Books 13-22 for the year. Have I mentioned that my goal of just reading books that I have sitting on my “to be read” shelf has mostly gone by the wayside? Part of the problem is that I keep falling down rabbit holes when listening to podcasts and discovering the books that people recommend are available at the library. The other problem I’m encountering is that many of the books I haven’t read are meant to be used rather than just read. You have to do things as you read rather than sitting peacefully and reading them cover to cover.

Unraveling: What I Learned About Life While Shearing Sheep, Dyeing Wool, and Making the World’s Ugliest Sweater by Peggy Orenstein: I’m leery of pandemic memoirs, or even books that reference the pandemic, but I was surprised to enjoy this one. One reason was that I was reading The Living Mountain at the same time, and I was missing a human protagonist. I also have a strange fascination with sheep after reading Hit by a Barn and Sheepish by Catherine Friend last year, and I’ve been learning to crochet. The title pretty much says it all–the author set out to make a sweater from start to finish: shearing, cleaning, spinning, dyeing, and knitting. I really enjoyed this book, but I was left with an overall sadness at the huge amount of waste in wool–sheep need to be sheared, but the wool is often just thrown away because its value is less than the cost to make something out of it. I wasn’t inspired to knit a sweater, but I kept remembering little tidbits from the book in the weeks that followed. For example, in the section about dyeing and indigo, she mentions that the Japanese word for “green” (midori) appeared much later than we might think–many things we’d consider to be green are called “blue.” One instance that I remember from my two years of Japanese is ao ringo (青リンゴ), which means “green apple,” but “ao” means “blue.”

Root Beer Lady: The Story of Dorothy Molter by Bob Cary: I already wrote a whole post about Dorothy Molter, and this book was a major source for the one-woman play written about her. It was a bit confusing, though, since it followed themes rather than being chronological, so I wasn’t ever sure where the book was going next. I enjoyed learning more about Dorothy (and was a bit disappointed that she wasn’t the completely self-reliant powerhouse I’d built her up to be), but I had to push a bit to get through the book.

The Living Mountain by Nan Shepherd: Robert Macfarlane really loves this book. According to his book The Gifts of Reading, it’s one of the five books he’s constantly giving away to people. And yet I really struggled with it. Though the writing is beautiful, I kept searching for a human protagonist, or, since this is nonfiction, a human center to the book through which I could better understand the mountain. But, as is noted in the title, the mountain (the Cairngorms in Scotland) is the protagonist. There were a few bits about people living in the mountain’s shadow that inspired a few story ideas, but after having read the book, I’m perversely less interested in traveling to see that corner of the world.

I Must Be Dreaming and Going into Town: A Love Letter to New York by Roz Chast: I picked these up because I recognized the name (I read Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant? last year) and read them quickly. Not a lot stuck with me except the idea that comics can be messy (not just perfectly rendered black lines), which was later reinforced by Lynda Barry’s book.

In Praise of Idleness: The Classic Essay with a New Introduction by Bradley Trevor Greive by Bertrand Russell: Most of what was interesting in this essay was summarized in Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman. This particular version had an introduction, a follow-up essay about Russell’s life, and illustrations by Bradley Trevor Greive.

Lab Girl by Hope Jahren: I loved her discovery that the pit of a hackberry had a lattice of opal, especially since I’ve crunched a few between my teeth after taking a foraging class a few years ago. And I’m envious of those who are driven by the need to know why things are as they are. But I didn’t want to experience the fallout from her manic episodes, so I stepped away from the audiobook (narrated by the author, who always sounded sad) after finishing a bit over half of it.

Ghostland: An American History in Haunted Places by Colin Dickey: I’d been rewatching episodes of Ask a Mortician and come across Caitlyn’s reference to this book. I’ve been ghost hunting a few times with a semi-professional wrestler (long story), but though other people I’ve gone with have experienced things and I’ve managed to creep myself out severely, I can’t say I have seen any proof of ghosts existing. This book was fascinating, but it completely ruined ghost hunting for me. I had thought it was lovely, at the very least, that the craze was keeping local history alive. One of the points Dickey makes, however, is that many of the stories about the events surrounding the locations are skewed or completely made up by those hoping to make money off the “hauntings.” One major example he cites is that of Sarah Winchester, owner of the “Winchester Mystery House” who supposedly was inspired by ghosts of those killed by Winchester rifles to keep building on to the house in order to avoid their vengeance. Not true, according to Dickey’s research. (And yes, this blew my mind a bit, since I’ve heard the stories over and over and even been on a tour.) He pointed out that many of the places described within the house, such as the seance room, don’t exist. Many of these stories were credited to an anonymous source in one newspaper article and later debunked by those who knew Winchester, though they were eventually built up and elaborated upon by the person who purchased the house and made money by giving tours. So why did she have such a bizarre house? Perhaps she simply enjoyed experimenting with architecture and had the funds to do so. Similar examples, such as the question of why there are so few Black ghosts, made me rethink a lot of the lore about hauntings.

Making Comics by Lynda Barry: I keep picking up books that are meant to be used rather than just read. This book is full of illustrated examples and exercises from her comics writing course. (I’m not sure how it differs from Syllabus, which is described as the same, but I’m hoping to pick that up as well.) I read through it, skimming through the exercises, and knowing that I’ll buy a composition notebook, note cards, and felt-tipped markers at some point when I get my hands on my own copy. (This copy had to go back to the library.)

A Walk Around the Block: Stoplight Secrets, Mischievous Squirrels, Manhole Mysteries & Other Stuff You See Every Day by Spike Carlsen: My mom and I listened to this book on the way to and from Grand Island, Nebraska, where we were driving to see the sandhill cranes. As lifelong Minnesota residents, we both appreciated the references to local cities like St. Paul, Shoreview, and Stillwater. And we expressed great skepticism that the stripes flashing past us on the highway are 10 feet long and the spaces between them 40 feet long, though it’s difficult to check that out with a measuring tape. Overall, however, the various essays about different parts of local infrastructure–power stations, sewers, roads, etc.–didn’t quite gel into a coherent whole. They were fun to learn about, but I didn’t feel like the book quite earned the heavier environmental message at the end.

Next up? I’m hoping to do a sketch-a-day and poem-a-day for the month of April, which is National Poetry Month. The sketch-a-day is in preparation for getting deeper into nature journaling, which is where my interests seem to be leaning at the moment. These might get posted on Instagram. We’ll see.

Currently reading: World Enough & Time by Christian McEwen
Currently drinking: Rose tea
Currently listening: Journaling with Nature (So many rabbit holes!)