First lines: August 2026 edition

Roses and book review, 2018

Below are the first lines of the books I finished reading in August: 4 fiction and 2 non-fiction.  Two books feature Halley’s Comet prominently.  I didn’t plan it that way.

Before getting to the first lines, a question for all y’all.  One of the authors I read this month is John Green.  I haven’t read any of his fiction: Looking for Alaska (2005),  An Abundance of Katherines (2006), Paper Towns (2008), The Fault in Our Stars (2012), Turtles All the Way Down (2017).

Do you have any recommendations from this list?  Not that I need more to read.  But I do like his nonfiction writing style.

 

First lines:

 

Book 1

Southeast Alaskans call it a sucker hole when a patch of blue opens in the clouds and suckers you into thinking the sky is clearing.  Tourists fall for them regularly.

 

It did not rain near us that day.

 

Book 2

When I visit the back corners of my life again after so long a time, littlest things jump out first.  The oilcloth, tiny blue windmills on white squares, worn to colorless smears at our four places at the kitchen table.

 

 

Book 3

The single drop of pee made a pitiful splash.  Fred sighed as he stood over the cracked toilet bowl that, like him, had seen better days.

 

 

Book 4

Around the turn of the nineteenth century, the Scottish tinkerer and chemist James Watt began working on a new project.  He had already achieved fame and success for making steam engines more efficient, helping to fuel the industrial revolution that would radically reshape human history.

This train is only pretending to be a steam engine.
Hogwart's Express, Universal Studios Park

 

Book 5

Prologue 

Comet Halley reached perihelion—the far side of the sun—on April 10, 1910. It swung in a great arc and began hurtling toward Earth at 120,000 miles per hour, just as Stephen Pike was unpacking his case at the halfway house.

 

When I searched my photo library for "comet"
this came up.  Wrong kind of Comet.
Santa's Stable in gingerbread, 2014 (not made by me)

 

Book 6

Belgian Shoes

Angus Lordie, portrait painter, citizen of Edinburgh, husband of Domenica Macdonald and owner (custodian, perhaps, according to modern sensibilities) of Cyril, the only dog in Scotland to have a gold tooth; that Angus Lordie stood in a room of his flat at 44 Scotland Street, wondering what to wear. 

 

 1/4 

Everywhere, from sunup to sunup, the world is full of song.  The days are hot, hot, and all the hot day long I listen to the bees lifting from flower to flower, to the watchful chipmunk sounding its chock chock chock alarm while the red-tailed hawk wheels, crying, high in the sky.

Did not finish

This morning, my mother sat in front of me, covered neck to toe in a red-checkered, black-streaked wax tablecloth we’d been using as a hairdresser cape for a few years – fastened with a binder clip, of course.

 

The titles and authors revealed:

 

 

Book 1

Chasing Alaska: A Portrait of the Last Frontier Then and Now

By C.B. Bernard

280 pages.  2013.

nonfiction essays travel

Very good.  Well titled.  The author relates his own experience in Alaska along with a history of his cousin who was a bona fide arctic explorer.  The author is none too pleased with cruise ship tourists, of which I was one while reading the book.  He’s not wrong.  The book contains some hope for the preservation of species and habitats.  But so much has changed politically since this book was published in 2013 that I have to wonder if that hope is still warranted.

 

 

Book 2

The Whistling Season

Ivan Doig

345 pages • first pub 2006 

fiction historical

I enjoyed this story of a family in Montana, trying to make it forward after a big loss.  Overlaying the 1909-1910 story is a framework of a top educator in the late 1950s.  I appreciated the emphasis on the effect a good teacher can have, the pros and cons of a one-room school-house, and Halley’s comet as a plot device.   This is sort of a coming-of-age story–there are no grisly scenes–and it introduces a lot of SAT-type vocabulary words.  It felt to me like tame Y.A. lit.  Recommend if you need a calm story that praises education.

 

 

Book 3

The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife

Anna Johnston

336 pages • first pub 2024

fiction contemporary

An amusing and at the same time wistful look at old age and life regrets.  If you don’t like reading about bodily fluids, skip this book.  But really, that’s what managing old age is often about, so you might as well dive in!  This may be the only book I’ve ever read that opens in a urinary fashion.

I really liked the characters and plot, although the Common Household Husband said for him the plot was too predictable.  In high school when we were reading The Scarlet Letter, everyone else knew who the perp was, but I did not figure it out until the author revealed it.  I rarely can guess the plot in advance. 

There was one trick in the narration which I did not appreciate.  It is revealed about 20 chapters in.  The author did it, I think to reinforce the parallels between some of the characters.  Really, we would have realized those parallels on our own.  But like I said, probably all other readers figured this out long before I did.

I read it for Book Club.   Half disliked it, because they just really didn’t want to read about all those fluids.  The other half liked it.

Toilet functions are #1 (and
sometimes #2) in this book.

 

 

Book 4

Everything is Tuberculosis

By John Green

198 pages • first pub 2025

nonfiction health history science

Recommended by numerous people, including E.S. in my book club, blogger Bibliomama, and one of my son’s friends.

A fast read, examining one widespread and deadly illness as an example for how humans could (but so far won’t) begin healing globally.  Ends with hope.  I recommend it.

 

Book 5

The Murder at World's End

A Stockingham & Pike Mystery #1

By Ross Montgomery

368 pages •2025 

fiction crime historical mystery

A good diversion.  I liked the characters, for the most part, but the nasty family members became tedious about half-way through.  This is the author’s first book for adults.  He has written mostly middle-grade fantasy.  

This is the second book in my reading this month which featured Halley’s Comet as integral to the plot.

Recommended by booktuber Steph of the channel Hathaway Ever After, as seen on this Topher’s Library video.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sK4hNTUZxVA&t=2s

 

 

Book 6

Love in the Time of Bertie

(44 Scotland Street series #15)

Alexander McCall Smith

256 pages • first pub 2021

fiction contemporary

I love reading about these characters in Edinburgh, Scotland.  Includes a highly improbable deus ex machina moment to get a character out of a fix, even more unlikely than the moment in Les Miserables when Jean Valjean is leaping across the roofs of Paris and falls into the … but never mind that.  McCall Smith mocks himself for this plot development.  

This reading had me looking up several things referenced in the book:

• The music An Orkney Wedding with Sunrise, by Peter Maxwell Davies. (worth a listen!) Make sure you are watching at timestamp 5:50.

• The opera titled The Electrification of the Soviet Union.  Yes, this opera does exist.  But I did not attempt to listen – not a fan of opera.

• The per capita chance of being hit by lightning, by country.  It’s higher in places with high agricultural labor.

• The location of Inverurie in relation to Aberdeen, Scotland.  The map shows some intriguingly-named local attractions, such as these, with some Google reviews:

• East Aquhorthies Stone Circle (“awsome place and not far from carpark just up a wee hill”

• Dalmadilly Ponds (“Nice wee place”; “a beautifully restored nature haven”; “Went to dalmadilly with my mate philly, was a bit chilly, philly got lost and felt quite silly, beautiful views of nearby hillys and overall was good cause we seen a pond lily”)

• The Maiden Stone (“great wee stopover on route north”; “if you like stone bothering this is a place to visit”)

• Bass of Inverurie (“3 terrific Pictish stones under cover, interesting graveyard”)

 

So in addition to being a calm, thoughtful read, it was educational.

 1/4

I finished the “Summer” section of

The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year

Margaret Renkl

270 pages • first pub 2023  

Summer is not my most favorite season, but I think it is probably Margaret Renkl’s favorite.

So many good quotes and challenging thoughts.  Such as:

… let us consider the whine of the mosquito…who among us could love you? ….We could love you if we reminded ourselves that no creature is made up only of poison, that no life is only a source of irritation or pain. 

That’s a challenge, Margaret, to love mosquitoes.  You are better woman than I.

Or this:

We have come to August, a time when summer has gone on for so long that winter is scarcely a memory. … This is the time of summer when summer tells us it will never end.

But here is an ancient black gum rising so high I’m obliged to throw my head all the way back to see even its lowest branches, and next to its trunk is a single red leaf, fallen onto the forest floor. … I can hardly believe what it is telling me, dripping in the cloud-drenched woods, but I recognize it now: a prophesy.

I do love it when the first leaves begin falling in late August, to forecast the arrival of autumn.

DNF

The True True Story of Raja the Gullible (and His Mother)

Rabih Alameddine

326 pages • first pub 2025 

fiction contemporary lgbtqia+

I might come back to it someday.  But right now, despite my own fondness of cussing, I could not take the repeated foul-mouthed phrase.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

Halley’s Comet is next predicted to be visible from Earth in 2061.  Shall we have a party?

Redbud tree, midsummer, 2016

It's just a bunch of stuff that happened - Part 3: Empty Nest Again

How it started:

In June, Younger Daughter was offered a job.  !!! Teaching anatomy at a community college.  She moved back home, in transition to her new job which is in a small town about two hours’ drive away.

YD will be following in a long family line of
educators.  Here's my mother (YD's 
grandmother) teaching science educators
in Panama.  The Common Household Husband
(YD's father) is an educator.  My father's
mother (YD's great grandmother)
was an educator.

How it’s going:

Younger Daughter arrived here in late June, after a very difficult time moving - the container didn’t show up on the appointed day, which meant she lost money on the moving crew and her plane ticket home, which was supposed to be the next day.  And YD had packed up all her stuff, meaning she had to live in sparse conditions.  Eventually the things were packed and moved and she flew here, beleaguered, a week later.  This included her rescheduled flight being cancelled, for no apparent reason.

In exchange for room and board here, she paid for one large bevy of groceries, and did most of the dinner cooking.  YAAAAAAY for someone to do the dinner cooking!  She is a good cook.  We had paella, spinach enchiladas, broiled salmon, sausages with rice and peas, and more.

We baked So Much (recounted in this post). 

As expected when progeny moves home to the ancestral abode, there have been testy moments, but overall it was marvelous having YD here.  We sang at the piano, we baked, we chatted, we shopped for her new apartment, we watched a weird movie.

Last Friday morning, during the second day of monstrously unhealthy air quality, the Common Household Husband drove YD two hours southeast to her new town.  He drove back that same day, exhausted.  Without YD (as planned).  Sob.  

First impressions of the town.

Also last Friday morning, the house sewer pipe backed up, making our world stinky both inside and out.  Oh, 2026, please stop your mischief!  But CHH and YD left on schedule, leaving me to deal with physical therapy, the exterminator (did I mention we also had ants in the house?) and the plumber.  Those all happened on schedule, with good (so far) outcomes.

Ew,

Ewwwww.

That evening, given the tension of the day, we asked each other dolefully, “Do you think YD is doing okay?”  But we did not text or call.

The next morning, we asked each other, “Do you think YD is doing okay?”  and “Is the sewer line still clear?” But we did not text or call, O Best Beloved.  Miraculously, of her own accord, YD texted us joyfully that the Pod (the container with all her furniture in it) had arrived at the appointed time (unlike the previous time).  And, get this, she has met some of the neighbors!  In the 21st century, that hardly happens any more.  The neighbor who was being evicted for bad behavior has already left.  

Container delivered.  Whew.

We miss YD a lot.  We do have a political campaign staffer living with us – she is charming and I have grown quite fond of her.  But we count this as a return to being empty nesters.  Hooray!

And now, off to new adventures!  If you can call them that, in 2026!

Part 1: Peaches Deliver Joy

Part 2: Chairs and Gardens

Explosions

Holden Arboretum, Kirtland, OH

Congratulations to all you folks who had “meteor fireball” on your 2026 bingo card.  Exploding meteor over Massachusetts!  Younger Daughter says she heard it, but thought it was thunder.  

“It was definitely bigger than a normal fireball, about a yard wide,” [American Meteor Society program monitor Robert Lunsford] said.   

Are fireballs ever normal?  

I experienced my own sort of explosion this week, due to aggressive shower scrubbing on Monday and then, stupidly, excessive gardening on Wed. and Thurs.  

The dark lines in the shower floor
are not dirt but emptiness.

I had to scrub the shower because the guy was coming on Thursday to regrout the shower floor.   The only thing good about this was that I had abandoned the idea of doing the regrouting myself.  The scrubbing of the shower brought on mild sciatica. 

Gardening on a steep slope like this
is difficult.  But of course, you can't
tell from this photo that it is a steep slope.
Lamb's ear, lantana, and verbena.

Outside, we have been planting perennials and annuals galore, as our horticultural statement that we believe there will be a future with beauty in it, despite all current evidence to the contrary.  Perennials from the garden store come in DEEP buckets.   We bought a spade to dig deep holes.  And our neighbor saw me planting stuff, and gave me gobs more perennials (for free!) from her very successful garden.

And then I wanted to put in some bleeding hearts, and on Thursday the garden store finally had them in stock. This meant digging more very deep holes in rocky soil and cutting some thick roots, in a hurry because we would be away for the weekend.   This was the last straw for my sciatic nerve, which has obviously heard that it is the year 2026.  Stinging, burning pain from my butt all the way to my heel.  It became extremely painful to sit, or move to standing, and eventually even when lying down and not moving.   The pain is as intense as labor contractions, but with no prize after. 

From inside the hole for the
bleeding heart

On Friday we drove to Ohio for a planned visit to Older Daughter.  The Common Household Husband said I should go, because if not, I would regret missing the family visit.  I achieved my lifelong goal of getting my husband to stop at every rest stop, so I could stand up for a few blessed minutes.  I went on a regime of max dosages of ibuprofen and acetaminophen, which made the pain barely tolerable instead of excruciating, but had unpleasant effects on my digestion.  

I tried to distract myself from the pain by calling Younger Daughter, who has recently studied anatomy.

Me: “Please explain to me the sciatic nerve, and why it hurts so expletive-deleted much, and why I even need this nerve.”

Younger Daughter, in teacher mode:  “Are you familiar with your spine?”

Me: “That’s a political question. There are many people these days who are not familiar with their spines.”

YD basically said that the sciatic nerve is a big honking nerve (connected to the spine) which I do actually want to have because it enables walking.

Saturday we drove 40 perturbing minutes to the Holden Arboretum. Once I got out of the car I was actually able to enjoy the arboretum, as long as I kept walking and never sat down.  We saw some Quaking Aspens, which are one connected organism! The Bald Cypress is a tree that has knees.  We saw lots of gorgeous flowers too, including some of the same species that we have planted in our own garden.  

Quaking Aspen

Bald Cypress

We probably walked more than two miles, for several hours.  Quite a hike for me!

Instead of staying in Ohio another night we drove home and got to the urgent care an hour before they closed.  Confirmed that it is sciatica. The doc said, “You shouldn’t just lie in bed because that will create other more serious problems.  But don’t go on a hike or anything like that.”    2026 strikes again - I just spent hours walking around the arboretum.

With prednisone, the pain has gone from constant agony down to a dull pain when sitting, and only excruciating when getting to standing, or putting on my socks and shoes.  I have to go up and down the stairs like a toddler.  I can’t drive.

On the plus side, the shower is regrouted, the garden beds are planted, we obtained an Emergency Heating Pad, we got to visit the folks in Ohio, if briefly.  And steroids exist, at least for two more days.

And we have an explosion of flora surrounding the house. That's pretty good, for 2026.

Yellow peonies, Holden Arboretum

Yarrow, Holden Arboretum.
I wonder if ours will look like this, ever.

Star of Persia allium, and two-toned peonies,
Holden Arboretum

You Have the Power

TEETH.
American Museum of Natural History,
New York City, August 2014

On Wed. March 11th I went to the Dentist Whom I Do Not Trust (DWIDNT?) and acquired my first crown, on a tooth that has not been causing me any pain or trouble.  I kvetched and moaned beforehand to anyone who would listen.  My friends offered concern and solace, patiently telling me that they had had this procedure and it was not painful.  Expensive dental work without pain? Can’t be, I reasoned.

I entered the appointment in a bad mood, because of All The Things, including but not limited to anticipation of pain.   I told the dentist at the start that I was nervous, for which the response was the usual medical-personnel brushoff, “Oh, you’ll do fine.”  

This reminds me of Nov 2016 after the Orange Menace was first elected, when someone at church said to me, “It will be okay.”  It has not been okay.  It has been horrendous.

I said to the Dentist Whom I Do Not Trust, “You’ve done a billion of these, right?”  Yes, pretty much.  He spent about 30 seconds administering the local anesthetic, went away until I was numb, came back and spent about 5 minutes drilling the old filling out.  Then he left the room, never to be seen again by me that day.  The rest of the work that hour was done by Kelly, the Person Whose Title I Don’t Know.  Or maybe her name was not Kelly.  I don’t remember.  (I wish that I would be handed a card at every dentist visit that says, “Your hygienist today was FirstName” because after six months I can never remember the hygienist’s name.)  I was worried about how the dentist was going to be, professionally, but I should have worried about how the Unknown Titled Person would be.  She did a lot of intricate work to make the temporary crown.

They knew I had never before received a crown, and that it was a long time since I had had anything done requiring local anesthetic.  I wanted them to tell me, for each part of the procedure, exactly what they were doing.  They did not.  Informing the patient is too much to ask in 2026.  As best I could, I asked questions, despite my mouth being numb.   But if I didn’t ask, there was very little info forthcoming.  

Wedding crowns from
Pakistan.

I was told what not to eat, and not to floss, that it’s probably a good idea to rinse with warm salt water, the warmer the better.  This info should be handed to the dental patient after the procedure, on a little card which also says, “Your hygienist today was FirstName.” I am now terrified to brush my teeth on that side.  

I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had no pain, even after the anesthetic wore off.  All my friends were telling me the truth, and I am grateful.  I rinsed with salt water, while the Common Household Husband peppered me with questions:  How much salt?  How hot the water?  How often?  I have no idea, because I was not handed a little card with detailed instructions.  I am the grandchild of a train engineer and the daughter of an engineer and a teacher.  I want detailed instructions.  Or, to put it more bluntly, I want to be pampered.

It is a temporary crown, but gives me the authority to say, on March 28th, “You say ‘No Kings’, but I actually have a crown. Bwa ha ha ha !.”  It is very unlikely I will actually say that.  

I offer no final judgment until I receive the permanent crown. The temporary one makes me feel like I have glue on my gums.

*** Two days later ***

On Friday March 13, 2026 we had a huge wind storm, which knocked the power out, just after I finished cooking dinner.  We ate dinner in the light of the shabbat candles.  I had just charged up my kindle earlier in the day.  The Common Household Husband was home and, though his EV was below 50%, it had enough charge to run the fridge.  The outside temperature was above freezing.  No trees fell on the house. You can decide if all of that means Friday the 13th is lucky or unlucky.   The power was off until around 3 PM the next day.

Near our son's apartment

During the night, I skipped around on my kindle, starting three new books and eventually finishing one I had been reading, in the hopes of falling back asleep.  I had been longing to have the concentration to sink my teeth into a long book, and I took this as my opportunity, although it is hard to concentrate with the wind howling.  I bought a 571-page Pulitzer-Prize-winning history book about Cuba. I am enjoying it so far.  I will probably finish it in July.

We made it through the night, waking up on Saturday to an ambient temperature of around 58 degrees in the house.  Brrr!  We got up and made our way to Eat ‘N’ Park, a fine local eating establishment, where we found everyone else also in search of a hot breakfast.  

I completely forgot to rinse with salt water.  But I still remain without any pain or infection.  So far.

We cleaned up branches and sticks from the yard until the bin was full.  We drove over to our son’s apartment – his power had been restored Friday afternoon – charged our devices, chatted, and went for a strenuous walk to view the local damage.  When we returned home in the afternoon, the power had been restored about half an hour prior.  NAPTIME.

So we have electrical power back at our house (not so much for my church, sadly), and I have temporary regal gear, at least for Molar #31.  This afternoon, the wind is really picking up speed again.  Thanks, 2026.

Voting is my superpower, and probably yours too.  I refuse to cede that power: I have a crown. 

Hope to see you all in the streets on March 28th.

No huge branches down in our yard.

The bin is full but we still have
more branches to put in it.
And another windstorm today.

Does she wear a crown or a tiara?