As we prepare for a heatwave here in Healdsburg (you would think it was the end of the world the way people start talking about it days beforehand), I’m actually quite enjoying the unusually warm evenings, spent reading on my porch.
“Porch sitting” is a hobby that I cultivated during my year in Bra. Well, I say porch, but really I had some surface area blocked in by planter boxes where I would keep my bicycle and sit, attracting the gaze and curiosity of my Italian neighbors as I plowed through book after book from the amazing UNISG library.
No surprise, my coffee table pile is filled with plenty of food-related books, including:
Salad for President
Anyone who knows me well knows that I love everything and anything about this whole concept. I love the button I got at Food Book Fair, I love the chapter titles (such as “Salad in Sweatpants: Casual Meals for People Who Already Love You), you name it. Do I have plans to actually make any of the salads inside? Not really. But I’m following along on Instagram with author Julia Sherman’s creative and scrumptious book tour across the country on Instagram.
I have a semi-photographic memory, which I called on back in the day to remember the position on the page where I had read something in a textbook. Last summer, I remember reading the Middlebury Magazine and seeing the cover of The Girls inside, as the author is a fellow alumna. Looking for an easy breezy covergirl kind of summer read a few weeks ago, I looked it up, and realized that Cline grew up in Sonoma County, and mentions Petaluma quite a bit. I finished the book in two sittings. A perfect page-turner for the beach, or in my case, the porch.
Theft by Finding
About a month ago, I scored surprise, last-minute, free (!) tickets from a friend to go hear a reading from David Sedaris’ journals from a 30 year span. I can only imagine what it will be like for me to go back and read my journals in 40 years from now! Sedaris is hilarious to the point that he will make you cry and also an engaging reader. I cracked the cover on this one last night and it’s a bit jarring to read someone else’s diary. Stay tuned.
I haven’t gotten to this one yet, but it’s next up in my queue. I cruised through Roxane Gay’s previous book, Bad Feminist, on a quick day trip to LA filled with lots of time in airports and Ubers.
Here’s to a summer hopefully filled with lots (and lots) of time spent reading at the beach, accompanied by the sound of the waves (and screaming children).