The Good Queen's Daughter

The Christmas read--were you like I was?  My favorite time began Christmas night, after all the
visiting and eating and gift exchange, when I retired to my room with the Christmas stocking candy cane and a wonderful childhood classic tale, Alice in Wonderland, Little Women, fairy tales of Grimm or Anderson, the escape into other worlds either imagined or of another time.  Then I would read it for two days straight, in bed, in the bathtub, under the tree.  When I didn't get the right new book for this particular Christmas break escape, I just re-read the old ones every Christmas, it was just as good.

So I was delighted with the gift of the Christmas Day publication of Sylvie Vadimsky's novel The Good Queen's Daughter.   It is just such a luxurious 2 day read!

The Good Queen's Daughter begins with a girl's daring escape from her home on her wedding night, and into the moonlight where she practically falls into the arms of a rough but charming lad.   The bride happens to be Queen Guinevere 's daughter Astrelle, though because of gossip concerning her mother and the knight Lancelot, Astrelle feels unresolved about whether she is truly King Arthur's child.  The need to know who she is drives her on this quest with the aid of this boy, and Merlin's magical daughter Neriki, befriended at the scene of the Lady of the Lake.  Enlisting the aid of  a female unicorn, the advice of a fairie Queen and a ghost knight, the girl ultimately achieves womanhood and queenship, (confidence and love?) and wins a war against dark sorcery to boot.

Speaking of boots, I love Neriki's, and every shimmering detail of the funny or grand characters. I love this book for the vividly painted fairy tale characters made sensible and textured.  Neriki is my favorite, a witchy, changeling sort of Pippi Longstocking-type of independent bossiness and sass. Plus she has terrific fashion and obviously enchants our wistfully admiring heroine.  As a daughter of Merlin she lives time backwards, hence has seen the future and introduces her friends to various modernisms. Interestingly, notwithstanding her leadership in the adventures, she herself is clearly compensating for some insecurity and wistfulness. I also find it interesting and commendable that Astrelle recognizes that killing, even when necessary, is a fearsome wrong which will permanently scar the killer, and not merely a handy action deus ex machina to resolve a plot problem.

I treasure my mental picture wrought of the magically and lovingly described Castle Parien and its fairy inhabitants.  Another delight is the Lady of the Lake, who it seems is a "nymph" in another sense, as she is accused of indiscriminate couplings!  Her twin watery progeny speak in rhyme and are also favorite characters of mine for their utterly alien quality.

This is the holiday gift for which I've longed, and it wasn't until I read it that I even remembered that treasured holiday time of my youth!  Thanks, for pure pleasure.

A novel by my young adult suitable for young teens and entertaining for all ages.  Note that in the original Arthurian legends, (just as in Greek tragedy), there is a hint of dark magic's malicious trickery into incest to accomplish the downfall of a kingdom, and there is one oblique, not graphic, reference to such an act which will not be obvious to the youngest readers.  The heroine and her young lover also engage in an illicit romance, but the details are merely suggested and not illustrated.  As a whole the book is far more wholesome and fun than the prevalence of young adult problem lit force fed to our kids.

Old November mourning is an empty vase

Our old November mourning is an empty vase.

The roses are done.  Tenderness became crisp, the soft blooms drooped,  the leaves wrinkled, the fragrance lingered and the still sturdy canes are laid upon the autumn garden remains.

These are things I never say or think.  I just see the empty vase and dully recognize--
We hold the space.  The vase was cloudy; with care I washed and polished the glass.

We go about what we do, among our ordinary household things.  Our hearts enwrap an empty place.  Sometimes we think of the flowers and how they looked in the window with the lace curtains.  Mostly we feel the empty space, hearts like fingertips against thumb, holding the circled space like we held the blades picked for mother.

Dumb, we hold the place, waiting.

My Dog's Vacation

This is a picture of my dog's vacation.  I cannot be sure where this is because of all of our vacations, the dog and I share the same scene. I believe this was at Plimouth Plantation; I sent the kids to visit the living museum, and the dog and I climbed quite a hill overlooking the parking lot.  I could see a sea of cars and in the distance, even the sea.  After a bit my dog wanted to get back in the car for a nap, and I listened to a book on tape with her.     Now that I remember it, as children my brother and I visited Plimouth Plantation, and my parents stayed in the parking lot...a hot day for pilgrim cabins, and they spared themselves the entrance fee?  I obviously had fond memories.  We do it all to offer our kids the world on a plate, right?  I would share more pics of family vacations, but they all look like this picnic table.

My dog is very smart, even though she skips the museums.    She loves family vacations.  She especially loves rest stops; she thinks the stretch of grass at Wendy's is the point of the whole trip.  On a road trip, she will not eat or drink anything all day, I suppose to avoid carsickness, until we reach a hotel room; then she understands we are  done driving for the day.  Maybe poodles are so smart because they are descendants of an ancient advanced civilization of extraterrestrial aliens.  Don't you think she looks like an ALIEN, all eyes and brain? She certainly tries to communicate with me telepathically.

She can disguise herself as a dandelion.

She can make me think I see her everywhere.