More on Books

It has been so long since I have posted that I got a bit long-winded the other day. At the same time, I realized I did not get to write about Hilda van Stockum or Graham Greene.

At any rate, this past summer I read through the three Mitchells books from Hilda van Stockum; The Mitchells: Five for Victory, Canadian Summer, and Friendly Gables. I had a great time. Nothing makes for relaxation better than a good children's novel or two. The first was written at a time when most American families had servants or hired hands of some sort. My grandmother was a hired hand with my grandfather's family within a decade of when the story takes place. I liked the Mitchell children because they reflected both the naughtiness and goodness of children everywhere. The Mitchell family started with four children and grew by three more by the time the books ended. Other families in the books were larger, reflecting the time when children were perceived as a good, and not a burden. At one point Joan remarked that she wished she came from a family of 16! Her parents and the parents of neighbors were loving, confident and competent. I was reading a book on St. Marguerite Bourgeoys at the same time that I read Friendly Gables, which was very cool because they talked about her in Friendly Gables. I learned just a tad more about Canadian history and custom, and got an insight into the influence of Catholic culture in Quebec. Hilda van Stockum had some lovely descriptions of seasons and landscapes in her work. I am not accustomed to marking books, but I may go back and copy a few parts into my old nature journal. Those portions would be perfect for dictation or copy assignments for penmanship.

I also did not get to mention another book which elicited great sensual response when I read it, Grahame Greene's The Wind in the Willows. It has been many years, but shortly after reading it a group to which I belonged was writing a cook-book, and I submitted quotes from the book for inclusion, so strong were my reactions. The two parts I still remember were the places where Mole is talking about hot buttered toast, and then when he reminisces about his own home with the smell of sausages and onions hanging from the ceiling. Oh, but did I ever feel like eating when I read those passages! No television commercial or adulterated junk food needed. What a way with words.

Arthur and I took an hour's  walk around Quarry Park Nature Reserve today. The sun refused to come out, but it was still pleasant. We were alone except for in the parking lot. We came very close to a young, white tailed deer. The smell of leaf mold was heavy in the air. Not a good place for people with allergies!