Monthly Book Report: Emma, by Jane Austen

There is a new book group among some of the women in my family and our first read was Emma.  I’ve read Emma before - on many occasions actually - and I am always down with the classics, so I happily picked up Emma and, as expected, it proved a lovely read for the month. 

Emma is not my favorite Austen novel but I enjoyed this reading a great deal.  For starters, the characters - like all Austen books - are well-drawn and amusing.  The narrator is an honest broker with a keen observation skills and a sarcastic sense of humor, also a durable feature of many an Austen novel.  In the case of Emma, the narrator is nearly a character of her own and is a big part of the pleasure I get from reading the novel.

Emma herself is not the most sympathetic of Austen heroines but I even like that about her.  She’s well-off and snobbish and Austen - and Emma herself - makes no apologies for that.  Emma is happy in her world, circumspect though it is, and I admire that about her.  Austen’s writings are deeply invested in the lives of the women.  They live in the early 19th century and I am always struck by the ways in which meaning for women is relational - not about who they are for themselves but about whom they are for others.  I’d like to think that in the 21st century, we are past this view of women.  Experience tells me that we are not  and that makes this 200 year old novel a rather timely read.

Summing Up the Month: March

No month would be complete without a word graphic to help remind me of the little things that make the month lovely.  March is rather an expectant month as I wait - not so patiently - for Spring.  

A Starry Respite

We’ve had Spring Break for the last two weeks.  I worked the first week, plugging my way through a 40 item to-do list, each task something that will help the final part of the school year to unfold smoothly (or at least avoid a shit show). I spent the second week away from school and work, sleeping in, and looking for the evening stars, which I found Tuesday night in rural Pennsylvania, in the company of JT and some dear friends. 

It was a welcome respite.  This morning, I’m up early for the return of students and the resumption of classes.  Spring is always busy - often ridiculously so - and I expect this Spring will be no exception.  With any luck, the time off will fortify me until the warm days truly settle in and bring the ease of sunshine and lots of time outdoors, which I crave these days.    

Early Spring

As March prepares to exit, I am yearning for sunshine and warmth in a way that is almost physical.  It’s not just a desire to step outside without a coat, mittens, hat, and scarf to ward off the cold.  It’s a deep need to be outside and able to lift my face to the sun and feel its warmth on my skin.  This is a common feeling for March in central New Jersey and I know that as each day brings a smidge more sunlight, a rescue is on the way.  

The rescue won’t be today, which is cold and rainy, a day that would be dreary if it weren’t for the signs of Spring I can find every where I look.  The lawns in my neighborhood are starting to turn the verdant green of Spring.  Around town, there are forsythia in bloom and dogwood trees aren't far behind.  There are purple crocuses in the shade of my front yard flowerbed and brave bunches of daffodils in the sunniest part of the back yard.  All of them cheer me up, as if they know I need a reminder that warmer days are at hand.  Hold on, they tell me.  The light is on its way.

Lucy Cat

Last Winter when Tiger died, I was worried about how Lucy would manage as the only cat at Sassafras House.  She did spend some time waiting at the front door, on the lookout for Tiger and that certainly added little more heartbreak in the midst of an already hard year.  Then she settled into her usual routines, napping on the warm furnace and always ready to sit on my lap in the evening.  Since T’s departure, Lucy has been my comfort and companion in a whole new way and I appreciate her so very much.  We read together. 

She naps in her basket when the sun shines in the back window. 

Let’s face it, napping in cozy places is her real skill in life.

Come bedtime, she joins me in my nest and sleeps alongside me, curled up on the duvet, a warm and welcome companion by my side in the darkness.  She is such a comfort to me.

One Small Flower

Earlier this year, JT and I got matching tattoos on our left forearms.  I have to say that I rather liked it and knew pretty quickly that my first tattoo would not be my last, though I had no specific plans.  But I kept thinking about flowers and plants and once my dad died, I knew. 

My love of plants and gardens is the biggest gift my father gave me.  I will miss talking plants with him and I decided to keep those memories close to me for the coming years.  Gardening is about growing things; it's taught me the value of patience.  In this 56th year of my life, a year when I am once-again sorting out who I am and who I will be, a reminder to look anew at life seems fitting.

This flower, a forget-me-not, is on my inner right wrist.  I can see it whenever I like but can tuck it away if I please.  It's a welcome reminder of my dad and the joy he took in growing things.  My dad was not the tattoo type and he likely would not have approved.  But I do think that he would understand the power of a floral talisman to keep me company and guard my memories.  

Cooking Journal: Sandwiches

Each month, I like to cook with a theme in mind.  This helps to provide me with some inspiration and also ensures that I don’t fall into the rut of making the same meals over and over.  Like most home cooks, I have a few favorites that I regularly serve.   But I also like to try new dishes and a theme helps me to do that.

In March, my theme was warm sandwiches.  I am a big fan of sandwiches because bread is involved and bread is my food love language.  This month, I made some old favorites, including this smoked turkey tartine with green peppers and Swiss cheese melted on top.  I serve it with homemade dijonaisse and it’s always good.  

I also made a Happy Waitress, a Jersey diner staple.  It’s American cheese, bacon, and tomato served open-faced and it’s delicious. 

I tried some new sandwiches as well. 

This one came from the Original Dish website and had smoked turkey, bacon, pickled red onion, melted havarti, avocado, and sprouts on rye bread with a spicy mayo.  It was delightful and will be making a return.

I mixed up a batch of house sauce, a recipe from the Jen Hatmaker cookbook, froze half of it and turned the other half into a saucy Italian sausage sub sandwich.  It was a warm and happy antidote for a cold and rainy March evening.

March has some days left and that means a few more sandwiches coming my way.  That’s happy!

Daffodil Days

The year that JT was born, I would pick up a small bouquet of daffodils when I made the weekly run to the grocery store.  They helped me to celebrate my baby boy and made my days sweeter.  When I see daffodils in the market come late February and early March, I think of those days and I get myself a bouquet.  

It sits on the dining room table where I admire the bright yellow color of the bouquet.  As the flowers slowly open, I marvel at the passage of time and wonder what comes next.  

Gratitude Journal: The Growing Season

A few week ago, when I got back to New Jersey after my stay in California, I took a walk at Colonial Park and saw a forsythia just starting to bloom.  That’s an early bloom; the first of the season.  My first thought was “I’ll tell dad.”  Then I remembered that he’s not taking my calls these days and, honestly, it sucked.  To have the start of Spring without my dad around to discuss gardens, seedlings, and all things turning green has been hard.  

I learned to love gardens and plants from him and I am reminded that in these growing things is the comfort I need.  Plants grow and then fade and die.  In some cases, that happens in a year.  In others, a growing thing (looking at you, redwoods), can last for ages, well past the life of one human.  There are lessons in that, of course.  Human life is fragile and short when measured against historical time.  What can endure is the mark we make on this world and the people around us. 

In that respect, my dad has the edge.  For his kind heart, he was known and admired by so many people.    He adored his grandsons beyond a reason and rationality and they knew it and loved him back.  He was fiercely loved by the rest of us as well.  And his gardening lives on, in the peach trees he ordered in December, delivered from his favorite nursery a few days after he died.  In the lemon trees he planted in all of his yards; in the daffodils I saw blooming around his house and all the places he lived in Clovis; in the irises that grow in my backyard; bulbs that came from his grandmother’s garden. 

Days and then years will come and go.  But Spring will always bring new growth.  In that fresh green, I will look for my gardener dad and the joy his plants brought him.  I know I’ll find him there. 

The Morning Call

I am an early-riser,  though the birds always beat me to the punch.  I hear their chirps as I come awake in the darkness.  By the time I’ve showered and poured my first cup of coffee, the bird song is a choir that makes my morning complete.  They are the soundtrack for my morning meditation and they make the early Spring days very nice. 

Thanks to my backyard bird feeder, I’ve had the chance to know exactly who is in the choir that sings my morning greeting.  There are blue birds and cardinals, robins, juncos, and gold finches.  Sometimes I hear a woodpecker in the morning, and there are other birds I’m learning to recognize.  The feeder is my way of thanking them for the morning chorus that makes my morning complete.