Reading Update

Book #69 of 2026 was The Book Club for Troublesome Women, by Marie Bostwick. This was a book club pick. Set in 1963 and following, it's a story about a group of women who get together to read Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique. As they keep the book club going (they call themselves the Bettys), we get to see the lives of all these different women. My favorite part was at the end when a few very famous people appeared. (By the way, one of the women in the book group got the waiter at the Ugandan cafe where we meet to pick this book from two we were considering. He liked the word troublesome and felt it boded well for how interesting the book would be.) 

 

Book #70 was a re-read, Prayer in the Night, by Tish Harrison Warren. You can read what I wrote about it here.

 

Book #71 was Strong to the End: The Simple Service and Sudden Sacrifice of the Martyrs in Haiti, by David and Alicia Lloyd with Dean Merrill. I wrote a little bit about this story here.

 

Book #72 was Ann Patchett's book about her friend Lucy Grealy, Truth & Beauty: A Friendship. The most striking thing about this book to me is how difficult Grealy was, and the fact that Patchett can portray their friendship so lovingly. 

 

Book #73 was Three Days in June, by Anne Tyler. I used to read lots of Tyler's books, but it's been a while since I've read one. I enjoyed this.

 

Book #74 was This Book Made Me Think of You, by Libby Page. Like the last one, this book was a sweet, undemanding read with a happy ending. Sometimes that's exactly what you need!

 

I had book #75 on my shelf in my classroom in Haiti, but somehow I had never read it. In a house where we were staying, a kid had a copy that I read. The book is Sisters: A Graphic Novel by Raina Telgemeier, and it was a lovely read.

 

Book #76 was Project Hail Mary, by Andy Weir. I read his book The Martian earlier in the summer, and this one is similar. It's a science-y book but you don't have to get all the science to enjoy the story. It's about figuring stuff out, and friendship, and optimism. I really liked this one!

 

Book #77 was Whistler, by Ann Patchett. It's about reconsidering the events of our lives, and seeing them through other lenses. Also it's not a horse book, in spite of the cover.

 

Book #78 was Uprooted, by Naomi Novik. This is a fantasy and not really my kind of book. However, it was an interesting story.

 

Book #79 was A Family Matter, by Claire Lynch. This is about a family secret that emerges forty years later, in a world that has changed enormously.

 

Book #80 was Heartstone, by Elle Katharine White. Jane Austen with dragons. I'll always try Jane Austen fanfiction, and this was fun.

 

Book #81 was The Steps, by Wendelin Van Draanen. Is Ruby paranoid, or is everyone in her family really out to get her? And also, she's in the chess club.

 

 

Poetry Friday: Migrations

My school year has had a bit of a slow start, with a couple of days where I didn't have much to do. That will change soon. When you read this post on Friday, I'll be having a super busy day, teaching six periods, five different levels of French. But because I've been sitting around some this week, I had the chance to listen to a program called "Words in Flight" that came out in February. (You can find it here.) It includes some interviews with poets and lots of poems about birds. 

 

It was hard to choose just one of these poems to share, but because I've been thinking a lot about migration, immigration, moving around from country to country, I went with this villanelle by Sean Hill.

 

 

 

The Western Tanager or Why Montana
Piranga ludoviciana

by Sean Hill

 

Are wanderings the same as migrations?
I came to Montana for love, which sometimes is
how we know our destinations.
The Western Tanager flies here for procreation 
when the snow goes wet, puddles, runs, and takes to 
far wandering. Is this the same as migration?
A life is the sum of grand and modest peregrinations. 
Communities bloom at the meeting of opportunity 
and ambition and can be a way to know our destinations.
A fire-engine red head cooling to orange to 
a sunny yellow body with those charcoal wings, 
the male western tanager flashes conflagration
or an eastern autumn, in flight. One, familiar, greeted 
me shortly after we both arrived letting me know 
our wanderings weren’t the same—his, a migration.
In a stand of ponderosas where a blanket of snow lay for decades 
or longer, the dendrologist says these trees moved up from what’s 
Mexico as that quiet water pulled back, a different migration
—moving seed by seed north generationally migrating 
to where they had been and where they could live 
never asking how do we know our destination?
Why Montana? One among my interrogations, 
both public and private like How big is a home? 
Are wanderings the same as migrations?
and How do I know my destinations?

 

 

How thankful I am for migrations, both of birds and of people! How our lives are enriched by these visitors from elsewhere, and how we will be impoverished if we continue to remove people as has become so common around the world. 

 

I wrote a poem in 2021 that explored some of these ideas; you can read it here.

 

Molly is hosting the Poetry Friday roundup this week. 

Poetry Friday: For the Bird Singing Before Dawn

Welcome to Poetry Friday! I have been back home in Uganda less than a week after a short time in the United States. We're getting ready to go back to school next Tuesday, so there's lots to do, but I'll take frequent breaks to round up your posts the old fashioned way. Leave your link in the comments so we can all enjoy what you've chosen to share.

 

I read a lot of sad pieces as I tried to pick my poem for today. I'm thinking a lot about what it is to be an immigrant, and what it is to be unwelcome and sent away, as I watch the news about the cancellation of Haitian TPS. In my mind it was all mixing with the Odyssey movie that we saw the day before we left the US, and the law of hospitality which is a central theme.  But I finally settled on something a little more cheerful instead.

 

For the Bird Singing Before Dawn

Kim Stafford

 

Some people presume to be hopeful
when there is no evidence for hope,
to be happy when there is no cause.
Let me say now, I’m with them.

 

In deep darkness on a cold twig
in a dangerous world, one first
little fluff lets out a peep, a warble,
a song—and in a little while, behold:

 

the first glimmer comes, then a glow
filters through the misty trees,
then the bold sun rises, then
everyone starts bustling about.

 

And that first crazy optimist, can we
forgive her for thinking, dawn by dawn,
“Hey, I made that happen!
And oh, life is so fine.”

 

 

 

You can read some of Stafford's thoughts on this poem here.

 

Linda M. has written a lovely poem called "How to Make a Map." 

 

Michelle is thinking about native plants, and particularly one that is a dear friend.

 

Karen shares a Philip Larkin poem and some thoughts about writing and living.

 

Patricia's link isn't live yet, so I'll come back later to update this entry.

 

Tabatha has a Wendell Berry poem about lilies and surprises.

 

These were all the links awaiting me when I woke up to a chilly Kampala morning (it's 66 degrees, so chilly is maybe not what everyone would call it). I'm headed to work in a bit, and I'll keep checking for your submissions! Happy Friday!  

 

I'm back! I've been attending sessions this morning and now I have some classroom work time (much needed). While I was learning, a new link came in.

 

Denise is doing some poetry challenges right now, both writing and reading. She shares two of the poems she's read recently and both are great. Be sure to click through to read the end of "If there were a job interview to have children." Relatable! 

 

Friends, I apologize for stepping away from my hosting duties for a while. Our school owns some property on Lake Victoria where there are plans to build a new campus. Our Head of School wanted to take those who had never visited, and he asked me to go along and help people identify birds. It was a lovely Friday afternoon excursion and I saw 27 species. And now I'm back to round up the links that came in while I was busy.

 

Marcie, like Denise, is doing a poetry-reading challenge, and she has some wonderful-looking poetry books to tell us about. She's also got a haiku and a photo of beautiful summery coneflowers.

 

Irene wrote about a Berthe Morisot poem for today. You'll fall in love with her trashy pup!

 

Molly's  exploring maps with the Inklings, and she reminds us, "our journey carves its own way."

 

Margaret is also working with the topic of maps, and she's made a collage poem. I love the mental image I get of the Inklings all writing together in one place!

 

Cathy  has a variety of treasures this week, including some memories of people who have died, some art, and a new way to share poetry.

 

We're back to maps with Catherine, who's written a poem and illustrated it with a photo of stained glass. Beautiful!

 

Mary Lee has a map poem illustrated with embroidery! 

 

Linda B. is remembering a wonderful family trip with an acrostic and some gorgeous photos. 

 

Anyone else? I'm home now for the evening, so I'm fully available to round up whatever you send! 

 

Heidi is sharing map poems, too, and wishing that we may all find a hospitable place in the world. Amen to that!

 

Jone's link came in after I was asleep, and here it is! It's about what's in your heart. 

 

Carol is reflecting on what's in her heart, too.