Pages & Paws

Writing, Reading, and Rural Life With a Border Collie


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A Rich Read to Warm Your Winter

Finding Katarina M, by Elizabeth Elo

Harrowing and haunting, Finding Katarina M is an unusual story. The writing is top-notch. The characters are dynamic. The plot is lithe and engaging, with pitch-perfect pacing and enough intrigue to grab the reader like a colt with a new bit racing toward the wire in the Kentucky Derby.

But I just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a little too far-fetched.

A successful Washington, D.C. surgeon on a mission to Northern Nowheresville, Russia to find her grandmother who supposedly died in a Siberian gulag is recruited by the CIA to spy on black market WMD sellers after her teenage cousin and aunt, also recruited by the CIA, disappear?

Then Dr. Natalie March is accused of a double murder, refuses to leave the country, discovers a horrible secret at an abandoned gulag site, winds up in a Russian prison, escapes, and miraculously locates her long-lost aunt in an unmapped village, second star to the right and straight on to Nowhere? And snow. Lots and lots of snow.

And NYPD Detective Ruggeri, CIA spymaster Meredith Viles and her unsavory sidekick, Oleg? Straight out of central casting. And what’s up with that last minute fling with Dimitri?

Even so, the story works.

Dr. Natalie March is a respected American surgeon at the top of her game. Single and closing on 40, Natalie doesn’t have time for anything or anyone outside of a hectic work schedule, her medical journals, and her beloved mom, Vera. A Russian immigrant, Vera has multiple sclerosis and is confined to a care facility. Natalie visits her every Sunday morning.

Vera was ripped from her mother’s arms as an infant when her mother, Katarina Melnikova, was sent to one of Stalin’s notorious gulags. Natalie always presumed that her grandmother Katarina was among the millions of Russians who perished in the notorious labor camps. Until a young woman, Saldana Tarasova, shows up at her office claiming to be her cousin.

A Russian ballerina in the U.S. on a cultural exchange, Saldana insists that Katarina is still alive. She also indicates that her mother and brother, Natalie’s aunt and Cousin Mikhail “Misha”, are in grave danger in Russia.

Saldana is desperate to defect. She tries to enlist Natalie’s help. Reluctant to break the law, Natalie waffles. But when Saldana is murdered, Natalie journeys to Siberia to uncover the truth about her young cousin’s death. In the process, she’s drawn into a tangled web of deceit, double-crosses, and family secrets that pit her against the CIA and the dreaded Russian FSB.

Accused of two murders she didn’t commit, Natalie winds up in Female Prison #22 in the frozen hinterlands of Nowheresville, Siberia. There, her medical expertise comes in handy during a daring escape reminiscent of her grandmother’s run from the gulag.

And snow. Lots and lots of snow. Think Doctor Zhivago.

For the most part, Finding Katarina M. moves with the rapidity of a runaway freight train. It’s high voltage. But at times Natalie’s misadventures seem a bit contrived. We almost lose sight of her search for her grandmother as Natalie wanders through rundown Russian hotels, Siberian reindeer camps, museums, Sakha villages, and Vodka.

We later discover that Natalie’s 19 year-old cousin, Misha, also recruited by the CIA and recently disappeared, was hot on the trail of evidence exposing atrocities at the infamous Gulag Butugychag.

Finding Katarina M. is a prodigious blend of history, travelogue, family ties, and whodunit murder mystery. Skillfully knit into its 322 pages are courage, resilience, and exquisite descriptions of Siberia’s feral wilderness. In the end, Natalie discovers far more than she ever thought she’d find.

Overall, Finding Katarina M. is an engaging, rich read if you’re able to willing to suspend your disbelief and enjoy some good historical fiction. Best paired with a steaming mug of hot cocoa and a roaring fire. I’d grab an extra blanket ‘fize you.


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THIS Book Kept Me Up All Night – Here’s Why

Every once in a while you come across a book that’s so engaging, so fresh and fierce, you can’t put it down until the last elegiac sentence tiptoes across the final page.

Where the Crawdads Sing, by Delia Owens, is one of those books.

I heard Crawdads has been on the NYT Bestseller List for over a year. A natural cynic, I don’t put much stock in “best seller” anything.

So I checked this book out from my library to see what all the buzz is about. Brought it home yesterday afternoon.

I read it cover-to-cover in one sitting. Finished at 1:44 a.m.

Set in rural North Carolina over a span of about 20 years, Where the Crawdads Sing is a wistful, bittersweet story about Catherine Danielle Clark, aka “Kya.” Also known as the Marsh Girl. The story centers on Kya’s young life as she navigates the wilds of North Carolina alone. It’s a masterful tale of love and loss. Abandonment and rejection. Loneliness. Hope and longing.

Powerful and poignant, Crawdads rolled around in my head all night. And most of today.

Crawdads clusters around two time frames, the 1950s and the late 1960s/1970. The chronology could easily come unglued in the hands of a lesser talent. But Owens’s story glides between one epoch and the next as naturally and seamlessly as the channels and lagoons of Kya’s marsh and the wild lands that bookend her life.

The story opens with six year-old Kya watching her Ma trudge away from the family’s marsh shack. Clutching a cardboard suitcase, Ma walks out of Kya’s life without a backward glance.

And so begins a lifetime of loss and loneliness for Kya.

Her siblings all leave the marsh too, including her closest brother, Jodie. We later learn that Kya’s father is abusive, to put it mildly, and Ma and the other children just couldn’t take it anymore. They walk out of Kya’s life one by one, leaving the six year-old alone with her father, who’s absent more than he’s home. When he’s home, he’s usually drunk. When he’s drunk, he’s mean. And violent.

What’s a six year old to do?

Kya does plenty.

Left to fend for herself, the little girl scratches out a subsistence by harvesting and selling mussels and smoked fish to her only real friend, “Jumper.” She learns how to keep a wood stove going, cook grits, steer Pa’s boat. She sleeps on a mattress on the shack’s front porch. Learns how to read the water, tides, birds, grasses and the native flora and fauna of her marsh.

Her only friends are the sea gulls.

Shy and remote, Kya is regarded as strange and odd by the townspeople during her occasional boat trips into town for supplies. She becomes adept at hiding, especially from the truant officer.

Kya raises herself, making do with second-hand clothing and other items collected by Jumper and his kindly wife, Mabel.

With only one day of schooling, Kya finally learns how to read with the help of her friend Tate. She also learns how to count past 29. Paint and collect feathers, shells, and mushrooms.

As a young adult, Kya is still regarded as wild and strange. She’s fiercely independent and private. Shy and retiring. More at home with the creatures of the sea and the marsh than with other people. She understands nature better than people. Humans bewilder, overwhelm, and disappoint.

They also walk out.

In fact, most of the townsfolk shun and ridicule “the Marsh Girl.” Except for her childhood friend Tate, who seems to understand her.

But he abandons her, too.

Longing for companionship but afraid to risk more heartbreak, Kya keeps mostly to herself, hoping against hope that Ma will some day walk down the lane and back into her life.

A voracious reader with a quick mind, Kya becomes a self-educated expert on marsh life. Her prodigious powers of observation, analytical skills and extensive specimen collections result in the publication of several books under her byline.

But she’s still alone. Solitary. Her self-imposed solitude is both a blessing and a curse.

Later, when the dead body of the town’s star quarterback and All American jerk, Chase Andrews, is found beneath a fire tower near the marsh, foul play is suspected. Kya is arrested and tried for murder. A handful of friends stand by her.

Marinaded in hauntingly beautiful, lyrical prose, Where the Crawdads Sing is a remarkable achievement. With its keen observations of nature and wildlife, Crawdads tells us as much about marsh life, ecology, and marine biology as it does human nature.

Lithe as a great blue heron and as luminescent as a Carolina sunset, Where the Crawdads Sing is a riveting tale of the human heart and its need for love, belonging, and connections. You can almost hear the gulls cawing. Taste the salt spray. And see the fireflies glow.

Two thumbs up.


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Why 2020 Is NOT a “New Decade” & Other Strokes of Brilliance

Everybody’s been saying “Happy New Year” or “Happy New Decade.” “Best of the Decade” lists pop up like dog biscuits after I do something  really, really clever. Like every nano-second.

But did January 1, 2020 actually mark the beginning of a new decade, or the last year of an old one? Mom and I looked into this. Sort of.

Here’s what some people have to say, via NBC15:

According to the U.S. Naval Observatory, the agency that maintains the country’s master clock, the new millennium began on Jan. 1, 2001.

Astronomical data also takes a similar course, beginning in 2001, 2011, and this time around, 2021.

But to others, that doesn’t change the fact that as a society we seemingly talk about decades starting with zeros and ending with nines. For instance, the 1990s seemed to last from 1990 until 1999.

Also see: When Does the New Decade Being: This Week, Or a Year From Now?

 

Julian dates and Merriam Webster and the Farmer’s Almanac? Why do humans have to make stuff so complicated? How ‘bout we all settle for a nice long walk and a milk bone?

Well. You know humans.

 

Here’s what Mom and I think:

1. A “decade” is 10 years, right?

2. So if a “decade” starts on zero, then it ends on zero, ten years later.

3. Which means the “zero” year is the final year of the decade.

4. Not the first year of a new one.

5. So save the “new decade” thing for 2021.

 

By the way. Did you notice our new look?

Mom and I spruced up our web site over the holidays. These are days when I get extra good stuff to eat and more treats! People laugh and dance a lot, too. They smile more. Why do they do this? Why don’t they laugh and dance and smile more every day instead of once a year? Well. You know humans.

Squirrel!

Now lemme see. Where was I?

Oh yeah. Our new web site. Did you notice we added a new banner? New theme and layout? New style and approach?

We even got a custom domain. We’re now officially Pages and Paws. (I’ve been bugging Mom about this since the 12th of Never. But you know Moms.)

 

We’re still making some changes. Updates. Revisions. Well, it’s mostly me. Mom helps a little. I mean, someone’s gotta keep track of meal times.

 

Anyway. We have lots of good stuff in the pipeline.

Like 13 Ways To ROCK Your 2020 Reading Challenge. Easy Super Bowl recipes. Delicious Valentine Pairings (books and food! Yum!). 16 Unforgettable Love Stories. 10 Most Romantic Movies of All Time. Ways to celebrate Read Across America day!

 

Oh yeah! I’m so excited!

 

So don’t be a stranger. C’mon in. Pull up a chair. Put your feet up and set a spell. Share a good book. Don’t forget to comment. (We love comments. But not as much as bacon.)

 

By the way again, can you eat “decades”? Askin’ for a friend!

 

Stay tuned!

XO,

Kimber

 


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A Simple Guide to 20-ish BEST Reads of 2019

Selection criteria for an annual “best of” list is kinda squishy, especially when it comes to books. We all have our fave authors, genres and styles, right? If a book made it onto my “best of” list, it had to include:

1. Rich, robust writing that’s a cut above.

2. A creative, clever plot that grabbed me by the throat and wouldn’t let go until The End. The story had to be powerful, poignant, or unusually memorable. Even better: all of the above.

3. Three dimensional characters that are lively, intriguing, and powerful. The type you don’t forget after you close the book.

4. Bonus points for a fresh approach on an old topic, a unique perspective, or inspiration as sound as sterling.

So here’s my totally unscientific, 100% subjective list of Best Reads of 2019. (Not every title on this list was published in 2019. It’s just the year I read it, okay?)

In no particular order, here are my top reads of 2019, by category:

MOST INSPIRING :

Bòrn Free: A Lioness of Two Worlds, Joy Adamson

My Pride and Joy: An Autobiography, George Adamson

The Winter Pony, Iain Lawrence

Tuesdays With Morrie, Mitch Ablom

The Tattooist of Auschwitz, Heather Morris

Lassie Come Home, Eric Knight

MOST CREATIVE & ORIGINAL:

One of Our Thursdays is Missing, Jasper Fforde

Flame in the Mist, Renee Adieh

The Penderwicks: A Summer Tale of 4 Sisters, 2 Rabbits, and a Very Interesting Boy – Jeanne Birdsall

Out of my Mind, Sharon Draper

Maze Runner, James Dashner

The Prey, Andrew Fukuda

I Am Still Alive, Kate Alice Marshall

A River Runs Through It, Norman Maclean. I’ve read this before, but I appreciated it more the second time through.

BEST HISTORICAL FICTION:

Sky in the Deep, Adrienne Young

At the Mountain’s Edge, Genevieve Graham

Making Bombs for Hitler, Stolen Girl, and The War Below, Marsha Skrypuch

BEST NARRATIVE NONFICTION:

Fatal Throne: The Wives of Henry VIII Tell All, Various

Spencer’s Mountain, Earl Hamner (A novel, but with a strong narrative voice)

‘NEW’ AUTHORS OF NOTE (In no particular order. List not exhaustive)

Will Hobbs

James Dashner

Genevieve Graham

Lauren Tarsis

BEST NON-FICTION

The Case Against Socialism, Rand Paul

The Library Book, Susan Orlean

No Safe Spaces – Dennis Prager, et.al.

FAITHFUL FAVES:

Max Lucado, Scott O’Dell, Gary Paulsen and Sarah Sund. Also Ingrid Paulson and Richard Paul Evans. Karen Kingsbury. Debbie Macomber. And I don’t think I’ve ever met a book I didn’t like by C.W. Anderson, Walt Morey, or Maurice Sendak.

I’m working on a TBR list for 2020. What do you recommend? Holler in the Comments!


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The Heart of Christmas

‘Wherever you are, no matter how far,

Come back to the heart, the heart of Christmas…

The heart of Christmas has a Name…’

Warmest wishes for a blessed Christmas and holiday season filled with love, laughter, and grace.

See you in 2020!


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How To Write a Killer Christmas Letter

Writing an annual Christmas letter is as seasonal as eggnog and mistletoe. Some Christmas letters have flair and panache. Others are like watching paint peel. How can you write a Christmas letter that’ll knock the socks of your family Saint Nick and make Rudolph’s nose dim?

Here are 12 tips for writing a killer Christmas letter:

1. Keep it short.

I’m talking one page. Preferrably just the front. The more loquacious you are, the less likely people are to read the whole thing.

People are busy, especially during the holidays. No one has time to read a Christmas epistle that’s a War and Peace wannabe. So keep it short and sweet.

2. Be yourself.

This may seem obvious. But it’s amazing how many people try to copy someone else’s style or voice. Don’t. People want to hear from you, not a clone.

3. If you include a photo, make sure you tie it in with the text of the letter. And caption it with the place, date, who’s featured and what they’re doing.

4. Mix it up.

If you used a first person narrative last year, try writing from another point of view. The kids? The dog? A neighbor?

5. Include humor.

Not everyone has an active funny bone. But most people like to laugh and enjoy some levity. Include some.

6. Choose a font that’s easy on the eyes.

I can’t tell you the number of times I gave up trying to read through fancy calligraphy or curliqued letters on steroids. It may look pretty. But if your type font is hard to read, few will.

Choose a standard font like Times Roman or Arial.

7. Handwrite the salutation and conclusion.

If you’re writing your letter on the computer and tucking it into an envelope, be sure to start it with, “Hello Bill and Marilyn” (or whatever). In handwriting.

Also hand write your conclusion and signature: “Merry Christmas from Jim and Eileen, Chad, Chloe, and Joey.”

It takes longer. But it’s more personal.

If you’re using an email delivery platform like Mail Chimp, you can customize the “To” field and do likewise.

8. Keep a list. Check it twice.

Staring at a blank piece of paper or screen and waiting for writing inspiration to strike can be intimidating. It’s helpful to keep a running list of key dates and events through the year.

If possible, jot them down real time. It’s a lot easier to just grab your list or review your calendar than it is trying to remember the last 11.5 months off the top of your head, without prompts.

9. Inclufe your contact info.

Make it easy for people to respond by including your address, email, phone, etc. In The Letter. You can do this in the footer of a Mail Chimp or in a regular email or hard copy letter.

10. Use white space generously

Resist the temptation to jam in as much copy as you can on a sheet of paper by cramming every available millimeter with type. It’s hard to read!

Instead, keep your paragraphs short. Indent for new paragraphs. Or better yet, double space between paragraphs.

Make sure margins are adequate. Choose Justify rather than ragged right for your right margin. It looks cleaner and more polished.

11. Put yourself in the recipient’s shoes.

What do you want to know? What will be of interest? Do I really care about your second cousin’s bunion surgery or the egg substitute you just discovered?

We all find ourselves fascinating. But try to write yiur update with an eye toward news that will resonate with and be interesting to your recipient(s). Think: What will my friends want to know about and what can they best relate to?

12. Draw the reader in.

This is key. It’s also rare, as most Christmas letters tend to be one-sided. Even self-centric.

Engage your reader by “pencilling in” a question specifically for them. How was vacation? The new job? Is Norbert coming home for Christmas?

You might also close with something like, “Please let us know what’s going on with you, too” or drawing attention to your contact contact info. so they can easily respond. (See above.)

If your budget allows, print up your letter on some Christmas-y stationery.

Well, that’s it. Now get those creative juices going and make this year’s Christmas letter the best ever!


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A Fine, Fair Day On Purpose

Are you chomping at the bit to dive into that roast turkey, snag some more mashed potatoes or grab more cranberry sauce or another slice of pie?  Maybe you’re wishing you’d quit while you could still waddle away from the Thanksgiving table semi-vertical.? If so, I’m gonna keep this short. (Well, kinda.)

Not to restate the obvious here or anything, but Thanksgiving is a day set aside to, uh… “give thanks.”  Count our blessings.  Lift our eyes off our self-soaked lives and look up to the Father of every good gift.

Fine. But is that what Thanksgiving has turned into – “giving thanks” by rote – because we’re supposed to?

Lord, have mercy.

So I have a proposition for ya. This year, when you’re working off that third slice of pumpkin pie you needed like a hole in the head, how ’bout determining to launch into “thanksgiving mode” year-round instead of just the last part of November?

Ready? Okay. I’ll start. I’m thankful for:

Continue reading →


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One Small Step…

“That’s one small step.”

Just four short words. Followed by a few more. And we recognize them instantly.

Public domain

Today is the 50th anniversary of one of the most notable achievements in human history: landing a man on the moon.

It’s remarkable. Transcendent. Historic.

I remember the day. I was nine years old.

Mom herded us kids into the living room to the old black and white stereo/console. “This is an historic event!” she exclaimed. “No one has ever done this before!”

“Done what?” I asked, not quite sure what all the hubbub was about.

“Neil Armstrong is about to walk on the moon!” Mom crowed, brown eyes flashing.

I had no idea who “Neil Armstrong” was.

But everything came to a standstill. I’ll never forget those grainy images from the moon. Armstrong’s iconic comments. Walter Cronkite whipping off his glasses and kind of shaking his head in awe, astonishment, and pride. My siblings and I watched, mouths agape, not fully comprehending the enormity of the moment. That took a few years. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CNE7Il3fs9M

What American astronauts and their team achieved on July 20, 1969, was, to put it mildly, an epic achievement. It set the gold standard of what good ‘ole American ingenuity, stick-to-it-iveness and know-how can accomplish.

It’s sometimes easy to lose sight of the fact that the Apollo 11 crew of Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin and Michael Collins were part of a bigger team. Like the entire crew at Mission Control in Houston. Thousands of additional employees and support personnel. Naval personnel who retrieved the space capsule after splashdown, etc.

All eyes were on the same ‘brass ring’: successfully landing a man on the moon. And bringing him home.

July 20, 1969

We did it. Beginning with a single small step.

You may not be headed to Tranquility Base. Or Fra Mauro. But what “small step” can you take today toward your ‘brass ring’? Maybe it’s:

  • Finding a new trail
  • Exploring a new park, beach, mountain, canyon, or desert
  • Losing weight
  • Getting more exercise
  • Eating healthier
  • Spending more time with family
  • Learning a new skill or hobby
  • Reaching out to a lonely neighbor
  • Start writing a book
  • Finish writing a book
  • Saying “I’m sorry”
  • Trying a new recipe, author, composer, or hair style
  • Planning for retirement
  • Offering or receiving forgiveness
  • Taking the first step to mend a broken relationship

A big goal for me this summer is exceeding last year’s high water mark related to our library’s annual Summer Reading Program. I read 156 books last summer. I just finished book #113.

I’m on target to meet my goal. But I may need to hit the after-burners. One book – one page – one paragraph, sentence and small step – at a time.

One page at a time…

What’s today’s “small step” for you?

Image credit – Moon Landing. NASA. Public Domain.   This post also appears on my sister site, Hiker Babe.


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“Born Free”: Timeless and Transcendent After All These Years

Have you ever re-discovered a book from your childhood that still has the power to move and profoundly impact you, even a half century after your initial read? If so, then you’ve found a true classic.

Pinterest

Joy Adamson’s Born Free: A Lioness of Two Worlds is such a book.

Evocative and compelling, Born Free is the remarkable true story of Elsa, an orphaned lion cub raised by Joy Adamson and her husband, George. At its core, Born Free is a love story. With great sensitivity and precision, Adamson chronicles the mutual affection and bond between a magnificent lioness and the humans who loved her enough to release her to the Kenyan wilds where she was free born.

It’s probably the most moving and inspiring “animal story” I’ve ever read.

Joy Adamson wrote three books about African lions: Born Free, Living Free, and Forever Free. I read them all. Born Free is my favorite.

I first read Born Free in 1969, nine years after it was first published. I was in the fifth grade. Entranced, I read it over and over. There’s something timeless and transcendent about the story that’s difficult to put into words.

I lost track of Adamson and Elsa over the years. But I never forgot the extraordinary story of a free born lioness and the humans who loved her. I recently located a library copy of Born Free. Finally.

Elsa and “Born Free” author Joy Adamson.

Opening the Forward to the Fortieth Anniversary Edition (2000), I was startled to learn that Joy Adamson was stabbed to death by a disgruntled former employee in 1980. The news hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt like I’d lost a best friend I’d never met. So it was with a mixed sense of sadness and reverence that I sat in a sun-soaked living room in a far corner of the Olympic Peninsula nearly thirty years after that sad event and re-opened a book that profoundly impacted my life, especially with regard to animals.

Lavishly illustrated with black and white photographs, Elsa’s story is still an unforgettable one. So is Adamson’s prodigious writing talent. Her breezy, bucolic style recalls another formidable literary talent who writes so evocatively about her life in Kenya: Isak Dinesen. Like Dinesen, Adamson’s descriptions of her life as the wife of a senior game warden in East Africa have a luminous quality that is almost melodic.

My favorite photo from the book. Joy Adamson and Elsa.

I read Born Free cover to cover in one sitting. Here’s a key line, from page 109:

“Her (Elsa’s) good-natured temperament was certainly due in part to her character, but part too may have come from the fact that neither force nor frustration was ever used to adapt her to our way of life. For we tried by kindness alone to help her to overcome the differences that lie between our two worlds.”

The Adamsons and Elsa succeed beyond all expectations.

Re-reading the last chapter, The Final Test, the same intense sense of sadness and loss these pages evoked in me five decades ago bubbled up again from some deep internal well. It was as if Elsa and her human pride had never left, patiently waiting 50 years for my return to their story.

Recording Elsa’s success in finding her own wild pride and mate, Adamson writes:

“We returned to camp alone, and very sad. Should we leave her now, and so close a very important chapter of our lives?”

The Adamsons decide to wait “a few more days” to make sure Elsa has been accepted by the pride.

In the final elegiac paragraph, Adamson returns to her “studio” by the river to continue writing the story of Elsa, “who had been with us until this morning.” Sad to be alone, the author writes that she tries to make herself happy “by imagining that at this very moment Elsa was rubbing her soft skin against another lion’s skin and resting with him in the shade, as she had often rested here with me.”

I cried. Again.

And that, friends, is the mark of a true classic.

 

 

Elsa on Camp Bed Photo Credit


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Anacondas & Oracles

“Where in the world is Anaconda, Montana?” Mom asks me, peering over her reading glasses.

Do I look like an oracle?

“Wait…” She starts tapping away on the hand-held shiny thingy. Mumbles something about “Googling.”

“Looks like it’s in southwest Montana. Kind of near Butte.”

I have no clue what that means. Do you? Well, Mom’s smiling. She must be pleased with herself. So I’m pleased, too. Can you see my tail wagging?

“What’s up with Anaconda and Montana?” you ask. Well, ya, see, Mom just finished a book she’s been looking to re-read for a long, long time. Not a single library in our entire state carried it. She had to order it through Inter-Library Loan.  I don’t what that means. Sounds like a hassle.

Anyway, her long-looked-for book finally showed up. From one of those book places in Anaconda, Montana. I still don’t know what that means. But Mom finished all 247 pages of that book in one day. So it must’ve been good.

What was it? Oh. You mean the title? Spencer’s Mountain. Published in 1961. By Earl Hamner, Jr. You know, The Waltons guy. Only in this book, it’s not Walton’s Mountain. It’s Spencer’s Mountain. The family patriarch is Clay Spencer. His oldest son is Clay-Boy. Not John. And not John Boy.

But Mom really loves this story about a large family growing up poor in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. They made a movie out of it in 1963. With somebody called Henry Fonda as Clay Spencer. And another someone called Maureen O’Hara as Olivia Spencer, the mom. Some guy name “James MacArthur” plays Clay Boy.

“The movie closely parallels the book,” observes Mom. Even including the Rockfish River, Hickory Creek, and Charlottesville. Of course, the names of all the children are different than in the TV Waltons. But that’s another story.

Speaking of stories, have you ordered your copy of Mom’s latest book? It’s a little bit like this Spencer thing: The Small Things: What ‘The Waltons’ Taught Me About Writing & More.

Find out more at Shushes, Small Things & Plain Vanilla.

Arf! Arf!