The Snow Goose and The Nutcracker

The Snow Goose and The Nutcracker

Given the multiple shelves of Christmas books I inherited from Mom and Dad, it felt like high time to read a full month’s worth in December. The Nutcracker was considerably darker than I’d realized. I noticed my smallish nutcracker collection eying me knowingly as I came to realize the great sacrifice the poor fellow made to rescue Marie (called Clara in the ballet). The Snow Goose was like a fairy tale, bringing both warmth and a chill to the room…

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The matchmaker

The matchmaker

February 10, 1981: It was a dark and stormy night. George Stuteville and I were seated at the Press Table, half bored out of our skulls. He was the newspaper reporter; I was with the local radio station. We’d each been tasked with covering the regular school board meeting in Tell City, Indiana. There was nothing exciting on the agenda, just paying bills, accepting resignations, negotiating teacher contracts. As the meeting wound to a close, I whispered: “Hey George, are…

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Cam, Charlie, Cruella, Christie

Cam, Charlie, Cruella, Christie

Five books consumed this month, along with turkey, stuffing, and son John’s yummy pot roast. Thanksgiving included book shopping and book reading. Book 1: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl Grandson Cam and I read aloud a chapter or three together whenever we could these past few months. When he jumped in providing distinctive character voices for Willy Wonka and Grandpa Joe, I wanted to shout: “Theater kid! He’s a theater kid!” Well done, Cam. His thoughts: Charlie…

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Two Thanksgiving poems

Two Thanksgiving poems

Growing up, Thanksgiving was over the top. Turkeys weighed in at 25 or so pounds, and leftovers nearly burst the doors off the fridge. One year, I think it was 1976, Mom and I got the fancy idea to make chestnut stuffing for the turkey. I wish I could remember where we’d heard “chestnut stuffing” mentioned … in a book? A song? Either way, we decided it would be a fun mother-daughter project for Thanksgiving. I know it was not…

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The educator

The educator

One of these days, I’m going to figure out the story behind my maiden name: Vayo. Stepping back three generations on Dad‘s side, one family spelled their surname in three ways: Veilleux, Vayo, and Veayo. Just now, I double-checked all of great-grandpa George Vayo‘s siblings and parents and there is, frankly, no rhyme or reason that I can find. Several family members – including his parents – changed their surnames from Veilleux to Vayo, while a few of George’s siblings…

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Witches, Vampires, and a mouse named Algernon

Witches, Vampires, and a mouse named Algernon

October’s books were packed with Halloween vibes this year. Despite my dear mother’s DNA, I remain a scaredy cat when it comes to evil witches and things that go bump in the night. Nevertheless, I made it through some classic works without having to hide under the covers in fear of bad dreams. (Full disclosure: I’m still not in any hurry to watch any of the film versions.) Book 1: The Witches by Roald Dahl Witches are everywhere, according to…

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The editorial

The editorial

Oh, how I miss talking politics with Dad! At least once a day, I’ll hear or read a news story and immediately think to call Dad – or at least text him the link for later discussion. Here’s an example: Did you hear about the Benedictine nuns in Erie, Pennsylvania, accused of voter fraud this week? They’re not taking it lying down. Dad would have gotten such a kick out of reading about their leader’s barely contained furor. When I…

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‘House Bound’

‘House Bound’

This poem of Mom’s caught my eye the other day, just as Farmer Gary and I were reminiscing about the bittersweet work that goes into clearing out a long-loved house and finding another family who will make it home. In 2002, Dad was executor for Mom’s uncle Pip’s estate. Her cousins and even some of their children gathered to help clear out the home that for decades served as a gathering place for four generations of family. May and Pip…

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Counterfeit Christie

Counterfeit Christie

September was a month of reading three novels from the 1800s and two from the 1900s. When, in the more contempory book, the characters were on social media and making video calls, it was quite a shock. But the biggest shock of all was to discover that Agatha Christie mystery on my shelf … wasn’t. Book 1: What Katy Did by Susan Coolidge Here’s another children’s book I somehow missed as a child. This novel is set in the 1860s…

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The anniversary clock

The anniversary clock

This clock is not an unusual one. Or is it? I remember it sitting on a shelf along with books in my parents’ library. Mom and Dad both passed away in that room, which seemed fitting, given their love of words, books, poetry, and plays. It’s a pretty clock. An anniversary clock. I assumed it was a family heirloom, thinking it was from Mom’s aunt May’s home. But no one else remembers that. At first, the clock made its new…

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