply sad.

Start Here: Read Your Way Into 25 Amazing Authors, ed. Jeff O’Neal & Rebecca Joines Schinsky
I backed this book on Kickstarter last summer. The book nerds at Book Riot have collected lots of advice about “reading your way into” 25 authors (see subtitle), ranging across many genres. Fun to dip into (the sections are short), utterly practical and (in typical fashion) quite opinionated.

This post contains IndieBound affiliate links.

What are you reading?

Boston Mini-Tour: History

I get a lot of questions from blog readers, real-life friends and some people who fit into both categories about “must-sees” in the Boston area. These questions ramp up in the summer, when the travel urge hits America and the tourists descend in hordes.

I love playing tour guide (real or virtual). So I’ve put together a few mini-tour posts to answer your questions. (Bonus: I can point people to these posts when they ask similar questions.)

First up: History! As we all know, Boston is teeming with it. (The series will also cover charming neighborhoods, food, gardens, college campuses and whatever else I decide you can’t miss.)

My favorite thing about Boston’s history? It’s woven into everything else.

For example: you can spend an afternoon lounging on Boston Common and then tour the beautiful Massachusetts State House, above. (It’s free, though only open on weekdays from 9 to 5, and you can take an interesting guided tour or wander around on your own.)

You can also go for ice cream downtown (or in Harvard Square) and pop into a lovely old church or cemetery. You can tour Paul Revere’s house in the North End and walk down the street for an Italian dinner. You are always walking through – sometimes walking on – history.

The Freedom Trail links together many historical spots downtown, beginning on the Common and going all the way to the U.S.S. Constitution and Bunker Hill in Charlestown. I have a deep love for the Common itself (about which I have written many times). It is Boston’s (smaller) answer to Central Park, green and open, a hangout for all segments of Boston society. It’s also the home of the Soldiers & Sailors Monument and the Shaw Memorial (featuring the regiment from the film Glory).

Just past the Common, behind the Park Street Church, is the Granary Burying Ground, where John Hancock, Paul Revere, Samuel Adams and Crispus Attucks (among others) are buried. (That’s my mom, above, perusing some of the epitaphs.) You can wander at will, or take a tour starting on the Common.

Down the street is King’s Chapel, a lovely old Royalist church. That is an interior shot above; there are lots of helpful signs around the sanctuary. (As you walk down Tremont St. toward King’s Chapel, pause before you reach the Omni Parker Hotel and look up: you can see the spire of the Old North Church. The view is protected by city ordinance. I love that.)

There are many more stops along the Freedom Trail, varying in size and admission fees, but my other favorites are over in the North End: Paul Revere’s house (above) and the Old North Church.

The Revere House is smallish, and it gets crowded during the summer, but I love seeing where and how the Revere family lived, as well as seeing Revere’s handiwork on display (he was quite the silversmith). And it costs $3.50 per person: a bargain.

The Old North Church, where they hung the signal lanterns (“one if by land, two if by sea”) is similar in style to King’s Chapel, but larger, and quite lovely. (All the cemeteries along the Freedom Trail are free; the churches are all “suggested donation.”)

At the other end of the Freedom Trail, the U.S.S. Constitution (above), alias “Old Ironsides,” sits anchored in the Charlestown Navy Yard. She is the oldest commissioned warship still afloat, and manned by active duty members of the U.S. Navy. They give free and informative tours every day except Monday. You can walk there over a bridge (it’s about a mile from the Old North Church), or you can take the ferry from Long Wharf to save your tired feet.

And finally, in Quincy (where I live), you can tour three houses connected with the John Adams/John Quincy Adams family. The tour center is directly across from a subway station (on the Red Line); the tour costs $5 and includes a trolley ride. The two original Adams birthplaces stand 75 feet apart from one another, and then you board the trolley again to tour Peacefield, the family “mansion” pictured above. (It features a detached library lined with ancient, beautiful books – obviously my favorite part.)

This is just a taste of Boston’s history – but if you’re visiting for a few days, these are my can’t-miss places. Stay tuned for more mini-tours, and feel free to ask questions in the comments!

29 things before I turn 30, update #3

Every year I make a list of things to do before my next birthday, from the fun to the profound, and post periodic updates. Items completed (or, let’s be honest, jettisoned) are crossed off; items begun are starred.*

1. Go back to Europe. Specifically Oxford (where I used to live).
2. Read or donate at least half the books I own that I’ve not yet read.* (Major progress.)
3. Go back to the Glen Workshop. Couldn’t swing it this year.
4. Visit my loved ones in Abilene. (Loved being there over Christmas.)
5. Finish a draft of my memoir. On hold for now.
6. Pay off my student loans.* (Nearly there!)
7. Go apple picking for the third time. (It was glorious.)
8. Visit a place I’ve never been. (Newport, RI; the Berkshires in MA)
9. Read 10 new-to-me classics of any genre. Done!
10. Participate in a cooking challenge with fellow Shelf Awareness reviewers. (Read all about it!)
11. Visit New York in the fall. (A weekend full of wonder.)
12. Cuddle my sweet nephew a lot.* (Loved doing this at Christmas and in March.)
13. Conquer the snooze button.* (Working so hard on it.)
14. Knit a few beautiful things. (See my late winter knits.)
15. Go to the dentist.* (Made an appointment.)
16. Visit Canada. (Maybe for my 30th?)
17. Reach out to two friends every week.*
18. Reread the Mother-Daughter Book Club series. See my post about these books.
19. Take a vacation with friends.
20. Try 2 or more new recipes a month.* (I love doing this.)
21. Develop a steady, focused routine for my workdays.* (Attempting this at a new-ish job.)
22. Re-imagine our cluttered guest room.* (This is not going well.)
23. Invest in sturdy, chic black flats. Finally.
24. Eat at the food truck on the Common. Yum.
25. Get a pedicure.
26. Invite friends over at least once a month.*
27. Write half a dozen more essays.* (I’ve written for Art House America about laundry, mending, and prayer.)
28. Order myself a new “brave” necklace.
29. Savor the last year of my twenties.*

What lists are you working on lately?

Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest

“Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest, and let this food to us be blessed. Amen.”

My family has a complicated relationship with liturgy.

In the Baptist churches of my childhood, no one ever prayed the same prayer twice. The Lord’s Prayer, handed down to us by Jesus, was dutifully memorized but rarely prayed by generations of Sunday School children. At bedtime with my parents when we were young, and later at youth group meetings on Wednesday nights, my sister and I were encouraged to make up our own prayers, to speak to God as directly and casually as to a friend.

We used many of the same phrases over and over, of course: Thank you, God, for this day. Please bless our family. Please heal ______ (inserting the name of whichever family member or friend was sick or hurting). But our parents and teachers urged us to put those phrases together in new and creative ways.

Over time, I picked up the notion that it was lazy, almost cheating, to pray the same prayer day in and day out. God gave us brains: weren’t we supposed to use them to create new and unique prayers? Wouldn’t God, like our friends, grow bored with us if we said the same things to Him over and over again?

I’m back at the Art House America blog today, talking about the table prayer I learned from my grandparents. Click over there to read the rest of my post.

June reading roundup #1

Looking for Me, Beth Hoffman
Teddi Overman has built a successful antiques business in Charleston. But her heart is still tied to the family farm in Kentucky, where her brother Josh disappeared years ago. Hoffman tells Teddi’s and Josh’s stories through a series of flashbacks, exploring their family’s tight but difficult bond. The flashbacks confused me at times, but I enjoyed the descriptions of Charleston and the farm, and the cast of distinctly Southern characters, especially Teddi’s best friend Olivia. (I loved Hoffman’s debut, Saving CeeCee Honeycutt.)

Changing My Mind: Occasional Essays, Zadie Smith
This collection includes incisive literary criticism, wry film reviews, a paean to Katharine Hepburn and notes from both a family Christmas and a week in Liberia. Smith is witty, wide-ranging and smart. I skimmed a couple of essays whose subject matter was unfamiliar or uninteresting to me, but found most of them insightful and enjoyable.

The End of Your Life Book Club, Will Schwalbe
This memoir started slowly, but once I got hooked, I couldn’t put it down. Schwalbe recounts his mother’s two-year battle with cancer, during which he and she created an informal, two-member book club and discussed books of all stripes. There is some necessary eulogizing (and she does seem like an admirable person), but I loved Schwalbe’s reflections on how great books can shape our lives and give us a way to talk to one another. Wonderful.

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Muriel Spark
I picked this up on a whim at Raven Used Books. Miss Jean Brodie is a “progressive” teacher at a staid Edinburgh school, who hand-selects a few girls to be her “crème de la crème.” They learn various unconventional lessons from her. An interesting premise, but I found Miss Brodie egomanaical and the girls cardboard cutouts. This one didn’t work for me.

E.B. White on Dogs, E.B. White, ed. Martha White
I found this collection at The Bookstore in Lenox, during our Berkshires trip. I’ve already read many of the pieces that appear in White’s letters and essay collections. They are fun to revisit, though, and this book includes a few new gems (plus several pieces that only mention dogs tangentially). White and I both love dogs in general and dachshunds in particular. And as always, he is a sharp-eyed, good noticer.

The Runaway Princess, Hester Browne
Garden designer Amy Wilde has pretty much given up on men – until she meets a handsome, kind one who turns out to be a real-life prince. Leo dazzles Amy with his thoughtfulness and charm, but her shyness plus a family secret may prevent her from embracing the royal lifestyle. A witty, enchanting modern fairy tale – I loved Amy, Leo, and Amy’s hilarious (and resourceful) flatmate, Jo. So much fun.

This post contains IndieBound affiliate links.

What are you reading?

Summer loves

The calendar has flipped to June. The string of commencement ceremonies around town is drawing to a close. This week, I placed my annual summer tea order from the Republic of Tea (ginger peach + blackberry sage). I have folded away my heavier sweaters, dug out my sandals and breezy cotton skirts.

Summer is here. Say it with me: Ahhhh.

I grew up in a place where summer is the longest season, where it’s not unusual to find temperatures in the 80s and even 90s from mid-March to the end of October. During a visit to my hometown this spring, I had to borrow a pair of shorts from my sister. I hadn’t packed any, because March in Boston is the middle-end of winter, and it is almost impossible to imagine wanting to bare your legs to the sun, should it ever appear. I knew I could count on cold temps and chill winds for weeks after I returned.

After nearly three years in the Northeast, I have learned to long for summer – and to celebrate it to the hilt when it finally arrives.

We kicked off summer with a Memorial Day trip to the North Shore, to eat lunch al fresco and spend an afternoon wandering around Salem. Later that week, we seized the opportunity for a North End dinner with a dear friend from Texas: big plates of pasta and cold glasses of sangria, eaten on a patio strung with twinkle lights.

We are also eating dinner on our own patio whenever possible (though not this weekend, because it’s raining). We begin with lemonade, end with ice cream or frozen yogurt. I have started my balcony garden: basil, mint, a red geranium. Abi and I are planning to split a flat of cherry tomato plants. And I am anticipating trips to the farmer’s market, which opens next week.

Some of the summer pleasures I reveled in as a kid have disappeared in adulthood: long days at the pool and road trips to visit family have all but vanished. But summer still means vacations, fireworks, picnics, cookouts, time with family and friends. These days, it also means an occasional evening at Fenway, cheering on the Red Sox (or, when they are in town, the Texas Rangers). It means making plans to celebrate our anniversary at the end of June. It has always meant – and still means – stacks of summer reading. (To be fair, every season means reading to me.)

Since we’re no longer students (and we don’t have kids), summer doesn’t entirely upend our routine. The rhythm of work and commuting, dishes and laundry, dinner and downtime and the New York Times crossword, continues. But the sudden infusion of sunshine, the longer, lighter evenings, signal a hundred little shifts.

We go barefoot around the house, and I wear sandals to work. We buy tomatoes by the dozen, pile the grocery cart with fruit. We linger over our bowls of pasta or curry, and some nights we walk down to the beach. We run ceiling fans and keep the windows open. We watch the sunsets and revel in the flowers bursting out everywhere. We drink in the season of abundance, of warmth and ease and light.

How are you celebrating summer?

One Good Phrase

For a lifelong reader, I came late to the work of Madeleine L’Engle.

I didn’t have a taste for fantasy as a child, so I never read A Wrinkle in Time or any of its sequels. For years, I didn’t know that Madeleine had written other books, that in fact her oeuvre ranged from adult fiction to memoir to poetry. But when my friend Teresa sold off a few of her books at the end of one semester in college, I picked up an old paperback copy of Walking on Water, Madeleine’s book of reflections on faith and art. And for nearly two years after that, I could be found with one of her books – The Small Rain, A Circle of Quiet, the entire Time Quintet – in my hand.

I love all Madeleine’s work in different ways, but A Circle of Quiet gave me a phrase that continues to resonate, striking a deep gong in my soul.

She recounts:

A winter ago I had an after-school seminar for high-school students and in one of the early sessions Una, a brilliant fifteen-year-old, a born writer who came to Harlem from Panama five years ago, and only then discovered the conflict between races, asked me, “Mrs. Franklin, do you really and truly believe in God with no doubts at all?”

“Oh, Una, I really and truly believe in God with all kinds of doubts.”

But I base my life on this belief.

That quiet anecdote, slipped in between Madeleine’s musings on ontology (the why of being) and a digression on the punctuation of A Wrinkle in Time, has changed the way I view faith, and the way I view life.

I’m at Micha Boyett’s blog today, participating in her One Good Phrase series. Click over there to read about how Madeleine’s phrase continues to resonate for me.