Hot Books for Hot Days

Laura Moriarty teaches creative writing at the University of Kansas, but she also has authored four books. I have read them all and can vouch for their quality. Laura’s books are novels, good old-fashioned reads that revolve around life-like characters. You won’t find werewolves or vampires or even shades of gray in her books. You will find interesting characters that portray the slightly stoic, shoulder-to-the-wheel values of the Midwest.

The Chaperone, set in the early 20^th century, revolves around the real life Louise Brooks, a famous and somewhat infamous silent screen star, and the chaperone who accompanied her to New York to study dance. The story begins when Louise and chaperone Cora Carlisle leave Wichita from Union Station. The author had me right from the first chapter as the train left the stately train station and eased down the tracks. Having stood on the trestle overlooking Douglas Ave, I had longed to get in the now closed station. But Laura created in words the same busy train station scenes I had seen in my mind there a couple of years ago.

                                 Wichita Union Station in early years.

The sad story of Louise Brooks and her rise to fame followed by a slide into an abyss of sex and alcohol unfolds leaving the reader born between pity and the desire to firmly shake the talented young woman. However, the real story is that of the chaperone. In reality, a chaperone did accompany 

Brooks to New York City, but Moriarty creates a fictional one in Cora Carlisle and readers watch as this character grows and develops into woman worth studying. Cora starts in the book as a prim and proper young         woman slightly confused on the meaning of family. She, like many of us in our younger     years, wears her righteousness as visibly as Madeleine Albright sports rhinestone flag pins on her lapel. By the end of the book her moral guideposts are still strong but are tempered with patience, tolerance and understanding that only years can bring. Watching her evolve and expand in the book is fabulous.

Along a with a story of two interesting characters, the author writes in a way to give readers a glimpse of various socio-economic classes during the time period of the Roaring Twenties and the Depression plus a few years beyond. Orphan trains, Flappers, gay relationships, women’s rights, and birth control are just of the few topics readers will face on the pages. Cora as a chaperone is a young girl herself, one searching for her true roots since she was an orphan. Cora develops into a woman, solid in her beliefs but softened by life that taught her tolerance. 

As a writer, I am often afraid of mixing the true and fiction. When I asked Laura how she did it, here is part of her response: I can tell you in a nutshell that everything about Louise is based on fact, and everything about Cora, even her name, is made up. I read Louise's autobiography and her biographies, and sadly, everything about her is true.

 While there really was a thirty-six-year-old Wichita housewife who went with Louise to NYC in 1922, her real name was Alice Mills, and I don't know anything about her. Cora is my complete invention.

Maybe I will have the courage someday to write like Laura. In the meantime, I will just read her works. Unfortunately, now I have to wait for the next one to be written!

A Fearsome Four Fourth

The Fearsome Four started years ago at the local Welcome Wagon. Sharon friended me. I met Bonnie through her because they were PTA parents of children the same age. Then we met Pat through Bonnie because they went to church together. The circles have widened through the years, a few people coming and going, but the original Fearsome Four has stuck like glue. We have birthed, married and buried together. We have dealt with aging parents, battled jobs, and fought cancer together. We used to play badminton, horseshoes, go to movies, have barbecues and celebrate Christmas dinners.

But age has slowed us a bit and oddly enough it is harder to get all of us together than it used to be. Our Fourth is often hamburgers on the grill and a trip to the local fireworks. But this year, the thoughts of the heat strangled us, and no one cares much for boom-boom anymore. So we gathered early before the sun could rise over the rooftop. We pooled our foods, whatever was handy, cooked some grits, and brewed some tea. It turned out to be a feast! But the true pleasure was grabbing 90 minutes or more together to sit outside under shade and to allow ourselves time to visit—like the old days.

The men had a table to themselves while women chattered together. It was truly peaceful and no firecrackers had started yet. So the air was not laden with smoke and the aroma of gunpowder. The rustling of a few tree leaves in the breeze was our only sound. Lovely, it was. Some eventually moved on to prepare for other events or to tend parents’ needs. Some felt like a pre-noon nap! But all enjoyed returning to be the Fearsome Four for just a short while this morning.

Happy Fourth of July!

My Life on the Rocks

Growing up I had a nice sand pile and lots of stories to go with it, but I never had a rock pile. In fact, rocks were an abomination to my dad. Oh horrors, the idle rock that fell into the yard and dulled his mower blade! Kids will carry rocks when they go to the river or creek, but Dad made us leave them there.

So somewhere in my adulthood, I began to pick up rocks without hearing Dad’s thunder. The first rocks I remember toting home was from the Cimarron River. DH was fishing the rippling water while the boys and I picked up rocks, tossed bread to chipmunks, watched dragonflies freewheel above the water. I found small stones washed round and smooth by eons of water in the riverbed.

From then on, I brought home rocks, bigger ones when possible. DH even got into spying pretty or unusual rocks for me. He eased himself down a crevice in South Dakota because there would be some “goodies” there. Sure enough some lovely stones in shades of pink. I remember sandy-coated rocks from a trip to Leadville. I don’t remember exactly where I picked them up, but I do remember it was spring before I sucked out all the sand from the van’s carpeting!

Then there was the trip to Robert Frost’s home. I had two boys with me that did not appreciate what they were seeing. I stood at Frost’s mailbox, running my hand over his name. I looked out across the blue haze that lingered between majestic mountains and appreciated the view Frost had from his front porch…and I took rocks from his driveway. One is the granite that so marks New England. 

The other is a most wonderful shape. It fits in the palm of my hand like a gray stone heart. I use both as paperweights, but the gray heart one I often pick up and hold when my mind is stumped, always hoping to channel the beautiful wordsmithing of Frost himself.

I have a couple of painted rocks, but I much prefer the plain rocks touched by the earth’s forces of wind and water. The smooth round rocks can be a perfect as a freshly laid egg or maybe jagged a bit where a corner stuck above ground being hit by maybe a wooden wagon wheel. In New Mexico, a ways from a deep ravine, DH caught me digging with anything at hand trying to get a rock loose from the earth. What was special about it? Why I wouldn’t know for sure until I could see ALL of it; the rock just called to me.

Mom is a joke with the kids because they think she has rocks in her head. They may be right. I wonder, would those rocks be quartz, limestone, or granite? Could they be turquoise, a favorite stone I often wear on my outer body anyway? Or some stone pressed in to a gem like a diamond or a ruby?

Are you a collector of rocks or other things when you travel?

A Cultural Event- a Tractor Show

1904 Model T...gas engine

Forty six years ago on this date, I had my first date with DH. I thought it was a one-time shot because he was older than I, and I could never compete with “older women” when I was just a fresh sixteen. The first date was to the movies in a neighboring town. I wanted to see Mary Poppins for the music and dance and energy of the show. I thought this old fellow was interesting in that he was game for a kid’s movie, a musical. But he returned the next week and took me to My Fair Lady. Oh, this might be the man of my dreams, one who appreciated artistic shows, who was going to college, and talked like he read great books.

Nearly half a year later and married, where did man of my dreams take me today? The tractor and gas engine show! Although he had been very sick for two days this week, he wanted to take the drive to see the tractors. We knew we had to be there early because the day was going to grow into a horrendous heat in the afternoon.

So we headed out, hit the farmers’ market first and then walked the grounds full of tractors. Shiny Farmalls, rusted John Deeres, and many in-between pieces lined up with the putt-putt-putt chuffing of the familiar machinery. The SEK Engine Club held their show on the grounds of a small museum I have wanted to get inside of for some time. So there was plenty to see.

                  This dresser could be found in many a miner's bungalow.

The museum had the usual local lore. This Crawford County Museum had lots of things reminiscent of the mining era. Clothes of the period, display of how mines worked, furniture and kitchen tools miners’ wives used. Note the lunch buckets miners carried down into the bowels of the earth. A display of dishes held some lovely flow blue.

This is a Yellow Dog, a prized item from the mining days. The produced light for drillers and tool dressers. Yellow Dogs can be worth up to $300 for collectors. 

We hurried through our trip as the heat indeed was cranking up to miserable. Then we headed home were the shaded deck allowed us to take a noon lunch without too much discomfort. Turkey on croissant sandwiches with fresh tomatoes, Candy onions, and sweet dills. Iced tea and some zucchini cake for dessert finished the meal. Then I cleaned the cantaloupe while DH stemmed the beans. Then a nap under the AC made it a perfect summer day! 

Madeleines and Other Pans

It is hard to have a social event these days due to everyone’s special diets. This house has a no-no list and sugar is one thing to avoid. Hard to do. We compromise a bit, eating sugar on special occasions or tiny bits for counting of carbs. It is easier for me to bake several things at once and pop them in the freezer for retrieving a bit at a time or for company. This freezes things too hard to cheat with (unless you discount chocolate chip cookies that can be warmed between the knees while you read Chapter 12!) and it means you limit the number of days you are tempted to lick the mixing bowl.

I find that these days I also streamline recipes using shortcuts or make the meal special with napkins, teas, or friends rather than counting on the recipe to be a WOW factor. I recently bought some tea cake pans. They looked so cute, like mini muffins but with this “dip” in the top that allowed the cook to put a dollop of whipped cream or gelled fruit in the dip. I found it a lot of work just to have a glorified cupcake in miniature. I vowed no more special pans. (I found the Bundt pan a little over-rated when it appeared too.)

Then I kept reading about Madeleines on the blog Lines from Linderhof. (http://www.blogger.com) Martha was always making cute and tasty things. She incited my interest when she said she made cornbread in her Madeleine pan. Hum, I talked myself out of them when I thought how I made jumbo cornbreads in a silicone pan and how well this works because the cornbread doesn’t crumble.

Then Martha made sweet cakes in her pans. She said that two of the little cakes were just right for a lady having tea. She hooked me. Madeleines are shell-shaped little things, and Martha is right. They are just right for tea, and I can see them as cornbread too. Today I made orange madeleines from a recipe that came with the pan that arrived this week. Such fun…

So while I was at it, I made my special fiber muffins in the muffin top pans. These pans are wonderful! I make the muffins large because I know I will eat two little ones anyway. These muffins are heart healthy as they use oat bran, wheat bran, and ground flax among other things. They also have two WHOLE oranges blended in.  They do use brown sugar, but they beat regular bran muffins.

Then it was time to whip up a loaf of molasses bread making the whole kitchen smell Ozarky from the thick Guinness-colored molasses. This is a new recipe and a most unusual heavy bread. It is not yeast bread; it is sweet and moist like a tea bread but has no fruits or nuts. It is good with mere butter or honey butter. It is a winner with a pot of tea.

While the oven was hot and the zucchini abundant, a chocolate zucchini cake was in order. Baked on a cookie sheet this cake is delicious and thin enough to be cut into brownie-sized servings.

                                                                 

Orange Madeleines

2/3 cup flour

¼ t baking powder

½ cup butter melted

2 eggs

½ t orange extract

½ t orange peel shredded (I used a little more)

1 cup powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 325. Spray pan with Pam. Sift together the flour and baking powder in small bowl.  In large bowl of mixer, beat eggs, orange extract, and peel until creamy. Gradually add in the powdered sugar. Beat until thick.

Fold in flour. Then melted butter. Mix until smooth. Fill Madeline pans ¾ full, bake for about 8 minutes. Cool 2 minutes and removed from pan. Cool and sprinkle with powdered sugar if desired.

Oak Projects

DH is self-taught in the woodworking department. His projects get bigger and better. He has fixed a few pieces of scrappy projects into nice pieces. He has designed his own pieces of furniture.

His last two projects have been more challenging with glass doors. One was a display cabinet for a beauty shop and the other was an entertainment center for a young friend. 

How We Use Books

I was taught to never abuse books and even magazines to some extent. You never bent a book backwards too far so as to break the spine. You never turned a book face down with pages open to keep your place or left it open face up weighted down for the same purpose. You always used a bookmark and NEVER folded a page corner down! No marking in a book either.

When I went to college and saw people writing notes in their books, I nearly died. Then came the colored highlighters, and it took a long while to be able to splash that streak of yellow across the page, pretty or not.

When I married, DH drove me nuts with his treatment of books. Piled high, tossed on the floor, left in the bathroom, slayed under a bowl of peanuts like a Puritan sinner stretched on a rack…I found books all over the house and cringed. There were even books with telltale rings where summer glasses had sweat circles for posterity.  He is much better now. He uses a book mark, piles his books only on one table, and no longer turns down pages.

These days marks or memos in books intrigue me. I read them and wonder who read before me. Why did they disagree here or mark to remember there? Sometimes I want to discuss their opinions with them when I find notes on a page I am reading. If the reader has my sentiments, I feel a unique camaraderie with the former reader.

Lately I have been rereading books that I shared with my mother-in-law. I note where she marked or unlined. Maybe it was only a word she wanted to look up or practice using. Now I find her marks revealing her inner person. Often these markings bring a new understanding to me of this woman. If find that for all our vast differences, we shared some common responses to the lines we read. Like Miss Angelou wrote once, “We are more alike than we are different.” If only we humans could remember that…with the help of books, maybe we will.

Do you write in your books?


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Is it just me or have some bloggers slowed down? It seems like many writers post less often and also comment less. Is Twitter for radom thoughts taking over entirely? I don't Twitter but then I said I would never blog. Things change.

When I am wrong I admit it. The new blogger is nice once I gave it a chance. I like the way the stats are provided. I can see numerous readers despite their not leaving comments. Shy? I think they must like the blog because they return to read even if they are quiet about it.

And the Kindle? Okay,  I am learning to love it. I am not ready to abandon "real" books, but this device has its place. I can read it at night without a lamp bothering anyone sleeping in the room. I can find free books. I can get books instantly when I want one! And, it is easier to tote in a purse than bigger book.