Texted to Death, and We Are Still Reading

DEBORAH CROMBIE: So how are we all surviving the ad onslaught in the run up to the midterms???

We don't watch much broadcast TV, so have at least mostly been spared ads there. (I love The Voice, but watch on Tablo, which gives you commercial skip the next day.) But we do like to watch things on YouTube, and the ads there have been relentless and inescapable. You can't fast forward--you can only wait for the little disc to count down until it allows you to skip, and often they are bundling three or four ads in that space. And of course if you're not fast enough on the button, the cycle starts all over again... 

And then there are the texts!!! We might be able to choose not to watch TV or YouTube, but sometimes texts are actually important and we can't just ignore them or shut off the app. I can take some responsibility for the number I get because I'm on donor rolls, but Rick is not and he gets almost as many as I do.

I feel guilty, too, because many of these texts are from people I'd like to support but I'm already doing what I can for my state candidates, and I will vote. (Friday!)

Has anyone devised a coping strategy, other than infinite patience?

Now, for a couple of brighter notes, I had to share a photo of one of the gorgous pots on our front porch, which I mentioned the other day.

I have two of these, courtesy of our local hardware store, and goodness did they perk things up after our blistering summer. I'm trying to take half an hour every day just to sit outside and admire them.

And here's another cheery thing. There is a huge profile of James Daunt in the October 19th issue of The New Yorker, titled "The New Age of Reading." It doesn't seem that the magazine allows gift articles (or at least I couldn't figure out how to do it,) but here's the link if you're a subscriber. If not, it might be worth a trial just to read this piece.

I've been a huge fan of Daunt Books since long before Daunt became CEO of then-failing Waterstone's (and now Foyle's and Blackwell's as well) and now CEO of Barnes & Noble. The original Daunt's in Marlebone is one of the most gorgeous bookstores you could ever hope to visit, and I also love the Daunt's in Holland Park, which has been my "regular" when I'm in London. (A funny story about that store--quite a few years ago I was in London when one of my books had recently come out and the shop had several copies on display. I took them to the counter and asked them if they'd like me to sign the stock (as we do in the US) and they looked at me like I was absolutely bonkers. In the end I had to show them ID to prove that I wasn't just some crazy lady who'd wandered in off the street and wanted to deface the merchandise!)

After a slew of articles in the last few months, including "The Age of Reading is Dead" in the August issue of The Atlantic, The New Yorker piece offers a much needed rebuttal, as well as an in-depth look at the man who seems to have single-handedly saved bookstores on both sides of the Atlantic.

What do you think about the state of reading, dear Reds and readers? I know we exist in a book-centric universe, but I see positive signs everywhere.

A Madness of Pumpkins

DEBORAH CROMBIE: When I was a child (back in the dark ages I admit) I remember having one autumn pumpkin, and that was for carving a jack-o-lantern on Halloween. I don't remember my mother ever festooning the inside of the house with orange squash, nor were there any pumpkins decorating porch or driveway. Times have certainly changed! I give you my daughter's porch as an exhibit! 

Those mums are almost as big as Wren!! They didn't cart all these pumpkins home themselves, by the way. There are pumpkin decorating services! (What I'm wondering is whether the service will also come and take them away?) This makes the two tiny ones I put on my front doorstep this year look a bit sad, but that little pop of orange color is still cheerful.

I debated buying more, and bigger, ones for the front steps, but then did the calculations–not only would I have to carry them from the car, but also back to the trash bins at the end of season. We don't have a big compost pile and I never much like putting a bunch of rotting vegetables in the landfill.

But it's not just Americans that have gone pumpkin mad. I run across ex-pat Brits who will tell me that the British don't do pumpkins, or Halloween, but I beg to differ. Look around anywhere in London, where gourds abound, or at this shot of Tulley's Pumpkin Farm near Gatwick Airport just south of London. Check out their link above--it's atonishing.

Those are some serious pumpkins!

This started me thinking about the economics of the pumpkin craze, and what a boon it must be to farmers, whether here or in the UK. I just read in my Dallas paper that this summer's drought in the Texas Panhandle reduced the pumpkin crop by about a third and the farmers are suffering.

I have to say I do love all the displays, they are so bright and cheerful, and I'm all in for anything that gives our farmers a cash crop. How about it, fellow Reds, do you go all out for the seasonal squash?

LUCY BURDETTE: I love looking at the displays as well! We were so sad this year because the pumpkins did not come up in John's garden. Last year we probably got 20, put a bunch out ourselves and gave the rest to the neighbors. This year we have two tiny mini pumpkins on the dining room table and that’s it. But I think yours are adorable!

JENN McKINLAY: I’m more of fake headstones on the front yard decorator than pumpkins on the porch. When the Hooligans were young, we carved pumpkins and put them out, saving the seeds for roasting, natch. But once they outgrew it, I was over it. The headstones and skeleton come out every year, unless I’m traveling during Halloween. I do love other people’s pumpkin displays, however!

HALLIE EPHRON: My neighborhood goes mad for Halloween, but not so much for pumpkins. It’s more blow-up plastic tarantulas and skeletons sitting on roofs or leaping out of attic windows.

My Jerry was a master pumpkin carver and every year we’d set one that he’d carved in our front window. And I’d wash and roast the seeds that got came out of it. One year I even rescued the pumpkin the day after and made a pie. 

This year I have 2 smallish pumpkins on my front steps, courtesy of my lovely daughter who is now living part time with me. (Lucky me!!) I’m hoping she will opt to carve it as we approach the end of the month.

RHYS BOWEN: My pumpkin carving always left a lot to be desired. Triangle shaped eyes and mouth at best. Since the kids left home I have two ceramic pumpkins I put out with candles in them, but that's about it. We have so few children in my neighborhood that it hardly seems worth decorating.

 

But this year, now that I have my daughter Anne living with me and she is creative and enthusiastic, we may even carve pumpkins and put out a ghost or two.

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I’m a harvest-time/Hallowe’en/Thanksgiving decorator, so I like my pumpkins, mums and gourds. I have several big ones on my porch steps; I like the way they look on the stone, with the last daisies and asters. After Oct 31, I’ll add a few gourds and, if necessary, replace the mums with decorative kales. Happily, I DO have a compost pile, so everything goes back to the soil one way or another.

When my kids were young, of course, we did jack o’lanterns, and sometimes I’d supplement them with uncut (and therefore longer lasting) pie pumpkins. I’ve had many a pumpkin pie in my time, but made fresh from the squash is the most delicious!

DEBS: I love your display, Julia, and now I'm a bit sorry I didn't do my steps as I usually do, alternating pale blue and pale pink pumpkins. I love the weird colors!

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Ah. Um. No. Nothing. I am more a huge basket of mums person. Should I get a pumpkin? I will never make a pie of it, so maybe I’ll stick with the flowers? I am fond of Halloween but more as an observer. I’m not the Halloween Grinch, I promise!

DEBS: Hank, everyone should have at least one pumpkin, even if only a tiny one for your dining room table! I've put a little one on my coffee table and and also on my dining table, and they make me smile every time I look at them.

How about it, dear REDs? Do you have a plethora of pumpkins? Or do you save the squash for pumpkin pie?

No Regrets? by Lucy Burdette

LUCY BURDETTE: last week Rhys had us talking about books. What we do when we have too many of them and how we make decisions about culling the herd. I’ve also done some “ridding out“ as my friend Yvonne would call it, of clothing and shoes. Already, I wish I could call a few things back that are long gone. We don’t have a lot of call to wear corduroy pants in Key West, but this winter we’re also going on a trip to a very cold portion of Europe. There was a pair of black wide wale corduroys that I hadn’t worn in years. They were ankle length, with a band around the bottom, almost a barrel shape. I wore them often, and I loved them, but I gave them away thinking I wouldn’t have opportunities to wear them again.  But now that it’s too late to summon them back, I miss them!

I also regret recycling my overalls. (See the photo at the top of me with my friend Carolyn.) I was in my late 20s when I moved from Tennessee to Florida to start graduate school. I wore those overalls nonstop which no doubt struck others in the clinical psychology department as peculiar. As I advanced farther along in the program, wearing overalls was less appropriate, and I gave them away. But now I see fashionistas wearing overalls everywhere. I miss that pair! 

I may have talked about this years ago, but I had a plastic bag of my favorite childhood stuffed animals. I collected cats that were covered with rabbit fur. They had names and lives and the games we played saw me and my sister through some unhappy times. In that bag were also several arms and legs from my mother’s Raggedy Ann dolls. Don’t know what happened to the other body parts! However, in Florida, my ex and I had a terrible infestation of roaches who ate the fur off of all those animals. I was finally talked into throwing them away. Now, the kicker…

Our local NPR station is soliciting people to bring unusual collections to their Audacious Live show and tell. They suggest things like a jar of cat whiskers—something unusual with meaning and a story behind it. I am positive that a baggie of bald stuffed animals and doll body parts would make a good conversation piece. However, they are gone and I’m filled with regrets.

How about you reds, any items that you disposed of but now regret? Or do you give things away and never look back? Do you have something 'special' you'd bring to that NPR show and tell?