interlude

I am on vacation -- an actual vacation, I am in another city, sitting in the living room of our airBnB while the rest of my family sleeps in the various bedrooms. I should most likely sleep too, but I do not feel much like it; it is not so very late, really, but on the other hand I have been getting very little sleep so far. It has been a good vacation, a superlative vacation, simply to be in this city (one of my two favourite cities in the world which sounds as though I have sampled many, which I have not) and to see all the things new and different and also familiar from my many visits from before my children were born -- that is very good in itself. But it is also good to have this long stretch of time with my family in which I am not having to navigate them through their days or push myself through my own; there are none of the ordinary tasks to be done, it is just choosing what we would like that works for everyone. Thus far it has been quite a lot of time at the zoo, a trip to a big bookstore, much good food (sushi, waffles, fancy doughnuts, an absolutely decadent macaroni and cheese tonight that had both pork belly and asparagus), some very nice hard ciders (one with fir tips approached sublime, and another was a mix of apples, pumpkin and sweet potato which caught fall perfectly in the colour and scent and taste)... and something I was not expecting, time such as this where I may listen to Spotify and type, or read, and have a feeling of more ample space than I am used to. I suppose that is much of what a family vacation is, the break from the usual demands of life so as to be more deeply together, but this is the first time my children have been old enough (and our relationships both to one another and to our spouse solid enough) that it feels truly like a change rather than like moving most of the demands with me as I go. It is sweet and I am glad of it and I am also feeling already that ache that it will end, even knowing that I would not really want it unending -- but maybe to stay in this city, yes, where it is green instead of sun-bleached yellow-tan and there is water in the air and trees upon trees everywhere. It will be hard to say goodbye.

Reading -- I have just discovered Margery Sharp, rediscovered really, as I tried her some time back (10 years? 15?) and did not appreciate her at all. I am not certain I will like all of them, but I enjoyed The Flowering Thorn very much as a fantasy; it would not have worked if I had taken the child as an actual child, but as a plot token for our heroine to quit being a Bright Young Thing and learn to love a domestic life in the country he worked very well. And it is a remarkably self-sufficient domestic life -- she is responsible to and for the child, but it is really about her finding her own ground, making real friendships and creating a home that satisfies her own desires, without much reference to men past or future. I was surprised at the lack of romance in the book, but not displeased; I only hope Sharp has written some others in a similar vein because I would hate to have found my favourite already. It is the perfect autumn book for me; this is the time of year when I want the reinforcement of what I already know, descrptions of the changing beauties of country landscape (even if I am living somewhere dry and hot and nothing like my fantasies), some pleasure in domestic routine, bringing order to chaos, a certain respect for self-control and getting the job done, a belief in community and responsibilities to it but also moments of beauty and joy. When Sharp's heroine stops to stare at a beautiful sky, or listens to Bach, it makes me want to stop in my own routine to look and listen, to appreciate the life around me, and at this time of year I am very thirsty for that. So I will read much Sharp, and perhaps revisit some Thirkell (if only her politics did not become more and more abhorrent as time went on) and even some Miss Read, and sometime in November or December I will feel satisfied and start to want to be challenged and stimulated and have my horizons opened up more and then I will start waiting eagerly for the Tournament of Books shortlist and looking at new releases and going back through things I am putting aside right now and will inevitably be amazed at how much my reading moods change over the year.