September 2, 2010
I’ve placed plenty of orders from online bookstores. Amazon.com, Half.com, even a purchase or two from Barnes and Noble and Abe Books.
But last month was the first online book order I’d ever received of which each book was wrapped carefully in brown paper and tied with a string.
It’s amazing we didn’t drool all over the keyboard as we browsed the selection in Lanier’s Book Shop.
Gene Stratton-Porter—my husband’s family has been collecting her work since before he was born. And Lanier had five copies of Michael O’Halloran, when Merritt had only ever seen two in his life! (Oh the richness of the South’s book shops!)
Louisa May Alcott—hardback copies that looked like those I’d seen in the local museum. And a collection called Aunt Jo’s Scrap Bag that couldn’t stay out of my shopping cart.
Augusta Evans—author of that amazing and beloved St. Elmo. Lucy Maud Montgomery—creator of one of my favorite fictional characters. Annie Fellows Johnston—known everywhere for her Little Colonel.
We looked through the book listings and looked through them again. Finally we settled on just a few Gene Stratton Porter works. And that copy of Aunt Jo’s Scrap Bag that Lanier’s husband doubted my husband had ordered!
When the package arrived, I waited patiently until my husband got home from work, and we all opened it together. The girls delighted in the paper and strings. Merritt and I exclaimed over and again at the beauty of the books, the lovely illustrations. There was even a personalized bookmark from my new favorite bookshop!
Lanier is celebrating one month of business with a giveaway over at laniersbooks.com. She’s even going to conduct it by writing names on pieces of paper and drawing them out of a hat.
Don’t let the fact that it’s conducted via the internet fool you—Lanier’s Book Shop is the real deal: a good old-fashioned, book store with personal attention to detail and the most lovely Southern proprietress. “Antiquated gems and gently-loved jewels”—you’re bound to find something that belongs on your bookshelf over at Lanier’s Books.
September 1, 2010
August 31, 2010
Dear Mary Kate,
Was it really just a year ago this morning that your big sister walked into the hospital room to find “the baby” out of mommy’s tummy in the form of you? Was it really just a year ago today that we brought you home to the beginnings of a remodel that would end up being a new bedroom for you and your sister?
Here we are, a whole year later—with a big grown up 1-year-old instead of a tiny baby girl.
You are as alike and yet as different from your big sister as possible. You look like two peas in a pod—sometimes we feel like we’re flashing back in time 21 months and seeing your sister at your age. Yet other times, perhaps more frequently, we laugh over how very opposite you are! Your looks are so similar, your personalities so different.
You were born two weeks early, ready to take on the world. (A phrase your grandma often used about your mother, yet you weren’t the firstborn in our family!) You’ve had a mind of your own from the beginning, keeping everyone hanging about when you were coming and then being born before your grandma was here to welcome you.
You’ve been the baby who thrived on some routines (bathtime) while showing great disdain to others (sleeping). You’ve decided that potty chairs aren’t for sitting or—perish the thought, going—on: they are for crawling off of! You’ve decided that shelves are made to pull books and shoes off of, that the newspaper box is meant to be emptied, that CD’s & DVD’s shouldn’t stay in their cases, and that the bathroom is for crawling in (especially around the toilet).
Every speck of anything that you find on the floor is instantly transferred to your mouth. You put toys—or your sippy cup—in your mouth and crawl around using your mouth as anyone walking would use their hand.
You are a contemplative girl who takes life rather seriously. Laughter is hard to come by, and you’re a tough audience for silliness. But if you’re in just the right mood, tickling that chubby tummy brings uncontrollable giggling.
You are the sweetest little hugger and snuggler ever. During your nighttime feedings your only breaks are to sit up and roll over to give Daddy loves and pat his face or snuggle his arm before you come back to the nummers. It’s possible you get by with more because you snuggle your way out of everything. It’s also possible your parents have realized how quickly you are growing up and don’t mind the middle-of-the-night snuggles or the all-over-the-floor messes quite as much because of it.
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August 29, 2010
August 26, 2010
One of my most faithful blog readers doesn’t even have a computer. My maternal grandmother has a printed copy of every blog post I’ve written stored in a three-ring binder on the shelf in her living room. Each Friday, my sister faithfully prints out posts by she, me, and Grandma’s other grandchildren and sticks them in an envelope, affixes a stamp, and sends them on their way to Papa and Grandma. (I don’t have a printer, which is a good excuse for asking my little sister to do it!) On Monday or Tuesday, Grandma walks to the mailbox, and forsakes everything she was or should be doing, to read through the stack of blog posts from the previous week. Rather “old news” in the blogosphere by then, but fresh and new and much enjoyed by her.
The first dark blue notebook is another cousin’s updates about life now lived far away from the grandparents. The brown one (“nearly full” notes the photographer, my sister) has the blog posts from yours truly. The yellow notebook has e-mails from my cousin Abbie when she was travelling in Alaska and Africa. The green binder contains the details upon which my sister is “Harping Upon.” The pink one holds blogged letters to the baby girls of this Pink House. The maroon notebook contains more updates from Africa, via my cousin Jennifer (not Grandma’s own granddaughter, but one she prays for nonetheless!).
And the last on the shelf? The red binder holds Papa and Grandma’s Christmas Letters, written throughout their 56 years (and counting!) of marriage. (Not that we grandchildren come by our love for writing naturally or anything.)
Whenever I get confused regarding what I should be blogging about, I just remember that row of notebooks.
My paternal grandparents have a computer—and the internet! They might get the news a bit more quickly. But I don’t think it could be measured who enjoys the stories of their great-grandchildren more.
Whenever I get flustered over my audience, I think of my grandmas—one sitting in front of the computer in an office decorated with antique children’s toys that my daddy and I both played with, the other walking down the oak-bordered driveway to the mailbox beside the corral and barn on the ranch where my mom was raised.
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August 25, 2010
My recipe book falls open to page 402 every time, the page with our new favorite recipe: potato bread. Homemade bread made with homegrown potatoes—you can’t get much better than that! And we love to make at least one of the loaves each batch into a cinnamon swirl loaf my daughter calls “Cinn’ Bread.” The loaves rise beautifully—clear up to the top of my lil’ oven!
The dough can be sticky and a bit hard to work with until it’s risen once. But don’t let that scare you—it’s a fairly easy recipe, and one you’ll want to keep trying. It’s forgiving, too—if you don’t cook it long enough, the slices still slice up nicely. If you put too much flour in it, it’s tough but makes great French Toast. (Don’t ask me how I know these things…)
Enjoy! (And if you’d like a simpler bread recipe, check out our favorite wheat bread here.)
Turn the post card over to read more…
