The Swedish Detectives (Books) Arrive on the Scene

From the Martin Beck
Police Mystery Series

Another impact of Global Warming (my tongue is in my cheek here people) is the thawing effect on the Swedish Publishing Houses and the inundation of police procedurals flowing into the ever warming American readership. Case in point, only a few years ago did I first come in contact with Henning Mankell's Kurt Wallander. Here was a detective who struggled with his inner demons, family, and criminals. It was a  new culture for me to explore, this Scandinavian landscape of cities and customs. I was pretty well versed with the British and Italian crime scenes, but like the saying goes this was a 'brave new world.' I will also admit to binge watching the BBC's adaptation of Mankell's work starring Kenneth Branagh as Wallander. A visually stunning production; Sweden is now high on my list of places to visit.

The librarians in my town have been doing their best to help with the importation of these wonderful authors. The Vintage Crime/Black Lizard division of Random House has released Maj Sjowall and Per Wahloo's Martin Beck Police Mystery series with newly written introductions by today's leading police mystery writers. This husband and wife team began writing in the mid-1960s around the time that I was born. These are stories of detection before the advent of computers, DNA fingerprinting, and cell phones. Cases took months to solve instead of weeks or even days. Solid footwork and deduction play the key roles in the capturing of criminals. These are not cozy mystery cases either; hard boiled, and often brutal crimes are committed. What I've learned is that crime and criminals haven't changed much in the last fifty years. I'm sure it is safe to say, that crime hasn't changed much since the dawn of mankind.

The "I Can't Put it Down" Books

Ruth Galloway stories and a
trowel one of her tools of the trade.

Some time back I picked up Elly Griffiths' The House at Sea's End at the library and brought it home. I managed a chapter or two but for some reason couldn't get into the story. A couple of weeks ago I found myself at the bookstore and in need of a good mystery. I love to escape into the world of whodunits and summer vacation is a perfect time to indulge in this pastime. There I was perusing the shelves when Griffiths' titles caught my eye. I read the back of the cover and decided to give it a second try.

Back home with the book, I sat out on the deck and started in and promptly got hooked. I couldn't put it down. I stayed up late in the night reading and polished it off the following morning. Enthralled I went to the library to look for other titles, but sadly only found one more which I read thirstily.

I like Ruth Galloway the main character. She's not super sexy but rather a dowdy overweight smart woman - an archaeologist of all things. She aids Detective Nelson and his colleagues in their work. Unfortunately, I haven't read some of the earlier stories in order to get the full back story between Galloway and Nelson but  I know enough to understand that Galloway's daughter Kate was the result. In these two novels that I've read children are a focus. As a parent it is a bit unsettling for we all know that crimes occur to children and that there is real heartbreak when they do. It is our worst nightmare that something should happen to our children. My own children are old enough for me to be past the fears of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) where you quietly sneak in their rooms to make sure they still breathing while praying they don't wake up. I'm past the school day fears and now I'm on to the college fears. The need to let go and let your children go off and explore the world and make their own mistakes. You can warn them of the dangerous pitfalls that loom but they need to discover them for themselves.

Parenthood changes you, and it changes the characters that we read about. Ruth herself has had to learn that. She is torn by the pressures that working mothers face: the job and the children. There is no good answer, and you are forever doubting your decision making. The most you can hope for is that you choose wisely and that everything will work out alright.

Memoirs: Gardening vs. Farming

Produce and chicken purchased
at local Farmer's market

I've spent quite a bit of time reading gardening memoirs this summer which have helped to inspire me in my perennial gardens. I've enjoyed researching the plants that have been written about and compared my plantings to those of the authors, but when it comes to farming that is a whole new ball game. I'm a gardener not a farmer.

My vegetable garden

Kristin Kimball's The Dirty Life is a love story, one with the man who would become her husband and with the land they came to farm. Kimball first met her future husband while on a writing assignment. Here was a girl from New York exposed to the fields of Pennsylvania and a whole new world opened up before her. She decided to go out on a limb and leave the life that she knew to go and reclaim a farm in northern New York. Her future husband, Mark, had a dream of creating a farm where people could buy shares of the harvest, but unlike many other programs this one would provide an entire diet - fruit, vegetables, milk, eggs, beef, pork, chicken, maple syrup, grains, flours, and herbs.  

Squash

This meant that the two of them would need to get the fields plowed and planted. Mark wanted to work the farm without machinery so the couple had to first find a pair of draft horses and the appropriate equipment. Next came the establishment of their herd and a chicken coop. Kristin and Mark divided the labor and Kristin studied up on animal husbandry and learned how to care for and slaughter the animals that they raised. It was a challenge which was rewarded with success.

Kimball writes of the heartaches and fears that establishing their new farm brought to her and Mark. She revels in their triumphs and happiness. I'll let you enjoy their story.

As for me, I have slowly but surely begun the process of growing more vegetables for my family, and like most home gardeners, being overrun with zucchini has become my fate. I'm thrilled because I'm actually getting tomatoes this year. Last year we didn't have much of a garden as I fell sick in May from a tick borne illness and didn't really recover until July and as a result we didn't get too much done in the garden. With the desire to expand my vegetable raising horizons, I am doing my research and have discovered a way to grow potatoes in a tower of hay and compost contained within chicken wire, and I plan to try it out next spring. In the meantime I continue to work my compost pile in order to be ready.

With the recent Market Basket problems, I have depended more and more on my local Farmer's Market for my produce and even my meat. A farm here in town sells beef, pork, and chicken and although expensive I've decided to make the switch and will probably not go back to shopping for meat at the store. By the way I recommend reading Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle  as a way to learn about what it means to be a locavore, and any of Michael Pollan's work which will make you think about where your food comes from.

The Dream of a Second Home

Souvenirs of France: the tablecloth - gift
from my mother's trip to Provence,
 the eau de vie-from our exchange student.

The French House is Don Wallace's memoir about the second home that he and his wife purchased on the island of Belle Ile in the Bay of Biscay off of France's Brittany coast. After one visit to the island they were under its charm and when the opportunity of purchasing a property there came, they jumped at it. Granted the property was a real fixer upper, and they were barely making ends meet in their first home (apartment life in New York City) they decided to throw caution to the wind and make the purchase. It would be several years before they could afford to make the house habitable. I'll let you read about their adventures with builders and financing, not too mention the neighbors and the local building authorities.

Reading the book reminded me of my time spent in France as an exchange student during my high school days. The Nacel program was a four week, summertime opportunity for students to stay with a host family and be immersed in the language and culture of a foreign country. Since I was studying French in school, and my ancestors came from France that's where I choose to visit. I arrived to find my host family on vacation in Les Issambres on the Cote d'Azur. We would spend three weeks there with most of our time at the beach, swimming and windsurfing. Windsurfing was a challenge to me, I knew how to sail a sunfish but standing up on a board and holding onto the sail was a totally different experience. I finally learned to keep my balance, and could tack (mainly a sailing term I imagine), but when the area got busy with other windsurfers, I became frightened of colliding with others.

My host family were staying in the summer home of my "mom's" parents; my "father's" parent's summer place was not far off. I imagine that may be how Claude and Marie-Christine met, there at the beach seeing has his parents resided outside of Paris and her's in Fougerolles. I suppose by now that they have inherited the properties and still travel there for vacations with their children and grandchildren. That was one of the difficulties that Wallace encountered in his life in France - that properties pass down through the family and many are eagerly awaiting their inheritance.

My dream of a second house doesn't take me to France or Tuscany (Frances Mayes memoirs are another favorite of mine). I like to read about other's experiences in foreign lands but I'd like to stay closer to my own backyard so to speak. As a New Englander, I can't image living anywhere else. My dream home is one on the water somewhere - lake, river, or even an estuary. As I get closer in age to retirement, I spend more time thinking about my future second home. I dream of the day when the tuition payments are done so that I can put my income to better use. In the meantime, my husband and I can travel about the region, staying in B&Bs and researching the area where we would like to own our vacation home.

Agatha Christie, Sackville-West and Gardens

Garden and Household
bric-a-brac

 I'm listening to Agatha Christie's Postern of Fate, one of my favorite Tommy and Tuppence mysteries. In this novel, the last that Christie wrote, Tommy and Tuppence are retired and have moved to the suburbs as we call them here in the US, and are remodeling and settling into the house and garden.

The story opens with Tuppence trying to organize her collection of books. I can sympathize with her. I've got loads of books and I'm always trying to figure out the best place and way to organize them. Down in the family room I've placed a large dining room hutch purchased at a second hand store which serves as a bookcase. There I have the fiction books. Upstairs the bookcase in "the office" contains the non-fiction and "work" books - science: biology, chemistry, and ecology. The hallway bookcase contains more fiction books, and the some of the kid's books that didn't fit on their bookcases. In my bedroom I have a small shelf devoted to what I consider inspirational books, and the current bedtime reading is stacked on the bedside table.

Tommy and Tuppence have their faithful henchmen Albert with them and an even more aged gardener, "Old Isaac" helping them. In the passage I'm writing about Tuppence and Isaac are burrowing through a box of tulips that have been ordered and planning how to plant them so as to make the best effect. This made my mind immediately jump to the section of Vita Sackville-West's, In Your Garden, that I have currently on the bedside table for gentle reading to settle me down for a good night's rest. She advised her readers on the best varieties of bulbs to purchase, their color, price, and seller.

Hutch filled with vintage
silver and odds and ends

Now I love tulips and their vast variety of size, color, and shape, unfortunately, so do the white-tail deer that inhabit the woods that surround my yard. I tried planting tulips the first Fall we lived here and in the Spring they dutifully came up and were promptly eaten. I was heartbroken. I did my research and discovered that daffodils were poisonous and deer resistant and I decided to invest in them. It turns out that Brecks has a wide variety of daffodils not just your average yellow ones. They have managed to bloom and double over the years. Still wish I could have tulips to brighten my springtime garden, but I buy some to place in the house, safe from Bambi.

Mothers, Daughters, and Sisters

Lockets: one given to me by my
mother and father for my First Communion,
the other by my daughter for Mother's Day.

I love to browse for books. Who doesn't? At the library I like to look at the returns cart before someone re-shelves the books. What books are other people in my community reading? Did they choose wisely? Would I like what they've read? It's how I came across an older title of Elizabeth Berg's: What We Keep.

Ginny, the narrator of the story, is the same age I am - 47. Lately, I've been wondering how did I get to be this old? I certainly don't feel old, but my daughter is now 20 and my son will be 18 by the end of August, they will both be at college this Fall and my husband and I will celebrate our 24th wedding anniversary in November. I've been doing a lot of living over the years and if I take after my grandmother (she turned 100 in June), I have a lot more living to do.

What We Keep is the story of a family's unraveling and the stitching back up of it. Ginny and her sister Sharla are drawn tightly together when their mother leaves the family. Both girls close out their mother when she returns and wishes to re-establish their relationship. Mom comes back a changed person and neither daughter is able to reconcile to this new personality. Thirty-five years later Sharla asks Ginny to go and meet with their mother. Ginny reviews her childhood and her own motherhood. I'll leave the story and its ending for you to enjoy. I couldn't put down the book.

As for me, I have a deep relationship with my mother. I've always been close to my mom, but our shared experience of caring for my dying father drew us even closer. My sister, unfortunately has been living abroad these last four years and is finally returning home in a month's time. It will be the start of a new phase of life for the three of us without dad.

Relationships are constantly changing and growing. Even my own with my daughter as she enters into adulthood and my role as mother changes. I work hard at letting go so that she can become her own independent being. Even my role as daughter and sister has changed over the years, and I know it will continue to change and that is a good thing. One of the hardest things in life is to accept change. We want to cling to the things we are familiar with. We want things to stay the same. It's not healthy for things to stay the same and that is the life lesson that we all have to learn.

The Manor House Garden

One garden room at Hidcote Manor picture taken on my vacation 

Agatha Christie and many of my other favorite authors have written about the weekend house party at someone's manor house and there is always a scene when someone invites someone else out for a stroll in the garden. Once out in the garden there might be the "important talk", a dalliance, or even a murder. It didn't really make much sense to me to go for a walk in the garden because I was picturing my garden, but once I had been to England to see what a real manor house garden looks like it began to make all the more difference to my reading.

Gardening is serious business over there in England. Many of the gardens that I visited are even larger than my entire plot of land (1.67 acres). They employed designers and architects and engaged and maintained a staff. When Hercule Poirot is interviewing the gardener, this character was a full time employee with perhaps a "boy" or two working for him. Here I am, just me beavering away at my attempt at a cottage garden and a small vegetable plot. I've had to take a week off due to the rain and an aching back and the weeds have gone rampant from my neglect.

In researching about famous English gardeners I came across Vita Sackville-West, poet and novelist who funded her gardening passions with the proceeds from her literary career. She and her husband purchased Sissinghurst Castle and transformed the grounds, he did the architectural planning and she the plantings. I used the ever precious inter-library loan system to get a hold of a copy of her In Your Garden a collection of her articles written for The Observer during 1947-1950. Now I understand the inspiration that Katherine Swift had for her gardening column written 50 years later. I guess it is a testament to British gardeners that weekly gardening columns are still popular especially seeing the demise of the printed newspaper editions at least here in the US. I'm guilty of giving up the paper subscription when I found myself recycling stacks of them unread. There is always so much more good reading material than the morning paper.

I'm wandering just like one would along the crazy brick paths of a manor house garden. On January 22, 1950, Sackville-West wrote of her plan to design a garden with a single color scheme. She was envisioning a garden of just white blossoms against a backdrop of green and grey foliage. Of course this garden came to fruition as one for which she is famous.