A November Salutation

yes, I’m still here and I have a few things to share

Well, that was quite the little break from putting out a newsletter, now wasn’t it? Honestly, I was not expecting to drop off for a few months but between making some transitions in my schedule for work, getting COVID in September and having it transform into walking pneumonia by mid-October, I’ve really had my proverbial hands full.

At first there was a weird, tragic sense of relief at being mandated to slow down. Oh, I don’t have to continue running at 125%? Fine by me. But as I rebounded during my first foray with COVID and then moved from a primary viral infection into secondary ambiguity, I felt the assurance I gained from three-plus years of being actively engaged in pandemic safety and community care slide back towards the uncontrollable anxiety the early days of COVID instilled in me. Am I having a bout of respiratory bad luck or am I in some sort of weird limbo where my body is deciding on full recovery or something else? I don’t know, but it’s certainly unsettling at times.

I’ve been in the doldrums during all of this because this season of luminous change is usually when I feel most inspired by nature around me. Spending most of my time indoors and slowing my body down was a real change in fall routines for me. I wanted drives down back roads to look at fall leaves and gentle walks in the woods to stand in quiet autumnal splendor. Instead, I watched three seasons of the Great British Baking Show and cast off three different knitting projects (which is, admittedly, its own kind of splendor).

Fall, unlike other seasons, feels more fleeting and impressionistic than the long, languid days of summer that are almost unending. I think it has a lot to do with the dwindling daylight and that one good rain or windstorm can bring an end to intense brilliance in one fell swoop. At least my commutes to and from work provided impressive panoramic views of the foliage, the overcast days providing the best light.

My single fall drive across one of the gaps.

What I’ve Been Reading

Bitter Orange Tree by Jokha Alharthi - I finished this book during the last days of August on a trip to Maine, and it was the perfect book to slow down and get completely immersed in. This revelatory story about a young woman mourning the loss of her chosen grandmother and navigating the intricacies of adulthood in college really struck a chord with me. Growing up in an intergenerational household brought a whole layer of relatability to me, and while I have not lost my maternal grandmother, the topics explored by Zohour and her grief are things I think about as I reckon with a mortal world. In addition to compelling coming-of-age observations are intricately woven tales of Zohour and Binti Amir’s familial history. A strong, lyrical book about female desires.

Tom Lake by Ann Patchett - About halfway through this book, I texted a friend to say that Tom Lake was reminding me of Dirty Dancing without the virginal awakening and parent-induced scrupulosity. There was also something in there about Duke reading more like a teen character in a John Green novel than a full-grown adult, but don’t quote me on that. I was running a fever of 102.5 at the time. Intermingled with my fever-driven snark was a real appreciation for Patchett’s ability to seamlessly weave a story about inevitability, the fleetingness of existence, and the tenacity it takes to find contentment in the present. While I did sometimes find the story to be a bit rambly, I can be persuaded to hang on and find the reading experience worth it as long as it’s moving toward a culminating ending, packed with a fulfilling and earnest emotional punch. I think Patchett delivered.

Trespasses by Louise Kennedy - I was really looking forward to reading Kennedy’s debut novel and surprisingly left feeling really conflicted after turning the last page. A good portion of the novel worked really well. I appreciated the nuanced explorations into the conflicts surrounding The Troubles coupled with the internal conflict as Cushla, the main subject of Kennedy’s book, navigates her work, her romantic life, and her tenuous relationship with her mother. Trespasses is a great title for the novel because it ends up being the most central theme, but perhaps what left me feeling the most muddled about the entire premise was that I couldn’t quite land on if the author was trying to proselytize us away from thinking a certain way about the age gap relationship in the novel, and it felt unnecessary (and irksome).

Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry - Reading Wendell Berry feels like a frustratingly good dish of comfort food. There is something undeniably heartwarming about his pastoral work, though it doesn’t shy away from difficulties nor bend towards the saccharine. Coulter can read, at times, like a simple treatise for localization and a good dose of skepticism on whether our advancing society is advancing towards anything worthy. On a more macro level, there is a deliberate and thoughtful transcription of the way our local relationships transform individuals and the communities they inhabit. After finishing this book, I didn’t leave feeling satisfied or seen, but I felt engaged in a conversation worthy of my time and effort. I think it may take reading a few more of these stand-alone novels featuring figures from Port William to have a deeper understanding of the issues Berry prioritizes, and that may be worth an essay in and of itself.

Now on to

• Enchanted to Meet You by Meg Cabot - Witchy, paranormal romance from one of my favorite authors during those tumultuous teen years.

• You, Again by Kate Goldbeck - If this is giving the vibes of When Harry Met Sally that everyone says it gives, I’ll have what they’re having.

• The Marriage Question by Claire Carlisle - Author biographies can be delightful, nerdy treats. Luckily this one’s been touted as lacking the hagiographic elements other literary bios possess when written by an admirer. All about George Eliot but puts particular focus on her unconventional marriage to George Lewes. This leans a bit into philosophy which is fine by me.

Snug as a bug, even if the Crocs and sock combo are questionable accessories.

In Gratitude

These past couple of months may have been long and hard, but despite all the circumstances, there was plenty to be thankful for, including:

• A fresh batch of yarn from a new-to-me online yarn shop, The Woolly Thistle. I purchased enough yarn to make Anna Sjösvärd's Vittra Sweater. I’m ready to cast on some new, wooly Lettlopi yarn in plum and straw yellow.

• A visit home to see my mom, dad, and grandma. I love these Green Mountains but Northern New York will always call me home. Extra treats were stops at Stewarts, a local Upstate New York treasure, and a local market for Croghan bologna to have on days when I want a taste of home.

• My husband, who pulled together so many meals, held my hand and comforted me through this emotionally and physically challenging time of being relentlessly sick. His stalwart support is what is getting me through.

• Mac Barnett and Jon Klassen have a new collaboration in the form of a children’s book for Christmas with all the curious questions you could ever possibly think of when it comes to Old Saint Nick. It’s a hit in this household.

• I’m not totally back in the swing of cooking quite yet, but I’ve been enjoying reading through good recipes, and this one from Smitten Kitchen caught my eye.

• Am I ready to publically admit in my newsletter that I watch Real Housewives and the new iteration of RHONY has me smitten? Maybe not, but these ladies are smart, accomplished, and ready to show us who they are (or as much as they are willing to for reality TV) and I’m on board. Which team am I on, you ask? Team Jenna F*cking Lyons.

• This quote from Cynthia Rylant’s beautiful children’s book perfectly encapsulates the month ahead, which means I must share.

“In November, the earth is growing quiet. It is making its bed, a winter bed for flowers and small creatures. The bed is white and silent, and much life can hide beneath its blankets”

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So that’s all for now. Thanks for stopping by. I hope you’ll say hello and tell me what you’re reading and loving. I’d love to chat with you. Until next time, I’ll be reading and hopefully getting better by the day.