2015 Reading: Second Half

I had a goal to read 65 books this year. When I recapped the first half of the year, I was a little worried because I was only up to 30. But between taking a three-week blogging break and reading some quick reads (shhhh), I managed to read 38 books during the second half of the year, which brought my total up to 68. Maybe 2016 will finally be the year when I break the 70 mark.

Here's what I read from July-December. (Book titles are linked to my full reviews.)

1. Henry and the Clubhouse by Beverly Cleary, 8/10 (readaloud)
Ramona is in fine form, and Henry takes it all in stride (except for the part when she locks him up in his own clubhouse--then he kind of loses it).

2. Ramona and Her Father by Beverly Cleary, 8/10 (readaloud)
A little more serious than some of the other Ramona books. Having your dad lose his job will do that to a story.

3. It's All Too Much: An Easy Plan For Living a Richer Life With Less Stuff by Peter Walsh, 7/10 (audio)
I appreciated that he treated stuff as stuff rather than faithful companions, but his actual outline for purging got a little repetitive and tedious.

4. As You Wish: Inconceivable Tales From the Making of The Princess Bride by Cary Ewles, 9/10 (audio)
This book totally transformed my attitude towards The Princess Bride from indifferent, maybe even a little cool, to devoted fan. Also, the audio version is a must.

5. Conversations With a Moonflower by Christine T. Hall, 5/10
The metaphor was a little overdone in this short book, but it made us plant a moonflower in our backyard and the flowers really do open up extremely quickly.

6. Design Mom: How to Live With Kids: A Room-By-Room Guide by Gabrielle Stanley Blair, 8/10
A design book about living with kids that makes you think the author must have actually lived with kids (she does, in fact, have six of her own).

7. The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin, 8/10
A book about books and the unpredictability of life. Told in sparse but mesmerizing language.

8. Where the Mountain Meets the Moon by Grace Lin, 8/10 (audio)
A poignant story that surprised me in a dozen delightful ways.

9. Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling, 5/10 (readaloud)
My kids enjoyed this book far more than I did.

10. Necessary Lies by Diane Chamberlain, 8/10
If you're looking for a good book club book, pick this one.

11. Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren, 8/10 (readaloud)
Pippi gave us plenty to laugh about. She's one of a kind.

12. Emily's Quest by L.M. Montgomery, 8/10
My favorite of the trilogy, and it has a good nail-biting scene at the end.

13. Fantastic Mr. Fox by Roald Dahl, 7/10 (readaloud)
My kids are still singing the song about Boggis and Bunce and Bean.

14. Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, 7/10
I liked it, but I think I'd be praising it a lot more if I actually enjoyed post-apocalyptic fiction.

15. The Story of the World: Early Modern Times by Susan Wise Bauer, 7/10 (readaloud)
Perhaps the most challenging book I read to my kids this year, but so rewarding. (And you have to check out our timeline . . . that's my favorite part!)

16. All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, 8/10 (audio)
Really loved the way this story was told--with the events of the past eventually colliding with the present. I like happy endings though.

17. Believing Christ by Stephen E. Robinson, 8/10
The parable of the bicycle, which has made this book so well-known and loved, was not worth reading this book for. Other parts, however, were.

18. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling, 10/10 (readaloud)
What can I say? Harry Potter is casting his spell on a new generation, and my kids are included.

19. Primates of Park Avenue by Wednesday Martin, 5/10
I started out being completely fascinated by this book, but by the end, I was completely disgusted. Two thumbs down.

20. The Secret Keeper by Kate Morton, 9/10 (audio)
This book has one of the best twists I've ever read.

21. Mister Pip by Lloyd Jones, 3/10
In spite of a good 100-page run in the middle, the beginning was too confusing and the ending was too horrific for me.

22. The Wolves of Willoughby Chase by Joan Aiken, 8/10 (readaloud)
My kids love a despicable villain, and Miss Slighcarp is one of the best (i.e., worst).

23. Morality For Beautiful Girls by Alexander McCall Smith, 6/10 (audio)
Mma Makutsi gets the gold star for this book. She basically saves two businesses and then solves a mystery in her downtime.

24. The Little Leftover Witch by Florence Laughlin, 6/10 (readaloud)
Cute story, but I'll probably have forgotten most of it by next Halloween.

25. The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, 8/10
There are things I could complain about (and I do in my full review), but overall I loved this creative spin on The Jungle Book.

26. The Unrest Cure and Other Stories by Saki, 8/10
I searched (and searched) (and searched) for a short stories collection that I would like and finally struck gold. Witty, with a touch of the morbid.

27. Honey For a Child's Heart: The Imaginative Use of Books in Family Life by Gladys Hunt, 8/10
The book lists that make up the second half of this book are treasures. (Also, sometimes I get overwhelmed by all of the good books I haven't read yet, and this was one of those times.)

28. Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End by Atul Gawande, 10/10 (audio)
Probably the book I talked about and recommended the most during 2015.

29. Dominic by William Steig, 7/10 (readaloud)
Dominic's adventurous spirit and positive attitude are contagious.

30. Little Men by Louisa May Alcott, 10/10 (audio)
If you think you can't find parenting advice in fiction, read this book.

31. Sideways Stories From Wayside School by Louis Sachar, 8/10
I read this book because Aaron was reading it, and I enjoyed it just as much as he did.

32. Santa Maybe by Aubrey Mace, 6/10
I couldn't get a single new fluffy Christmas book from the library, so I reread this one from a few years ago. Although still entertaining, it didn't hold up very well to a second reading.

33. The Sound of Paper by Julia Cameron, 4/10
Feeling really sad that I wasted so much of my year on this book. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't what I was hoping for either.

34. My Life in France by Julia Child, 8/10 (audio)
I think I would have been totally intimidated by Julia Child in real life, but I sure loved reading her memoir.

35. Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder, 10/10 (readaloud)
Contented sigh. I love this book.

36. The Man Who Changed How Boys and Toys Were Made by Bruce Watson, 7/10
Really fascinating biography about A.C. Gilbert, the man who invented the Erector set. (Full review coming soon.)

37. The Family Under the Bridge by Natalie Savage Carlson, 8/10 (readaloud)
Perfect read for this time of year. (Full review coming soon.)

38. Wayside School is Falling Down by Louis Sachar, 8/10
I wasn't really planning on reading another Wayside book, but Aaron told me I had to.  And I'm glad I listened to him. (Full review coming soon.)

It has been such a great year of reading for me, and I hope you can say the same. Have you read any of these books? Tell me what you thought about them!

Reading Goals: I Did It!

I just thought about how sad it would be if I sat down to write this post and realized that I'd inadvertently forgotten one of my goals. I guess there would still be a few more days before the end of 2015 to try to cram it in, but I'm not a fast reader, so I'd probably just have to admit defeat. Luckily, I don't think that happened. I guess I'll see as I write up this report (book titles linked to full reviews).

1. Read a past Newbery honor and a past Newbery winner
I loved this goal. It helped me consider anew books from several (or many) years ago instead of focusing on just all the up and coming books. There are so many truly fantastic books that have already been published that even if all the publishing houses closed their doors for 2016, there would still be more good books than I could possibly read in my lifetime. However (and thankfully), I don't think that's going to happen, and my one regret about this goal is that because of it, I didn't really pay much attention to the current middle grade novels. Now the Newbery is going to be announced next month, and I don't even have a book to cheer for. Next year, I'm going to try to strike more of a balance between past and current.

April 2015: Ginger Pye by Eleanor Estes (Newbery medal 1952)
July 2015: Ramona and Her Father by Beverly Cleary (Newbery honor 1978)
July 2015: Where the Mountain Meets the Moon by Grace Lin (Newbery honor 2010)
October 2015: The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman (Newbery medal 2009)
December 2015: The Family Under the Bridge by Natalie Savage Carlson (Newbery Honor 1959)

2. Read two classics by female authors
This was one of my favorite goals to accomplish this year for two reasons: I felt a major sense of accomplishment when I finished Middlemarch (April 2015) by George Eliot (a new-to-me author), and I discovered a new favorite book when I read Little Men (November 2015) by Louisa May Alcott (a new book by an author I'd read before). In fact, I loved Little Men so much that I'm trying to figure out a way to incorporate more of Louisa May Alcott's work into my goals for 2016.

3. Read a book I put on my to-read list in 2010
I made this same type of goal last year, and it's a great one because it makes me look with new eyes at all those books that have been sitting, neglected and overlooked, on my to-read shelf for five years. I read The Education of Little Tree (May 2015) by Forrest Carter (which I added in July 2010) and The Wolves of Willoughby Chase (October 2015) by Joan Aiken (which I added in March 2010). Next year, I'll be tackling a book or two from the books I shelved in 2011.

4. Read a children's classic
I read Just So Stories (August 2015) by Rudyard Kipling to fulfill this goal, then realized it might have been a better choice for my short stories goal. I also realized that defining a children's classic is a bit arbitrary. How does something become a children's classic? Does it have to be a certain age or read an estimated number of times or have several editions in print? In other words, this goal was more vague than I was planning on. I think I could also count The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (March 2015) by L. Frank Baum and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (February 2015) by C.S. Lewis as children's classics (although I didn't count them originally because it was my second or third time reading them).

5. Read a book on writing
This goal was kind of a flop. I take full responsibility for choosing the wrong book (AND for deciding to stick with it), but The Sound of Paper (almost all of 2015) by Julia Cameron was not really what I was hoping for when I made this goal in January. I was looking for a book that would give me some tools to become a better writer and some prompts to practice with. This was more of a book of encouragement for writers (and artists in general), but it has prompts so it fooled me for the first one hundred pages.

6. Read a short stories collection
This was the most nail-biting of my goals because I tried so many collections before I landed on a good one. I actually had almost given up hope and decided short stories just weren't for me when I struck gold with The Unrest Cure and Other Stories (November 2015) by Saki. I enjoyed these stories so much. I'm glad I didn't just settle for any short stories collection I could find (I should have followed the same method for a book on writing).

7. Read something of a religious nature
I ended up reading two books for this goal, and I liked both of them: Mere Christianity (June 2015) by C.S. Lewis and Believing Christ (October 2015) by Stephen E. Robinson.

8. Read two more installments in series I've already started
This goal will probably continue to show up on future goal lists because I'm notorious for starting series and then never returning to them . . . although I don't know why because it is so fun going back to much-loved characters. This year, I fell in love all over again with the Penderwick girls in The Penderwicks in Spring (April 2015) by Jeanne Birdsall and cheered for Mma Ramotswe and Mma Makutsi in Morality for Beautiful Girls (September 2015) by Alexander McCall Smith.

9. Read a food memoir
After much deliberation (and not being able to get my first choice), I settled on My Life in France (December 2015) by Julia Child. It was so good! I loved learning about this spunky, determined, talented lady. (And then, because I recently was talking about Garlic and Sapphires by Ruth Reichl and literally felt hungry for her words, I picked up her latest book, My Kitchen Year. I don't think I'll get it finished before the end of the year, but I'm finding it very enjoyable.)

10. Finish a series
This goal has been on the 2013, 2014, and 2015 lists, and it's been very rewarding every time. This year, I finished the Emily trilogy by L.M. Montgomery. It wasn't quite as ambitious as the two series I finished in the previous two years since it only required me to read two books instead of four or five, but I'm still pretty certain it wouldn't have happened this year without that goal, so I'm glad I made it. I thoroughly enjoyed Emily Climbs (March 2015) and Emily's Quest (August 2015), but Emily will never replace Anne for me because Teddy Kent doesn't hold a candle to Gilbert Blythe. And that's the truth.

I have so many reasons why I love making these goals, not the least of which is that they prevent me from basically ever falling into a reading slump. If I ever can't decide what I should read next, I just turn to my year's list of goals, and the options open up. I'll be talking about my 2016 reading goals next week!

Tell me about the books you read this year! Favorite? Most ambitious? Most tedious?

One of My Favorite Christmas Scenes

But in the toe of the sock there was still something more. It was small and thin and hard. Almanzo couldn't imagine what it was. He pulled it out, and it was a jack-knife. It had four blades.

Almanzo yelled and yelled. He snapped all the blades open, sharp and shining, and he yelled,

"Alice, look! Look, Royal! Lookee, lookee my jack-knife! Looky my cap!"

Father's voice came out of the dark bedroom and said:

"Look at the clock."

They all looked at one another. Then Royal held up the candle and they looked at the tall clock. Its hands pointed to half past three.

--From Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder

May your Christmas be just as joyful as Almanzo's (although, for your sake, I hope it doesn't start quite so early). Thank you for being such faithful readers of this little blog. It is a pleasure sharing and discussing books and reading and life with you. Merry, merry Christmas!

P.S. For more holiday reading, visit these favorite posts from the past:

• Book review of The Mansion by Henry Van Dyke
• A surprise Christmas present from the past
• Five things I could do without during the Christmas season 
• Making books a part of your family traditions   
• A perfectly eclectic Christmas tree

Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder

One of the things I enjoy most about being a mom is sharing my favorite books with my kids. It's almost like I get to experience those stories for the first time all over again. My kids' excitement (or anticipation) (or fear) (or disgust) become mine, and it's absolutely delightful.

Unless . . . they don't like the book.

That happened with The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo. And also with The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright. In both cases, it wasn't so much that they didn't like the books but just that I'd jumped the gun a bit and introduced them a little too early when they were too young to really understand and appreciate them.

Because of those two fails, I've been worried about when to read another favorite of mine: Farmer Boy. I'd almost picked it up several times before but let it go a few months longer. But then, as this year's holiday season approached, I knew it was either now or wait another year (it's just such a good book to read around Thanksgiving and Christmas).

And so we went for it.

But not before I clutched the book to my chest and told Aaron and Maxwell, "This is one of my very favorite books. You have to like it." Bad form, I know.

Luckily, they pretty much ignored my plea and just let the story work its own magic, which it did.

Farmer Boy is the only book in the Little House series that stars Almanzo Wilder (Laura's future husband). His growing up years were completely different from Laura's. He grew up on a farm in New England--a very stable and secure farm. His father loved his farm and had no intention of going anywhere. He definitely didn't have the same wanderlust bug that Charles Ingalls had.

Their farm is very prosperous, and they are incredibly self-sufficient. They make money by raising and selling horses, as well as potatoes, hay, and grain, but I kind of wondered what they were spending that money on. They raise everything they eat. They make everything they wear. They build everything they use. Money for them seems purely for pleasure and not for survival.

Almanzo is the youngest, coming after Royal, Eliza Jane, and Alice. Unlike Royal, who plans to be a storekeeper one day, Almanzo loves the farm, and especially the horses. Almanzo wants so badly to help break Starlight, the youngest colt, but his father won't let him go near him. Almanzo is only nine years old and can't be trusted yet not to teach the colt bad habits.

Through the year, he gradually earns that trust by breaking a young head of oxen he gets for his birthday and raising his own pig and helping haul wood and a dozen other things. His father sees his hard work and maturity and finally trusts Almanzo with the very thing he's been longing for.

The book begins a little intense (scary or exciting, depending on how you look at it). There is a new teacher, Mr. Corse, and the big boys in the school are determined to thrash him and throw him out just like they have the previous two teachers. These are not just obnoxious or disruptive boys. They are tough and violent. They hurt one of the other teachers so badly that he later died. They aren't the type of boys to take lightly, yet Mr. Corse knows he has to firmly set rules and boundaries right from the beginning or they will never be satisfied and will continue to demand their own way.

I have to admit, I'd forgotten about this opening story. It's interesting how everything takes on a different hue when you're sharing it with your kids. I was a little worried it might traumatize them and make them afraid to go to school. But not at all. They viewed those bullies the same way they do all villains: as someone to be defeated. So the showdown between Mr. Corse and the bullies was extremely exciting, and Mr. Corse got the upperhand, which was very satisfying.

Our favorite chapter was "Keeping House" where Mother and Father leave for a week and put Royal and Eliza Jane in charge. As you might expect, they really live it up the first few days. They make ice cream and candy using the white sugar, which is supposed to be kept for special occasions only. They let the house and the garden go and spend their days fishing and playing. Then one morning, they wake up and realize that Mother and Father will be home soon. In a frenzy, they begin cleaning and putting things in order. Almanzo gets so tired of being bossed around that he and Eliza Jane have a little shouting match which ends when Almanzo throws his blacking brush at the parlor wall, leaving an ugly black splotch.

He is horrified by what he's done and dreads Mother finding out. After she comes home and is so pleased to find everything else in order, it says, "He did not want her to know about the black splotch, and yet he wished she did know. When the worst was over he could stop dreading it." That is the perfect description of guilt--it eats away at you and makes it so you can't focus on or enjoy anything else. Those of you who have read the book will remember what finally happens, and I won't spoil it for the rest of you because it is one of the best scenes in the entire book. My kids were so anxious and worried before finally breathing a sigh of relief.

One of the things I loved the most about the book was the strong work ethic demonstrated by the Wilder family. It defines their lives and gives meaning to them. This quote from the chapter about the county fair shows what I mean:

"There was another day of the Fair, but it wasn't so much fun. Almanzo was tired of having a good time. Three days of it were too much. It didn't seem right to be dressed up again and leaving the farm. He felt unsettled, as he did at house-cleaning time. He was glad when the Fair was over and everything could go on as usual."

Or this one, when Almanzo and his father are threshing wheat and Almanzo wonders why they don't use a machine to do it. His father explains, "All it saves is time, son. And what good is time, with nothing to do? You want to sit and twiddle your thumbs, all these stormy winter days?"

Lately, Maxwell has been waxing eloquent on work, and I have to wonder if it's a direct result of reading this book. After doing his chores, he says things like, "I feel so good after I work" and "Work gives me energy." That's definitely the feeling you get from reading Almanzo's story: work is something to enjoy not endure, to take pride in and feel grateful for. As much fun as it is to laze around, the real satisfaction comes from accomplishing meaningful things, and I think my kids are slowly beginning to realize that.

Another thing they're realizing is how easy and posh of a life they have. They're not getting up at four o'clock in the morning to take care of the stock. They're not spending all day cutting ice or hauling timber. They're not heating water on the stove so they can take a bath once a week (although, a couple of Sundays ago, we ran out of hot water, and Aaron hadn't taken a shower yet. Mike heated up some water in the microwave, and we joked that it was a Farmer Boy shower even though it wasn't anything close to one). This is why reading is the perfect pastime. Through stories, they can learn about a different time and way of life and gain a deeper appreciation for their own lives.

And then, of course, I can't end this review without mentioning the food. The descriptions of food in this book are agonizingly vivid. On more than one occasion, after hearing about the doughnuts and pies Almanzo was scarfing down, Aaron moaned, "Oh, I'm soooooo hungry." They definitely eat well, that Wilder family.

We haven't read any of the other books in the Little House series yet. I purposely started with this one because I thought it was more exciting and interesting than Little House in the Big Woods. But now they're hooked, and I know they'll enjoy the rest of the series (but I'm a little sad that this is the only one that stars young Almanzo).

Which book is your favorite in the series? Would you start with this one or do you think the series should be read in order?

My Life in France by Julia Child (with Alex Prud'homme)

I like my yearly reading goals to be a nice mix of challenging and entertaining. As awesome as it would be to be really ambitious and set my sights high, I know if I load up my list with only dense, heavy works, I'll burn out very quickly and lose the joy of reading. So that is why I always include a few goals that are purely for fun.

"Read a food memoir" was one of the fun goals this year. I originally planned on reading Bread & Wine by Shauna Niequist, but when our library didn't own a copy, I switched to My Life in France.
Before picking it up, I had the very vaguest knowledge of Julia Child. I knew she was an American with a very vibrant personality who liked to cook French food. That was about it. But I soon discovered that while I was entirely accurate with my bare bones knowledge, it's the details that have made millions of people fall in love with her over the last fifty years.

The memoir begins in 1948 when Julia and Paul Child move to France. Paul works for the government and spent quite a bit of time in France during WWII. Julia has never been to France and does not speak French, but she is game to try just about any adventure. Julia is thirty six years old and has done very little cooking (French or otherwise) up to that point in her life, but she soon falls in love with French food and is determined to learn the French style of cooking. She takes many classes at Le Cordon Bleu and eventually passes the official test and becomes a graduate of the school.

From there, she begins to teach classes of her own and eventually ends up collaborating with two French women on a cookbook that aims to teach Americans the French art of cooking. After a decade of testing, tweaking, and writing, the cookbook is finally published in 1961, which happens to be about the same time that television is taking off in the United States. Julia films a few how-to cooking shows to go along with the book, and they are very well received and make her into something of an international celebrity.

I generally consider food memoirs to be fairly light reads comprised of short, comfortable essays and interspersed with tantalizing recipes, but My Life in France was a little more substantive than that and really focused on the minute details of Julia Child's life and didn't include any recipes. After only a few pages of reading, I switched to the audio version. There was just too much French in the book for this non-French speaker to muddle through. I wanted to be able to hear the names of the people, places, and recipes that were a part of Julia's life.

From the very beginning, I was inspired by Julia's zest for life. Upon arriving in France, she launches herself into French culture and customs (she can't fathom why some expats want to live with a bunch of other Americans instead of getting the full French experience). She diligently studies the language (and practices every chance she can get). Once she decides she wants to learn how to cook, she jumps in with both feet.

She's like that with everything. One time they're in England and choke down a terrible meal. She says, "It was truly horrible to eat but a wonderful cultural experience." She seems to always be looking for the silver lining. When Paul gets transferred to Marseille, she embraces the quiet change of pace. When one publisher rejects their book, she's relieved because she doesn't think it would have been a good fit anyway. When a recipe fails, she's thrilled at the process of trial and error.

For many years, she and Paul own a quiet little cottage outside Provence that they name La Peetch. When Paul's health begins to decline, Julia decides it's time to let it go. When someone asks her if she will miss it, she says, "I've always felt that when I'm done with something I just walk away from it--fin!" She just expects life to be enjoyable and exciting, and it doesn't disappoint.

One of the really interesting things about this book was catching a glimpse at the collaborative writing process in the 1960's. Julia writes Mastering the Art of French Cooking with two friends, Simca and Louisette (although Louisette doesn't contribute as much by the end). For much of the book-writing process, they don't live in the same city (and, at times, not even the same country), and so all of their correspondence happens through letters. Julia talks about "firing off" letters back and forth to each other, but I had to wonder how quickly you can fire off anything if you have an ocean between you? In this day, when you could email each other back and forth a hundred times in one day, the thought of asking a question or making a suggestion and not getting a response back for several days seemed indescribably tedious. I have to wonder if this was part of the reason the book took them a whole decade to write (not that I'm forgetting that it's 750 pages long and contains hundreds of fool-proof recipes). It's just such a different time we live in.

But the thing I loved the very most about this book was learning that Julia Child didn't settle into her true passion until she was close to forty years old. I don't know why, but I always worry that I'm not going to have enough time in my life to do everything I want to do. Sometimes I think I'm probably already too old to tackle something new. Reading this made me realize that the sky is still the limit for me. Julia didn't even know how to cook until she was 37 years old, but ten years later she had made herself an authority on the subject.

Even though I ended up listening instead of reading, I kept the book because it contains dozens of photos (including the scandalous bathtub photo that she and Paul used for their Valentine's cards) that contributed so much to giving a very candid look at Julia's life. Out of curiosity, I also had to look up Julia's early cooking videos, which were wonderfully unedited and unscripted (although I think her voice might drive me batty if I had to listen to it for very long at a time). And finally, I've bumped up Julie and Julia on my list of must-watch movies, and I'm planning to follow through over the Christmas break. In short, I just can't get enough of this intelligent, flamboyant, life-loving person.

The Book Blab Episode 2: Pretty Books for Pretty Gifts Plus Two Favorite Books Published in 2015

This past Wednesday evening, Suzanne and I got together via Blab for the second episode of our new monthly video series. Mike was out of town this week, and so I had to do some serious bribing to ensure that my kids didn't come screaming or tattling into the room while I was recording. Turns out, however, it wasn't my kids I needed to worry about but my other arch nemesis, technology.

So yes, we had a few little technical glitches, mostly on my end. At one point, my connection went a little crazy, and I couldn't hear Suzanne very well, which translated to some blank stares on my part. Luckily, the recording didn't capture those problems (but my blank stares are still there). Also, in listening to it again, there are a few seconds here and there where there is some weird feedback. So I apologize in advance for all of that. I'm discovering that this is one of the drawbacks with doing a live show.

But on the upside, this was an extremely fun episode to record. I honestly think we could have just kept talking and talking . . . and talking, but we showed some restraint so that you can easily watch the replay without it taking up half of your day. You're welcome.

In this episode, we talk about our book buying philosophies, beautiful editions of books, and other related topics. By the end of the night, it was all I could do not to buy every single one of the books we talked about. Consider that your warning: watch at your own risk.

In case you missed it live, you can watch the replay (technical glitches and all) below. And I'd love to hear you weigh in on some of the things we talked about in the comments!

0:20 - Christmas preparations

1:50 - Book buying philosophy

• 2:10 - Suzanne's
• 3:53 - Amy's

5:35 - Beautiful editions

• 5:53 - Suzanne's favorites
• 8:09 - Amy's favorites

11:32 - The problem of not being able to get the entire series in some editions

15:37 - Collected works (pros and cons)

17:42 - Thoughts on the newly illustrated Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

21:15 - (Some of) the books we're buying for Christmas

24:56 - Two favorite books that were published in 2015

• 25:50 - Suzanne's pick
• 27:08 - Amy's pick

30:34 - Conclusion

Links from the show:

The Count of Monte Cristo -  Penguin classics hardcover clothbound edition
Emily of New Moon - Sourcebook edition with cover illustration by Jacqui Oakley
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - Puffin in Bloom edition
A Merry Christmas and Other Christmas Stories - Penguin Christmas Classics edition
Little Men - Hesperus Press edition
Anne of Green Gables - Puffin in Bloom edition
Anne of Green Gables - Aladdin classics edition
Jane Austen collected works - Barnes & Noble Collectible edition
The Chronicles of Narnia collection - Barnes & Noble Collectible edition
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone - Arthur A. Levine Books edition, illustrated by Jim Kay
The Chronicles of Narnia - full color collector's edition by HarperTrophy
Suzanne's review of Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee  
Amy's review of The Penderwicks in Spring by Jeanne Birdsall
 
Now it's your turn: Tell me about the gorgeous editions YOU love, as well as the books you'll be splurging on this holiday season. (Also, what's your opinion on the newly illustrated Harry Potter?) And stay tuned for the date and time of our next episode, airing sometime mid-January! 

The Sounds of the Season (and How I Found Out the Truth About Santa)

It happens every December. I hear the opening notes of "The Christmas Waltz," sung by Karen Carpenter, and time suddenly rushes in reverse. I am five years old again, standing in the wood-paneled living room of my parents' first home. I have a sturdy, homemade ornament in one hand and am reaching for another while my mom tells me "don't grab" and "be patient." Out of the hundreds and thousands of Christmas songs, this is the one, more than any of the others, that says to me, "The Christmas season has officially begun." That song has been a part of every Christmas that I can remember. My mom has always loved the Carpenters, and it seems like theirs was always the first Christmas album we listened to (and I think "The Christmas Waltz" must have been the first song on the album). I love this song because it not only links me to my own past but to my mom's as well, who was listening to the Carpenters long before I was born.

This is not the only song that takes me back to my childhood. This month I've been thinking about the other sounds that tug me back to the past and that make this time of year so nostalgic and sweet.

*****

My family loves traditions and holds to them quite unwaveringly. One of those was an annual reading of The Forgotten Carols by Michael McLean. My dad usually read it over the course of several Sunday drives to church (forty-five minutes one way). The story is about a seemingly senile old man, Uncle John, whom Constance, a nurse, has been asked to help care for over the holidays. My dad used a very clipped, no-nonsense voice for Constance because that's the type of person she was until Uncle John softened her heart through the stories and songs of his past. The book has an accompanying music album that features all of the "forgotten carols" from Uncle John's reminiscences. As each song came up in the story, my dad stopped reading and we listened to it. It was always our rule that we couldn't listen to the album in its entirety until we finished the book. My favorite song was, "The Shepherd," which I even wrote an essay on for a school assignment one time. To this day, those songs make me think of starry nights in a softly thrumming car. (Sadly, after I married Mike, we decided to go see the theater production of The Forgotten Carols, and it kind of ruined the story for me.)

*****

Not music, but the sound of the heater coming on will always take me back to my childhood. In December, we had to rearrange the furniture to accommodate the Christmas tree. We swung one of the couches over so that the corners of the two couches touched and created a little square of space the perfect size for a little girl. There happened to be a heater vent in that little hideout, and I loved to grab a blanket and a book and park myself right on top of it, letting the warm air fill out my blanket and create a pleasantly warm little bubble. Just hearing the sound of the warm air rushing through the vent made me feel warmer even if I couldn't take immediate advantage of it. When my parents moved to a new home when I was fifteen, it had a more "efficient" furnace, which meant that the air that came out of the heater vents was room temperature (i.e., cold) instead of toasty warm. Giving up my beloved heater vents was one of the great losses of my childhood. Luckily, I now live in an old house with an inefficient furnace that regularly spews out warm air throughout the day. (And last week, when our furnace broke, I can't even tell you how much I missed that comforting sound. The house felt stark and bare without it.)

*****

If "The Christmas Waltz" signifies the beginning of the holiday season for me, then Leroy Anderson's "Sleigh Ride" does the same thing for the beginning of winter. Whenever the first snow came (whether it was in September or December), we put on "Sleigh Ride" and ran around the living room in a gloriously carefree dance. The snow drifted down outside (or, more likely, since it was northeastern Colorado, blew sideways) and inside we were warm and happy with hopes of it never stopping and being snowed in for a good week at least. Later in my childhood, the song took on another memory. When my little sister was about two years old, we had a toy horse (the kind that bounces up and down on springs) that resided in our dining room. It looked out the back doors onto the field behind our house, and my sister loved to have my mom put on "Sleigh Ride" while she mounted her beloved horse and took off. Seriously, it's a wonder the springs didn't snap the way she could bounce and make that horse go.

*****

Every year, my family and I bundled up and went caroling to the neighbors. It was something of an ordeal because we took more than our voices along. Instead, we were a caroling family band and went with trumpet, trombone, baritone, French horn, and bells. (I played the trombone and kept the mouthpiece tucked into my hand between stops so that it would stay warm enough to produce some sound.) But it's the bells, the wrist-shaking variety, that mean the most to me in my memories. Maybe it's because I no longer play the trombone, but we do have an identical set of bells that my kids like to shake. Every time I hear them, I remember those caroling trips, but also something else . . .

*****

When I was eight years old, I began to wonder if Santa was real. I don't remember what planted the idea in my head (maybe just growing up), but I determined to find out. Every Christmas Eve, after we acted out the nativity and set out a plate of cookies, my siblings and I put on boots and coats and went out into the frosty night to see if we could see Rudolph's nose or hear Santa's sleigh bells. Miraculously, we usually could see a little red light in the distant sky and hear the faint sound of bells floating by on the wind. Giddy with delight, we'd rush back into the house and jump into bed, confident that Santa was very close to landing on our roof. But that Christmas when I was eight, I wasn't caught up in the magic so much as I was discovering the truth. While my siblings were outside jumping up and and down and pointing wildly, I was back in the house, noiselessly crossing the kitchen floor and creeping down the stairs. As I peeked around the corner, I saw my dad sitting below an outside vent and shaking those infamous bells. Our eyes locked, and the bells abruptly stopped while I sputtered out an accusation. My dad quickly hushed me and took me into a room where we had a quiet heart to heart. I think I was disappointed, even if not surprised (I maybe even shed a few tears in my bed later that night). However, that disappointment melted away once I realized that it's even more fun playing Santa Claus than waiting for him.

I'd love to hear about those sounds that are inextricably linked to YOUR past. Please share your memories in the comments!

P.S. This Wednesday, Suzanne and I will be hosting our second blab. Come join us on December 16th at 7:00 pm MST. You can go directly to the blab website, or watch from either of our sites. Additionally, we'll put up the recorded video with show notes on Thursday or Friday.