Stillmeadow Album - Gladys Taber

I've been feeling self-indulgent lately, so I ordered this book from a used book store on-line.  It's just what it says:  a photograph album of Gladys Taber's home, Stillmeadow, beloved by the author and by readers around the world and through the decades.

On the right page is a photo of Stillmeadow, on the facing page, Mrs. Taber has written a brief description of or memory about the photo.  (I just realized that the set-up of this book is exactly like that of the last one I posted about, Postmark Paris.)  We get to see the exterior of the 1690 Connecticut Saltbox house, the interiors, photos of her family, pets, and neighbors, and some of the land around the house.

If you're a fan of her writings, which I am, you'd love this look into her life via photographs and words.

Mrs. Daffodil / Gladys Taber

I grew up reading Gladys Taber's columns on country living written for Ladies' Home Journal and Family Circle.  My mother loved her quiet essays about the old country house she and her friend Jill (her name in the books, not her real name) lived in, their adventures keeping the old house alive, their neighbors and friends, their gardens and cooking, their cats and their dogs.  I loved them, too.  I have many of her books about Stillmeadow and Still Cove, her homes in Connecticut and on Cape Cod.

Bur for some reason, I didn't realize she had written fiction, too.  Mrs. Daffodil is fiction, but it is clearly autobiographical.  Mrs. Daffodil lives in an old farmhouse in the country with her friend Kay and writes columns about country living.  They have a Siamese cat and they raise Irish Setters and Cocker Spaniels.  The two of them labor around the place to keep things working, they garden, they cook, and they can.  Mrs. Daffodil happily greets admirers of her column who often drop by unannounced, Kay heads for the hills when they do.  Pure real Gladys Taber.

I think this is a charming, quiet book, instilled with country wisdom.  If you like the Miss Buncle books or Betty MacDonald's books, I think you'll like Mrs. Daffodil.  It's not bereft of problems:  small farmers are failing and housing developments are eating up the farmland, highways are cutting through residential land, people are having the same relationship problems they always have.  The septic system breaks, the new dishwasher won't work, Mrs. Daffodil gets locked in their old car, the help they hire does nothing but eat and cause problems while Mrs. Daffodil and Kay do all the work.

If you want a few serene moments out of your busy life, try this book, or any of Gladys Taber's Stillmeadow or Still Cove books. 

Last Weekend in Boston

I've been busy reading and running back and forth to Boston.  Now that the driving back and forth (5+ hours each way, depending on traffic  -  and we ran into a lot of traffic on this last trip!) is over, I have many things to catch up on at 'home'.  I say 'home' because Philadelphia will never feel as much like 'home' as New England feels like 'home'.  I've had the house to clean, after a month of neglect, and tons of small things to do that could wait until our vacation was over.

This past weekend was our last in Boston for this trip.  The big tragedy was that my Kindle went into a coma just when I needed it.  I was almost finished with India Black and didn't take another book, figuring that I'd just use my Kindle.  I charged it on Thursday, but when I opened it on Saturday, it said the battery was completely dead.  I hadn't brought the charger either.  So much for packing lightly.  (It's been fine since I charged it when we got back and is still holding a charge.  No idea what happened.)

One of the first things I did when we got to Boston was go to Bromfield Pen Shop for more fountain pen ink.  I just can't resist it!  Baystate Concord Grape and Ottoman Azure.  So, this photo is for Stefanie:

I was FORCED to go to Commonwealth Books to look for something to read.  I looked for Jamaica Inn, which Katrina and I plan to read together in June, but no luck.  I had a copy in Philly, but I thought if I could find a copy in Boston, I'd get a little head start.  However, I found four more Phoebe Atwood Taylor Asey Mayo mysteries!  I found nine over the course of our vacation in Boston, a real treasure.  But I learned my lesson about relying solely on my Kindle!  I felt very anxious without a book.

On Saturday, we met our friend Jenny, our ex-veterinarian, on Cape Cod.  We had lunch at the Old Yarmouth Inn and then she and I walked across the street to Parnassus used book store while Jack napped in the car.  I bought a Gladys Taber book I didn't own, My Own Cape Cod, and Jenny bought a copy of Ferdinand the Bull for her grandson.

Then the three of us walked up the street to the Edward Gorey House Museum.  I had my camera with me, but, as usual, I forgot to take pictures!  The house is a lovely, typical, old Cape house.  The downstairs is the only part open to the public, but there's so much to see there that it was enough for us. Gorey was one of the most imaginative and creative people I can think of.  I wish I'd known him.  He adored cats and reading and smooth, round stones and the ballet and toy mice (maybe for his cats) and too many other things to list.  I bought a T-shirt with books, the word 'Read' all over it, and cats lazing on all the books.

The docent at the Gorey House suggested that we might like to drive to Gray's Beach, one of the loveliest on the Cape.  Jenny had to get back to take care of her dogs, so Jack and I went to take a look.  It was a marsh on an inlet rather than a ripping, crashing wave, ocean beach.  But it had a long boardwalk across the marsh.  We saw an osprey nest and there was an osprey on it!  If you look closely at the photo, I hope you can see it.  The sea air was refreshing and reminded us of one of the things we miss about living inland.  We felt healthy breathing the salt air instead of the gritty stuff that passes for air in Philly.

And now we're back in Philadelphia.  We had a wonderful month in New England and hope to go back next fall.  The condo we rent for a month at a time is now like a home away from home.

Turtle, our cat, is still not sure that we won't be packing up and leaving her this weekend.  I've assured her that we're here for the next four or five months, but I don't think she believes me.  It's hard to read or use my lap top with a large, insecure grey cat on my lap!