Certain people around here don't know how hard it is for me to sit on news of the magnitude I'm sitting on and not rupture something
Not that I know *all* the news, just that news has arrived and its reveal is imminent but it's not my place to announce the news so here I sit, looking right girly in Rick's dress.
So here's the deal: This book is indeed a soppy romance story featuring, at the end, an English Ignatius J. Reilly who gets locked in the dungeon of an ancient castle tower until he writes the second book of his genius career and the family is set back on kilter, or at least as much on kilter as the family could be.
I liked it. It felt a little ponderous and wandering, but at least it had a plot, unlike John Crowley's "Little, Big," to which I compared the book earlier this year.
If you want eccentric rural with a lot more humor, pick Stella Gibbons' "Cold Comfort Farm," but this book had a slow charm of its own, and built nicely toward the end when I suppose we should be cheering that someone connects with someone else. And they do, in ways you expect because that's how the expectations were set up waaaaaay at the beginning.
Dodie Smith does keep the story going, however, something Crowley didn't seem bothered to do. But it could have used a lot more of Gibbons' humor.
As I sometimes to at church as and after we sing hymns in Sacrament Meeting, I looked up the history of the lyricist or composer of one of the songs we sang.
We sang for Sacrament "In Humility, Our Savior," which has long been one of my favorite hymns, and is in fact one I became most familiar with as I served a mission in France, as the hymn is one the saints there love. In fact, the three songs we sang today were very popular in France.
Anyway, this lady is Mabel Jones Gabbott, born in Malad, Idaho, as part of a colony of Welsh Mormons who settled the area. She grew to have a love of words, fed in part by Welsh traditions of singing and storytelling. More of her story here.
She spent a life with words, crafting hymns, poems, and editing many works for various church magazines. In her life is proof that one doesn't have to have widespread recognition to contribute to the greater good.
One of her most recognized works is the poem "Eve and I," which she wrote as she realized there was little told from Eve's point of view in the creation story. It's a lovely poem:
Matchpoint Drive residents will be glad to know we declampetted our front porch. The broken-down toilets are finally gone.
Neighbors have indeed chimed in:
Isaac, looking for things to do as he waits for the mission call, split up a ton of the wood we have left in the front yard from the pine tree, probably almost half of what's left, so the yard is looking excessively bare tonight.
CLOCK. The clock, which we discovered today is technically a "grandmother clock," is fixed. Brad from The Clock Doc down in Utah happened to be planning a series of service calls in our area and was able to come today.
It turns out that the little fork that held the pendulum attachment to the clock was indeed bent a little bit, but he had the experience to know how to bend it back into shape and to get the clock working again. While he was there he gave it a tune-up and a good cleaning. We didn't necessarily have the $350 to spend on it, but it made sense to have the work done while he was here and the clock was in pieces anyway.
I didn't take any pictures while the clock was being worked on, which now seems like a mistake.
I'm glad it's working again. I love hearing that clock chime.
Here is a picture of the clock, though.
And his business card, if you're interested.
HACKERS. The Hack on Canvas appears to be over, but as usual we don't really get to hear what actually happened. I don't imagine anyone paid the ransom that was being asked for - at least I hope they didn't.
Indy and Harry
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And another book blog is complete.
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Here at the End of All Things
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Astoria: John Jacob Astor and Thomas Jefferson's Lost Pacific Empire. 366 pages.
Portable Door, The; by Tom Holt. 404 pages.
Read in 2026
Al Capone does my Homework, by Gennifer Choldenko. 214 pages.
Bear that Wasn't, The; by Frank Tashlin. 64 pages.
Christmas Box Miracle, The; by Richard Paul Evans. 261 pages.
Complete Ripping Yarns, The; by Michael Palin and Terry Jones. 278 pages.
Cowboy and His Elephant, The; by Malcolm MacPherson.240 pages.
Dirks Escape, The; by C. Brandon Rimmer. 191 pages.
Dog for All Seasons, A; by Patti Sherlock. 244 pages.
Dragonhaven, by Robin McKinley. 342 pages.
I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith. 343 pages.
Kaboom Boys, The; by Elaine Hume Peake and Don Keith. 345 pages.
Last Battle, The; by Cornelius Ryan. 571 pages.
Mogo's Flute, by Hilda van Stockum. 87 pages.
One Corpse Too Many, by Ellis Peters. 285 pages.
Possum that Didn't, The; by Frank Tashlin. 64 pages.
Rare Benedictine, A; by Ellis Peters. 150 pages.
Relativity: The Special and General Theory, by Albert Einstein. 164 pages
Social Contract, The; by Jean-Jacques Rousseau. 188 pages.
Tales of the Peculiar, by Ransom Riggs. 190 pages.
There's Treasure Everywhere, by Bill Watterson. 173 pages.
Ze Page Total: 4,395
The Best Part
One Corpse Too Many, by Ellis Peters
Cadfael was left to do everything alone, but he had in his time laboured under far hotter suns than this, and was doggedly determined not to let his domain run wild, whether the outside world fell into chaos or no.