Growing Up Plain

This was one of those books that just kind of appeared in my house.  I have no idea what it's origins are, but it was a great book.  Growing Up Plain is the ramble-y reminiscences of a woman who grew up in a Conservative Mennonite (I was amazed that Wikipedia had a page on Conservative Mennonites! Dear Wikipedia, you know everything) home in the 50s.  Each chapter is just a string of stories, following Shirley Kurtz through her childhood all the way to college.  The book was really short-only about 75 pages- and I sped through it.

Now for my analysis of the book.  Kurtz is an extremely gifted writer.  She has a funny voice that comes through clearly in all of her books and the ability to make you understand a very niche viewpoint.  That said, the book was quite skimpy.  It felt almost like a book of memories that you would write down for your children to read and remember instead of a published book.  Kurtz occasionally went off on little tangents, analyzing a boy at school or the way the bishops behaved when she was a girl.  The wasn't necessary and I think that the book could have been made a little more concise if those parts had been left out.  I also think that this book would make a lot more sense if you at least have some understanding of Conservative Mennonite culture.  This is not a book for somebody who has never even heard of these people.  However, if you have read something before this or perhaps even know a Conservative Mennonite, this is going to be a very interesting and funny read.  Kurtz's stories are interesting and understandable to those who know about where she came from.

If you want to read this book (and I recommend that you do), but have no prior knowledge of Conservative Mennonites, start by reading An Introduction to Old Order and Conservative Mennonite Groups.  This will be good place to get started and then you'll really enjoy Growing Up Plain.
           

Ps.  I'm experimenting with using amazon affiliates program.  This means that if any of my readers follow this link and buy the product I linked to, I will get a small commission. I promise that all the opinions on this blog are still my own and amazon has not paid me anything to review a book one way or the other.  Please let me know if you have any questions.  I'll be more than happy to answer them.

Mary Stewart Series: Wildfire at Midnight

This book was wonderful.  I read it in a day while I lounged on the couch with ice packs.  The story was about young Gianetta, a woman who has just had a painful divorce from her much different, brilliant author husband.  Feeling sad and lonely, she travels to a hotel on some remote Gaelic island to stay for the summer.  While there, she discovers that there is a strange mystery in her midst.  Just a week before she arrived, somebody among the hotel party shot a villager.  Everybody urges Gianetta to return home at once, but she is determined to find the murderer.  Into this scene comes her ex-husband.  A few days later, two women from the hotel who were hiking are killed.  The anxiety in the hotel reaches a new level as police and inspectors swarm the place looking for the murderer.  Meanwhile, Gianetta finds herself drawn to a handsome and mysterious visitor at the hotel who her ex-husband strongly dislikes.

Isn't her coat and that purple and gold scarf pretty?
I think I need a 50s plaid coat.

This book was far more murder mystery-ish than any of Mary Stewart's books.  However, there were still the same cozy descriptions of the outdoors and of the clothes.  This is one of my favorite things about Stewart's writing.  I was also pleased because this the first time that I guessed correctly who the murderer was.

I recommend this book for pretty much anybody.  It's a good book for people who like to read thrillers, for people who like mysteries, romances, and vintage books.  It's a wonderful book and I'm already starting in on another Mary Stewart book.

Reading and Reading (Or Library Loot 5/13/14)

Today, I spent the majority of the morning sitting in a dental chair under general anesthetic.  This does not translate to wonderful writing of blog posts-just so you're warned in advance.  The surgery turned out great, but I still will be pretty much stuck on the couch or in the recliner for the next couple of days with ice packs on my face.  But do you know what that means?  It means I get a ton of free reading time!  No people interrupting me to explain something or go do something or ask me a question....just quiet reading and butterscotch custard.  Ah....

This blog post is going to be my (very late) Library Loot post, a weekly link-up from Captive Reader.
The books in this post aren't truly loot from the public library because, silly me, I didn't stock up on library books before my dental work.  However, I'm am lucky to have a large personal library and a few books left over from last week's haul, not to mention those Mary Stewart books I just ordered.  So here's my library loot for the week:

I think this should keep me engrossed for quite a while, although it might take me less time to finish these that I think.  Already, I've finished Growing Up Plain and Wildfire at Midnight.  There are going to be lots of book reviews on this blog very soon!

The Data

The poll about how to pronounce the name Flavia from the Flavia de Luce books is over.  The result is that the name is....
Flaevia!  5 out of 6 people agreed that the name was Flaevia, while 1 person told me it was Flahvia.  Since the one person who disagreed is a member of my family who never read the books (*cough* Aden *cough*), I'm going with the other 83% that say Flaevia.  Now I just have to wait to get the last book back (it was accidentally returned to the library) and I'll be all set!
So now you know.  In other news, this is what I'm going to be doing today:

That green stuff is flats of little plants waiting to go in the dirt.

People, look at all the onions!

"My Mother Read to Me"

I had a mother who read to me

Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,

Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,

"Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath.

I had a Mother who read me lays

Of ancient and gallant and golden days;

Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,

Which every boy has a right to know.

I had a Mother who read me tales

Of Gelert the hound of the hills of Wales,

True to his trust till his tragic death,

Faithfulness blent with his final breath.

I had a Mother who read me the things

That wholesome life to the boy heart brings--

Stories that stir with an upward touch,

Oh, that each mother of boys were such!

You may have tangible wealth untold;

Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.

Richer than I you can never be--

I had a Mother who read to me.

-By Strickland Gillilan

Happy Mothers Day to all of you and in particular to my own mother!

Knickerbocker Knockabout

Would you like to hear a gripping, enthralling, edge-of-your-seat story written by yours truly?  Well, here goes.

The pasture where our escapee first headed to

Two days ago, we decided to move the pigs.  Remember those cute babies?  Well, they have grown decidedly bigger and louder and it was time for them to move from their little nursery (the horse stall) out to the big world.

The brambles she got caught in.  She still has a scratched up
nose to show for it.

The first drama came when we went to pick up the pigs.  They screamed like I have never heard anything scream before.  Loud, piercing screams.  After hastily dumping them down in the middle of the pasture, we realized that they needed to be shooed chased madly into their house (where the food and water will be) for a couple of days until they learn that that is their home base.

The place where she ducked under the fence.  

Two of the pigs, after being chased around and around, decided to go where they were supposed to go.  We were relieved, but there was that one stubborn pig that was determined to stay right where she was.  We started to shoo her and, just then, she decided to dodge between my legs and charge straight through the electric wire.  I have never seen an animal so determined to get through an electric wire in all my life.  She dodged through the wire and then ducked right under the (we thought) carefully sealed gate.  I really thought I was going to lose my mind.  Here was a pig that, evidently, had no respect for an electric wire and 60 acres (not counting the neighbors') on which to charge madly.  I briefly considered just letting the dumb thing wander through the woods for the rest of her life.

This gate to the pasture where the pigs were supposed to be.

However, we took off again, chasing this pig over hill and dale (actually, it over through knee-deep pasture and brambles).  This pig first of all decided to take off through one of the biggest pastures.  She ran at a breakneck pace that none of us could keep up with and then plunged herself into neck deep brambles.  We were sure that we could catch her because she was caught, but when I reached for her, she managed to tear herself loose and run again through the electric wire and through the barn and through some more pasture before finally turning around and racing through the open gate into the pasture where she was supposed to be.  Exhausted, she threw herself down directly on the electric wire and it began repeatedly shocking her.  I don't know if the little burning sensation calmed her, but she didn't budge.  We turned the electric wire off and gently walked her back to her sisters in the barn.  She went without a peep.

The three piggies.  The one of the left is the escape artist.

Yesterday, my grandmother reminded me of a poem from the children's book, Father Fox's Penny-Rhymes.

"Knickerbocker Knockabout
Sausages and Sauerkraut
Run, run, run, the hogs are out!
Knickerbocker Knockabout"

All's well that ends well...

Card Game Bookmarks

A few days ago, I cleaned out our family's game chest.  Ahem.  That was quite the job, let me tell you.

The bottom of the chest, once all of the board games had been removed.

However, I got a sparkling clean, organized game chest out of it and something else...

I got bookmarks!  I am always on the lookout for pretty, interesting bookmarks.  Of course, scrap paper and business cards work fine, but it's always fun to have something a little nicer.  While cleaning out the game cupboard, I came across several sad cards.  They were from the vintage card game Authors.   (This game I linked to is identical to ours, except that ours never included anything so modern as a female author.  I mean, Lousia May Alcott?  Come, come!  She isn't great like old Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and Robert Louis Stevenson, who, according to this game, looks like a drug addict.)  The cards were originally complete, but over the years, we've lost pieces and we almost never played the game, so I have relegated them to bookmarks.  I think it fitting that the authors cards are being used to mark books.  Even though the authors on the cards are ridiculously non-representative of all the authors out there, I am fond of the old dears and I'm glad they get a new job.

Anyway, I thought you might like to meet a few of the cards bookmarks.

I'm sorry it's so blurry.  The camera was being whiney.  But you get
the idea here.  This is R.L. Stevenson

Nathaniel Hawthorne

Washington Irving

Edgar Allan Poe...I can't decide whether he's looking grim
or just determined.

There are several others, but I didn't think you would want to see every single one of them.  I'm very curious as to when these were made.  Evidently a time where white male authors were THE author.  What do you think?  They make fantastic bookmarks!