History Pulling on my Heartstrings

A Betty lamp in the Dutch Out Kitchen of the Bergen County Historical Society.

Who am I? I love a great many things from different eras: 1920s and 30s music and films; 1950s and 60s architecture and clothing, campy 1970s sitcoms like the Brady Bunch and the Partridge Family. My teen years were in the grunge rock music era of the early 1990s so I still for old times sake put on Pearl Jam's Ten and some alternative rock like Lush, James and other bands on 120 Minutes that I'd tape on my VCR when MTV still played music. I'm drawn to many things Irish, British and French. But above all else, I find the strongest heartstring pull toward early American history. I'm not sure if I lived during these times. I'd rather read pioneer diaries than Facebook updates. Yes, I dream about going back to Paris, but I'd love to go to Plimoth Plantation in Massachusetts, see Jefferson's Monticello and Washington's Mount Vernon, visit Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House sites. If I had my dream yearlong American road trip, I'd see all of these. Steve and I are hoping for a few days in Philadelphia this spring, since my third grade self really didn't appreciate the Liberty Bell or Independence Hall when I was last there. I think my 36-year-old self will see it in a different light.

I attend many events at the Bergen County Historical Society in River Edge, New Jersey, which is very close. They recognize a lot of old festivals related to the seasons. This time, as last year, we celebrate Brigit's Day and Candlemas. View my post, Cause for Cheer, Midwinter is Here, for last year's festivities. Here, Mary in the Dutch Out Kitchen with a batch of homemade beeswax candles.

From their web site,

"Brigit's Day and Candlemas come midway between the winter solstice and spring equinox, when snowdrops, the first flower of spring, make their appearance, signaling nature's awakening from winter's sleep. Candlemas is named for the blessing of candles, used to protect homes from lightning, evil spirits, and for procession through farm field and orchard.

As evidenced by Groundhog's Day, weather prognostication was commonly practiced in anticipation of spring sowing. Good weather at Candlemas is taken to indicate severe winter weather later. Hence, the saying, If Candlemas Day is bright and clear, there'll be two winters in the year. Another old English proverb proclaimed, If Candlemas be fair and bright, winter has another flight. If Candlemas brings clouds and rain, winter will not come again.

Rush crosses, woven on Brigit's Eve, were believed to protect the house and livestock from adversity. The feast was celebrated with a supper of pancakes taken from a plate laid on a rush cross."

Candlemas fare: apple crepes and mashed potatoes.

The Black Horse tavern. Wouldn't it be wonderful to gather here to discuss our thoughts on the State of the Union address? I sure have some. The future of the country? What so concerns us as America's sons and daughters?

I couldn't help think of the Little House series when I saw this wooden slate in the gift shop.

A harpist and fine storyteller performed in the Steuben house. I had no idea Mary Malone was about a girl who died in the plague, or that Danny Boy was about a father who longs for his son who he sent abroad for a better life. As I gazed out the window I felt a sudden chill. A ghost? Just the cold January day?

Watching this historical reenacter cut potatoes for a potato cheddar corn chowder, my blood pressure went down the same way it does when I pet the family dog Scotty.
There's something almost meditative about cooking a pot of soup or stew from scratch on a cold winter's day. Do you know what I asked for as a birthday gift? The Little House Cookbook: Frontier Foods from Laura Ingalls Wilder's Classic Stories by Barbara M. Walker. We devalue tasks like cooking in modern life. I think we've become far too disconnected. Walker writes, "There was...a strong movement spreading westward to give recognition to housekeeping as a profession requiring scientific training. Catharine Beecher, with help from her sister Harriet Beecher Stowe, not only wrote outstanding housekeeping manuals but also founded schools where women studied domestic arts along with academic subjects."

The "domestic arts." I love that term. There's something to be said for the domestic arts, and also how financially empowering they are. In modern life many of us don't or can't do much or anything our fore mothers and fathers did. Woodwork, making our own clothes or even simple sewing, gardening. Think how heavily we (I include myself in the we) really on convenience foods. We don't have any widespread festivals hoping for a good crop. The local ShopRite or Trader Joe's is a short drive away.

Maybe it's that connection to these things that so pull on my heartstrings. Do you feel a heartstring pull toward a certain time in history? Where would your time machine stop?

Thrifty Time Traveling at Estate Sales

"Welcome to the time warp," the man running an estate sale in northern New Jersey said to me seeing my wide eyes. I didn't want to come out of it.

I was in love: with a kitchen. This fabulous retro kitchen. I've fallen in love again and again: with bathrooms of the mid-1900s in those classic colors: pink, robin's egg blue and avocado green. With cheerful wallpaper. Shag carpeting. Wood paneling. Linoleum flooring. The word "dated" has a positive connotation to me. If you show me a "before" and "after," I usually prefer the before (not with minor paint updates, but major renovations ripping out cabinets and such). I think "dated" is a conspiracy to get you to spend thousands of dollars updating perfectly good rooms.

I blame the estate sale obsession on Steve. He planted the seed this year, and now we wake up weekends and the first thing on our minds is checking EstateSales.net! Oh the vintage clothes, oh the vintage small sizes why I need to a) lose weight, b) make my own clothes, or c) just be grateful vintage scarves, jewelry and bags fit any size.

A collection Mrs. Bucket (that's Bouquet) on my favorite Britcom Keeping Up Appearances would adore! Now I hope poor Richard says the right thing when he sees her in it.

How cute is my "Good Morning! Toast?" toaster cover? Needs to be ironed still. For just $3, it adds a touch of whimsy and cheer.

I haven't purchased any major pieces, just some clothes, vinyl records (like Edith Piaf, John Denver, Judy Garland), a book on 1930s films, dishes, and such. We did get a vintage Singer sewing machine that folds into a side table for free when we inquired about the price. The women reflected sentimentally on the home economics classes which taught them needed sewing lessons (something I've bemoaned doesn't exist really now).

I had no idea what estate sales were. I kept picturing when Richard and Hyacinth take a country drive to one of those huge manors, but really it's just when the whole contents of a house are for sale, usually when someone has passed away.

It might sound morbid to some. But I love the idea that people's possessions are being put to good use by someone who will love them instead of going to the landfill. It's also time traveling and bit like going through someone's diary. They're a snapshot to how we lived.

If all goes according to plan, Steve and I will be moving to another two family house in the next town in a month or two (he'll keep the two-family home we're in now as an investment). My favorite part of the home which was built in 1970: a pink retro bathroom! The inspector said it's dated. What does he know? For Keeping Up Appearances fans, we now live in very Daisy and Onlsow like quarters and even are starting to emulate them. Steve watching television and drinking beer in a recliner just like Onslow's, me reading a book from the library in complete denial about our mess and overall horrible cramped living quarters like Daisy. We even have more chipped crazy mugs than I care to admit. Oh how I long to drink tea out of the Royal Doulton instead and have a nice putter in the garden. I don't need a Mercedes or room for a pony like Bruce and Violet, just a nice, cozy home.

I wish I could say I was a minimalist who would be happy with 100 possessions or less and finds contentment solely in a beautiful sunset. But admittedly, brashly, I declare it: I like stuff. I do. Clothing, more books than I can read, pretty plates, artwork, candles. Homey stuff mostly. Things that give a house a soul. I couldn't in good conscience nor could I afford to buy these things traditional retail. I'm glad estate sales are in my life.

Have you gone to estate sales?

Clothes: Free. Guilt: None. Better Fashion Culture: Wanted.

One jade green Ann Taylor Loft top, made in China, one Anna Belen headband with yellow flower, and one Alba Hawaiian jasmine-scented moisturizer, $0.

One Banana Republic Italian wool sweater, made in Hong Kong, and scarf, country of origin and brand unknown, $0.

One Reflections Images of You silk houndstooth blouse, made in China, and black cashmere-silk Jones New York sweater vest, made in China, $0. Kind of Mad Men-ish, right? When I wore it a woman told me I looked "retro-y."

One cashmere Garnet Hill raspberry colored sweater, made in China, $0.

The feeling I get knowing that I haven't given any of my money to corporations using cheap foreign labor, kept things out of the landfill, and am empowering myself and others financially: priceless.

I co-hosted my seasonal clothing swap recently at work during our lunch hour, and for winter we've been including unwanted holiday gifts. I highly recommend it for frugal fun when everyone's bills are arriving in January, and we donate the leftovers to local charitable thrift shops.

I did spend some money on refreshments (ours were all Trader Joe's fare: guacamole, pineapple salsa, maple cookies, clementines, etc.) Some swaps have rules, but ours is very casual: give and take what you like.

As for the stigma against secondhand clothes, I'll never understand it. If people want to spend $90 at Banana Republic for a Chinese made sweater, go ahead.

Like hang drying laundry or park cleanups, clothing swaps (or any kind of swaps) are a grassroots thing. They just need one person to say, hey, let's hold a swap! Maybe that person is you! Have you ever attended a swap, or would like to organize one? I'm talking to more and more parents who are swapping baby's and children's toys, clothes and furniture.

A 1950s dress at The Family Jewels Vintage Shop in New York City, from an era of great style.

An observation on clothes today: I regularly visit thrift shops and attend estate sales as a hobby, and come across clothing spanning many decades. I have a lot of items with the union label on it (like Francie's father in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, I wear it proudly, like a rose). Aside from the fact they've shifted 90 percent being made here to 90 percent now abroad, the quality, like many things, leaves a lot to be desired. So much of this cheap fashion is disposable.

I love clothes and fashion. I get almost all of it now through swaps, thrift shops and estate sales. I wish I could make my own clothes (still on my life 'to do' list). Maybe since I've time traveled so much through films and television shows, but also through old photo albums and what's offered at estate sales, I look at the style now and don't think there's much of one. I wish fashion would be more inspired and creative than UGG boots and Chinese made logo bags (if someone can explain the appeal of a bag with MK all over it, please do so). I think part of the draw of these bags is they are a safe accessory since almost every woman I know has body insecurity issues. I do too, that nagging voice is often there, wouldn't you look better if you lost a few pounds?

I look at photos of my grandmother and even at the end of her life she was dressed to the nines. Nice jewelry, her good perfume (Chanel), gloves, a handbag. Her generation wouldn't be caught dead wearing pink fuzzy pajama pants with Tweety bird on them in public (spotted at a Hackensack, New Jersey Barnes and Noble, but really I see this everywhere now and it's totally inappropriate). I was at Housing Works trift shop and picked up a pink Anne Klein suit the other day for $23 because I realized I didn't have one in my entire wardrobe. No special occasion like an interview. I just felt it was a welcome addition to a wardrobe of a 36-year-old woman. I'm proud of my age, I don't want to dress like a teenager or obsess over lost youth.

Maybe we don't have any great fashion role models today. Who were and are yours? In addition to the women in my family, I remember watching I Love Lucy reruns as a child and loving Lucy's cute hats and gloves, nice dress suits, black ballet flats. I cannot wait for Mad Men to come back on the air in large part for the fashion. During awards season, I'm always looking for Michelle Williams on the red carpet. In My Week With Marilyn, she showed as Marilyn how alluring a woman can look in just a white blouse and beige pencil skirt.

I definitely think women should start questioning more. Where is this made? How is this made? Is it a "good" bag or other item just because the retailer is charging $200 for it? What makes certain things so coveted? Since we've stopped questioning, all those manufacturing jobs slipped overseas, and fashion seems really boring and way too casual. Jeans are now too dressy or too much work to put on? There's some loss of civility in our "living room" culture (where to me so many act and dress like they are in their living rooms and not in public).

What are your thoughts on fashion in 2012 in America?

A Letter on Nothing and Everything

Dear readers,

I'm writing you in letter format again, since I love writing and receiving letters and want to keep up the lost art form as I did last year. E-mails are faster, but they're always less thoughtful somehow than a good old fashioned letter. Do you write letters?

I'm at one of my most favorite places right now - the library. The Internet has been down for the past several days at my place which means no blogging from there, which I've intended to do since I haven't posted lately. Sweetheart keeps saying he'll look into it, but every spare moment I catch Steve trying to master the Rubik's Cube I got in one of my mystery bags from Cinema Verite thrift shop. Hmph!

I went to read my blog roll this morning and couldn't believe how Cate summed up exactly what I was feeling in her post, "Moments of Doing Nothing" on her blog, Liberal Simplicity. While I'm not on Facebook or Twitter, I've realized how much time I spend surfing when I did have access. My mind feels cluttered too, my creativity sapped. Cate writes,

"I need those moments of doing "nothing." I need to stand stirring a pot of soup for a little too long, or hide under blankets with [daughter] Simone just because, or gaze out the window while petting a cat behind the ears. Without them, something in my imagination breaks loose.

I think I'm going to go do nothing now, and savor every second of it."

Winter to me is very much about these cherished "nothing" moments.

My friend Kristin pens a beautiful poetry blog, Wordfall, and in Windchill, she considers,

"Winter forces us
to center ourselves and prepare.

We need the vigil of oncoming snow or ice storms
to set us to establish some sort of reality, a surrender."

Savor. Reality. Surrender. Aren't Cate and Kristin so right?

Speaking of savoring, I recall many years ago Ann Wells wrote a moving story about a stunning, expensive piece of lingerie her sister bought on a trip to New York nearly a decade earlier but was never worn. She was saving it for a special occasion. Her brother-in-law was unwrapping it and taking it to the morgue. He said, "Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."

Wells reflects,

"I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life. I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.

I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom.

I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends'."

So those are the words inspiring me on this very cold winter's night, when sometimes my own voice feels muted. In the new year I've been reading more and surfing less, and my life feels richer. I'm tapping into simple joys in my day, like the smell of an apple cinnamon candle, the coziness of cinnamon tea on a brisk day, the security I feel under a blanket.

I'm off to enjoy some potato leek soup, followed by a hot shower and a good book. I suspect Steve will be working on the Rubik's Cube when I get home, but somehow, that thought is comforting too, knowing he's there, enjoying his own moments of "nothing."

Nothing is sometimes everything you need. Happy nothingness to you.

Warmly,
Catherine

New Year's Day: The Brooklyn Bridge and Little Italy

History, great food, adventure, walking, reflection, my sweetheart: my New Year's Day was filled with some of my most favorite things.

"What should we do today?" Steve asked. "How about a walk, across the Brooklyn Bridge perhaps" I said. Off we were. But this visit would be different. I wanted to know more about the bridge than just admire the sweeping views and the architecture.

There's a plaque dedicated to Emily Roebling. Who was she? She was the wife of Washington Roebling, who at 32 took over the project after the death of his father, German immigrant John Augustus Roebling, who designed the bridge. John Augustus had a crushing injury to his foot leading to his death after a ferry hit the pier he was standing on while conducting surveys.

But Washington too fell ill, enduring a paralyzing injury from decompression sickness just after construction began on January 3, 1870. First called "caisson disease" by the project physician Andrew Smith, it afflicted many of the workers working within the caissons.

Emily Warren Roebling would study higher mathematics, the calculations of catenary curves, the strengths of materials, bridge specifications, and the intricacies of cable construction, according to Wikipedia. For 11 years, she would help Washington supervise the construction. Meryl Streep was interviewed on 60 Minutes and spoke of plans for a national women's history museum in Washington, DC, and I think we need one. These stories need to be shared. Today I'm sharing Emily's.

I haven't read it yet, but David McCullough penned a book, The Great Bridge. He is my favorite historian, and appears in this video. As I watched this clip, I thought about all the grumbling I heard in New York City about the bitter cold (I grumbled too) this January of 2012, but really how little the weather impacts us other than an unpleasant commute. No real "tyranny of the weather" for most of us except those without homes. I also considered the infancy of the city. At the time of the bridge's building, the skyline was just four stories.


Off to Little Italy.

Consider this from a February 2011 New York Times article,

"In 1950, nearly half of the more than 10,000 New Yorkers living in the heart of Little Italy identified as Italian-American. The narrow streets teemed with children and resonated with melodic exchanges in Italian among the one in five residents born in Italy and their second- and third-generation neighbors

A census survey released in December [of 2010] determined that the proportion of Italian-Americans among the 8,600 residents in the same two-dozen-square-block area of Lower Manhattan had shrunk to about 5 percent.

And, incredibly, the census could not find a single resident who had been born in Italy.

Little Italy is becoming Littler Italy. The encroachment that began decades ago as Chinatown bulged north, SoHo expanded from the west, and other tracts were rebranded more fashionably as NoLIta (for north of Little Italy) and NoHo seems almost complete....

Even the Feast of San Gennaro, which still draws giant crowds to Mulberry Street, may be abbreviated in size this year at the behest of inconvenienced NoLIta merchants."

I've quoted it before, but I recalled Colum McCann's observation in his novel of New York City life, "Let the Great World Spin,"

"It was a city uninterested in history. Strange things occurred precisely because there was no necessary regard for the past. The city lived in a sort of everyday present. It had no need to believe in itself as a London, or Athens, or even a signifier of the New World, like a Sydney, or a Los Angeles. No, the city couldn't care less about where it stood."

I think of how much city life changes, sometimes for the better, like the lack of mafia life that once ruled the neighborhood. Although it's also the dual edged sword of the American dream: to assimilate, but how do we balance our cultural heritage and maintain a piece of it? Whether we like change or not, change is happening.

The Italian American Museum was sadly closed when we passed by it. A display of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire. On March 25, 1911, 146 souls were lost, mostly young immigrant women of Jewish and Italian descent. From Wikipedia,

"Because the managers had locked the doors to the stairwells and exits, many of the workers who could not escape the burning building jumped from the eighth, ninth, and tenth floors to the streets below. The fire led to legislation requiring improved factory safety standards and helped spur the growth of the International Ladies' Garment Workers' Union, which fought for better working conditions for sweatshop workers."

On the way into New York we stopped by a garage sale where I got a vintage dress with a union label on it. I think of all the gains unions and laborers made for better working conditions, only to have jobs disappear. Really, we've just outsourced the poor conditions elsewhere. Some might blame unions for excessive demands, but it seems Americans have been conditioned to not think about and worse, not care at all, where their clothes and other goods are made. I find it telling that in the worst economic crisis since the Depression the main fashion accessory I see women carry are corporate logo bags, many, if not most, made in China, that are marketed as a "luxury" item.

I'm in the midst of reading Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, and I thought of the great pride little Francie's father took in the union.

"A thought struck him. "The Union label on my apron!"

"It's right here, sewn in the seam. I'll iron it out."

"That label is like an ornament, he explained, "like a rose that you wear....Before I joined the Union the bosses paid me what they felt like. Sometimes they paid me nothing. The tips, they said, would take care of me. Some places even charged me for the privilege of working. The tips were so big they said, that they could sell the concession. Then I joined the Union...The Union gets me jobs where the boss has to pay me certain wages, regardless of tips. All trade should be unionized."

I love black and white photography. What were their stories? Francie would stay up listening to her father tell her mother about the night's events at his singing waiter job. "The Nolans just couldn't get enough of life. They lived their own lives up to the hilt and that wasn't enough. They had to fill in on the lives of the people they came into contact with."

So we can't leave Little Italy without a glass of Chianti, $7 and gnocchi with a mascarpone cheese sauce, $9.75, at Buona Notte restaurant? Just walking through Little Italy made us reminisce about our cherished trip a few years back to Italy (Rome, Venice, Florence, Bologna, Capri). We loved it all.

A cappuccino and cannoli at Caffe Palermo. I can't relate to the American food guilt syndrome which mostly focuses on vanity issues of how thin one looks. I love eating. No apologies.

I'm so excited for another year. Stress and personal upheaval of some kind will always be a certainty. But as Francie felt "pleasant anticipation" going into the library (as do I), I'm feeling that way about 2012, and what other adventures await. I'm grateful you are joining me as my American Dream Finder blog enters its second year.

These Were My Storytellers: A Year of Books

So I've been hearing print books referred to as "dead tree" books. I'm not sure if that's to prey on ecological minded people like myself who would save so much paper if only they became "modern" and got one of those fancy eReaders. One of the things I value about myself is that I care and think often about the environment, but I still like a print copy of The New York Times, and I am not giving up my print books. I also deeply care about bookstores. I don't want to those disappearing. They are valuable on our too quickly eroding main streets. No eReader for me, give me my "dead tree" books. But,

These trees are not dead. They have been repurposed, reinvisioned, and made into storytellers. They transport me to prairies of the West in the 1800s, onto a life boat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with members of the Greatest Generation, inspire me to stop buying so much convenience food and start cooking. They may have once provided shade, but now offer escape from boredom, provoke and stimulate the human mind and provide nourishment to the soul. These pages are not dead. They are alive and filled with life and I turn back to them to remember the words. Other than for shelter, one of life's true "needs" I think of no greater end for a tree than to be made into a book. There is something in the human spirit from the beginning of time that draws us to tell stories, and to seek them out. Look at ancient writings on the walls. Pictures told their stories for the ages. We advanced to words and the printing press brought writing, books and information to the masses. Who doesn't love to hear, "I'm going to tell you a story about..."

I think of how often I turn to the books I read for reflection and to inspire my own writing. Take a favorite passage from Paula McLain's The Paris Wife when a woman is devastated her best friend Hadley is marrying the man she secretly loves, Ernest Hemingway. It's very much about how we can drown in our own misery of the present when things are down or not how we hoped they'd turn out, failing to realize the possibilities the future holds,

"Her eyes brimmed with tears. If we had only known that eight years ahead of us, in a Paris we hadn't begun to imagine, John Dos Passos would fall victim to Kate's sparkle. And pursue her with force until she agreed to marry him. That Dos was figure nearly as dashing and important to American letters as Ernest was would have softened the moment ever so much - but we never know what awaits us, good or bad. The future stayed behind its veil as Kate gave me a wan smile and paddled away..."

Leisure time is valuable and hard earned by those who came before us. I hope the beauty of words from books touch your life.

Cate from Liberal Simplicity has been a big reading inspiration. I love that she compiles lists of what she reads as well as what she reads with her daughter, Simone. In her spirit, I'm compiling a list of what I've read this year, and where I obtained them. Many are through thrift, and I love how I find books, but they also find me. My mom, friends and I also share books with one another. I've put asterisks next to my most favorites.

Library:
The Paris Wife , Paula McLain. The book club at work was supposed to read this, but never met formally.
The Sweet Life in Paris, David Lebovitz. I just love his blog. I laughed out loud many times during this book.
Let the Great World Spin, Colum McCann. A suggestion from Cate, who also recommended John Irving's A Prayer for Owen Meany, the main character of which will always stay with me. The book's characters live in dark worlds which are hard to enter. It gives you much pause on people's lots in life, and what role they play in their own destinies.
*The Wilder Life, My Adventures into the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie, Wendy McClure. I saw this in the shop of my local bookstore but got it from the library. I am so grateful McClure penned this book about her trips to the Little House sites and more. I don't think I would have started reading the books, which I'm trying to savor.
Little Girl Blue: The Life of Karen Carpenter, Randy Schmidt. I read this because my former neighbor was reading it on the porch. I really like the Carpenters but I'm not that serious a fan, although I did find out about their stunning cover of the Rainbow Connection and some interesting stories behind their hits. "We've Only Just Begun" - a bank jingle to get new couples to open accounts.

Our Thrift Shop, Westwood, NJ:
In the Shadow of Gotham, Stefanie Pintoff, 25 cents. Engaging historical murder mystery set in New York City. I have another of her books from the thrift shop on my "to read" list.
Marrying Mozart, Stephanie Cowell, 25 cents. A great wintry read that makes you want to learn more about classical musical (I'm embarrassingly ignorant on the matter), and drink great wine and eat chocolate.

Shaw's Book Shop, Westwood, NJ: Hardcovers books have a 20 percent discount, so I paid about $20-$25.
Centuries of June, Keith Donohue. A man awakes in the middle of a June night with a hole in his head, but keeps getting interrupted by six women telling stories of American myth and history over the centuries. I tend to be seasonal with my reading, so this is more a summer read, which is when I read it. I did like it but my favorite of his is Angels of Destruction, which I recommend for winter, followed by The Stolen Child. Donohue is a great storyteller of fairy tales for adults. I'll read any book he puts out.
*Unbroken, Laura Hillendbrand. My book club read this because a colleague's young daughter ordered it by accident on her phone, my coworker started reading it and recommended it to the organizer, and we all started reading it. I keep expecting to hear this story of a World War II veteran's saga was fraud since it's so unbelievable, but they do say the truth is stranger than fiction. It saddens me just that much more that any holiday honoring veterans is turned into just another sale day.

CATS Resale Shop, Westwood, NJ
The White, Deborah Larsen, 50 cents. A poetic, short tale about a young girl who lives among the Indians after her family is killed by them.
*These is My Words: The Diary of Sarah Agnes Prine, Nancy E. Turner, 50 cents. While I found the love story between the main character and Captain Jack Elliot a little over-the-top sickly sweet toward the end, I finished this book wanting to look up Geronimo and some books that she mentioned, and felt truly swept away to the Arizona territories of the 1800s.

Housing Works, New York City:
*Little House in the Big Woods, Laura Ingalls Wilder, 50 cents.
Little House on the Prairie, Laura Ingalls Wilder, 50 cents.
Farmer Boy, Laura Ingalls Wilder, 50 cents. Anyone who has read this blog lately knows how much I love these books (grain of historical salt needed)!
Julie and Julia, Julie Powell, $3. Again, I laughed out loud many times during this book and think Powell can be a great writer at times, but there's way too much information about the bedroom escapades of her friends. I wanted to learn more about Julia Child and her cooking experiences, not how her friend always dates guys named "David" and was supposed to keep picking up a couch. She gets defensive about her cursing (sailor's mouth, well, she's not a sailor) that really takes away from the writing. I agree with an Amazon.com reviewer that as a writer it's lazy to use foul language so much, and she goes overboard Republican bashing. But if Powell hadn't written this, we would have never seen Meryl Streep as Julia Child, and as much as Child didn't like her, Powell really did start of the chain of events to get Mastering the Art of French Cooking on the best seller lists again.

Library Book Sales:
*Witch Child, 25 cents and the sequel, *Sorceress, Celia Rees, 50 cents. The story of young Mary starts with an ocean passage to the New World where charges of witchcraft come. Technically "young adult" books, these are well worth a read for all ages.
*The Diary of Mattie Spenser, Sandra Dallas, 25 cents. New bride Mattie's adventures with Luke in the Colorado frontier. I hope to read more from this author. Do you ever finish a book and keep comparing every book after to that one - "but it's not as good as the last one!" My mom and I did this with this book and Raven's End.
The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho, 25 cents. An enchanting fable about a young shepherd boy from Spain in search of riches in Egypt. So different than anything I'd read all year.

Other:
*Raven's End, Ben Gadd, purchased from the author and autographed, $30. I found this book after seeing A Life Ascending at the BANFF Film Festival, which features films about mountain and other outdoor culture. I will never look at ravens the same.
*Death and the Dream, J.J. Brown, free, gift from my friend who is also the author. I am not drawn to short stories as a reader, but I loved these haunting stories and finished the book in record time. She reminds me a bit of Neil Gaiman and infuses her stories with science. Her new book, Vector: A Modern Love Story, is on my to-read list. The author is one of those people I feel my life is exponentially better because I know them.

I hope to double my reading list for the new year. I'm not one of those people who can read 3 books in a week and don't think I ever will be. Books can be very all-consuming for me and my spirit needs a rest. I also just don't want to rush through them and can't absorb the content so quickly, and have other interests.

What are the best books you've read this year? Are you in the print book camp? I do think eReaders are good if they help someone read more, but let's try and co-exist peacefully and keep bookstores alive. Above all else, support authors and books. Happy reading.

Fondue Party: Our Swiss-Kissed Christmas Eve

Fondue, a Swiss favorite and a tradition in our family the past few years on Christmas Eve. Both my parents were born in Switzerland (they met and married here) and they were the only ones in their families to come to the United States. On holidays, we have never been surrounded by aunts and uncles, cousins, and grandparents. I have cousins I wouldn't recognize if they passed me by on the street. Steve and I took a trip to Switzerland a few years ago and met with some family and I traveled there more often as a child. On Christmas Eve, a fondue is a little piece of Switzerland which is a plane ride away, but still very far.

They have ready-made fondue kits you can buy, but it's really worth it to buy the Emmentaler and Gruyere cheeses. Just a few ingredients are needed to add to the grated cheese: garlic to rub the pot, cornstarch, pepper, white wine, optional kirsch (ours is on the side for dipping).

White wine and melted cheese on bread. What's better on a winter's night? I looked up some history of fondue on Foodtimeline.org and learned that fondue is the French word for melted, that most historians agree it was invented in Switzerland in the early nineteenth century and was a peasant dish, and Swiss fondue became a party novelty among American cooks in 1950s with many U.S. households adding "fondue pots" to their party ware in the 1960s and 70s. Chocolate fondues are distinctly American.

I always think back to a cozy alpine restaurant Steve and I shared fondue at in Zermatt, Restaurant Whymper-Stube...

and the beauty of this church up in the mountains. I love the smell and glow of the candles in church. Even on the highest mountaintops, places of worship exist.

It was all like a faraway and long ago dream, but still how I remember it.


Rick Steves produced a heartwarming special on Christmas in Europe, and he perfectly captured the cozy, intimate feeling of eating a fondue around a table. I wish I could magically jump into this scene with them.


No ham for me, but I'd take an extra serving of those scalloped potatoes with mountain cheese. My mom has a framed photo of her family's Christmas tree in Switzerland with the candles on it and it looks exactly like the one in the video.


Does your family carry on or incorporate traditions from the Old World (wherever your family's Old World lies) in your holiday festivities?