Does anyone remember that old Nat King Cole song, the one about lazy summers that played on the radio all the time, it seemed, in the summer in the early sixties? “Those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer….” Did those kinds of perfect lazy summers really happen to real people? Other than the kids I read about in my Trixie Belden books or Archie and Veronica comics?
I remember longing for summer, but not for the actual summer I’d have. More for some mythical summer that I was sure other kids experienced. Summers spent with mobs of friends at a summer camp on a beach at a lake. Days of horse back riding and pool parties. Or family vacations in a station wagon. Or, and this was my dream for years, on a houseboat. Sigh. I have the Bobbsey Twins to thank for that one.
Summers when I was a kid were not at all like what I read about in books And they were a bit lonely. Mum worked. My brother and sisters had summer jobs, but I was too young.
Most of the families in our semi-rural, working class neighbourhood could not afford summer vacations. Of course there was a mob of kids, and those of us who had bikes rode them all over the neighbourhood and beyond. But most of the kids were younger than me and not terribly fun to play with, especially if we were trying to make up baseball teams. And there was no lake, or horseback riding, or pool parties. Some days my friend Marie and I filled up the old washtub in our backyard and pretended we were having a pool party. It just took a little imagination. Or a lot of imagination. Ha.
I remember organizing a pyjama party one year. Someone, somewhere in a book I’d read had had a pyjama party. All the kids came in their pyjamas, stayed for two hours, and then went home. Mum made us popcorn. We sat around the kitchen table in our apartment with the lights off, except for a candle in the middle of the table, while my sister Connie told us ghost stories. Until one boy began to cry, and we had to turn a light on before he’d stop. I remember Mum telling me later not to laugh at him because his life at home was not very nice, and he was always scared. I felt bad after that for not being more empathetic.
And then, when I was fourteen we moved to the farm, and even though I adored the farm, summer was anything but lazy. Summer meant there was always something to be harvested, or picked, or tractors to be driven, or the ferry operated. Mind you, I loved driving the tractor, and being stand-in ferry operator. But “helping Mum around the house” or picking endless rows of beans in the garden… not so much.
Soon enough I was old enough to have a summer job myself. And I worked every summer until I moved to Ottawa after university, and began full-time employment. And then my summer vacation meant a trip home. Where it seemed the dreaded beans were always flourishing. Ha.
So to be honest, although we always longed for summer, it was not lazy, nor hazy, and only rarely crazy. It was not the idyllic summer I read about in books.
But, and this is important, at least there were books. There were always books. And summer always meant reading way more books than at any other time of year. When I was a kid, summer meant more books, more reading… summer reading. Even after I had a summer job and worked all day, there was no homework to do at night, and I had more time to read.
And then I started teaching and met Hubby and summers began to mean something altogether different. Summers meant free time. And holidays. It’s odd to think of now, but I’d never actually been on a holiday until I met Hubby. Except for Debbie’s and my grad trip to Moncton in grade twelve.
Suddenly summer meant free time and lazy days of summer reading on the deck. And summer camping trips with Hubby. Which, among other pleasures, meant reading in the tent at night, or on the shore after our afternoon swim propped up on a lifejacket for a pillow. And even, strange as it might seem, in the canoe. Well, I read anyway. Hubby paddled. Turned out I could use one hand for my trolling rod, and one for my book.
So, as I think I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been having a lazy, hazy summer so far this year. And that means lots of summer reading, of course. Not in the canoe, though. Not this year.
Let me tell you about what I’ve been reading.
In June, I read the book I bought in Toronto, Anthony Horowitz’s latest mystery Marble Hall Murders. I enjoyed it. I especially enjoyed the return of the character Susan Ryeland. If you read Magpie Murders and Moonflower Murders, you’ll remember editor Susan Ryeland. Like in the previous two books in the series, Susan confronts a literary mystery that bleeds (pun intended) into real life. And it involves fictional detective Atticus Pünd, and real life writer (at least in Horowitz’s novel he’s real) and Pünd creator Alan Conway, and what Susan’s boss, publisher Michael Flynn, calls a “continuation novel” where he hires a new writer to carry on the story of Atticus Pünd. I know; it’s confusing. There’s a novel within the novel, as there was in Horowitz’s other Pünd books. The unravelling of the mystery, by unravelling the mystery novel that’s being written in the novel, is interesting, if a trifle contrived at times. But, as I said, I enjoyed the book overall.
I also read the third in Simon Mason’s “Finder” series. I really like these books. They are lean and well-crafted. Kind of similar to the Wycliffe novels by W.J. Burley or Peter Grainger’s D.C. Smith novels: competently written, lean in style, police procedurals. I read Mason’s first two in the series a few months ago, Missing Person: Alice and The Case of the Lonely Accountant. Although I enjoyed all three, I think I liked his third one, The Woman Who Laughed, the best.
The main character in the series is a mystery himself. A specialist detective who is called in by police forces to deal with particularly confounding missing person cases, he is simply referred to as “Finder.” I love the step by step solving of the cases, the detail of the plots, the amassing of clues, the developing of characters. I also love how “Finder” carries a classic novel with him when he travels for a case. He reads his book in spare moments, or to help him to sleep, and the novels he’s reading always have unexpected parallels to the cases he’s investigating. The way that Finder begins to see relevance between Jane Austen’s Persuasion and the case of a murdered prostitute is brilliant, I thought.
After a couple of tries I finally became immersed in Clare Chambers’ Shy Creatures. The novel is about William, a reclusive man, who is eventually admitted to a psychiatric hospital where art therapist Helen works. At first I kept putting the book down because it didn’t capture my attention for long, and then, as so often happens, I could not put it down.
William’s story is sad, tragic, poignant, and fascinating. As is the story of his three unmarried aunts with whom he lives. And the way that Chambers slowly unfurls William’s story by going into his past is captivating. It was the present day plot that Chambers intersperses with the past that I struggled with: Helen’s affair with her colleague Gil, Dr. Rudden, her oddly unemotional family, and the fact that she is distantly related to Gil’s wife. Even after Helen’s and Gil’s first encounter with William and his bizarre living situation my interest petered out. Until Chambers, as I said, began to unravel William’s past. Then I was hooked.
I normally really like Clare Chambers’ work. I loved Small Pleasures. So maybe my slowness to get into the book was more about me and my mood. I don’t know. I do know that I’m glad I persisted with Shy Creatures.
And because we’ve been watching old mystery programs on Brit Box lately, I’ve been feeling nostalgic. We started watching Foyle’s War from the beginning. Did you know that Anthony Horowitz created the Foyle series? And we’ve been enjoying the really, really old Frost series. And even watched a few of the old Sherlock Holmes series with Jeremy Brett, and some of the first Morse programs. The ones we couldn’t remember at any rate.
And that whetted my appetite for books I’ve read before. Old favourites. Like Diane Johnson’s Le Divorce. I loved this book back in the nineties. In fact, I’d never heard of the Kelly bag until I read this book. And I read Elizabeth Von Arnim’s The Enchanted April. I bought the book for my Mum, and she loved it. And then I bought her the movie which I’d seen and loved in the nineties. Mum and I used to rewatch the movie together regularly. Last week I reread Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day by Winifred Watson for probably the third time. I love that book. I also bought it for Mum, and she loved it as much as me.
So much of what I love to read and watch is tied up with my mum and grandmother. Mum loved her gentle books as much as I do. I remember buying her Miss Buncle’s Book. She used to take it with her when she was in hospital the last few years. She said she could reread it over and over and not get tired of it. And of course, the love of literary murder and mayhem comes from my grandmother. She loved her murder mysteries, and passed that love on to her daughter and her daughter’s daughter.
Summers aways make me nostalgic. Not for the mythical summers I thought everyone but me experienced. But for the actual, unromantic, imperfect summers I remember.
The innocence of my friend and I playing pool party with a bucket and an old washtub. Reading about doll carriage parades somewhere, having no idea what they were, and still organizing our version with the neighbourhood kids. We loaded up our wagons, and tricycles, and doll carriages with all our dolls and formed a line and pulled and pushed them up and down the road a few times.
I remember riding my bike all the way down to Marysville to buy a Pal-o-mine bar and a pop at the corner store whose name escapes me. I can visualize that little store, but I can’t remember its name. I remember building camps and forts in the woods. And waiting impatiently for my friend Suzanne to arrive from Ontario.
And a few years later later, when we’d moved to the farm, and had been haying on Sugar Island all day and evening, I remember trying to stay awake on the back of the load of hay, tractor lights piercing the darkness, fireflies blinking around us, as we headed home. That was always magical.
But. But. Those darned beans would still be waiting for me to pick them the next day. Gad I hated picking beans. It’s too bad I never devised a way to read while I was picking. Now that would have been truly magical.
Still, whether I was bored and a bit lonely, pretending to be having a better summer than I was, picking beans, or haying, or whatever… there was always the summer reading. Always. Always.
Now it’s your turn my friends. Tell us about your lazy summer, perfect or imperfect, and what you’ve been reading.
P.S. The book links in this post are affiliate links. If you make a purchase after clicking my link, I will earn a commission which helps to pay for the blog. If you’d rather not buy the book, but still want to support my blog, you can always buy me a coffee.
46 thoughts on “Lazy Summer Reading”
We’re reading Helen Macdonald’s “H is for Hawk” in our book club. She has a wonderful way with words and shows us the fascinating world of birds of prey.
I know of the book, Sandy. But I’ve not read it. Not sure why. 🙂
Hi Susan
I am reall enjoying the Tanni Maria books by Sally Walker. the first was “Recipes for Love and Murder” and the second is “The Satanic Mechanic”. I came across “Recipes for Love and Murder” on Acorn streaming service. There are two series, set in the Karoo region of South Africa. The TV series are great but the books are even better. I think you would particularly enjoy them on Audible.
Kind regards
Shirley Fisher
Love that title The Satanic Mechanic! Thanks for the suggestion.
Non-fiction, here. Somebody gave me Stow’s A Survey of London 1598 and it is a delight, very easy to understand. And a book about the Viking invasions of England. So I have plenty to be going on with. Re summers past…we didn’t seem to go on holiday much, probably because we lived near the coast and people came to us. I loved it, my mum probably hated it. Gone was her peace and quiet, instead a total round of feeding people. And yes, we built dens, played out all day long on bikes and with our dolly prams, long games of Monopoly and reading comics, hoping the ice cream van would arrive. Paddling pool in the garden. Nothing much happened, but it kept on not happening in a very reassuring way. If I got bored I read my Famous Five books again – one summer I read Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass. Both perplexed me. And Edward Lear’s nonsense poetry. So odd. Boredom can be useful.
That’s a great line, Annie: “Nothing much happened but it kept on not happening in a very reassuring way.” 🙂
Currently rereading the CJ Sansom Shardlake novels interspersed with David J Gatward detective series set in Harrogate, next on my horizon are the Whitstable Pearl series.
Childhood summers mean being out all day on our bikes and making dens in the nearby woods, brightly coloured ice-pops and being made to go to bed when it was still light.
And sorry but yes, riding our ponies through the stubble fields when I had the much anticipated visit to my cousin whose Dad run a riding stable / livery yard, my favourite part.
The Shardlake books are so well written, aren’t they. I had to take a break after the third. They are so gritty, I needed a sunny book for a change. How lovely to have had a riding stable in the family!!
Childhood summers were being handed sandwiches & pop by mum & being told to get out in the countryside with the rest of the gang & not to come back till teatime . We loved the freedom of it all . Adult summers were being asked by teacher friends how we were planning to spend the summer & replying that we would be at work as usual 😏ah well . Books I’ve enjoyed lately – a family saga ‘Maine ‘ by Courtney Sullivan . ‘If Walls Could Talk’ by Lucy Worsley , an intimate history of the home , full of ‘fancy that !’ moments . I’m currently part way through the latest Jane Casey , so back with Maeve & Jake tantalising each other whilst trying to solve a murder & I’m really enjoying it . We like old detective series too & never seem to remember who did the murder . Perhaps it’s our age ? Some other series we’ve watched again -Scott & Bailey , New Tricks & more recent one Guilt , a very good Scottish series . Perhaps one of those is new to you ? We are off into the city now for an anniversary meal ( 57 years 😲) at a very good South Indian restaurant this time . We hadn’t even tasted real Indian food 57 years ago .
Happy anniversary Wendy!
D.
Thanks D & I’m glad you enjoyed Eligible .
Happy Anniversary to you and Max, Wendy.
I think we’ve watched the New Tricks series at least three times. The last time from the very first episode. Last night we started watching Code of Silence on Brit Box. It’s very good so far.
I am commenting about your “rollover” (How ever you write it) pant post. At 5’4 I often roll over the waist bands of my pants so they will be the right length, and I do love the outfit in that post too. Right now, that is my favorite uniform.
Thanks, Robyn.
We’ve just discovered Foyle’s War this summer and are absolutely loving it. We’ve binged our way through to Season 7 and are already lamenting that we are almost finished.
We are loving Foyle too…. the characters and the writing.
It’s not summer here in Australia, but I accidentally discovered Cosy Crime via Joanne Tracey, Fiona Leitch and Peter Boland and am loving the whole thing after a lifetime of reading hist.fict. I still love hist.fict but Cosy Crime balances out this insidious world just now.
Foyle’s War, Morse, Endeavour, all the Midsomer Murders, Lewis, and Spooks – all brilliant and worth watching multiple times.
Finally, there was a touch of Anne of GG in this latest post of yours. Pretending and imagination – such tools of Anne’s trade. Beautiful.
Lots of pretending when I was a kid. I adored Anne of Green Gables. 🙂
Childhood summers were days in the park with a bottle of sugared water🤢 occasionally orange juice and Jam butties 😋 .
I started working at 15 so like everyone else summer was weekends and annual holidays mainly spent shopping 👗👠 or lying in 🌞 getting a tan or burning more likely and reading,
Now retired my summers are about 🏌️🏌️🏌️ and still reading but mainly under an umbrella, I’ve just finished reading Louise Penny, Chief Inspector Gamache series , and occasional singing with one of my choirs at summer fetes,☺️
As a teenager trying to get a tan on the weekends after I started working summers was an exercise in futility. 🙂
My paternal grandmother was widowed and has an attic full of wonderful pre-WW II books and film journals-what a bliss!
Summer memories ….. playing with neighbour’s children outside, from breakfast till evening
Swimming, whole day in the sea with my parents and the friends on the hollidays …..
Reading,reading…..but I was happy to go to school again
Following Wendy’s recommendations here (but a bit sceptical), I’ve read Eligible-after a couple of chapters, it was excellent
Dorothy Evelyn Smith’s Miss Plum and Miss Penny is a novel from 1959.,a plot,characters,it made me think a lot about people,feelings,manners,life….I’ve enjoyed reading it
Paula Sutton’s second mystery, The Potting Shed Murder was nice and cosy summer read
Dottoressa
On both your recommendations I’ve just signed Eligible out of the library. I need something light at the moment. I’m trying to finish Carys Davies’ novel Clear, and while I admire it, I’m finding it slow going, and have a sense of doom as to how it will end.
You know, I grew up quite close to the Atlantic (about a 2 hour drive) and had never swum in the ocean until my twenties.
My family did a lot of camping in New England during the summers. My father would take his vacation and we’d all go for for a week or two, and then he’d take the car and drive back to Boston to work for the week, leaving Mom and 4 kids at the campground. There was a little camp store and it always worked out from my kid perspective. He’d come back the following weekend. Mom loved sitting in the shade reading her paperback murder mysteries while we ran around and made new friends.
Now retired, and I am enjoying summer afternoons reading in the shade in the backyard, drinking iced tea, faintly hearing the breeze and windchimes, and perhaps taking a little nap! Recent favorites are The Correspondent by Virginia Evans, and Long Island by Colm Toibin.
This is like many of my childhood summers. My dad had two weeks of vacation in the summer, and we would drive 8 hours to a little town in the Adirondacks. He would then go home and my mom would stay on with us in a tiny rented house, since she was a teacher. We spent the summers in the lake, occasionally on horseback (I begged for this), and the rest of the time with a book and a coca-cola.
I have been reading Dorothy Sayers, my favorite being The Nine Tailors. Casually racist (!!), but a great writer. The new Elly Griffiths, The Frozen People, was wonderful, and so was Wedding People by Alison Espach. And Nightwatch by Jayne Anne Phillips, though it was a tough read emotionally. Wasn’t sure I would keep going, until suddenly I couldn’t put it down.
I wish my mum had been able to have holidays when we were kids. I think she would have loved a change of scenery and time to read her books in the shade.
Thanks for the book suggestions Roberta and Julia.
P.S. I’m a Dorothy Sayers fan as well. Loved Gaudy Night.
This was a very well-written post! I enjoyed reading about your summer memories of being a child. I can relate to helping in the garden, since my grandfather had been a farmer as a young man and so after his professional retirement he bought a farm again. Oh boy did we have vegetables coming out our ears (especially corn, but also pumpkins in fall and I’m sure there were plenty of beans, too)! I especially remember having to shuck peas.
I mostly enjoyed summer, since my mother was a stay-at-home mother in the early years before she went back to teaching, but even then she had summer holidays. We didn’t have much money, but we were allowed to roam around with other kids and always had activities to go to, such as swimming or the zoo or the science centre or museum (we lived in Toronto). I do remember that other kids were much wealthier (I went to school with the granddaughter of the owner of the Leafs). They went on fancy trips that I didn’t understand, but I didn’t feel anything was lacking when I was small anyway.
When I was teenager I got to go away to summer camp once or twice and the truth is that I didn’t really enjoy it. One reason was that it was a a church camp and by the age of twelve or thirteen I think I was pretty sure that I was done with the idea of religion, which seemed to be only about controlling people. I also didn’t like having to stay in cabins with other girls, who could be mean and were always competitive and gossipy. I did like the swimming and canoeing, however!
My favourite summers were in my teens, when my mom got excited about exploring all of the provincial parks in Ontario and we visited many and camped outside. Even if it rained on our tents and we spent a miserable day or two with wet sleeping bags, I saw so many beautiful places all around the province and even way up north. Cooking and eating outside was so much fun.
I find it interesting to read about all of the mystery series people enjoy. I don’t know if it’s a generational thing in that I’m younger, but I haven’t found that interest yet. Perhaps in retirement! It must be nice enjoying your lazy reading by the river (still trudging my way to work…ugh…).
Sometimes in the summer I’d stay with my grandmother Sullivan for a week. She lived in town and there was a corner store right across the street where they sold penny candy… bliss.
My parents had a ladies fashion shop, so holidays were when I was off school, where we’d head off, either to Scotland & visiting relatives, or over to Europe, all in our campervan. We’d be gone at least 3 weeks, depending on where we were going, north of south. It was brilliant, and I realise I’m very lucky. But everyone got to see a much add i did as a child.
Once we were back, I used to earn pocket money by helping in the shop, either serving or doing the boring jobs, but i didn’t mind.
I used to read a lot. I mean 3-4 books a week. Once past the Famous Five books, I moved onto Manor House books, and is the reason i asked to go to boarding school! But then i got into the more heavy duty grown-up books that my parents were reading (they were avid readers even to the end!) For example, Papillon, Gone With The Wind & Centennial. I got into lots of other book series, like Clive Cussler am me Dirk Pitt.
I’m trying to get back into reading, as i used it to “escape” in a past relationship, but once that happened, I fell out of the habit! I’ll take a look at some of these recommendations and see if I can restart.
Roaming Europe in a camper van sounds wonderful. Hubby and his family were stationed in Europe when he was a young teenager; his father was in the Canadian Air Force. They went somewhere every holiday pulling their homemade tent trailer behind their Volkswagen beetle. I guess driving some of the mountain passes in Italy were a bit hairy because the car had trouble hauling the load of camping supplies plus four people and they’d get a long line of cars held up behind them.
Trixie Belden – I spent many a summer night with my booked propped by my bedroom window, after “light’s out”, reading in to discover what adventure she, Honey and the gang would get involved in next.
I know now that I was luckier than most kids. My mum and dad always scraped money together so my younger brother and I could go away to summer camp. And there were always weeks away at a rented cottage. My birthday falls in the second week of July, which always meant a new book or two. My older brother has some learning differences, so mum read to us at the cottage. Tom Brown’s Schooldays and Alice in Wonderland come to mind.
I still work, so summer holidays are not quite the same. But I live on a river in a cottagey-like home, with chipmunks and squirrels aplenty. The scent of the outdoors first thing in the morning can’t be beat. It’s like I’m at summer camp all over again.
This summer I’ve read Fayne, by Ann-Marie MacDonald. A bit slow going at first, but very well-crafted. I missed the characters once I’d finished the book. Currently enjoying Nalah Ayed’s The War We Won Apart.
I, too, am a lover of Foyle, Magpie & Moonflower Murders. I’m going to look for Horowitz’s continuation.
Lined up are The Briar Club by Kate Quinn (I’ve enjoyed many of her books) and Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre, as a companion on another trip back to Yorkshire in September.
I read a Nalah Ayed book a couple of years ago and really enjoyed it. I can’t remember the title. She is lovely, I think.
It’s always so interesting to hear what others are reading. I was a staunch HF reader until I started following you and now enjoy a much wider menu of books and authors, particularly mysteries. But the last couple of years I’ve been working my way through Edward Rutherfurd. I started with Russka as it is basically the origin story of Ukraine and my husband’s family origin. Since then I’ve read London, New York, and Paris. If I can get through a couple a year that’s an accomplishment. They are huge and complex. I intersperse Rutherfurd with lighter fare and this year I decided to start rereading Jane Austen. I just finished Emma as I had thought I wanted to pass it on to my 12 year old granddaughter. I’m now not so sure that Austen will appeal to her or if she’ll be able to get past the language as it truly is of another time. She’s a good reader and mature for 12 but this may be a stretch. I’ve been on the hunt for Austen editions for young readers and in modern language to see if that might work. I think it would be a great pity for young readers to miss out on Austen. But that is my perspective and projection. I may have to be satisfied with watching the movies made from Austen’s work with her. I’m sure every generation of grandparents bemoans how different the subsequent generation of grandchildren is.
Meanwhile my husband’s chiropractor recommended Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. Hubby liked it and finished it, which is rare for him. I’m about a third in and it’s a good escape for a summer read. But I’m looking forward to the next Rutherfurd!
It’s interesting. My mom gave me classics like A Tale of Two Cities and the Scarlett Pimpernel, and I read Jane Eyre at twelve, but Austen I left to my twenties. George Eliot, too. I wonder if it helps to have experienced the vagaries of romantic love before you tackle Austen and Eliot, and to appreciate the wit. Jane Eyre had the compelling angle of the orphanage and mistreatment. I had a mini bookclub with another twelve year-old girl at the time and we cried together when Jane’s friend died.
If you like Jane Eyre at all there is a fantastic graphic novel with great illustrations called Jane, the Fox and Me. It is beautifully done (particularly the illustrations, that bloom from black and white into colour as the girl’s world grows).
That sounds like excellent advice, Steph. Jane Eyre was made for young girls with a romantic sensibility, I think.
UK summers as a child were spent playing in the street then visting local park eith kids from the street. Plus reading and going to the library.
Now currently reading and collecying the unabridged books of the Chalet School series plus some of the fill ins. Odd I know but the continuity is restful.
BBC TV has serialised the Magpie Murders and the 2nd book which were very good, I needed to concentrate hard!
I love Foyles war and we’ve watched them multiple times.
I love the calm mood of Foyle’s War. Even with murder and war around him, he carries on unhurriedly. Plus I love Michael Kitchen.
Yes, summer is a state of mind but my love for it revolves around trips to Disneyland and the beach as a child. I still enjoy reminding myself of those special times. And I enjoy your review of books, especially mysteries, which is my favorite genre. I too like the Magpie Murders series and the PBS series with Lesley Manville is so good. I am reading the latest Michael Connelly which is the introduction of a new investigator living on the island of Catalina off the coast of California. It’s good.
Trips to Disneyland were very far out of my realm when I was a kid. Ha. Perhaps in my imagination, though. I used to love watching Walt Disney on television on Sunday nights. I remember a show with Annette Funicello called “The Horse Masters.” I adored that and afterwards we played “Horse Masters”, trotting around clicking our tongues.
I loved visiting my grandparents in the summer where nothing much happened, but I could read to my hearts content. They had a bookshelf full of Readers Digest condensed books. I know some considered these sacrilege, but they introduced me to some great modern novels and opened up a world beyond the young adult books I was then reading.
Am currently looking for modern authors similar to DE Stevenson(eternally grateful to Sue for leading me to her). I have found a few, but they all seem a bit preachy. I have been watching Leanne on Netflix and it is so funny! I especially love the scenes with her aging parents as I can relate completely.
My grandmother had the Reader’s Digest books too. They opened up a whole world of reading for me, all the classics.
Love D.E. Stevenson. Have you tried Dorothy Whipple? Or Ursula Orange? I read my way through their offerings a few years ago.
Sue, What a lovely post. I so enjoyed you reminiscing about your childhood summers. I did not know you were on a farm. Books always figured into mine as well. Even now I am giving myself much more time for reading in the warmer months. Nothing beats sitting outdoors with ice tea and a book in the summer.
My childhood was also simpler. We did not have fancy vacations.. In fact I knew few who had ever gone on a plane. Summers were riding my baby blue bike to the local library, making lemonade and popsicles, and playing outdoors until it was dark! My dad always grew green beans, corn and tomatoes and the garden was right outside my bedroom window. I hated when the beans got strung across my window for a few months! We were always snapping beans to eat.
I just love your river view! Enjoy August. x Kim
Thanks, Kim. I forgot about popsicles! Mum had a set of Tupperware (I think) homemade popsicle makers. Kool-Aid turned into popsicles in a few hours.
I haven’t thought about Trixie Belden in years but she was such a part of my teen life. We are soul sisters! I never compared my summers with the adventures of Trixie and Nancy Drew. We played school where I was the teacher, of course, marbles and grocery store where I ran the cash register. Thanks, Sue, for bringing me back to my childhood in suburban Detroit just across from Windsor.
We played grocery store too. Set up our wares and sold them to each other. I can’t remember what we used as a cash register, though. On our walk a couple of weeks ago, my friend and I passed two young girls with a lemonade stand. Gad, hadn’t seen one of those in years. Of course we stopped and purchased. The pitcher of lemonade was finished and one girl ran back into their house and came out with juice boxes. I’m not sure if their mum knew they were selling out her supply. Ha.
This is a really great post. I finally had the time to read it. I’m glad there are others out there who love to read! I always have a book going and am always looking for the next one. I just finished Marble Hall murders. I loved the other books and PBS series as well.
As an only child I read a lot during the summer and still do.
I now have a lot of book suggestions. I like this subject just as much as your fashion and beauty posts. I get a lot of good information from all the subjects.
Phew it’s been a busy week and just read this post! So nostalgic…when we were young my brothers and I and a few cousins were ‘incarcerated’ ( or so we felt) at our great Aunt’s & our Grandmother’s sprawling summer property on Ontario’s Georgian Bay. No roads we got there by boat and there was no phone and just a small B& W TV that got one station from Barrie ON. Our bay was even called Go Home Bay!!!But…there were several acres of pristine Canadian Shield waterfront to roam backing on to the hardwood forests our great grandfather had lumbered. There were boats to mess about in, one with a very sketchy 1940’s Evinrude engine that had the fuel tank right beside the motor….it actually exploded in the lake with my eight year old brother aboard ship. He was unharmed but what a fright. There were the two rowboats the Alice and the BlueJay both riddled with dry rot they still floated if bailed!! Those summers gave me a love of reading as our great aunt had acquired many books, most were long out of print even then and we thought them very odd but a book of Pogo cartoons was beloved by us. Looking back summers there without our parents were a privilege on many levels, learning about indigenous food and culture from my grandmother and local young women who came to work for the old ladies in the summer and who taught us how to paddle a canoe and appreciate the flora and fauna of the marsh. We got to meet famous people who came to visit or cottaged in the Bay, we never knew they were famous or dignitaries they wore jeans and often had bare feet like us as they sat chatting on the verandah with a gin and tonic. I can remember going to several places nearby made famous by the Group of Seven but to us it was just the landscape and where we picnicked or searched for blueberries occasionally flushing out a sleepy rattle snake!
My Prince Edward Island cottage is far more humble but I hope my grandchildren grow up with happy memories of their visits, I always bring a haul of books for them….nothing like lounging on a bunk bed of a rainy summer day with a good book!
Comments are closed.