Last weekend, our daughter Shannon, her husband Mike, and their dog Holly were supposed to come to our home for the weekend—they live in the Boston area—to celebrate my birthday (September 15) and Clif’s birthday (September 27). Alas, they were having car troubles and couldn’t come.

Disappointing not to have them join us, that’s for sure. Because Shannon and Mike aren’t sure when their car troubles will be resolved, our eldest daughter Dee, who lives with us, decided to carry on with the birthday celebrations. She treated us to Chinese food at the utterly delightful Wei Li in Auburn.

Oh my, the food was good. I could have some of their delicious lo mein and general tofu right now.

Comfortably full, we headed back home for drinks on the patio in the screen house, cake and ice cream, and presents.

Among other things, Dee bought us solar lights for the backyard. Now that we have passed the autumnal equinox, it is dark by 7:00, and it’s a little tricky making our way to the front steps.

Not only do those solar lights have a magical glow, but they also give us enough light for navigation.

This upcoming weekend is Clif’s actual birthday, and there just might be some more simple pleasures planned. (Simple pleasures are Clif’s and my birthday presents to each other. )

More to look forward to.

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Reading: The Millstone by Margaret Drabble

I have a fondness for mid-twentieth century women writers, especially ones who come from the United Kingdom. When I was in my 30s, I started with Rumer Godden, went on to read Barbara Pym, and have continued on with other terrific writers who, with precision and heart, have chronicled the changing roles of women in the twentieth century. And my goodness, there have been changes, mostly for the best.

To my delight, I have found a blog—JacquiWine’s Journal––that often features reviews of women writers from that period, and I have gotten many recommendations from Jacqui.

One of them was the wonderful novel The Millstone by Margaret Drabble. (The link above is to Jacqui’s review of the book.) Set in in the 1960s, The Millstone centers on Rosamund Stacey, a young woman living in London in her parent’s fashionable apartment in Marylebone. Her parents, do-gooders of the highest order, are in Africa trying to do good, which means that Rosamund has a free place to live as she finishes her thesis, not a bad situation for a young woman in the swinging 60s.

The only problem is that Rosamund is so shy and reticent that she has a hard time swinging. She goes out with a couple of men, but doesn’t have sex with either of them, and they, in turn, think she is having sex with the other man.

But then she meets George, whom she thinks could be gay. (Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t.  In the case of George, Rosamund might not be a reliable narrator.) They make love once and seem to have real affection for each other, but George, as shy and reticent as Rosamund, is no more able to express himself than she is.

From that one encounter, Rosamund becomes pregnant and after considering abortion, illegal at that time, she decides to keep the baby. Being middle class and college educated, Rosamund feels that she can make it on her own, and although she longs for George, she doesn’t tell him about the pregnancy.

As it turns out, Rosamund can make it on her own. She has the baby, a girl she names Octavia, after the social reformer Octavia Hill. As soon as Rosamund sees Octavia, she falls totally in love with her infant daughter. (I remember feeling the same way when I first looked at my babies.) I found this expression of maternal love to be so moving, and Drabble’s writing, understated but warm, never veers into sentimentality.

This slim novel packs in so much: class, the changing mores of the 1960s, the bond between mother and child, a young woman’s journey into adulthood, and the United Kingdom’s National Health Service, still relatively new when the book was written.

Will Rosamund and George ever get together? No spoilers here.  You must read this fine book for yourself to find out.

This post is part of a series called Thankful Thursday, where I list some things to feel thankful for. To some extent, focusing on what is wrong appears to come naturally to most people, who often complain, complain, complain when they get together with family and friends. (I’m no exception, that’s for sure.) So focusing on things to feel thankful for seems like good spiritual practice, a way to counterbalance the tendency toward negative thinking.

Mexican Food

After going to see the movie Sing Sing, which I wrote about on Monday’s post,  Clif, Dee, our friend Joel, and I headed to Buen Apetito for Mexican Food. Along with the tasty food, one of the things I really like about Buen Apetito is how willing they are to let customers split a dish. Not only does this save money, but it also allows better portion control. While some things can be taken home for later, what we like to order doesn’t make for good leftovers.

And what did we order? Buen Apetito’s delicious potato flautases, which are shells stuffed with mashed potatoes and fried until crisp. I suppose day-old potato flautases might be worth reheating, but Clif and I prefer them hot from Buen Apetito’s kitchen.

Over dinner we talked about Sing Sing and other movies we might be interested in. We also talked about politics and did our best to solve the world’s problem. As usual, we fell far short of the mark, but nonetheless, we try.

Corn, Corn, Corn

I know, I know. I’ve listed corn in a previous post, but I just can’t help featuring corn again. Yesterday we received eight ears from our own Farmer Kev, and my oh my they were good. Soon, the corn will be done for the season, but until then, we rejoice in those sweet ears slathered with salt and butter.

The Return of Interlibrary Loan

I’ve saved the best for last. Maine has a terrific interlibrary loan system where participating libraries can freely order requested books they don’t have from other libraries. We have a lovely but small library with both a limited budget, limited space, and thus a limited collection. For someone who is an eclectic reader who, say, particularly likes mid-twentieth century British women writers, interlibrary loan is a godsend. I go online, see if the book is available at other libraries—often it is—and order it. The book is then shipped directly to my library.

But a terrible thing happened at the beginning of summer. The interlibrary loan system, run by the Maine State Library, was temporarily suspended. Most of the routes are run by vans that are hired from a private company. Every few years, the Maine State Library has to get bids for this service, and this year they chose a different service that no doubt charged less. The incumbent company decided to appeal the decision and this shut down the interlibrary loan service until the court made its decision.

Readers, I am not one to complain, but I have to admit it was a dark three months without interlibrary loan. No longer did I have the larger world of books open to me, available with the click of a mouse. My only consolation was that I knew this interruption of service was temporary and that eventually the system would be up and running.

That happy day came on Thursday, and giddy with relief, I promptly ordered seven books not available at our library.

“Greedy,” Dee observed when I told her how many books I had ordered.

Guilty as charged. When it comes to books, I am indeed greedy.

Thankful Posts on Other Blogs

Cimple celebrates the return of fall and cool weather.

Debbie, from Musings by an ND Domer’s Mom, also celebrates cooler weather.

Ju-Lyn, of Touring My Backyard, writes, “With each sunrise, I give thanks for another day of possibilities.”

Barbara, of Thistles and Kiwis, features food, glorious food, some eaten at restaurants, some she cooked herself.

Carol Ann, of Fashioned for Joy, shares a week of delights, ranging from tea and scones at a tea house in Virginia to trips to a museum.