A simple autobiography that records, so far, a few of the authors joys, disappointments, insecurities, triumphs, and turning points that collectively became the nuts and bolts of her life and which she wrote with the sole intent that it would inform, intrigue, and perhaps inspire some of her future descendants to become writers themselves. An old-fashioned reminiscence and an affectionate evocation of the authors ongoing satisfaction with her life.
Judith Viorst returns with more poems in her “Decades” poetry series detailing the highs and lows of being an octogenarian. Continuing the comedic insight from I’m Too Young to be Seventy, these verses of memories and advice from eighty years of love, marriage, and grandchildren are sure to bring laughs. What does it mean to be eighty? In her wise and playful poems, Judith Viorst discusses love, friendship, grand parenthood, and all the particular marvels—and otherwise—of this extraordinary decade. She describes the wonder of seeing the world with new eyes—not because of revelation but because of a successful cataract operation. She promises not to gently fade away, and not to drive after daylight’s faded away either. She explains how she’s gotten to be a “three-desserts” grandmother (“Just don’t tell your mom!”), shares how memory failure can keep you married, and enumerates her hopes for the afterlife (which she doesn’t believe in, but if it does exist, her sister-in-law better not be there with her). As Viorst gleefully attests, eighty is not too old to dream, to flirt, to drink, and to dance. It’s also not too late to give up being cheap or to take up with a younger man of seventy-eight. Zesty, hopeful, and full of the pleasures of living, Viorst’s poems speak to her legions of readers, who recognize themselves in her knowing observations, in her touching reflections, and in her joyful affirmations. Funny, moving, inspirational, and true—the newest in Judith Viorst’s beloved “decades” series extols the virtues, victories, frustrations, and joys of life.
The newest illustrated poetry collection in beloved author Judith Viorst’s “decade” series (from It’s Hard to Be Hip Over Thirty to Unexpectedly Eighty), exploring, with her signature savvy and humor, what it means to be an impending nonagenarian. In Nearing Ninety, bestselling author Judith Viorst candidly shares the complicated joys and everyday tribulations that await us at the age of ninety, all with a large dose of humor and an understanding that nothing—well, almost nothing—in life should be taken too seriously. While she struggles to make it to midnight on New Year's Eve, while she’s starting to hear more eulogies than symphonies, while she’ll forever be disheartened by what she weighs (and forever unable to stop weighing herself), there is plenty to cherish at ninety: hanging out with the people she loves. Playing a relentless game of Scrabble. And still sleeping tush-to-tush with the same man to whom she’s been married for sixty years. Accompanied by Laura Gibson’s whimsical illustrations, Nearing Ninety’s amusing and touching reflections make this collection relatable to readers of all ages. With the wisdom and spunk of someone who’s seen it all, Viorst gently reminds us that everybody gets old, and that the best medicine at any age is laughter.
The lives of twenty-four American aviators became forever intertwined in the skies over Ploesti, Rumania, in 1944, when a pair of bomber crews, an aerial photographer, and a fighter pilot engaged in some of the deadliest air battles the world had ever known. The odds of surviving these almost-daily encounters were somewhere between slim and none. Yet, by some miracle, many of these brave and courageous airmen lived through the horrific campaigns and returned home as conquering heroes. Blown to Bits: 20,000 Feet over Ploesti shares the story of these two dozen American aviators who were shot out of the skies over Nazi-occupied Europe. Considerable material was extracted from national archives in order to document the individual accounts. Author Leon Cooper traveled across the country to interview the remaining survivors and also communicated with family members of the others, who provided a wealth of photos, documents, and stories. Discover an amazing chapter in American history through the firsthand accounts of the men who lived through these harrowing events. Their story is intriguing, tragic, and exciting, but the ending is nothing less than miraculous!
Former poet laureate of the United States Donald Hall’s final collection of essays, from the vantage point of very old age, once again “alternately lyrical and laugh-out-loud funny.”* *(New York Times) “Why should a nonagenarian hold anything back?” Donald Hall answers his own question in these self-knowing, fierce, and funny essays on aging, the pleasures of solitude, and the sometimes astonishing freedoms arising from both. Nearing ninety at the time of writing, he intersperses memories of exuberant days in his youth, with uncensored tales of literary friendships spanning decades—with James Wright, Richard Wilbur, Seamus Heaney, and other luminaries. Cementing his place alongside Roger Angell and Joan Didion as a generous and profound chronicler of loss, this final work is as original and searing as anything Hall wrote during his extraordinary literary lifetime.
An immigrant journey from Ireland to Australia in the early 1900s, along threads of love, family, war and peace, Wild Chicory is a slice of ordinary life rich in history, folklore and fairy tale. And it’s a portrait of the precious relationship between a granddaughter, Brigid, and her grandmother, Nell. From the windswept, emerald coast of County Kerry, to the slums of Sydney's Surry Hills; and from the bitter sectarian violence of Ulster, to tranquillity of rural New South Wales, Brigid weaves her grandmother's tales into a small but beautiful epic of romance and tragedy, of laughter and the cold reality of loss. It's tales, tall and true, that spur Brigid to write her own, too. Ultimately, here is a story of finding your feet in a new land – be that a new country, or a new emotional space – and the wonderful trove of narrative each of us carries with us wherever we might go.
In the early years of this century, Burnside, Kentucky, was a bustling community perched on and above the floodplain formed by the Cumberland River and the South Fork. It was a center for shipping by rail and steamboat packet, and its lumber mills sent their products all over the world. The lower part of the town—once the heart of its economic being—now lies beneath the waters of Lake Cumberland, and the remaining streets above no longer resound with the clatter and roar of older and busier times. Harriet Simpson Arnow moved to Burnside with her parents and sisters in 1913, a few months before her fifth birthday. She recreates for us the sights and sounds of the town as she sets her childhood memories against the history of the region from the days of early settlers until Wolfe Creek Dam was built, creating the hundred-mile-long Lake Cumberland. Arnow charms the reader with her account of what it was like to be child in such a place and time, describing the fascination of the general stores of the town, the grand sight of the Seven Gables Hotel, the excitement of school, and the ever-interesting river and railroad traffic, all of which lent diversion to a life that sometimes seemed overburdened with household chores and errand running. Though much of old Burnside has disappeared, the way of life Arnow describes is an important part of the fabric of the history of Kentucky and the nation. Evoking vivid scenes of river and railroad, lumber mill and country store, Arnow recreates for us with great artistry a long-vanished place and time.
Assembles evidence from Frankish, Moravian, and Byzantine documents; from archaeological finds; and details of the terrain to buttress the view that the center of the Slavic Moravian empire was in what is now Serbia, much farther southeast than is usually thought. This interpretation explains how the Franks managed otherwise inexplicable military successes against the Moravians.
