Wednesday, September 29


I thought I would continue the "g" theme, tho' there was actually no calculation involved in doing so. Laurie King's writing has simply sent me to the computer again to record:

When he first saw our conjuring and magic, Bindra was apprehensive, but once he had witnessed the similar reaction of the rustics, he immediately took on the garments of sophistication and scorned to gape, other than secretly.

"took on the garments of sophistication"

So pleasing.

I am rather timid in saying this (as a homeschooling mother), but I have never been very good at remembering what various literary devices are called (or grammar either, for that matter). But I do know what I love, what speaks to me, what "conjures" up evocative images in my mind as I read certain words strung together...and Laurie King seems to string words together in ways that make me very happy.

One day I will move on to another author, but I am still intrigued by Mary and Holmes, and their adventures are especially satisfying on these rainy days we are enjoying. A log fire and a scalding cup of tea would make for perfection.

Thursday, September 23


(from Laurie King's Mary Russell books-still gladly in the midst of them!)

I love this for its aptness:

"Badger Old Place welcomed us with all its run-down, shaggy magnificence, like and old friend shifting to make room on a bench."

And I love this because it is wonderful to spend time with a friend in the way the last six words describe, and because this is illustrative of the abundance of comforting drinks and cosy places in which to drink them that happily dot Laurie King's novels.

"Mary! What are you doing here? Looking for me? But why in heaven's name didn't you come and find me--you must be in an advanced stage of ice cube-ism. come along; we'll find a warm corner with drinks in it and bemoan the state of the world."

There was also a lovely sentence with something about "grasping the nettle" along with Holmes' hand or some such....but I had to return the book to the library before I could find the beloved sentence. I have since looked up "grasp the nettle" online and it seems to mean forging ahead with something difficult or unpleasant, tho' you know there will be a sting. On my first visit to England in the early 1980s I was thrilled to come across a patch of nettles in Cornwall and proceeded to swish my forearm across the leaves. The resulting tingling accompanied me for quite a while as my friend and I walked to the sea, but I was foolishly glad to have at last experienced what I had read about so often in my books!