Acquisitions

I bought three brand-new shiny young adult books this month, and I plan to keep all of them for myself. That almost never happens. But I couldn't resist:

Asking for It by Louise O'Neill,  because Only Ever Yours really was that good. I imported this one.

Most Dangerous by Steven Sheinkin. After hearing the Pentagon Papers bandied about as the whistleblower touchstone in ALA Council chambers, I felt I needed to know more, and Sheinkin is never boring. Now I sort of have a crush on Daniel Ellsburg.

Dumplin' by Julie Murphy, because the ARC rocked my world and I wanted that adorable pre-order pin. Murphy will be in Nashville for the Southern Festival of Books next week, so I'm determined to shower her with the praise she so rightly deserves.

The greatest generation

My husband has some remarkable longevity in his family. Until just a handful of years ago, all of his grandparents were still living. The second of his grandfathers died last week at home. It was expected, but still difficult.

Harry was crazy athletic and physically active well into his late eighties, had served in the South Pacific theater (Guadalcanal), and was one of the first Marines to work with the nascent technology that would become radar. I never knew either of my grandfathers, but since I've been married for almost twenty years, Harry and my other late grandfather-in-law, Barry, filled those roles for me. They were funny, smart and unflaggingly supportive.

Harry was the archetypal patriarch, and a role model for us all. I feel especially fortunate to be a member of such a loyal and expansive extended family through marriage. Now, we will all worry about and dote upon his widow, left alone after seventy years. Hers is a position that seems both incredibly fortunate and incredibly difficult.