Jane Austen's Guide to Thrift: An Independent Woman's Advice on Living within One's Means

Jane Austen's Guide to Thrift:
An Independent Woman's Advice on Living within One's Means
Authors: Kathleen Anderson and Susan Jones
Publisher: Berkley Paperbacks
Publication Date: April 2, 2013
ISBN: 978-0-425-26016-6

Book Description:
Embrace your inner Jane and find a new way of life in thrift! Jane Austen knew that wealth and grandeur had little to do with happiness, and that fashionable new dresses and reticules to impress Mr. Darcy simply were not the path to fulfillment—especially when one accrues debt in the process. It’s as true today as it was then . . . Whether you have a fortune or not, you’re well advised to make the most of your income—and save for your future.

Now, using the timeless wisdom and example of Jane Austen’s memorable heroines, this book offers everything the modern lady needs to know about:
*Clever investing
*Keeping up appearances on a budget
*Giving and receiving graciously
*Finding treasures at flea markets and church rummage sales
*Planning a party that only looks extravagant
*And more

Jane Austen’s Guide to Thrift shows how to make your circumstances significantly less reduced, and how to live a life of elegent economy and joyful generosity—whether you’ve as much as Emma Woodhouse or as little as Miss Bates.

Idgie Says:
This book is an interesting way to keep the reader engrossed while passing along very helpful and sensible tips on how to survive financially in today's materialistic world on a smaller budget.  Even if you have the money, the point of this book is, why waste it when you don't have to?

Each chapter and example uses of of the characters from Jane Austen's life.  The thrifty Jane herself, Eleanor Tilney and her budgetary gowns, even the rather unliked but still resourceful Lydia.  She transposes their lives into ideas and ideals that can be used in today's society.

This is definitely a "how to" book, but with a twist. 

While We Were Watching Downton Abbey

While We Were Watching Downton Abbey
Author: Wendy Wax
Publisher: Berkley Trade Paperback
Publication Date: April 2, 2013

Book Description:
When the concierge of the Alexander, a historic Atlanta apartment building, invites his fellow residents to join him for weekly screenings of Downton Abbey, four very different people find themselves connecting with the addictive drama, and—even more unexpectedly—with each other...

Samantha Davis married young and for the wrong reason: the security of old Atlanta money for herself and her orphaned brother and sister. She never expected her marriage to be complicated by love and compromised by a shattering family betrayal.

Claire Walker is now an empty nester and struggling author who left her home in the suburbs for the old-world charm of the Alexander, and for a new and productive life. But she soon wonders if clinging to old dreams can be more destructive than having no dreams at all.

And then there’s Brooke MacKenzie, a woman in constant battle with her faithless ex-husband. She’s just starting to realize that it’s time to take a deep breath and come to terms with the fact that her life is not the fairy tale she thought it would be.

For Samantha, Claire, Brooke, and Edward, who arranges the weekly gatherings, it will be a season of surprises as they forge a bond that will sustain them through some of life’s hardest moments—all of it reflected in the unfolding drama, comedy, and convergent lives of Downton Abbey.

Read an excerpt HERE: 

Idgie Says:
Something I enjoyed about this book is that the characters are generally quite likable.  Often when you read a novel there is on character you like, others you "understand" but you feel no bond toward and a few you just could care less about.  I would love to sit down and join in with these ladies - and Edward - when they have their pizza and wine nights.


The ladies involved in the story all have some issues, but it hasn't left them acidic and bitter towards life - they're still open to new experiences and friends.

They live in fairly posh apartment building (though some live on the very edge of their ability to be there) complete with a concierge service run by the lovely and intelligent Edward.

This story has a simple theme surrounding each woman's issues that they're dealing with.  While trying to solve their own personal problems, at the same time they are finding out that friendship is integral to well-being and provides a strong support system to help deal with life.

The apartment building begins having a Sunday evening Downton Abbey screening where all the ladies show up, eat, drink and bond.  If you enjoy watching that show,  you'll appreciate the little tidbits thrown out from the series - Seasons 1 and 2 only - nothing given away! 

There are also a few fun behind the scenes publishing tidbits included, and I enjoyed how several of Wendy's friend's names appear in the storyline.

This is a nicely told story of friends - making them and then sticking with them. Watch how many Shandies you drink when you're with them though!

 

Wendy’s local events:

March 30 at 5 PM

FoxTale Book Shoppe

105 E. Main Street, #138

Woodstock, GA, 30188

April 1 at 7 PM

Bookmiser

3822 Roswell Rd.

Marietta, GA 30062

April 16 at 6:30 PM

Book Exchange

2956 Canton Road

Marietta, GA 30066

April 25 at 7:30 PM

Meet the Authors Event with Wendy Wax, Claire Cook and Cindy Woodsmall

Gwinnet County Public Library

Norcross Cultural Arts and Community Center

10 College Street

Norcross, GA 30071

Event is free and open to the public.  Click here for more information.

The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow

The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow
Author: Rita Leganski
Sale Date: 2/26/2013
Imprint: Harper Paperbacks
ISBN: 62113763
ISBN 13: 978006211376

Book Description:
Bonaventure Arrow didn’t make a peep when he was born, and the doctor nearly took him for dead. But he was only listening, placing sound inside quiet and gaining his bearings. By the time he is five, he can hear flowers grow, a thousand shades of blue, and the miniature tempests that rage inside raindrops. One day, Bonaventure’s world is shaken by anguished voices he’s never heard before–voices that trace back to a note written by his mother, Dancy, and to a peculiar relic owned by his Grand-mère Letice. When Bonaventure removes the note and the relic from where they’ve been hidden, he opens two doors to the past and finds the key to a web of secrets that both hold his family together, and threaten to tear them apart.  Set against the background of 1950s New Orleans and the fictional town of Bayou Cymbaline, The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is rich with the character of a culture that overflows with conjured charms and sanctified spirits. It takes readers from a gumbo joint on Atchafaylaya Road to a sinister house in New Orleans to the interior of the Arrow family crypt. A magical debut novel about the lost art of listening and a wondrous little boy who brings healing to the souls of all who love him in this story of forgiveness and redemption

Idgie Says:
This novel is filled with mysticism and spirits.   An interesting story that literally jumps back in forth from Bonaventure in the womb, the the youthful history of the grandmother, and her dark secret, to the mind of a killer who slowly forgets why he killed anyone and who he is. 

When Bonaventure's father is killed, not only does he decide to stick around in ghost form and watch over Bonaventure, but something mystical happened in the universe and Bonaventure lost the ability to speak but gained super acute hearing (and eventually he can hear more than just voices) at that same moment his father died. 

Most people only see a mute little boy during the years that follow, but certain people come to realize how special he is.

The characters in the book all receive deep back stories, explaining how they became who they are and where it all leads to the future.  In other words, every action has a reaction in life, whether it's noticed immediately or not.

Miss Julia to the Rescue

Originally Reviewed is Spring 2012, now republished in Paperback by Penguin - March 26, 2013
ISBN: 978-0-14-312281-4

___________________________________

Miss Julia to the Rescue
Author: Ann B. Ross
Hardcover: 320 pages
Publisher: Viking Adult (April 3, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0670023388
ISBN-13: 978-0670023387

Product Description:
To take her mind off the fact that Lloyd is about to move out and Sam is off on a Holy Land tour, Miss Julia undertakes to remodel and redecorate her house.  But before she can even pick a color scheme, J.D. Pickens, P.I. goes missing while on his latest investigative job.  And an injured man fitting his description is being detained in West Virgina.  With Etta Mae in tow, Miss Julia must race to his rescue, tangling in the process with a backwoods, snake-handling sheriff.

Back in Abbotsville, wealthy eccentric Agnes Whitman has returned to town with a following of misfits who are intent, it seems, in converting the naïve young carpenter who works for Julia.  She, however, is equally intent on keeping him out of the clutches of people who are covered with tattoos and pierced with pins, bolts and screws from one end to the other.

Miss Julia is one lady who won't waste time watching paint dry--no matter what shade of beige is the latest rage.

Idgie Says:
This is the fourth Miss Julia book that the Dew has reviewed and the 12th in the series. 

By now, if you're following the books, you know the towns people, their eccentricities and their hidden issues.  You know Miss Julia can't keep her nose out of anything, but people all love her regardless.

If her husband has learned any lesson at all, it should have been never to go out of town and leave Miss Julia twiddling her thumbs with time on her hands.  But apparently he hasn't caught on to this yet. So in this book in the series, Miss Julia is caught up in a private investigator's arrest while doing work for a friend, a "jail break" from a hospital and a possible religious cult moving into town.  All in a day's work for Miss Julia.

Nice wholesome books with just enough wackiness to give them a kick.

My Retirement Account

My Retirement Account

By

Nancy Strickland Hawkins

I'm so mad.  I just entered my Desiree in another  pageant – this is a big one.  My snotty sister, the one with the big brain and the college degree, says beauty pageants for children are child abuse.  I couldn't believe it. We had a screaming match over the phone.

“Child abuse?" I said. Why that’s crazy!  I just want Desiree to have what I ain't never had.  That's sure not child abuse.”

“Mary, putting a four-year-old child in makeup—and torturing her, making her stand under those hot lights, just because you want her to." “Desiree loves pageants!  She just lights up when she goes on stage!”

Louise made that snorting sound she does when she thinks I've said something stupid again. “Have you asked her opinion?  I’ll bet she gets tired of all that practicing and prancing around in front of a bunch of creepy old men who get their kicks from—"                      

    

"Now you listen here, Louise,"  I said. "You just quit actin' so superior.  I only put Desiree in natural pageants.  No makeup.”

“Then why is she made up in the pictures?”

“Maybe just a touch – some lipstick, some mascara – “

“And that flipper thing you put in her mouth to hide the fact that she's lost a tooth.  She's four!  She's lost a tooth! But we have to make it look like she has all her teeth. We can't have a snaggle-tooth child on stage. That would be too  natural.”

 That damn flipper had cost me a lot of money.   I missed two car payments trying to pay for it, and still had to break down and ask Mama for a loan.  I told her it was for the rent on my trailer since Justin hadn’t be been paying child support no more. (That part was true).

When she said that, I slammed down the phone as hard as I could.  I ain’t talked to Louise since, and I won’t until she apologizes or one of us is dead, which will probably happen first.

  Louise has always been bossy because she’s the oldest. She thinks her shit don't stink because she's smart.  I'm not as smart as Louise, and my brother Kent ain't neither, but so what?  I dropped out of school when I got pregnant, and Kent was expelled.  He's in jail now, for writin’ bad checks. Mama says Kent went bad because he didn’t have no father.  I think he’s just made that way.  When we was little I had to keep my purse hid if I had any money, or it would just vanish.  I know it was him that took it.  And when I accused him of it, he’d just lie and lie. He's too lazy to work, but he’s always wanted a fancy car, fancy clothes, you know-so he can get a flashy, trashy girlfriend.  He always said he wasn't gonna live in this damn trailer all his life.  Well, he ain't livin' here no more.  He's a guest of the county.

He swears he didn't do it, and he  wanted to borrow money to pay for a lawyer.  "These lawyers you get for free," he said, "ain't no good." I told him no.  I didn’t give a reason, and he cussed me out.  I need money for Desiree's career.  Now that she's in a fancy pageant,  I need to get her a pageant coach.  Her first pageant, the Beautiful Baby pageant – only cost thirty dollars to enter.  These big-time pageants cost hundreds of dollars.  And it's hard to come up with the money.  I ain't gonna get rich working at the Get 'n' Go. And that bastard boss of mine, Harley, is so cheap he won’t give me a raise, even though I’ve been working for him for twelve years, standing behind that counter, waiting on those mean drunks and hearing all those pick-up lines, or what those losers call pick-up lines.  “When do you get off, honey?”  Then they grin.  I don't get off soon enough to suit me, I say, but I’m thinking When I do get off, I ain't gonna waste my time with a loser like you. I almost said it out loud once. So far I ain't said that to anybody.  Harley'd fire me, and there ain't a lot of jobs around here for somebody who quit high school.  I mean, what could I do?  I was pregnant, and throwin' up all over the place, and I never did good in school anyway.  So I just went home to have my baby.

When she was born and I wanted to name her Desiree, my mama about had a fit.  She said it sounded like a two-bit whore.  She named me Mary, for the mother of Christ, of course.  See, my mom is real religious. She goes to Mass every day.  I’m not religious anymore, myself, once I got old enough to tell Mama I wouldn't go to church no more.  Mama says I’m goin’ to hell.  So be it. I'll have plenty of company down there.

          I said I was gonna give my baby a pretty name, not a plain name like mine. I think Desiree will be the girl I could have been, if I'd had the chance.  I always wanted to be a star, you know.  I wanted to wear sexy clothes and have everyone adore me.  Mama wouldn’t hear of it.   She wouldn’t even let me be a majorette at school because she said their costumes weren’t modest.  Hell, I didn’t want to be modest. Modest ain't no fun.

          So I’ve given Desiree everything. Many a time I’ve gone without to buy her those pageant dresses and outfits.   Levi, her father, is the world's biggest loser.  He wouldn't marry me, and it's just as well.  Now I can raise my child like I want to.  He wouldn't want me spending money on pageants.  He'd rather drink it up.

Desiree's had all them lessons – dance, voice, gymnastics, whatever I can get for her.  It’s paid off, too.  Desiree has won ten pageants now; we’re out of the small-town stuff.  

My Desiree loves the pageants, but she gets tired of practicing.  She practices for two hours every day on modeling, dancing, whatever she needs to win the crown.  Sometimes she gets fussy about rehearsing, but I won’t let her get away with slacking off.  My snotty sister just don’t get it;  Desiree is learning to stick with something until it’s done.  She’s learning to go after her dreams.  She's going to be Miss America.  She's going to take care of her mama someday.  I think of it as a what-cha-call-it, an investment. 

End

Life after Life

Life After Life
Author: Jill McCorkle
Hardcover: 352 pages
Publisher: A Shannon Ravenel Book (Algonquin)
Publication Date: March 26, 2013
ISBN-10: 1565122550
ISBN-13: 978-1565122550

Book Description:
Jill McCorkle’s first novel in seventeen years is alive with the daily triumphs and challenges of the residents and staff of Pine Haven Estates, a retirement facility now home to a good many of Fulton, North Carolina’s older citizens. Among them, third-grade teacher Sadie Randolph, who has taught every child in town and believes we are all eight years old in our hearts; Stanley Stone, once Fulton’s most prominent lawyer, now feigning dementia to escape life with his son; Marge Walker, the town’s self-appointed conveyor of social status who keeps a scrapbook of every local murder and heinous crime; and Rachel Silverman, recently widowed, whose decision to leave her Massachusetts home and settle in Fulton is a mystery to everyone but her.  C.J., the pierced and tattooed young mother who runs the beauty shop, and Joanna, the hospice volunteer who discovers that her path to a good life lies with helping folks achieve good deaths, are two of the staff on whom the residents depend.

Idgie Says:  
A book chock full of characters.  Each chapter is a different one, though of course there are repeating ones.  It starts with Joanna, who works at the retirement home and begins to keep a journal while there.  Various chapters are journal entries after someone has died, describing them and what Joanne knew about their lives.  So I would describe this book as being filled with little vignettes of lives - some sad, some happy, how they ended up in the a retirement home, others that make you think, "what if it was me?"

I would call this an emotional book that might make you ponder your current life a bit more and where it might be heading in the future. 

Why He Couldn't Forget

WHY HE COULDN’T FORGET

by: Robert G. Cowser

Tom Courson remembered well the weekend just before his nineteenth birthday  when his parents helped his sister find a doctor who would perform an abortion.  Though the events had occurred more than thirty years before, Tom could recall vividly certain emotions he had experienced.  As he grew older, he found himself remembering the events of that weekend more often than he had earlier.  If he had married, if he had fathered a child, perhaps he would not have recalled the events with such sadness.

            Tom’s parents had no telephone service.  Earlier in the week his sister Ramona wrote a note to them announcing that she would be arriving Friday evening on the Greyhound bus.  She made no reference to her husband, nor did she give a reason for the impromptu visit.

            Tom had spent the summer at home after having attended the teachers’ college thirty miles away the previous year.  He was biding his time until the fall term began.  His father had recently moved a small shotgun house on to the property and had converted it into a barn.  He attached a lean-to to the building, and he planned to store hay in the two rooms of the house.  Tom spent many hours that summer sitting on the floor of one of the rooms.  He read several plays in the Shakespeare volume that he used as his textbook the year before.. 

Late Friday afternoon his father said to Tom, “Why don’t you ride with me to the bus stop?  You remember that Ramona is comin’ in on the bus, don’t you?”

            “Sure, I’ll go along,” Tom said.

            The bus was only twenty minutes late in arriving.  Tom’s father had time to chat with a few men who had stayed in town later than usual.  They liked to plant themselves in front of Bill’s Grocery, squatting Indian fashion or sitting on upturned Coca-Cola crates.  Tom sat in the car and watched the trucks and cars moving along the highway that bisected the little town of Dillon.

            Ramona was the only passenger getting off the bus that particular day.  She looked preoccupied, Tom thought, as she handed her father the overnight kit.  Her brown hair was pulled back from her face, and there were beads of perspiration on her brow.  Tom knew that at times the air-conditioning system on the buses did not work well.

            Dillon was at the top of a strip of prairie land that lay across the state of Texas like a crescent.  As they drove the four miles to the Coursons’ house, Tom looked at the familiar fields on either side of the road.  Already, some of the cotton stalks were beginning to drop their leaves.  The harvest would begin soon.  Crews of pickers would enter the fields each morning as soon as the dew on the bolls had dried.

            With one hand casually steering the wheel, Mr. Courson waved the other toward the fields.  “Cotton’s good this year.  Thrives on hot, dry weather because the weevils ain’t as thick as they are when it’s rainy.  Corn crops is burnt up, though.”

 “It’s sure been hot this summer in Dallas.  We’ve been usin’ the fan a lot in that upstairs apartment,” Ramona said.

            Neither Tom nor Mr. Courson asked about Harvey, Ramona’s second husband.  He was an alcoholic; he missed work on the average of a couple of days a week.  Probably he would have already been fired except that when he was sober, he was the best employee the freight company had at operating the Comptometer.

            When they arrived at the farmhouse, Ramona washed her face and hands with water from the basin at the kitchen sink.  Then she began to help her mother set the table for the evening meal.  Tom went to the shallow pool beside the barn, taking a bucket with him.  He filled the bucket with the murky water and took it to the calf lot adjacent to the barn.  He wondered how long it would be before the pool level became so low that he would have to draw water from the well near the house and carry bucket after bucket to the trough where the two half-grown calves drank.  The calves had reddish coats with white faces.

            As he opened the door leading to the back porch, he heard his mother and Ramona in animated conversation.  Mr. Courson was listening to the evening news on the radio in the living room.  “We’ll see about helpin’ you git a abortion,” Tom’s mother said.

            Then when Tom walked into the kitchen, the conversation between Ramona and her mother stopped abruptly.  Mrs. Courson announced supper, and the family ate.  In between short trips from her chair at the table to the kitchen stove in order

to get hot bread or more rutabaga turnips, she told Ramona about the births and deaths, the separations and the marriages that had taken place in Dillon since Ramona had visited.

            After supper, Tom read the entertainment section of that day’s Dallas Morning News, the newspaper Ramona brought with her.  He noticed that a musical version of The Taming of the Shrew  was scheduled for the first week in September at the State Fair Park Auditorium.  He would like to see the production, but he could not afford the price of a ticket or bus fare to Dallas. He remembered well the play he had read for his course the previous semester.

Just before bedtime Ramona took the flashlight from the kitchen counter.  She said that she was going to the privy, located a few yards behind the house.  When she returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, she took a match from the metal match holder on the wall in order to light the cigarette she was holding.  Turning to walk into the spare room where she would sleep, she called over her shoulder, “I can’t have this baby.  I’ve got to make a livin’.”  His parents and Tom already knew that Ramona’s husband was not a reliable provider.

Tom was disappointed that his parents supported Ramona’s plan to get an abortion.  However, he was resigned to the fact that they probably could find a local physician willing to perform the abortion.  He knew that certain local women had been successful in doing so.

            Two years before Tom had  been told that during the previous school year one of his former high school teachers had gone to a clinic in the town where the teachers’ college was located.  Supposedly the surgeon there performed an appendectomy on the teacher, though reports from some of the high school students were that she had gone to the hospital for an abortion.  Rumors circulated that one of the boys in the eleventh grade fathered the child.

            The next morning Tom went to the barn.  If Ramona and his mother wanted to talk privately, then he would leave them free to do so.  After he had watered the two calves in the pen, he went into the front room.  In a trunk he found some of the essays he had written the year before in his composition class.  He sat on the floor and read them.  Then he picked up the Shakespeare volume in order to resume reading Henry IV, Part I.  His mother had told them that she planned an early lunch, so after he had finished reading a few more pages of the play, he returned to the house.

            Tom’s parents and Ramona hardly talked at lunch.  Tom ate quickly so that his mother could clear the table.  He noticed that she was wearing one of the chambray dresses she wore only when she was going to church or to shop in the county seat.  Ramona ate hurriedly and then went to the room where she had slept.  Tom heard her rummaging through the overnight kit that she had brought with her.  He decided to return to the barn where he had spent the morning.  He did not want to be at the house when his parents and Ramona left.

            While standing behind the barn, he heard the engine of his father’s car and then the sound of the wheels on the pavement as his father drove the car north toward the main highway.  They would drive first to the county seat where Dr. Shrode lived.  Years before he had treated Ramona when she had almost died of diphtheria.  While the women sat in the car under the shade of one of the tall elms that lined the street where Dr. Shrode lived, Tom’s father would go inside.  He would plead with Dr. Shrode to perform an abortion on Ramona.

                        *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            After his parents died, Tom took a teaching job in a high school in the Panhandle of  Florida.  He rented an apartment in Pensacola and commuted to the school where he taught.  Ramona divorced Harvey soon after she had the abortion.  She worked for several years at minimum-wage jobs in Dallas.  Eventually she returned to the farm house in Dillon where she spent her last days.  She died alone of congestive heart disease one summer afternoon.

            As he sat in the darkening room, Tom remembered how he resented that Ramona had come to his parents for help in getting an abortion.  If she had remained in Dallas, he would never have had to deal directly with the fact of her decision.  He might have considered that Harvey forced her to get the abortion.

            Once more, Tom’s mind returned to that Saturday afternoon when Ramona and his parents drove away.   Since the calves were particularly thirsty that day, Tom had gone to the pond for several pails of water.  In between two of the trips he scratched the top of one calf’s neck and the ridge at the top of its head.  He also touched the calf’s nose and noticed how cool and moist the tip of the nose felt, even though it was a hot day. 

        Perhaps thinking of the calf’s thirst  made Tom acutely aware that his throat felt particularly dry.  He stood up and walked the few paces to the sink so that he could fill a glass with tap water.  He drank the tepid water and then walked to the shower in preparation for going to a restaurant nearby.  Though he would be sitting alone in a booth or at a table, dining in a busy restaurant would be a welcomed change from eating in his apartment.

            Over the years, Tom gradually realized that the man or woman who would have developed from that fetus that was aborted would probably still be alive somewhere on the planet.  He or she might have fathered or borne a child, possibly several.  The bond of family between Tom and each member of this imaginary group would have been important to him.

            As Tom closed the front door behind him and stepped out on the balcony on his way to the stairs that led to the parking lot, he heard the sounds of children at play.  Looking toward the swing set and the sandbox near the complex, he saw a boy and a girl, each approximately five years old.  He heard intermittent shouts of glee from one and then the other.  The spontaneous laughter was in sharp contrast to the continuous hum of the refrigerator’s motor he had heard while in the apartment.

            When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Tom glanced in the direction of the apartment building facing his.  He saw a girl running from the stairs leading to the second floor of that building.  The girl’s hair was cut short in the same style Tom had seen his sister Ramona wearing in a photograph taken of her when she was in elementary school.  After he began walking toward his car, he heard the girl laughing.  Turning his head, Tom saw again the boy and the other girl he had noticed earlier at the swing set.  The two were pumping their swings in sweeping arcs as Tom automatically felt inside his pocket for the key to the ignition.  
___________________
Bio:
Robert Cowser is a native of Texas who now lives in Martin, TN.  He writes memoirs, poetry, and fiction. His  chapbook Selected Poems 1985-2010, 2nd Ed was recently published by The University of Tennessee at Martin.  His poems have appeared recently in English Journal and The Distillery, and an essay in The Chiron Review.

The Drunken Botanist

The Drunken Botanist
The Plants That Create the World's Great Drinks
Author: Amy Stewart
Algonquin Books • March 19, 2013

Book Description:
Sake began with a grain of rice. Scotch emerged from barley, tequila from agave, rum from sugarcane, bourbon from corn. Thirsty yet?  In The Drunken Botanist, Amy Stewart explores the dizzying array of herbs, flowers, trees, fruits, and fungi that humans have, through ingenuity, inspiration, and sheer desperation, contrived to transform into alcohol.

Of all the extraordinary and obscure plants that have been fermented and distilled, a few are dangerous, some are downright bizarre, and one is as ancient as dinosaurs--but each represents a unique cultural contribution to our global drinking traditions and our history.

This fascinating concoction of biology, chemistry, history, etymology, and mixology--with more than fifty drink recipes and growing tips for gardeners--will make you the most popular guest at any cocktail party.

Idgie Says:
First off I will say that this is a beautiful book - well bound with "old school" quality paper used.  It makes it a pleasure to the senses just to flip through the book itself before reading.  For a person who refuses to cave to the eBook craze, this book is an extra-sensory treat! 

After getting my fill of page flipping and smelling :), I then dove into some fascinating historical facts about plants, brewing, medicinal uses and traditional celebratory drinks. 

I have discovered you can make a cocktail out of anything!  From Parsnips to Buffalo Grass, there's a way to turn it into alcohol.  A most excellent book for a home brewer.....or survivalist.  

Now, I'm off to make myself a drink out of ingredients I can find in my backyard.  I haven't yet decided between a Moscow Mule or  a Frank Meyer Expedition.  Perhaps an Elderflower Cordial...............

Yes, another bonus - lots of drink recipes!

If you enjoy playing bartender, this would be a really fun book for your collection.

The Cove

The Cove
Author Ron Rash
Publisher: Ecco Books/Harper Collins
Publication Date: February 2013
ISBN: 978-0--06-180419-9


Book Description:

The New York Times bestselling author of Serena returns to Appalachia, this time at the height of World War I, with the story of a blazing but doomed love affair caught in the turmoil of a nation at war.

Deep in the rugged Appalachians of North Carolina lies the cove, a dark, forbidding place where spirits and fetches wander, and even the light fears to travel. Or so the townsfolk of Mars Hill believe–just as they know that Laurel Shelton, the lonely young woman who lives within its shadows, is a witch. Alone except for her brother, Hank, newly returned from the trenches of France, she aches for her life to begin.

Then it happens–a stranger appears, carrying nothing but a beautiful silver flute and a note explaining that his name is Walter, he is mute, and is bound for New York. Laurel finds him in the woods, nearly stung to death by yellow jackets, and nurses him back to health. As the days pass, Walter slips easily into life in the cove and into Laurel's heart, bringing her the only real happiness she has ever known.

But Walter harbors a secret that could destroy everything–and danger is closer than they know. Though the war in Europe is near its end, patriotic fervor flourishes thanks to the likes of Chauncey Feith, an ambitious young army recruiter who stokes fear and outrage throughout the county. In a time of uncertainty, when fear and ignorance reign, Laurel and Walter will discover that love may not be enough to protect them.

Idgie Says:

Ron could simply write words about rocks and he would make the sentences flow and ripple through the pages and your mind's eye.  He has such a talent for taking a simple event and making you feel like you're in the very center of it all.  

He spends an amazing amount of time on detail and research, so if he describes a scene where an action is performed - you know that's exactly how it should be. 

This is a great story that grips from the start.........and shocks with the ending.  

The description above tells enough about the story to know if it would interest the reader, and I don't want to give away plot, but it's enough to know that it's a Ron Rash story.  You don't need more than that to want to grab a copy immediately

PS - Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence will be a romantic team once again - this time in the film adaptation of Serena!

Read an excerpt HERE.

Murder & Mayhem in Goose Pimple Junction

Murder & Mayhem in Goose Pimple Junction
Author: Amy Metz
Paperback: 284 pages
Publisher: Iconic Publishing, LLC (August 5, 2012)
Language: English ISBN-10: 0985138874
ISBN-13: 978-0985138875

Book Description: 
In 1932, John Hobb, father of four, is a witness to a bank robbery. He identifies the robbers and testifies against them. They are later pardoned by the governor.

In 1935, Hobb is found in his idling car by the side of the road, dead from a gunshot wound to the head. The circumstances surrounding his death are a mystery, and the killer is unknown.

 In 2010, John Hobb's murder is still unsolved when Tess Tremaine moves into his former house. She finds a job at the local bookstore, which is owned by Lou Stafford, the youngest daughter of John Hobb. During renovations to the old house, Tess finds a mysterious old key, labeled "trunk." Mayhem ensues when she attempts to find the owner of the key: Her house is broken into twice, but nothing is taken; she finds cigarette butts and footprints outside a bedroom window; she gets threatening phone calls and ominous messages in the mail; she and a friend are attacked on the street. All of this has the opposite reaction than was intended---it doesn't scare her away, it strengthens her resolve to find John Hobb's murderer.

Idgie Says: 
This is a cute story with likeable characters set in a warm and welcoming small Southern town.    You want to shop at their stores and eat in their diner.  I would love to be able to walk my dog through downtown and enjoy the friendliness.  I used to live in a little town like this and it did indeed make me miss it.

There is a mystery revolving around the house that Tess moves into, secrets that need to remain hidden and things that need to be found.  The story pops back and forth between the 1930s and 2010.  Poor Tess is barely settled in when the house is trashed, people are spying across the street and peering into her windows.  She refuses to back down, and slowly, with the help of a handsome, well-known and successful author who just happens to live in town, mysteries are uncovered.  Along the way love also begins to sparkle and twinkle between these two.  There's a nice background story here also wherein Tess has successfully published a children's book and is trying to transition into adult romance.  Throwing in author angst is a good hook, a lot of people enjoy the "behind the scenes" action of an author becoming published.

The only small bothersome thing that I will say about the story is that the author makes a great deal about the fact that Tess has to learn the "Southern Language" and often requires interpretation from others as to what words came out of of someone's mouth.  While meaning no harm, after a while it can get tiring to constantly be reminded that Tess feels Southerners are so hard to understand. But that is just a Southerner's thoughts - someone from another part of the country probably wouldn't give it a second thought.

The Cowboy and the Little Man

The Cowboy and the Little Man

Last Saturday in a big and crowded mall shopping mart
I met a remarkable young boy riding in his mother’s cart.
About five, he looked like a little man, neat, sharp and alert,
Wearing a regimental tie and pressed white button down shirt.

Politely, solidly  he spoke, man to man“ I like your cowboy hat.”
I  told  him I liked his style;  he smiled and thanked me for that.
I turned to speak to his mother but she glared and jerked away
Telling me more with her eyes than she was ever willing to say.

He didn’t say but I could tell he liked my clean  but worn boots.
We wanted to talk but mama wanted me gone to other pursuits
So I said adios and winked at him because I had nothing to lose.
I bumped into them again while they were trying on new shoes.

With smiles we passed silent hellos as his mother pinched his toes.
He looked me over and said “Mama, can I have some cowboy clothes?”
I smiled, then looked away as she leveled a withering glare on me.
“Lord no, Billy,” she scolded,  “people will laugh at what they see“.

It hurt me to hear the little man’s pleading words when he said
“But, Mama, he’s neat and clean like the cowboy above my bed.”
“That cowboy was all Hollywood,” she said, “And a long time gone.
“It’s silly and foolish, son, to believe in a man called Hopalong.”

The little man’s mouth twisted down as a wad of tear touched an eye.
“But he’s a real cowboy, Mama, please ask him, I know he won’t lie.”
“Mam,” I cut in, “please give me a few minutes to help you understand
That being a cowboy is more than pretty songs about the Rio Grande.”

She threw a glare on me to beat that of an old raging  rank red eyed bull.
“Well, go ahead if you must,” she snapped, her patience bucket near full.
The little man looked at me and I saw a love you just don’t see anymore,
Lord, I prayed, help this old cowboy say the words Billy is hoping for.

“A cowboy loves his life, and he has to be open , honest, and free.
He respects all lives ,the people, the animals, all the critters we see.
He works hard and he believes in his country, and he knows God is real.
He does not cheat, he does not lie, he does not covet, he does not steal.

The two people he loves with all his heart are his Mom and  his Dad
Because he knows they worked hard to give him what they never had.


Your boy’s a good little man, Mam, I can see by his grit and cut
That, cowboy or not, he’ll make a top notch man I feel in my gut.
You see, Mam, like I was saying being a cowboy is a way of living
That leans more toward being yourself, being kind and forgiving.

Mam, it is true that I talk too much, please forgive me if you can
You‘ve got things to do, it’s that I took a liking to your little man.
Excuse me, Mam, good day to you, I’d better let you be on your way.
Adios to you little man, listen to mama, and have a nice cowboy day.

As I  stood in line to leave, pressed by the crowd, I felt eyes on me.
Somehow I knew whose they were but the face I couldn’t hardly see.
I tried hard and I shook it off wanting desperately to be out of doors,
I was weary of stuffy, smelly places, closeness, and crowded stores.

At the door I tried not to look back but the feeling was too strong.
I glanced and there he was the little man on the edge of the throng.
I winked, smiled, and tossed him a big wave and he really liked that.
He smiled big then rolled his eyes up proudly at his new cowboy hat.


McQueen Hamilton Dillahey
Silver Valley, North Carolina