That would be E. Phillips Oppenheim’s The Ostrekoff Jewels. It looks so detached and above us, doesn’t? Rather lofty in a hazy, dreamy way. But in reality the book was hilarious. It wasn’t meant to be, it’s an action novel writtin in the 1930s, and it takes itself rather seriously. But I laughed so hard through it that I ended up reading the whole thing, even though every other chapter would leave me shaking my head in disbelief at the characters, or the writing in general. The latter was very dated – which isn’t usually a bad thing, but is here because it reminded me of a blend of G. A. Henty (the bane of all homeschoolers) and Carolyn Keene (that schizophrenic women, the author I admired most – right up until I realized she didn’t really exist). The world it was set in, the then present day, was dated too, but this was a definite plus. Who doesn’t want to read about a world where ready to wear clothes can be spotted a mile away, even by guys?
The plot is summed up best by the main character, Wilfred Haven, as resembling a “Broadway melodrama.” I’m not even going to summarize it (I would come off as a little unhinged, I think, and my reputation can’t support that), but it involves Russian civil war, Royal Jewels, Mistaken identity, Double agents, a Marriage proposal, and the Tossing of Captors out of a Plane. The marriage proposal was the most ridiculous thing (well, the action was bad too, but since my experience with action writing is limited to the aforementioned G. A. Henty and the Alex Rider series, I’ll leave it alone). It consisted of Wilfred saying, in effect “I have no idea who you really are, except I’m pretty sure you’re a spy for the red army and have been using me all this time with the sole objective of relieving me of my jewels, which you stole and refuse to return, but none of this matters because something about saving your life in Russia and almost dying together on a Polish plane has made me fall in love with you. Seeing you stab that guy didn’t hurt either. Shall we get hitched?”
As Wilfred’s private investigator puts it (yes, there was a P.I. too), “An Amazing story.”

This book was given to me by my grandfather, who is probably most responsible for my love of old books. He gave it to me quite a few years ago, along with another Oppenheim, but I didn’t read them then because I was going off to college. So they were duly packed away in boxes with my other books and I only got them out again a few weeks ago. I’m trying to place all my books into Booxter, which has been really fun. I didn’t realize before how many I had, and I’m starting to worry about culling the herd a bit, which is a little depressing. At the risks of sounding materialistic I will admit I love simply handling books, especially the old ones which all have two or three different names written on their endpapers. The Ostrekoff Jewels, for instance, was given to “My Dear Friend, Dorothy” as a Christmas present in 1932 by Mary, who had what has to be the nicest handwriting I have ever seen. Forty years later this little note was penned in it

   “For David

4-74

                     Mother”

And then, of course, there’s my own name there now, to show to its future readers that I too was part of this book’s history.

Dear Theo,


It’s not like this is the first time we’ve been parted. Certainly it won’t be the last, right? . . . . RIGHT? Anyway, I don’t think it’s possible that you will forget me, but I believe in playing it safe. I want to be with you in some way, not just as a fading memory, but as a fellow traveler who happens to be taking a slightly different route. I want you to still laugh with me (or at me, because I’d rather you do that than somebody else. At least then it will be a fair exchange of mockery), still roll your eyes, or give me your perspective off-handily – not realizing I could never have seen it like that in a thousand years. You won’t be able to point out the little oddities for me anymore – the colors, the inclusive ‘or’s, the fan in iRobot – and  I won’t be able to torture you with my poetry (at least, not as effectively). But we can still touch, here, still brush past each other, say hello, ask if the rats are still alive.

Love,
Your sister

A Hat?* 

Finally a Finished Object! (an FO, in craft speak). This hat only took two days to knit up, and  I probably could have done it in one if I were super crazy (I’m not, I’ve always been just plain batty). I finished it Wednesday and have been wearing it everyday since then. This basically means “around the house” – I don’t get out much. But I did get to stroll down to the park in it, and I wore it over to a friend’s house. All her siblings (from the five year old up, Surprisingly enough, to the fourteen-year old boy) thought it was a “cool hat” and were duly allowed to try it on (okay, well, not the fourteen year old).

Stat Time:

Finishing something was such a great feeling that I started working on my knee socks. The ones I started  waaaaay back. Yes, I’m still on the first one. Yes, I knit slow. But I’ve started the calf increases so I can’t be that far from the finish. One of the other projects I vowed to undertake this summer was sewing. I started on a skirt before going on The Road Trip, but lack of interfacing for the waist band lead to it being set aside. I now have interfacing, not to mention more fabric, so hopefully it will be finished before the week is out. It’s Butterick 6550, view E if your interested. It has pockets, which all my currents skirts are in desperate need of, and incorporates a fun front pleat. The pattern is from my mom’s collection, but I may end up stealing it permanently.
I’m also half way through Simplicity 2364 in a gorgeous blue cotton knit. Halfway for a second time, since, in a tragic example of beginner’s bliss, I began the shirt in the same un-stretchy cotton I’m using for my skirt. This time around I can actually put the shirt on without dislocating a shoulder. All it needs is the sleeves and some fitting (which I’ll probably mess up, but hopefully in an educational way).

That’s all for finishing, or almost all. My siblings and I, in another vain attempt to up our waning geekiness, are trying to play D&D and I’m in charge of making the dungeons, so this afternoon I’ll be calculating the worth of various gems and magical items.

Emeralds of Owlish Wisdom: + 3 to all craft related experience rolls.

* “What’s that? A hat? A crazy, funk, junky hat. Overslept, hair unsightly, tryin’ to look like Kiera Knightly. We’ve been there, we’ve done that, we see right through your funky hat.” And if you’re sniggering because you know where this quote comes from, HA! You are no more innocent than I.

Clouds in my while stopping for coffee

This Thursday I was blessed to be able to spend time with one of my dear friends from college. My dad, who loves to spoil his family’s enjoyment of restaurant food, made fried catfish, and fried shrimp (battered in flour and old bay) the first night, and grilled Lamb and potatoes the second  (with a lovely tomato and mozzarella salad as a side). The excuse for this trip was the Smithsonian Museum.  After visiting it again on Thursday I can’t help wondering how I ever walked through three museums with four children last year. To give you an idea of how exhausting this trip was, my friend and I arrived at L’Enfant station (a fairly close metro) at around nine-thirty, and boarded the smithsonian metro at around six or seven. That’s ten hours of walking. We spent around three hours in both the Natural History Museum and the American History Museum. Each. This is not to mention the time we first spent wandering around the Castle and the Air and Space Museum (is their synonym for museum?). Despite this, we didn’t see everything in any of the buildings, even though they were ever so much emptier than last year – a testament, I suppose, to the difference that a looming school year can make on people’s calenders.

But there are many things which make a little effort worth while, and most of them were experinced on Thursday. Not only did my friend and I get a chance to catch up, laugh, and buy hotdogs from a street vendor, but the exhibts were delightful too. We saw the “Read My Pins” exhibt, about Former Secratary of State Madeleine Albright’s use of jewerly in diplomacy; walked through the in depth display of mineral formations and precious gems; ooh-ed and aah-ed over the gorgeous (and sometimes outrageous) gowns of America’s First Ladies; and generally reveled in the trivia that abounded.

Which makes me feel rather better about being unemployed

The trip was especially nice considering it was threatening to flood up until nine (hence the first picture), when it miraculously cleared to become the sunniest, muggiest day any Marylander could (mistakenly) hope for. Of course, the pretty outfits we had planned out had been abandoned by this point, so we tramped around the Mall a little more disheveled than we would have liked to have been: I in my heavy corduroy skirt, for blocking the damp, and she in her practical tennis shoes. Then, at the end of the day, just as we were purchasing tickets, the rain started up again.

Ah, Providence.

See? No need for that umbrella at all