Reader in Wilderness, No Wilderness Reading

I moved (with my husband and dog) to the Adirondack wilderness of northern New York in December 2005. That's right, in the middle of December, on the verge of deep winter. And that was our intention. The morning our movers arrived here from our home in Boston, it was minus 15 degrees Fahrenheit. The temperature that day barely rose above zero and our movers, dressed in hooded sweatshirts and cotton pants, donned every piece of down clothing we heaped on them.

Though there is much more to the story of our embrace of the wild North Country, the subject of this blog is READING. We've weathered five winters here now, and have loved each and every one. This past winter of 2009-2010 was the mildest by far. We hit -15 degrees on only one late night, and that's the coldest it got. Last year we bottomed out at -22 degrees on one night and had numerous days that barely reached zero. Not this winter. And now we're faced with the earliest spring we've encountered since leaving Boston.

I loved keeping a book blog in Boston. (Musings from Redwing Marsh). Now I'm determined to begin anew.

During the past few weeks, I've been mesmerized by memoir. I just finished Lit by Mary Karr. And now I'm halfway through A Drinking Life by Pete Hamill.

Prior to this, in late February to early March, I pushed myself into a wheelbarrow, legs hanging over the sides, through a reading of The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova. The book started with a bang but had the longest sagging middle I've ever encountered, one that never ended, right through the final page. Once again I must realize, a serious reader must know when to kick a book out the door!!! When a sagging middle doesn't rise, beat that book until it crawls back to the library on its own steam.

I'm cooking a Beef Stroganoff at the moment, so I must go, for the moment. I will return to pump things up.