Then again, cuteness is my kryptonite.
Sunday, April 30, 2023
The Puth is Out There
Tuesday, April 25, 2023
Dunder Mifflin Tiff? As If! The Office BFFs Put it all Down on Paper
Sunday, April 23, 2023
Dying of Dysentery and Laughter: Finally Found My Rodeo Clown
Wednesday, April 19, 2023
A Heaping, Heartland Helping of Miracle Grip
I'd never read anything by Elizabeth Berg. But there was something about the hard copy of Night of Miracles, priced to sell at $7.97, that gripped me. Still, it sat on my bookshelf for six months, horizontally with the other still-to-be-read titles, as is often the case with authors I don't know, stranger danger being what it is. But last week I thought, okay, no new books until you read this. So I did.
Night of Miracles, as it turns out, is a novel about the ordinary and extraordinary people who live in Mason, Missouri. There's Lucille, the nearly ninety retired schoolteacher who now teaches the town to bake. And Tiny, the enormous and kind cab driver in love with Monica, the waitress who serves him his double orders of pigs in a blanket. And Iris, the Boston transplant trying to mend her broken heart. And Abby, Jason, and Lincoln, the little family that moves next door to Lucille. It's a beautiful book and reminds me of Fannie Flagg, full of small-town Missouri magic. In fact, on the back cover Flagg herself says that "Elizabeth Berg's characters jump right off the page and into your heart." Even this book's ode to unhealthy eating is charming, as if cakes can ward off cancer more effectively than veganism. That's not just me being cute, but something that kind of sort of happened. It's a real testament to the power of tasty food, no matter how artery clogging, when it's made with love. It's like Berg is telling us to let go of the rules and enjoy life while we're living it. Which is poignant in the way that all salt-of-the-earth, clean kind of sad stories are.
When it ended, I added the rest of Berg's books to my reading list. Because a writer who can whip up such a miracle of a read must have a casserole of a canon.
And I very much heart casseroles.
Sunday, April 16, 2023
Spring Fling: No Small Feat
Spring is the best. There are few things more uplifting than seeing the first daffodil after the snow or the first day you realize that you can wear short sleeves and sandals. They're magical, those firsts, because they mean that the world's waking up. But the thing about that is that sometimes waking up's hard to do.
Every spring, I drag my feet about giving myself a pedicure. I put it off as long as I can, covering my unsightly toes in flats or cowboy boots on those rare days when I venture out to run errands. Maybe you're thinking, come on, your feet can't be that bad. But they are. I've been wearing heels for more than twenty-five years, and all that abuse takes a toll. That said, the thing that puts a stop to my procrastination is my annual dermatologist visit. If I don't want to look at my untamed tootsies, then I certainly don't want my doc looking at them, because really, isn't her job hard enough? So soon it'll be pumice and polish time, my cuticles camouflaged by a thick coat of crimson, a.k.a. Cherries in the Snow. And once I'm done, I'll think not too bad, and wonder what all the fuss was about.
So thanks, Revlon, for taking the bummer -- if not the bunions -- out of summer.
Wednesday, April 12, 2023
From Nostalgia to Now: Election Connection
Saturday, April 8, 2023
Easter Dresses and Tresses: Not a Hare Out of Place
This title is a lie. There are many hares -- and hairs -- out of place in this post, starting with my messy mop peering through that tulip wreath. But then, imperfection counts as its own kind of theme. Speaking of which, you know how Minnie Pearl wore her hats with the tags on? Well, I kept the tags on, not my hats, but my bunnies. Because they're not my bunnies after all, but Easter gifts for my nieces.
So, it's not a shoot worthy of Vogue or Good Housekeeping. But that's okay, because, as you know, we're all a little mad here at The Tote Trove.
And I wouldn't hat have it any other way.
Wednesday, April 5, 2023
Giving Pants and France a Chance
It's true. I'm taking on trousers and the land of croissants. My pink pants are even from the French-sounding brand Vylette -- although that label has gone the way of the guillotine. No matter. I went the extra mile for Francophile style with my Enchanted Eiffel Necklace (because what's the City of Lights sans unicorn?) and my micro review of Jenn McKinlay's Paris is Always a Good Idea.