“You know you’ve read a good book when you turn the last page and feel a little as if you have lost a friend.”
Paul Sweeney
My goal was to read 50 books in 2023, but I came up a little short. Surprisingly, before 2023, I had never read any Agatha Christie mysteries, and it was a happy introduction. Also, it was fun to read three books together with my teenage homeschoolers: The Hobbit, The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes, and The Screwtape Letters.
My 2023 Books
This little summary is for my own memory, as well as for any who might be interested:
Fever 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson – Fascinating Y/A historical fiction book about Philadelphia’s 1793 yellow fever epidemic.
The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien – I had never read this classic book until I read it with my homeschoolers this year. After finishing, my daughter invited us to watch the movies at her place.
The ABC Murders by Agatha Christie– Now acquainted with Hercule Poirot, I will never look back.
The 10 Commandments of Progressive Christianity by Michael J. Kruger- A short, insightful book, recommended by our pastor.
Breaking Stalin’s Nose by Eugene Yelchin- A moving childrens’ book about a young student living during Stalin’s rule.
Papa is a Poet by Natalie S. Bober – A lovely book written from the perspective of one of Robert Frost’s children.
Stone Stoup – A classic folktale, retold and winsomely illustrated by Marcia Brown. This story is an old favorite of mine.
Death on the Nile by Agatha Christie – I love a story with a twist at the end. Another Hercule Poirot winner.
Fiber Fueled by Will Bulsiewicz – I don’t often choose foodie / health books, but I was on a mission to finish this one before my husband, who is a fan of such knowledge. I listened to this while walking (the perfect health combo) and found it pretty interesting.
My Man Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse – An extremely funny book, written in the early 20th century, about a butler who covertly runs the household in style.
The White Mountains by John Christopher – The first book in an excellent Y/A science fiction trilogy. I suggested it to one of my reluctant teenagers, who ended up gobbling up the entire trilogy.
The Pool of Fire – The second book in the trilogy.
The City of Gold and Lead – The final book in the trilogy.
The Big Four – another Agatha Christie book, and for some reason, this was not memorable.
Gentle and Lowly: The Heart of Christ for Sinners and Sufferers by Dane C. Ortlund- After 30+ years of walking with Christ, I learned some new, deep, and tender insights about the love of God through this book. I look forward to re-reading this.
Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne – Having seen a few versions of the movie, I finally read the book.
The Libyan Diversion by Joel C. Rosenberg – the 5th (and final?) installment of the Marcus Ryker novels, Christian global political thrillers that are always gripping.
Musical Tables: Poems by Billy Collins – These poems made me laugh and cry as I was weeding the garden on a hot summer day.
Running Out of Time by Margaret Peterson Haddix – An exciting book for middle grades, and a fun re-read for me.
Whale Day: And Other Poems by Billy Collins – Another excellent poetry book by the former U.S. poet laureate.
Double Indemnity and
Trial and Error by Robert Whitlow – I was hoping to have found a new cache of Christian mysteries, but these were a bit disappointing. It’s unfair to compare anyone to Agatha Christie, I guess.
Snow and Rose by Emily Winfield Martin – While snooping around on Goodreads, I noticed that my daughter was reading this — so I thought I would join her. It’s a charming variation of the fairy tale Snow White and Rose Red.
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier – I adored this book, and couldn’t help remembering how my mom had unsuccessfully recommended it to me when I was a teenager. So glad I finally read it. Beautifully written, Rebecca is much more than a highly suspenseful mystery.
Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie – I am beginning to feel like Papa Poirot is an old friend.
Watership Down by Richard Adams – This is a lovely book about characters who struggle, grow, face danger, and bond together after fleeing their home. The characters happen to be rabbits, but it’s somehow more than an animal book…
True Grit by Charles Portis – Another book that I shunned during my teenage years — it was assigned in 7th grade American history, but I browsed through it halfheartedly back then. I absolutely love this book about a brave, spunky, and faith-filled teenage girl who hires a rough U.S. Marshal to find her father’s murderer.
The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle – Read together as a homeschool assignment, this book gave us some new spelling and vocabulary words. Although assigned books (and spelling work) can ruin the fun of reading, I’m happy to say that both of my youngest students are now Sherlock Holmes fans.
At Bertram’s Hotel by Agatha Christie – I read an abridged version of this book, and maybe that’s why it wasn’t a top favorite of mine.
The Last Jihad by Joel C. Rosenberg – The first of the Christian / political thriller novels featuring Jon Bennett. A great re-read.
Long Walk Home by DiAnn Mills – Although made interesting and educational with its African setting, this was another Christian mystery that fell flat for me.
4:50 From Paddington by Agatha Christie – Miss Marple was an instant favorite, and this book was too.
A Caribbean Mystery and Nemesis by Agatha Christie – I had forgotten to add Nemesis to my list, so I technically read 49 books instead of 48. I read this duo out of order by reading Nemesis first. But, it really didn’t matter. I enjoyed these mysteries featuring the indomitable Miss Jane Marple.
Crispin: The End of Time by Avi – a happy re-read, stumbled upon when I was searching for something else. I love the Crispin series, and this is the final one of the trilogy.
The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey was recommended to me by my daughter, and it kept me engaged and guessing until the very end. The setting is Alaska during the early 20th century. Beautifully written.
The Mystery of the Blue Train by Agatha Christie is one I don’t recall very well, but as usual, I probably didn’t guess the culprit until the very end.
The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis – Read by myself and my homeschooled teenage sons, the book is a series of “letters” written from one senior demon to his underling nephew, who is trying to lure his target away from God. Apparently, it was one of the author’s least favorite books to write, but it is quite insightful. When we finished, I assigned a paper to be written from the perspective of one senior angel to his underling angel. Although there was some protest about this writing assignment, both students did an amazing job.
In Grandma’s Attic by Arleta Richardson – the first book in an old favorite series, and fun to find on audio.
The Jerusalem Assassin by Joel C. Rosenberg was a re-read of one of my favorite Marcus Ryker novels.
The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie
and The Mysterious Affair at Styles again — read twice during the year, because I forgot the details, and sadly, even the culprit :0. Hercule Poirot’s first mystery.
Boundaries in Marriage by Henry Cloud – I have read parts of the classic book “Boundaries” but this was specifically tailored for married people. Excellent, practical, and highly recommended.
Three Blind Mice by Agatha Christie was a novella with a suprising end that I found free on the Libby app.
Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka is apparently a classic. On the surface, it’s about a man who wakes up one day as a cockroach. I’m sure there is more existential meaning to it than I grasped, but it was darkly entertaining as an audiobook narrated by Benedict Cumberbatch.
The Brave Tin Soldier and Other Tales by Hans Christian Andersen. I admit that as I was trying hard to reach my goal of 50 books, I slipped in some short ones here at the end. But I was fun to get a refresh on a few classic fairy tales.
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie, and
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd again. Featuring Hercule Poirot, this is my favorite Agatha Christie book so far. After reading it once early in the year, the ending took me so by surprise, that I wanted to read it again to catch any missed details.
Watership Down: the Graphic Novel, adapted by James Sturm and illustrated by Joe Sutphin. This was a Christmas gift, given by my daughter who knows I love the original by Richard Adams. What lovely illustrations for a story I know well by now.
My mom and dad were both the youngest children in their families, and we were the youngest of 20 cousins, spread out from Canada to Texas. Diverse locations and age gaps made it a challenge to get to know our cousins. We saw our Kansas and Texas cousins for a fleeting few days in the summer at our grandparents’ lake cottage, but we always felt so young and unsophisticated around them. And, the first time I remember talking to our Las Vegas cousins was when one of the three got married.
Our Local Cousins
We gathered most often with our Minnesota cousins: Cheryl, Craig, and Dave. Cheryl babysat us, read us mysteries, and let us play with her art supplies. When playing ping pong as a teenager with my cousin Craig, I remember the sudden realization that he was quite a nice guy, and Cousin Dave took me horseback riding and inner tubing down Wisconsin’s Apple River. More recently, Dave planned an excellent field trip for our homeschooling family. A mechanical engineer, he worked at a startup that designed innovative medical devices, and our educational tour was the most informative homeschool field trip we have experienced yet.
Thinking of my cousin Dave yesterday prompted me to write briefly about my cousins. His recent and sudden passing is still a shock, and reminds me to appreciate every moment I have with my loved ones.
Our Canadian Cousins
At the same time that my sister Sara and I were still dressing up Barbie dolls, our five Canadian boy cousins were hotly debating politics with their dad. Steve, Tom, Rick, Bruce and Jeff were loud and smart and boyish and funny, and they loved teasing us. When our family drove from Minnesota to Saskatoon to visit them for Christmas, I especially liked hanging out with Bruce and Jeff, who were only a few years older than I. Steve was the oldest, and Tom was the quietest. For Christmas, Tom gifted me and my younger siblings each an entire book series in its own little box. He was the kind of cousin that you could almost have a crush on…but I’m not naming any names. And Cousin Rick made us laugh so hard that you could almost wet your pants. But again — let’s not name any names.
Bernice, the Legendary Cousin
Whenever the women of the family hosted a bridal or baby shower, all of the extended family members came out of the woodwork to join us. Besides Grandma Laura, Great Aunt Eleanor, and Auntie Sonya, the guests included a collection of first and second cousins and cousins once removed.
And there was Bernice, who seemed too old to be a cousin. We always found her friendly and witty and pleasantly interested in us…..but exactly how was she related? When we’d ask our elders, we’d hear a rambling explanation that included several unfamiliar ancestors.
I confess, I would zone out and stop listening to the lineage monologue, only to have to ask again at the next family event.
Note: If any young person is confused about a relative’s place in the family tree, stop what you are doing. Draw a diagram, make copies, laminate, and distribute. Providing a visual will save yourself time and trouble later; if you skip the diagram, you may have to re-explain it every year for the rest of your life….
Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced my own diagram, so I cannot really explain Bernice’s genealogical position to you at this time. Suffice it to say that she is the cousin of a relative, always beloved and favored as a guest at family parties. She also deserves to be a legend because she is the only family member I know who was born on Leap Day. When she turns 100 years old in 2024, Bernice can congratulate herself on technically only having 25 birthdays.
Happy Upcoming Birthday to Bernice, the Legendary Cousin!
The wedding that we talked about all summer, the one that seemed like it was so far off in October…the wedding that was planned and prayed for and paid for is now over.
Glad to be on the inside of decorations and invitations and programs and errand-running and shower-hosting, I felt that the wedding was an intense and holy project that was joyful and satisfying to see played out so smoothly, by God’s grace. I don’t remember shedding a tear – I just felt so happy.
The Big Day was a Minnesota-October-balmy 60 degrees with no wind. The rustic elegance of the barn was charming, the dance was fun, and nobody got poked in the eye with a sparkler.
Last weekend, the bride and groom returned from a dreamy Italian honeymoon and came over to open their gifts. The bride collected some more of her belongings before leaving. She needed hangers, but didn’t “need those shoes anymore, so just give them away.” She wouldn’t need the bulky, childish blankets that had covered her bunkbed for decades, and she bequeathed her quirky avocado toast pillow to a younger brother.
Just like that – she has a new name, husband, and home. She will not miss seeing the same tired faces at the local gym or our long, country driveway where she got stuck on more than one snowy January morning. She doesn’t need the old shoes, book bag, or bedding.
She does, however, need the matcha set and the one remaining glass straw that hasn’t broken yet.
Bear with me as I gather up my post-mother-of-the-bride thoughts and emotions (mostly in check, but I have my moments) and make a parallel here that struck me as I watched her gift that pillow to her brother.
Someday, we will have a new life in heaven. We will have a new name.* We will be changed. We won’t need makeup or trash bags or Netflix or apps or fiber supplements or Chik Fil A or the newest iPhone. What distracts, woos, or tempts us here on earth will seem as meaningless in heaven as a worn out shoe.
We will have new bodies…
Those bodies will be far more glorious than anything we can ever imagine right now. The Bible compares this to the planting of a seed–a seed that may be very small and insignificant and unimpressive, but which sprouts and brings forth something beautiful and glorious. So it will be with the resurrection of the dead. “… it (the body) is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory” (1 Corinthians 15:42-43)”
–Billy Graham
——
These are thoughts for a Sunday afternoon — one where we have been sifting through gift tissue, breaking down Amazon boxes for recycling, and eating up leftover wedding snacks. I just thought I would stop for a quick wedding debrief.
It may not be my last…
*Revelation 2:17; Revelation 3:12; John 14:13-14; 1 John 5:14
I have been parenting teenagers for almost two decades.
You’d think I’d know what I’m doing by now.
But being a parent of multiple teenagers is a mysterious business. If you have the first one figured out, you think you are home free. But, it turns out that teenagers are all different. Cases in point from personal experience:
Some take long, hot-water-guzzling-bathroom-hogging showers every day.
Others have to be reminded to take showers or they’d go months…
Some talk your ear off.
Others don’t talk at all, unless you are in the car driving somewhere (or better yet, letting them practice driving) and they spout volumes, but only when you are not looking at them. (Helpful tip: pretend not to be interested and look out of the window at just anything – farmland, buildings… it doesn’t matter. Do not comment on anything or ask questions. They will probably talk.)
Some eat everything you put in front of them.
Others call from work asking ‘what’s for dinner?’ and when you tell them you are having beans, they cheerfully say “okay” and then you find out later (after you kept dinner warm for them) that they stopped at ChikFilA.
So, I am still learning how to be an effective parent, but I really do have my moments.
When my daughters are buzzing quietly and excitedly about something, I just can’t help myself – I break into their little circle, asking with an eager smile, “What’s going on? What’s happening?”
Poof! They disperse.
BUT TODAY, I am claiming a little piece of victory.
I have noticed a little battle brewing – about breakfast. It’s been going like this:
One of my teenage sons regularly says “no” to breakfast. Doesn’t matter what we are having.
Me: “But you have to eat something.”
Son: “I’m not hungry.”
Me: “Just eat something.”
Son: “I’m just not hungry.”
Me: “You can’t have any snacks then. Nothing until lunch.”
Son: “That’s fine.”
Me: “Are you sure? How about just a little bowl?”
I know. As I write this, it looks so pitiful – me begging and all.
But today, it’s like the Lord made me ready, even as I stirred butter and cream into the apple oatmeal.
Me: “Breakfast is ready!”
Son: Walks into the kitchen, sniffs, looks bored. “I’m not hungry.”
Me, cheerfully: Okay, go start your math then.”
Could it be that I am finally learning The Art of Underreacting? There is hope!
~~~~
Lisa
Homeschooling mother of 11, all of whom are current or former teenagers.
Please share any tips in the comments…
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Encouragement and direction for parents of teenagers:
2 Timothy 1:7
For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.
1 Peter 5:7
Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.
Genesis 4:7
If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is contrary to you, but you must rule over it.”
Titus 2:6
Likewise, urge the younger men to be self-controlled.
I do all my reading these days via audiobook, and usually while walking.
I can envision where I was walking when the new Mrs. DeWinter glided down the stairs for the fancy dress ball (Rebecca) or when Mattie Ross was bit by a rattlesnake (True Grit). Sophia introduced me to the poetry of Billy Collins, and I started with Aimless Love and Whale Day; they made me laugh out loud while planting and weeding the garden.
I inhaled the latest title in Joel C. Rosenberg’s Marcus Ryker series: The Libyan Diversion, and having conquered most of the Sherlock Holmes books, I have now finished eight Agatha Christie mysteries. It was refreshing to read the enchanted fairy-tale-twist Snow and Rose; I think I liked it as much as my youngest daughter did.
Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.
C.S. Lewis
I walked miles in circles around our property when I was reading Rebecca, because I couldn’t pull myself away. What beautiful descriptions of gardens and scenery and rooms and mansions, but also a journey into a mind of wrong assumptions and insecurities that seems all too familiar.
Watership Down…what can I say? One can only push a book on family and friends so much. How can a book about rabbits be so good that you’d read it two Augusts in a row? Well, it just is that good and I cannot explain why. Read the reviews and consider reading it for yourself; the audio version is distinctively wonderful.
I can’t imagine a man really enjoying a book and reading it only once.
C.S. Lewis
But you cannot force someone to like a book. Mrs. Skibbe assigned True Grit to us in 7th grade American History class and I hardly glanced at it. I wish I could tell her now how much I enjoyed that book 40+ years later.
My cousin Tommy gave me the The Tripod Trilogy by John Christopher when I was a teenager and not particularly interested in science fiction — especially when the main character was a boy. However, these three books came to be some of my favorites. I forgot about them until recently, when I was searching for books for my youngest sons, aged 14 and 15. They gobbled up the series, and so did I again — absorbing different things as an adult reader. Books are magical that way.
No book is really worth reading at the age of ten which is not equally – and often far more – worth reading at the age of fifty and beyond.
C.S. Lewis
I am in a delicious rut of fiction-reading. But, the Christian book Gentle and Lowly stopped me in my tracks — I loved it and cried through it, having my eyes opened in a fresh way to the mysterious, unexplainable, unearned, immeasurable love of God. It’s one to read over and over again.
Shakespeare said, “…summer’s lease hath all too short a date.” Summer always seems like it will last forever, but it never does.
White Pants
My search bar is familiar with the phrase: “clothing for women over 50.” I’m always looking for new ideas and always ready to update my wardrobe on a budget. I never seem to own anything between the extremes of “church dress” and “sloppy gardening clothes.” But this summer I discovered white pants. I purchased a pair of white Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, and another pair of white pants from GoodWill.
It was the summer of white pants.
That meant that unless I was in the garden, or taking a walk, I was usually wearing my white pants. But you don’t wear white pants to the fair.
Valleyfair
My son came for a visit from California, and the family planned a trip to Valleyfair. FOMO set in, and I wanted to be there. It was fun to revisit the amusement park of my childhood, and point out all the attractions that were never there when I was a teenager. But the first ride on the Corkscrew rollercoaster convinced me that I had just paid to receive an instant headache with a side order of nausea. I rode three rides, and then was content to take photos and chronicle everyone else’s bravery on video.
The colorful Corkscrew. This stable bench = my happy place at Valleyfair.
Minnesota State Fair
As mentioned on a previous blog post, it’s an annual tradition for my man and I to visit the State Fair on the very first day of the 12-day “Minnesota Get-Together.” We always park a mile away, we always watch the parade, and we always enjoy the amateur talent contest.
This year, six of our children also got tickets for the first day of the fair. At first, we wished they wouldn’t have chosen the first day. It was our day. Then, we expected to see them, and even saved them seats at the talent show. They didn’t show up. We were slightly disappointed.
It was a thumbnail sketch of the ambivalence of parenthood:
A: Here, let’s help you grow up so you don’t need us!
B: You want to move out? Don’t you need us anymore?
We drowned our sorrows with a pickle lemonade and a maple cream cold brew coffee and shared the meatiest Reuben sandwich.
Watermelon
With all the hot stretches in July and August, watermelon was a refreshing staple in our house, and a suitable snack for someone who is trying to fit into a mother-of-the-bride dress. The Search for the Elusive and Perfect MOB Dress has been a challenge, but I think I am getting close to victory.
Wedding Plans
General wedding plans have been a constant source of conversation around the dinner table, and via sporadic texting when the bride-to-be has a sudden idea or question. Many people have given us help, like the smart organizing spreadsheet from dear Amy, and wedding miscellaneous offered by Lori, an exceptional manager at our local Walmart. When the wedding is over, I will truly miss the process (and the bride) but I’m trying not to think about it.
More About Summer
This summer we watched:
One of ours leave for a military academy
One become a lifeguard
One get their driver’s permit
One run in a local race
One start seasonal work at an apple orchard
We helped Grandma with her tame and mannerly garden, and watched our own zinnias tower triumphantly over the weeds. My children planned and executed a lovely picnic for my birthday, and we tackled many 6-mile trail walks, to the delight of some and the dismay of others. We also met friends three times at the local pool, where my youngest boys had a blast, and there were camping trips and overnights…
Although I occasionally heard distant whinings that there was nothing to do, I think we did okay.
Now that we are headed back to school, the 2023 summer memories seem sweeter than ever.
Today, my son Marco started his seasonal job at the apple orchard. The plan was to drop him off at 9:00, head home to pick up my daughter Ava, and drop her off for 10:00 lifeguard duty.
The white van was on Empty, and we left late. Having recently turned 16, Marco has pumped gas five times or less. He examined the gas station’s new touch screens and shoved the card into the reader. No response. He pulled out the card and tried again. Frustrated, he tapped on my window, urging, “It’s not working!”
I watch him force the card in and out, then bang on the touch screen.
“Marco, get in the car.”
He tried to explain.
“We don’t have time. Just get in the car.”
Now it was my turn to push the card in and out while scowling at the touch screen. I found another button, hoping to cancel and start over. This seemed to work, so I pumped only $10.74 worth of fuel, because we needed to hurry up.
We raced out of the lot, and Marco arrived late at 9:05.
I circled back, transported my daughter to the pool, did a quick errand, and headed home.
While I was somewhere on my journey, my husband had received a phone call.
“Hello, my name is Deputy Maloney with the County Sheriff’s office. Do you own a white Honda Odyssey?”
“Yes.”
“I am at the Silver Lake Cenex; your vehicle just drove off without paying.”
Here’s my husband’s first, meant-to-be-funny version:
“Hi, this is the Sheriff. I’m at the Silver Lake Cenex, and your wife’s vehicle just drove off without paying. I am going to call for backup. If we see her, we will shoot on sight.”
When I walked in the door, I heard about the call with unbelief, denial, laughter and a groan. I realized I had pushed the “pay inside” button, and the card had not been charged.
I headed back to the gas station. My son Gianny rode along, sensing the urgency, and voicing the possibility that he should be there in case I got arrested, and “someone would need to call Papa.”
We got near the gas station and Gianny asked, “Why are you slowing down?”
“Because it’s 45 mph in Silver Lake and I don’t want to get arrested on my way to getting arrested.”
I parked and looked guiltily around for police cars. None noticed.
Assuring myself that I didn’t look too much like a criminal with my long gray hair and red “Blessed Mama” t-shirt, I approached the cashier with an apologetic smile.
“Um, I’m the one who didn’t pay for my gas. It was a misunderstanding – I pressed the wrong button.”
“Oh, no problem. That happens.”
For her, it was all over then.
But for my husband…I think the humor in it made his week, and I do not think I have heard the end of it.
Even though yesterday was one of those hectic Sunday mornings before church, I had a thought-provoking conversation with one of my teenagers. Like any teachable, memorable moment, it surprised me. I could easily have dismissed or squashed it in favor of washing the breakfast dishes, but I am glad I didn’t. I actually took the time to look my teenager in the eyes and something tender came over me – a longing to capture this instant before time whisked him away from me.
Me: I’m glad for who you are.
Teenager: What do you mean by that?
Me: I mean that I’m glad for who God made you. I’m glad for all you’re learning. I’m amazed by all the things you can do (not just that Rubik’s cube you are continually clicking, even now…) I’m glad for the way you share your thoughts and dreams with me. I’m glad for the way you use your strength to help others…
Teenager: Anything else?
Me: Oh yeah – there’s a lot more…I’m glad for your good brain and for your great sense of humor and for all you’re learning…
Teenager: You said that one already.
He was definitely listening.
When I reflected on this conversation later, something hit me. When we tell people what they are good at, they want to live up to these things. These affirmations shape them.
I know this has been true in my life. A wise older lady named Betsy once looked me in the eye and told me:
“I never hear you complain! You never complain, do you?”
Betsy didn’t live with me, and my husband certainly could have told her a different story, but I realized that the moment she said that, she pronounced upon me something to live up to; something like a prophecy:
I am someone who doesn’t complain. I will be someone who doesn’t complain.
Her words have diffused power over the years, and have caused me to hold my tongue or count my blessings.
How exciting and daunting that we have the power to shape other souls with our well-placed, life-giving words – starting with the ones that live in our home.
My Word Soup 