Sunday Funnies

Margie: I'm calling Cousin T right now to bring me a squirrel! I'm going to make this and give it to Edna for Christmas.

Read A Book Day

Margie: Edna, you know how I feel about books and people reading them. It helps your vocabulary and takes you to other times and places. It's fun and educational too.

Here are some books I picked out for you to read. It's not reading when you look at fashion magazines or read about the latest celebrity news!

Edna: Margie, I am tired of you putting down my reading material! I am not so frivolous that all I ever read are those horrible gossip rags. (And, might I point out, I saw Cousin T bring you that National Enquirer the last time he was here. So don't you go pointing fingers at me.)

Why are you bringing this up now?

Margie: Edna, I was at my book club meeting last night and some of the ladies asked why you never attend. They snickered and somebody said you only looked at picture books.

I want to help you so you're not the butt of so many jokes.

Edna: Don't try and pull that helpful sister act with me. I could care less what the "ladies" in your book club think of me and my reading habits, Miss Smarty-Pants. But, if I did care, you could very easily put those unfounded allegations to rest by telling them that I have a stack of books on my nightstand a foot high. And you know perfectly well that I check a bag of books out the library every week.

But I don't have to defend myself to them or to you. I know what I like to read, and how often I like to read, and that's that.

Margie: Edna, leave it to you to be critical of my life's work of trying to get more young people to read. As usual, you care only about yourself and what you do.

You put that stack of books there to flatten out those old love letters you claim you got during the war.

Edna: Well good night nurse, you are plumb driving me to distraction! Who was criticizing your life's work? You're the one who brought up the ladies of your book club and said that they were snickering at me behind my back, I was just defending myself. I'm all for encouraging young people to read, you nitwit.

Honestly, I can't talk to you any more today, I'm retiring to my room with my smelling salts and a book. You're on your own, sister.


"Read a Book Day is today. Take time out of your busy life, and relax with a good book."

Fox's Earth

Margie: Edna would have you believe she's the only one who enjoys reading but she isn't. She recently wrote a book report about a book she'd read but I'm writing a review. Edna thinks she's still a schoolgirl.

This is my favorite book and I've read a plenty. You'll love this one too.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Anne Rivers Siddons has written a riveting novel about obsession, power, and manipulation. (No, the book is not about Edna). The main character is Ruth Yancey. Ruth is the daughter of an insane father who preaches and abuses his wife and a mother who believes Ruth is destined for great things. Ruth's mother tells her that her feminine sexuality is Ruth's way out of abuse and poverty.

One day, Ruth spies the Georgia mansion owned by the wealthy Fox family. It's called "Fox's Earth" and decides she will have it. Eventually, she wins the heart of Paul Fox whose parents own the house. She ensnares him as well as his parents. Ruth then begins to transform herself into a true Southern belle with proper manners. The uneducated Ruth is left behind and the new Ruth is a sadist who intends to rule Fox's Earth. Ruth's is a story of greed, madness and murder.

She manipulates her husband and in-laws and begins a campaign to gain complete control over all who live in Fox's Earth.(Guess Edna gave her lessons). The best part of the story is about the relationship Ruth has with her children and grandchildren and with her servant, Rip.

As Ruth's grandchildren grow older, Ruth finds herself losing her control. Ruth cannot lose control so becomes more dangerous.(Think Edna and her sword).

I cannot possibly do justice to this book here. It spans decades and it is incredible. It is also the only book I have read more than twice. Take my word for it and read it for yourself.

Edna reviews Duma Key

You know, I’ve been a fan of Mr. Stephen King for a very long time. That young man writes a mighty fine story, and he surely does know how to put the scare into someone. And I was so happy to hear that he survived the recent nuclear unpleasantness; I guess maybe they didn’t set off any bombs up there in Maine near him.

Well, I read that new book he published, Duma Key. It surely was a heavy thing, my poor old hands could barely hold it. I had to drink an extra cup of special tea whenever I put that book down because my rheumatism would act up something fierce. But while Mr. King may be a wordy young man, he does seem to know what he’s doing.

This book is about a man named Edgar Freemantle who has a terrible accident, loses one of his arms, and does some damage to his brain. He decides to get a new start and moves from Minnesota to Florida (wise move, in my opinion) and takes up painting. Now, any other author would leave it at that, but not Mr. King. He’s not satisfied until his readers are so scared that they have to go to sleep with the lights on. He has poor Edgar, through his painting, become the channel for some evil being who’s been trapped on Duma Key (where Edgar now lives on the west coast of Florida). I admit, I didn’t fully understand all the details of the evil being, but I comprehended enough to be sufficiently scared. I don’t want to ruin the story for you, but you’ve probably read enough of Mr. King’s stories by now to know that things turn out okay, in his fashion. (Mr. King’s fashion being that good triumphs over evil, but not without some casualties along the way. And I’ve certainly read enough of the man’s stories to tell you not to get too attached to any character in the book, or sure as shootin’ you’ll be crying by the end of the book.)

One person I especially liked in this story was Miss Elizabeth Eastlake, an old woman who owns the house Edgar rents down in Florida. She knows a lot about this scary being, and was a bit of a painting savant when she was a child, until something horrible happened and she never painted again. (Margie, I can just hear you asking what a savant is, go look it up in the dictionary.) Anyway, Elizabeth reminded me a lot of Margie and me, especially in the scene where she’s sitting at the end of her driveway in her wheelchair, guarding her house armed with an old spear gun. You’ve got to admire someone like that! Plus, she was the much-loved younger child and had older sisters who bullied her when she was a girl, I could certainly relate to that.

So, to sum up, this was a very good book. It wasn’t as scary or as full of blood-and-guts as some of his other books (thank heavens!), but it was still scary enough to keep your toes curled and the hairs standing up on the back of your neck. Mr. King, please keep writing your good stories, but would you grant an old lady a special favor? Please make your next book a bit lighter. Thank you.