Twigs and pine cones are strewn on snow coloured and dirtied by sand and salt.
Elderly trees have been blown over damaging property and wires
One branch rests nonchalantly
on its frigid landing pad.
“Nothing is so bitter that a calm mind cannot find comfort in it.”
~ Seneca
They were stacked carefully in corners and closets waiting. Waiting for someone to release them from their duct taped cardboard prisons. To be set upright on empty shelves where they can sit patiently and breathe the air of possibility.
I did open one box sitting in my living room; one of the many boxes stacked in my spare room waiting for me to make a decision. My only intention was to take out the top book and read, only to give interest and shape to today. Something to do while I wait for outside activities to resume. with questionable optimism about the success of such a venture past today. Actually, I really needed to get the box out of the way as my feline friend, Jet, was curious about the loose edges of tape holding it together.
To my surprise and my own curiosity, two books opened up possibility and space in my heart. The first - All We Hold a Dear by Kathryn Lynn Davis - is a work of romantic fiction, alternating between the 19th and 20th centuries and an old favourite of mine that takes me into the wilds of Scotland from the comfort of my own home. The second, a gift from a friend in 1989, Today’s Gift, is a daily reading book full of wisdom and common sense. This reminder of an old daily reading practice also took me on a trip. A trip down memory lane.
Since I was a very little girl, when on sleep overs at my grandparents in my hometown, breakfast was always prefaced by my grandpa's daily reading from the Bible and another slim booklet, the name escapes me at this writing. I suppose it set the time for not just our meal, but more my grandparent’s day. I did let go of that practice as soon as breakfast started, but I’ve remembered the calmness of those moments. Two decades later, I was re-introduced to a similar more secular practice at a time when I was in need of that structure and order. Exactly what I need for these boxed in pandemic days.
“Books are the quietest and most constant of friends;
they are the most accessible and wisest and
of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.”
~ Charles W. Eliot
Set in London, England, The Half Sister opens in the waiting room of a doctor’s office. Kate, one of two sisters, and her husband are waiting to see their IVF doctor. After many unsuccessful pregnancies they are trying one last time. At least that is their hope. The story moves on to a family dinner at their mother’s home. Every two weeks, Kate and Lauren and their husbands have gone to their parent’s home for many years. One seat at the table has been empty for a year - their father, Harry passed away the previous year. While Kate and her husband Matt, happily married, are trying desperately to conceive. Lauren and her husband Simon, in a very rocky marriage, have three young children. Their stories begin to unravel when a woman comes to the door, drops a bomb shell on this apparently almost perfect family and is quickly ushered out.
Messy family dynamics, suspicions, sibling rivalry, and DNA all while the truth is expertly revealed. With short chapters, alternating between Kate’s life and Lauren’s life, Sandie Jones expertly weaves a very tangled web. She unravelled it all at the end, with an almost predictable surprise - but not quite. I sighed with relief. Relief that I could slow down and breath! This page turner is an excellent fast read. One comment on the book jacket stated: “a great summer read”. Well, it’s mid winter and, I can attest, it’s a great mid-winter read too.
Discussion this evening over Zoom with the Regina book club I joined last summer was lively. In general, The Half Sister was felt to have many loose ends, some that didn’t seem quite logical. Some felt that the ending was weak, although satisfying.
“Oh what a tangled web we weave
When first we practice to deceive…..”
~ Sir Walter Scott,
From the poem Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field.
Author: Sandie Jones
Copyright: 2020
Publisher: St. Martin’s Publishing Group
Type: Mystery
Format: Fiction
ISBN - 978-1-250-26551-7 (Hardcover)
ISBN - 978-1-250-77499-6 (International, Sold outside of the U.S.)
ISBN - 978-1-250-265523-4 (ebook)
Revision, Review, Edit and Update
The text of this episode - Emelina and Dr. Jeremy - required few improvements. Interestingly, punctuation in a couple of places was corrected. I did change the word 'stone fence' to 'stone barrier', feeling that it functioned more importantly as a barrier in this mountainous rest stop.
The Episode number had been mislabeled. There were two '...Episode Seventeen(2)s...'. Last week I did correct Emelina and Dr. Jeremy to read Episode Sixteen.
In review, this Episode, while comfortable, seemed a bit bland.
Emelina and Dr. Jeremy
They had been driving for a while. Dr. Jeremy Crawford and Emelina Beaufort had married, telling no one. Not even Emelina’s sister, Desperanza Eliot. She would find a letter in her mailbox, addressed in Emelina’s neat hand. “We did it, Jeremy. I didn’t think I’d be brave enough to just pack my suitcase and leave the Estate. Let’s stop and get our picnic out. I really need to stretch. The mountains are beautiful, so different from the Island.”
“Ok Mrs. Crawford. There’s a pullout over there with picnic tables. I knew you would be brave enough. Once you made peace - once we both made peace with our ghosts - it has felt.....normal. Yes that’s it. Normal.”
Jeremy parked close to one of the picnic tables. Emelina got out, stretched her back and looked out over the stone barrier. Turning to the car, she opened the door to the back seat to get their lunch. Jeremy had his head under the hood checking the oil and water. Emelina hummed and spread a table cloth on the picnic table, setting out plates, cutlery and containers of the remaining food prepared by Cook. She was told that they were only going for a drive up island for the week, and wanted to take picnic food with them, making sure there were ice packs in the insulated cooler. Emelina called out to her new husband: “Jeremy, we’ll have to stop in the next town to replenish our food.”
“What’s that, Em? Did you say something about food?” Jeremy put his arms around her, she shook them off. “Stop. I’m still setting the table, Jeremy.”
~~~~~
Dez found the letter, almost neglected it except that she was curious. “Who? Emmie? Why hasn’t she just called me?” Dez tore open the envelope. She read it twice, her smile growing bigger all the time. Then she threw it into the air and called out, not caring whether her neighbours could hear her or not. “They finally did it!” Dez grabbed her keys and rushed back out to her car. “I’ve got to get out to the Estate. I’m supposed to spread the word. I’ll tell Cook first. No, I think Digby - and Martha - should be the first to know. Unless they’re at home in their cottage. I could run over there and let them know. Samuel. I need to tell Samuel. I wonder where they’re going to live or if Jeremy is still going to work.” She got into her old car and turned the key.
~~~~~~
After calming herself, and before she drove off, Dez emailed Digby and asked for a meeting in the kitchen with himself, Martha and Cook about Emelina and Dr. Crawford. She didn’t know if it was possible but thought maybe that would be better than trying to track them all down. Digby did go out to the garden shed and call Samuel in. Giles was in the garage, so when he passed by, he told him they were having sort of ‘an emergency staff meeting’ with just the five of them. As soon as Cook heard what Dez had to say, she smiled. Martha was excited “Oh, another wedding! Those two may think they’ve got away with something, but they’ll be surprised when they come home.” Martha was already planning a homecoming. They would have to keep it small and outside, but they would at least get a wedding reception. Digby was quiet, pleased for Miss Emelina and Dr. Crawford. They were both good people. Samuel, sitting beside Cook, just smiled and nodded. “There’s still life to this old place, Elizabeth. Don’t know what those two have cooked up.”
“It is strange, but true, that the most important turning-points
of life often come at the most unexpected times
and in the most unexpected ways.”
~ Napoleon Hill
From this morning’s journal pages: “Still a few drops of ink in my pen! Up since six a.m., I had spent most of my time cutting up/putting away fresh vegetable while listening to news reports from south of the border. The riots of last Wednesday in Washington, D.C. most troubling. When I awoke this morning, even after a good yawn and stretch, I knew I was grumpy. About what I wasn’t certain - was it because of the messy family dynamic I was reading at bedtime? I’ve been reading that novel too slowly. Was it too much news watching - pandemic and political unrest ?It all leaves me feeling tense and annoyed. Yet here I am. In my own home. Bills paid. Refrigerator full. Most of my family and many of my friends close - but well distanced. Everyone is healthy.”
I finished separating and rinsing the brilliant green leaves of the romaine lettuce, setting them in a container and in the refrigerator. Bundling up against a not so cold day, I set out for my daily walk. Grateful for today's opportunity.
“Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back
and realize they were the big things.”
~ Robert Brault
It’s cold in the snow
when there’s no place to go
so we'll just hunker down
in a thin ray of sun or
shelter by a bush or a tree.
“Nothing burns like the cold.”
~ George R.R.Martin
The space between
chaos and order is a space
for a breath and a rest.
Like the space between
notes of a symphony or
the words of story or song,
creativity blossoms once more
in the silence of this magical space.
“Silence leads us back to our purpose, and it ignites creativity and vision.”
~ Angela Lynne Craig, Pivot Leadership: Small Steps…Big Change
