It is
February--without a doubt, my least favorite month of the year. And, although
this year I was bound and determined that I would busy myself and just give it
and the calendar an occasional passing glance, I found that one can only polish
the appliances and wash the light bulbs so many times before a little
distraction sets in--even the glorious gift of time to write wasn't enticing me
to stay at the keyboard as often as I normally would like.
One afternoon as I was dusting the bookshelf in my basement office, I came across an old book that my mom had given me long ago, Betty Macdonald's Onions in the Stew. I'm not sure if it was given to my mom from my Grandma Lois, if it was a flea market find or a Bingo prize, but I had let it season on the shelf for a good while. And now the time seemed ripe to give it a read. I had, the week earlier, started to read The Sound and the Fury, that light-hearted little ditty by Faulkner. I waded molasses-slow through the first few pages, only to declare that I was at an age where I didn't have to read what didn't appeal to me, no matter how classic...this one was tossed in the bag to head to Goodwill for the next poor book-loving sap. So, I poured a cup of coffee and sat down in my comfy chair to give Betty's book a try.
A tear-wiping,
rib-aching half hour later, I
reluctantly sat the book down to get supper started. When a spare moment popped
up, I went back to the book. I haven't laughed this hard for a long, long time.
I haven't been this entertained by an author for even longer than that.
Betty Macdonald has
a way of telling a story that makes writing look easy (although those of us who
struggle in the attempt know how diligently she worked). Sadly, she only lived
to be fifty years old; according to Wikipedia, she died of cancer at this young
age. Yet, within that short span of
time, she wrote some great stuff--including the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle series and The Egg and I, which inspired the Ma and Pa
Kettle movie series (again, from Wikipedia).
Of course, she
writes earnestly and hilariously about herself, her family, and her neighbors,
so it netted her some trouble along the way with the occasional law suit and
hurt feelings (brutal honesty can be rough--and once again, a nod to Wikipedia
for my vast knowledge of this lady's life).
Political
correctness or not, I say a very large thank you to Betty Macdonald for
allowing me, on a day like today when February is still looming, the
appliances are already
shiny, and the freezing rain has now turned into massive snow flakes outside my
door, to ignore it all and escape to
Vashon Island and all its over-grown, malfunctioning, and generally hilarious
environs.
The lightbulb washing can wait.
