Three memoirs you should add to your spring reading list
I read for all kinds of reasons, sometimes for pleasure, sometimes to escape. Other times I read to learn new perspectives.
I read for all kinds of reasons, sometimes for pleasure, sometimes to escape. Other times I read to learn new perspectives.
I don’t know what there is about Kevin Hart. I just love him. Since I first encountered him in the movie, Get Hard (my kids laugh at me for how much I went so crazy over that movie), I can’t get enough of him. I mean it; I love him. Imagine my delight when I discovered that he had written a book, I Can’t Make This Up: Life Lessons.
Last month I talked about the different categories detail what the different state court divisions do. To remind you, each county has a Superior Court with four divisions: Criminal, Civil, Family and Probate. There is also a statewide Environmental Division and a statewide Judicial Bureau. This month I am going to talk about the Criminal Division.
While there is still plenty of winter left and days by the fire go on, I’d like to suggest some reading inspiration for you. I hope to revisit many of the books and magazines my garden has benefited from over the years. Sometimes catalogues are good reading as well.
Many years ago, there was an opinion piece in the New York Times that has stayed with me. I have it printed out and re-read it often, and I have sent it to my children and they have, in turn, forwarded it to their own friends.
At the end of January, the Charlotte Planning Commission discussed changing the village boundaries for East Charlotte to include setbacks of 400 feet in all directions from the intersection of Spear Street and Hinesburg Road.
It’s nine degrees out now, two earlier this morning. A fire is roaring in the fireplace here, the sun is going down (though it seems as though it was just lunchtime), and the pug is snoring on the couch. A tea is at my elbow and the house is making creaking noises. It’s reading season. I have just ventured upstairs and gathered up a few of the books I have read since last time we spoke. I am now back at my seat by the fire (which I do not intend to leave anytime soon), ready to go.
“How did you become a judge?” “What’s the difference between state and federal court?” “How often can I be called for jury duty?”
On Christmas Eve, 1932, in South Detroit, “Saverio Armandonada warmed his hands underneath the tin lunch pail on his lap as he rode the trolley from the Chester Street stop to the River Rouge plant.” So begins Adriana Trigiani’s new novel, Tony’s Wife, which I just, this first day of the new year, finished.
I just got back from Thanksgiving in Copenhagen where, while you were eating turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce, I…
What remains With a little fewer than 4,000 people living in our town, I would say those numbers are…
There’s a gentleman whose hair is a fake color. He never mentions why he painted it blond, but he does, by the same token, talk a lot about “fake news” and why the news media has it in for him.
I don’t know about you, but I think one of the worst days of my life was Nov. 8, 2016. It felt like Sept. 11, 2001. Or that’s what it felt like to me, anyway. Like the world as I had loved it would never be the same again.
Charlotte-raised author Leath Tonino published a book this year through the Trinity University Press, San Antonio, Texas, titled The Animal One Thousand Miles Long: Seven Lengths of Vermont and Other Adventures.
When I was little, my father (a big reader) had a collection of Uncle Wiggily books. They were books he’d owned as a child. We probably had 20 of these books, each containing three stories and amazing drawings.
I know it’s truly fall when an email pops up in my mailbox with the heading: “Lamb with a Plan.” It’s John O’Brien, the Tunbridge sheep farmer inquiring if we wish to buy lamb again this year.
Here is a beautiful word I learned this past summer: deliquescence. It means having a tendency to melt or become liquid, to dissolve. I love it, the way it sounds, the idea, the imagery that comes with such a word. That something could kind of dissolve slowly, disappear … deliquesce.
Thank God for books. Books are many things…and one thing they are is an escape from the world. Not that I don’t love the world, because I do, but sometimes it all just gets to be too much. Like these past weeks.
It’s a quiet time of year now, as we begin that slow and ominous trek to shorter and colder days. Thank goodness for the brilliance along the way: the last gasp hues of the maple leaves, the deep red of the apples and, in my case, the bright pop of the yellow table out on the deck in a landscape otherwise gray and white and brown and rainy.
It was Tuesday afternoon, when the kids get out of school early — dismissal is at 2 p.m. instead of 3. My daughter, Coco, had made a plan with some of her 8th grade friends to walk across the street after school to Philo Ridge Farm. I loved this idea, that the kids have a place they could walk to from their school. I loved their planning and I loved, even more, the execution, which I saw because I drove past the school at just the moment when they were being chaperoned from CCS to Philo Ridge by none other than their principal, Jen Roth.