July Book Report: Mrs. Griffin Sends Her Love

I first discovered Miss Read books in 2006, a very hard year in my life.  I saw a description of two Miss Read books in the Bas Bleu book catalog and took a chance on these two stories —- the first two books in the Thrush Green series, published in 1959 and 1961, respectively .

I loved the books at once and was best pleased (to use a Miss Read phrase) to discover that there were many more to be read, both in the Thrush Green collection and also a whole other series about a town on the English Downs named Fairacre.

These books and the stories within them were both my salvation in that year and a source of great joy to me since I first read them.  In theory, books set in mid-20th century rural England had almost nothing in common with my life as a 21st century single mama living in the the suburbs.  In fact, they proved timeless and reminded me to enjoy the small pleasures in life - a cup of tea, the vexing pleasure of abundant garden produce, the chirp of the birds on a Spring morning, the day in February when there is still a bit of sunlight to be had after 5 pm, the couch of Fall leaves on a cool morning, the first blooms of the coming Spring….really the list is endless.

Dora Saint, the writer behind the Miss Read books, passed away in 2012, at the age of 101.  This means that though her stories live on (and are among my favorite re-reads), there are no new works to be sought. Or that was the case until recently, when Orion Publishing released a collection of essays and small compositions that were the first Dora Saint works; all bits published in English newspapers and magazines that weren’t published in the United States.

New Miss Read! 

I bought a copy straight away and set it in my to-be-read pile with a great deal of excitement.  The book has light editing and commentary by Dora Saint’s daughter, Jill Saint, and re-productions of many of the illustrations from the original Miss Read books.  

At just over 300 pages, it was a splendid treat to spy in my book pile as the worst days of the pandemic raged on here in my corner of the world.  I read the introduction and back cover endlessly, but I saved the book itself to read after school was out.  Though I am typically the sort of voracious reader who gobbles up a good book in just a few days, I treated myself to just a little bit each day, so as to enjoy my treat just a little bit longer.

The volume ends with some classroom vignettes from the early drafting of the Fair Acre books.  Though Miss Read preferred the stories of her Thrush Green books (a fact I discovered in this volume),  the Fair Acre stories are my favorites.  Written in first person by the schoolteacher herself, whom Saint describes as a woman who, “…was born fully clothed in sensible garments and aged about forty,” they connect with me in ways too numerous to explain.

Ahhh, Miss Read.  Always practical and with a sentimental heart that never turns maudlin, she loves her students for the children they are, with practical affection and a tolerant patience that I both admire and seek to achieve.  This collection was a balm for my anxieties and a reminder of the joy to be found in the simple pleasures of life, like a good book to be read on the front porch come some happy Summer morning.

Zinnia!

My first zinnia of the Summer season is a deep purple.

I don’t recall having planted such a deep shade of purple before and I think it’s lovely.  This is the only bloom for now but enough for a bouquet are on their way.  That’s happy!

In the Waning Light

One of the nice things about being home so much is that come twilight I have a good chance of making pictures of the golden light that often infuses the sky.  Sunday was a nice night for the Golden Hour and I made several pictures. Here is Old Man Tree framing the southwest sky and the moon.

To the due South.

From the front porch.

To the East.

To the West.

Even when it’s steamy hot (and it has been plenty warm around here), I enjoy the ease of a Summer evening when I can pop outside and enjoy the last beautiful light of the day.

Reality Check

Last week, my sister sent me a text message to see if I am okay.  Your blog hasn’t been updated in the last week, she noted, and this made her worried.  

I reassured her that all is well, I am just crazy busy at work and eager to escape the computer screen when the work can be set aside at the close of the day.  No need to be concerned, I texted.  I am fine.  Just busy and worried.

Busy with worry?

My school - with about 700 students and staff spread out from pre-K to 12th grade and on a campus of over 40 acres - plans to return to campus for in-person class in the Fall.  That doesn’t worry me - I am excited to return and I believe that we can do so safely - but it does entail a prodigious amount of planning.  And it’s layers and layers of planning for even the smallest details.  Things that normally cause no concern - the drinking fountain, passing time in the hallways, books for use in class - are suddenly of great concern.  

We’ve been planning since May, before the last school year ended, and it’s been non-stop.  I joke and say that my lists have lists.  It’s meant to be amusing.  It’s also true.  

New Jersey flattened the curve and has successfully held the line but there are still nearly 14,000 of my fellow New Jerseyans who have died from this pandemic.  We’ve held the line as the rest of the nation’s cases have exploded but we do not live in a tidy Northeastern bubble and fear is our new daily companion.  For all of our planning and hopes about school on campus, I’m aware that we may have to be remote for the start of the school year.  Perhaps for all of the school year (or at least until there is a vaccine).  It’s scary to plan so much amidst so much uncertainty.  But I know people who have recovered from COVID-19; I know people who have died from it.  I know that we can’t afford to ignore this virus.

So I make plans.  Posting has been lighter than usual while I navigate this worrisome upside down world.  When I step away from my computer at the end of the day, I slow my mind, pick up my book, visit my flowers and plants, and find enough hope to start again the next day.  

Flower Celebrations

Come the warm weather season, impatiens and begonias are my kryptonite.  In May, I stroll by these flowers in garden shops and I can never pass by without putting a few more in my cart.  I never try to talk myself out of them and I always come home with more than I planned.  I fill every pot and planter that I have and then spread them out on the front porch and back deck so that wherever I go there are flowers to greet me.

That’s happy!

Monday Garden Update: July 20

Things are coming along nicely and I sense warm tomato sandwiches and zinnia bouquets in my future.

Summer always satisfies.

Crazy Plant Lady

For my birthday last November, my sister gave me a house plant subscription.  Each month, a new plant came to live in my green menagerie.  I was most delighted by my expanding collection.  By April, I had 6 new plants happily thriving in my house, all of them headed to the front porch for the Summer.  The last plant to arrive was a Croton plant with variegated red-edged leaves.  Like all the other plants it was welcome.  Soon after my sister reminded me that the plant surprises would be coming to an end, three more Croton plants appeared.  I began to transplant en masse.

And then two more.

Six in total.  I gave away three to good homes and kept the other three for myself.  They are thriving in the sunlight of my front porch and though there are some concerns about where all these plants will go come the cold weather season, I'm not worried.  Instead, like the crazy plant lady I am, I cheer on each new leaf that they grow.   

Strawberry Season

 The season for fresh strawberries has arrived and I have made use of the delicious bounty to be found in our local markets.  I made strawberry pie.

We ate bowls of strawberries and cream.

I made strawberry compote for our waffles on a leisurely Sunday morning.

Soon enough we’ll stir up some strawberry jam that we’ll preserve for the cold Winter days when strawberry season seems far away.  That’s happy!

Hydrangea Blooms!

There is a splendid hydrangea bush next to the gate in my backyard and I enjoy watching the leaves emerge each Spring.  Most years, I don’t get flowers.  I’ve read about pruning and fertilization until I am nearly blind and I remain rather confused about what it means to trim the old growth (or even whether my hydrangea is the sort that expects its old growth to be trimmed in order to bloom.)  Thus it is that blooms are rare on this hydrangea.

But when they do emerge, they are unfailingly splendid.  

A gardening friend reports to me that it’s a good year for hydrangeas and perhaps that explains my blooms.  That’s better explanation than my confused pruning efforts and offers hope for lovely blooms come next Summer.

My Back Deck Desk

I am immersed in prepping my Civics and Citizenship class and rather than sit at my desk, I’ve taken operations outside whenever possible.  So it was that Sunday found me working on the back deck  in the afternoon, after spending much of my morning on the front porch.

Staycation is the name of the game this Summer and while I will miss the adventure of seeing someplace new, I am grateful for the blessings of this back deck, where I can enjoy the sunshine and the shade and even fit in a bit of a nap.

Monday Garden Update - July 6

I really need to get to weeding but otherwise there is promise everywhere I look in this garden.  There are at least a half dozen jalapeno peppers set on vines.

There’s a patch of heat coming our way and after I mow the grass today,  I will set out the sprinkler.  Within a few weeks, I’ll be harvesting tomatoes from the many green ones currently at work ripening.

Soon enough, I'll be picking zinnia bouquets for my Mason jars.

That’s happy!

July 4

I love my country with a depth that has fostered a career spent teaching about its history and politics.  I am a patriot who named her only child after the man whose words we celebrate on this 4th of July day.  

But I am no “Love my country right or wrong” patriot.  I am an “I love my country enough to right the wrongs” patriot.  This year, a year determined to teach us some very important lessons, it seems appropriate to pause and think again abut the patriot I am.

I’ve taught it so much that I know the preamble to the Declaration of Independence by heart.  I read it several times a year; I think about it often.  I teach the Declaration in terms of that preamble and I never fail to be stirred by the claim that all men are created equal and endowed with the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  I think of the power of such a claim when it was made in 1776 and as we try to live by it now.  I teach my students that every right Americans subsequently demanded to have recognized, be it the right to be free from slavery, to vote, to marry whomever we please, was recognized in those words and was there all along.  

That’s not all that I teach because I know how often we fell short of that stirring claim; I know how often we still fall short of it.  I teach my students about both of those truths.  I teach Frederick Douglass’s words about the 4th of July.  I teach them about the racism baked into our founding and built into our firmament.

Then I remind them that we must be patriots who seek a better nation for all of us.  I remind them that all we need do is return to the words of the Declaration and let that truth guide our way.  

July Front Porch

If the theme in my flowerbeds is lush and over grown (and it is), there there is no reason such a theme cannot be carried over to the front porch.  And so it does.

T gave me a flip flop flag and wreath and July is the perfect month for a woman loathe to wear shoes.

The ease of Summer is something I long for in the cold weather and never take for granted when the warm days settle around us.  I start my day on this front porch every day of the Summer and I never tire of the plant-fortified view that greets me in the morning.

Given the time, I’m out here in the afternoon with my iced tea and my books.  It’s my favorite room of the house this time of year and I spend so much time here that I can spy a new leaf on my plants the moment it first begins to bud.  Pandemic worries aside, the Summer is determined to fly right past.  I am making the most of it while it’s here.

Frontyard Flowerbed in July

 It’s the lush and overgrown season around the garden and that is just fine by me.  

I enjoy the morning dew cradled in the elephant ear hosta leaves.  I like the jewelweed showing off in between the hostas and the variegated leaves are especially pretty to me.

And how about those hosta blooms?

I spy this flowerbed from my perch on the front porch each morning and it never fails to make me happy.  In this strange Summer of pandemic anxiety, it is a reminder of the beauty to be found all around me.