Favorite Books of 2024

Happy New Year, Friends!

I chose the painting above to illustrate this post because it perfectly captures the sort of reading year 2024 was for me; in a word, distracted. While I read roughly as many books as usual (about 30, give or take), most of those were concentrated in the early months of the year. In August, I went back to work teaching full time at a school an hour’s drive away, and my reading dropped off precipitously. Nevertheless, I wanted to share some of my favorites here.

Favorite Fiction

Laurus by Eugene Vodolazkin

This is a novel so sweeping that I can’t begin to summarize it. It’s the story of a remarkable life, in the spirit of, say David Copperfield, Kristin Lavransdatter, or Les Miserables, but it’s particular in its medieval Russian setting. Love, grace, and atonement are all themes. I definitely want to read more by Vodolazkin.

Tom Lake by Ann Patchett

I inhaled this book at a lake in New Hampshire at the end of the summer, which was just about the perfect time and place to read it. A much easier read than Laurus, but no less stirring in its themes of motherhood, regret, and the stories we tell our children.

Favorite Nonfiction

The Comfort of Crows by Margaret Renkl

A friend from Nashville sent me this book from Ann Patchett’s Parnassus Books, so I was bound to love it from the start! I’d recommend reading Renkl’s reflections on the life she observes in her backyard throughout the seasons slowly; I read one chapter a week for the entire year so that I was actually living each season Renkl describes in such loving and beautiful detail.

The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt

This book is an unflinching look at what we already know but would prefer to ignore: That the advent of smartphones and social media is rewiring our children’s minds and leading to increased anxiety and isolation. It’s such an important read for any parent or educator, but it’s also hopeful and practical.

Favorite Religious/Spiritual Books

Reasons to Believe by Scott Hahn

One of the most important (and unexpected!) things that happened in our family this year was that we joined the Catholic Church. That’s a long and complicated story that deserves its own post at some point. But it involved a LOT of reading, and this clear and cogent book by Scott Hahn played a major role in my own journey. (Thank you, Chelsey!)

The Reed of God by Caryll Houselander

The sleeper hit of my year! The Reed of God showed up in the blog of an Anglican author I follow, as a recommended Advent read. I thought I’d read all the Advent books there were, so I was intrigued. It turned out to be classic reflection on the attributes of Mary, and what they have to tell us about our relation to God. Now I hope to read it annually at Advent.

Favorite Children’s/Young Adult Books

As a parent of five and now as a 4th grade language/literature teacher, most of the books I read fall into this category — and they’re usually my favorites. This year was no exception.

Everything Sad Is Untrue by Daniel Nayeri

This was a favorite for me and for the two teenagers in our house who also read it this year. Nayeri’s gorgeously written memoir of his family, their flight from Iran, and his early years in the United States continues to provide some helpful perspective for our privileged children (as in, “Okay, but did you have to flee home with only one stuffed animal, which you then had to leave behind anyway??”)

The Eyes and the Impossible by Dave Eggers

If you have seen me this fall, you have heard about this remarkable book! To say that it’s a story of love, courage, and perseverance told from the viewpoint of a stray dog in Golden Gate Park doesn’t even begin to capture its power and beauty. My daughter and I listened to the audiobook version, performed impeccably by Ethan Hawke, which I’d recommend over reading the physical book — a first for me, but I can’t imagine experiencing it any other way.

That concludes this year’s list! What have YOU been reading and loving lately?

Looking Backward, Moving Onward

A couple of weeks ago, I spent the afternoon cleaning out the basement. Our basement is unfinished, cement floors and exposed beams, and it has become a repository of everything that we want out of sight.

We keep the off-season holiday decorations in the basement. Some toys that aren’t currently being played with but that may rotate back upstairs when our youngest child is older. Many bins of clothes that are either off-season or waiting for various children to grow into them. A couple of survivalist shelves filled with nonperishable food and medications; a reminder of our COVID days. Our cat’s food, litter box, and bed are in the basement. And, until a couple of weeks ago, there were piles of files.

These files were filled with school books and papers dating back to 2016, when our oldest daughter was 8, our youngest daughter was two, and our son was not yet born. In 2016 we began homeschooling our children while on sabbatical in California, and we kept homeschooling after we returned to Vermont: first two children, then three, then four.

In 2021 we began to stop homeschooling our children: first two children, then three, and after this school year there will be none.

Click here to continue reading this week’s “Faith in Vermont” column in The Addison Independent.

Beautiful Things: Haymaker Bun

The other day, an online newsletter to which I subscribe included a link to a blog post titled, “Eleven Adventures with my Teenage Girl.” Because I have more than one teenage girl, I clicked the link with interest – and immediately regretted it. This amazing mother wasn’t kidding when she called them “adventures:” She went hiking, rock climbing, and kayaking with her daughter. They took classes in leather bookbinding and aerial gymnastics, and went on a ghost walk.

In contrast, I consider it an “adventure” when I leave the house to do anything with my kids other than driving them to and from their various activities. And my adventure of choice has nothing to do with hiking trails, rock faces, or trapezes, although those things sound like fun and active things a mom should do with her child – a better, braver, more energetic mom than I. My favorite adventure with my children is to take them to breakfast at Haymaker Bun.

So, for the second installment of my series on the beautiful little things of Addison County, I am submitting an ode to Haymaker Bun.

Click here to continue reading this week’s “Faith in Vermont” column in The Addison Independent.

Beautiful Things: Tri-Valley Transit

For those who observe the Christian liturgical calendar, we are right in the midst of Lent. The Lenten season involves 40 days of preparation before Easter, beginning on Ash Wednesday and ending on the sundown of Holy Thursday. Lent is typically observed by reflection, repentance, and fasting, often characterized by a “giving up” of something. For instance, this year my eldest daughter gave up Starbucks (motivated, I suspect, less by the condition of her soul than by the condition of her wallet after buying $7 drinks post-school.)

This year, I’m observing Lent by taking something on as opposed to giving something up. The two practices are two sides of the same coin, really, since taking something on usually involves sacrificing precious time. What I’ve taken on is noticing one beautiful thing each day: anything that makes the world a little more beautiful. I record it in writing, and I’m compiling my daily reflections on beautiful things in a “Book of Beauty” for my family. It’s been a fun, enlightening, and sometimes challenging exercise.

I’ve decided to do something similar in this column: a series in which I highlight the beautiful things in our little corner of Vermont. After a season in which I delved into the difficult issues of middle age, change, and raising teenagers, perhaps it’s time for something a bit more hopeful – especially as we approach mud season after a particularly grey winter, as we approach the upheaval and unpleasantness of an election year, as we continue to grapple with the bad news of the world. You get the picture: We could all use a little beauty.

I’m going to begin with one of my favorite beautiful “secrets” of Addison County: Tri-Valley Transit (TVT.) Formerly known as ACTR, TVT was formed in 2017 when the public transportation systems of Addison, Orange, and Northern Windsor counties merged. It exists as a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization, funded by an 80/20 mix of state and federal grants and private donations. The mission of TVT is “to enhance the economic, social and environmental health of the communities we serve by providing public transportation services for everyone that are safe, reliable, accessible and affordable.”

Click here to continue reading this week’s “Faith in Vermont” column in The Addison Independent.

Why You Should Watch Bluey

One of the effects of our children getting older is the fragmenting of our family.

That sounds dramatic, but although it sometimes makes me (and the youngest siblings) a bit wistful, I’ve come to see that It’s natural and inevitable. During their early years our children ran in a pack: they played together, read the same books, watched the same shows, attended the same activities, listened to the same music, and shared the same friends. But now that we have children ranging in age from 4 to 16, spread across four different schools and countless activities, their pack days are gone. They still love each other and enjoy spending time together when they can, but they are five individuals.

Nowhere is this more obvious than in our regular weekend game of: Let’s watch something together tonight! What shall we watch?

Nobody’s interested in watching what the four-year-old wants to watch, because they’ve seen it all before: educational PBS Kids fare like Wild Kratts and Curious George. Our ten-year-old prefers wholesome American Girl films. Our middle schoolers tend towards fantasy/adventure (Studio Ghibli films are favorites.) And our teenage daughter prefers a good romance. Meanwhile, my husband Erick and I just want to skip the negotiating so that we can get to bed before 11 pm.

During a family visit this summer we were bemoaning the difficulty of agreeing upon crowd-pleasing viewing fare, and my sister-in-law asked, “Have you seen Bluey?”

Click here to continue reading this week’s “Faith in Vermont” column in The Addison Independent.

Driver’s License

I’m not the type of mother who typically makes a big deal out of my children’s major life milestones.

With five children, my brain simply lacks the capacity to keep track of when everyone first walked, talked, and lost their first tooth. This makes for some awkward conversations when my children come to me looking to fill in the gaps of their developmental histories: To the question, “When did I take my first steps?” my answer is, “Uhhh, I can’t remember exactly…. Around the usual time?” And somehow, I have absolutely no memory of my fourth child’s first word.

While everyone else plasters social media with “first day of the new school year” photos featuring all their beaming children lined up on the front steps in matching outfits, holding little printouts of the grades they’re entering…I routinely forget to take a first day of school photo. During the years when I homeschooled my children, it was hard to muster much enthusiasm for a photo-op when at most they were walking up a flight of stairs (often still in their pajamas.) Now the majority of my offspring leave the house for school: different schools, with different start times and different first days. How do I work with that?!?

I think we do a nice job as a family celebrating birthdays and holidays, but we certainly don’t do anything flashy or extravagant. Presents, cards, a cake, the option of a little party with friends or family – what more could you want?

I love my children fiercely, I just don’t like to put all my celebratory energy into a single event, and over time I’ve learned that it’s better that way. The bigger the buildup of expectations, the harder the letdown afterwards – not to mention the increased stress during the event itself.

But just yesterday my eldest daughter got her driver’s license, and to my shock it feels like a really big deal.

Click here to continue reading this week’s “Faith in Vermont” column in The Addison Independent.

Favorite Books of 2023

Hello, friends!

It has been…a while. In early September, I took a sabbatical from my regular column — and, by extension, this blog. So much has happened since then, and so much is brewing for the coming year, but for now, I’m going to kick off the New Year with my traditional list of favorite books from the past year.

I’ve been reading less each year. This is partly due to how busy life is, as the kids get older and are heading in so many different directions. But I’ve also been reading longer, more difficult books; the type of books that used to intimidate me. In recent years, I’ve figured, “If not now, when?” and dived into some books that are, to say the least, a commitment. This year, a friend started a book group specifically for reading the classics. As part of that group, I read two 1,000-page novels that took months apiece: Kristin Lavransdatter, by Norwegian author Sigrid Undset, and The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Both are books that I’ve long wanted to read; neither will appear on this list. I’m glad to have read them, but there is just SO MUCH happening in each book that it’s going to take me another year of processing to figure out if I actually LIKE them.

So, without further ado, my picks for the year!

Favorite Fiction

Foster by Claire Keegan

This was such a lovely, quiet, heartrending book. It reminded me a bit of The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro, in that what isn’t said is actually louder than what is. I listened to Foster on audiobook, and would recommend that as the best medium because you’ll get the lovely, lilting voice of Aoife McMahon bringing the Irish characters to life.

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

Last year I read — and loved — Clarke’s epic Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. This book is slim where that book was a doorstop, and modern where that book was rooted in Napoleonic England, but Piranesi is just as strangely compelling. It’s like a little mystery that the reader solves along with the narrator, and is probably best read along with someone with whom you can discuss the questions it raises.

Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis

This is Lewis’s last work of fiction, a re-telling of the myth of Cupid and Psyche, and it’s as far from Narnia as one can imagine! It’s a gut-punch look at how we often wound the people we are trying to love, with the best of intentions. I’d recommend it especially for parents of teenagers.

Favorite Non-Fiction

Falling Upward by Richard Rohr

I felt both seen and challenged by Rohr’s vision of the second half of life. This should be required reading for anyone entering middle age.

You Could Make This Place Beautiful by Maggie Smith

Poet Maggie Smith writes in the most gorgeous prose to tell the most awful story of how her marriage fell apart on the eve of the COVID pandemic. It’s filled with incisive insights about womanhood and relationships. Warning: It will likely make you take a VERY close look at your own marriage!

Favorite Book on Christian/Spiritual Topics

Good Enough by Kate Bowler

I absolutely love Kate Bowler: I have loved her previous books, I listen to her podcast episodes as soon as they’re released, and I adore how she bursts out with her infectious laugh in the midst of discussing brutally difficult topics. This book of devotions was a delight.

Favorite Young Adult Book

Looking for Alaska by John Green

Although my children will never totally outgrow some picture books and children’s titles, many of them are gravitating more towards Young Adult (YA) literature these days. I’m not going to lie: This makes me nervous. But it’s also had some particular delights, and John Green is on the top of that list. I have now read all of his books, with the encouragement of my teens. Of the three I read this year, Looking for Alaska was my favorite. Like all of Green’s books, it’s able to hold in tension the beauty, brutality, and humor of life, seen through the eyes of teenagers. (NOTE: The Fault in Our Stars and Turtles All the Way Down are tied for my top favorite Green books, but I didn’t read them this year.)

Favorite Poetry Book

How to Love the World by James Crews

I read one of the poems in this anthology each morning throughout what was a very challenging fall, and that felt like exactly the right thing to do.

So, there you have it! I’m already into some great books in 2024 (now that I’m finally finished with The Brothers Karamazov and feel like I have my reading life back!) Wishing you all a wonderful year, filled with books that stir your hearts towards all that is beautiful and true.

Why You Should Watch “Barbie”

“This movie is going to change my life,” my 15-year-old daughter stated confidently.

I looked over to where she sat in the passenger seat, swathed in an oversized pink sweatshirt. I was taking her to meet a friend, with whom she would watch the new “Barbie” film. The film that would, apparently, change her life.

I’m getting used to hyperbolic statements from my teenagers, but I still tend to pause and assess the underlying intent before I respond. Is she being serious? Sarcastic? Humorous? Dramatic? If you see me looking confused for the next decade or so, this is why.

“Well, that sounds really…exciting,” I responded slowly. “Although in my experience, life change is a slightly…longer process.”

“Well, this movie’s going to change my life,” she asserted. “When you pick me up, I’ll be a different person.”

When I picked her, she still looked the same.

“So?” I asked, “How was it? Did it change your life?”

Click here to continue reading this week’s “Faith in Vermont” column in The Addison Independent.

A Mother’s Day Reflection on “The Giving Tree”

“You know that book, The Giving Tree?” my daughter asked the other day. We were on our way home from her two-day class camping trip – a 9^th grade tradition at her school.

“Yes….” I replied, warily. I do know The Giving Tree, Shel Silverstein’s bestselling 1964 picture book about a boy and the tree who loves him. We’d been given the book early on in our life as a young family, but I’d gradually become so disturbed at the type of relationship The Giving Tree modeled for my children that I’d expelled it from our bookshelves.

“Lil read it to us on the trip,” my daughter continued, “and I was crying so hard. It’s so sad; it’s like a metaphor for everything.”

“What touched you most about the book?” I asked.

“Well, at the end, the boy and the tree both have nothing left to give, but they’re just together….”

“That’s true,” I acknowledged. “What do you think that’s a metaphor for?”

“A lot of things. Parenthood.”

“Parenthood?!?” I yelped. “Do you plan to strip me of everything and then sit on my dead body?”

“Well you wrote once about how you should die slowly for the people you love!” she countered.

Not for the first time, I had mixed feelings about intelligent children who read my columns.

Click here to continue reading this week’s “Faith in Vermont” column in The Addison Independent.

Parenting Teens in Middle Age: Here Be Dragons

My fourth child turns ten in June, which means that I have been writing this column for over a decade; this is my 299^th column.

Back when I first pitched this column to John McCright, my patient and kind editor, I envisioned writing from the perspective of a mother with young children who had recently moved to Vermont and was experiencing all the quirky joys of this unique state for the first time. That’s what I was back in 2012. That’s not what I am anymore.

My husband and I are no longer particularly young; we’re middle-aged, closer to 50 than to 40. Our five children still live at home, and since our son was born in 2019 we do have one child who qualifies as young — but we also have two teenagers and a tween. And while there are definitely still new Vermont experiences to be had, we tend to stick to the same familiar, comfortable, large-family-friendly activities.

I’ve noticed lately that it’s more challenging to decide what to write about. The seasons come and go. The garden is planted, grows, and dies. Chicks and ducklings arrive, and sometimes they die. We go to the lake, to the apple orchard, to the Christmas tree farm, to the ski slopes. We drive the kids to school and activities; we cheer at their games and performances. Every so often the cycle is disrupted by a tornado, a pandemic, a seriously ill child. Then the machine creaks back into motion. I’ve written about all these things.

It’s not that there aren’t soaring joys and crushing tragedies. Life hasn’t become dull and predictable. Rather, at this stage of life, I’m discovering that there are more and more things that we don’t talk about. That we can’t talk about. That we won’t talk about.

Click here to continue reading this week’s “Faith in Vermont” column in The Addison Independent.