For tonight, I’m skipping a review of Peter and Max in the interest of finishing a post and going to bed.

The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling

From the jacket: From my brain: Honestly, you know the summaries as well as I do. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, does not die when his parents are killed by the most evil wizard in ages. Instead, the one-year-old is sent to live with his non-magical and abusive aunt and uncle and cousin, where he survives until his 11th birthday, when he finds out he’s a wizard and that he’s going away to a special school for other magical British kids. Once at Hogwarts, he makes friends, has trouble with schoolwork, and flies on a broomstick — typical stuff for the average pre-teen. We follow Harry through the years as he’s nearly killed by a possessed teacher, a memory, a house-elf (okay, that time he was only nearly grievously injured), another possessed teacher, several other evil witches and wizards, and the wizard who killed his parents and who’s now gunning for him. Ultimately there’s a showdown between the two, but not before Harry builds himself the family he lost as a child and finds himself to be the leader he never expected to become.

My take: It seems only appropriate to list all seven books together, as the tale would be incomplete without reading them all.

I pulled them out earlier this spring, when I needed a refresher before seeing the last movie. It’s interesting to see how much of what I remember is clouded by having seen the movies over the years.

I can say that the books are just as enjoyable after the most recent reading as they’ve been all the other times I’ve read them. And if you’ve somehow missed out on reading the series, you are in for a treat.

Pages: 4,083

My week, in snippets:

Up earlier on a Saturday to fill water barrels at the garden than I am to go to work during the week.

Rudi’s away for the weekend, but he’s left me a container of sesame noodles to eat for dinner, so I don’t have to scrounge.

I follow it up by baking the half-roll of Gramma cookies that didn’t go to Dad.

Sleep in the middle of the bed.

Farmers’ market: lots of fruit. An almond-plum muffin with strong tea for brunch.

Hot and humid, but there is one person’s worth of shade over the benches in front of Teaism. No one else joins me outside.

A brief, strong rainstorm brings no rainbow, but does bring Rudi home.

We sit at Starbucks as the sun goes down. Rudi talks about the weekend’s rides and festivities while I knit on a sock.

A weekend’s effort brings The Woman in White to a conclusion after nearly three months in progress.

Monday brings disappointment from a deferred deadline.

We seek consolation by watching Gentlemen Prefer Blondes on a screen down on the Mall and eating a picnic. The sky is pink and the Capitol gleams bright white. The tomatoes are sweet. My grape juice is fizzy. The crowd applauds.

A mid-week watering trip to the garden nets a two-color summer squash, two black cherry tomatoes, and three red chili peppers.

Just a smidgen of rain and the weather cools off to the mid-80s. So pleasant.

A late lunch at the farmers’ market offers me a lassi, a mushroom empanada, a cherry muffin, and a container of raspberries. I carry a bouquet of zinnias back to the office to split with some coworkers.

It’s nearly twilight when I leave the office to walk home. The sky is violet and the clouds on the horizon an inky indigo.

We are all running late, but I am still the first to arrive at the Yards. I get a scoop of blueberry white chocolate ice cream and people watch. Eventually, Rudi, John, and Nicole join me. We sit on a blanket for drinks in the dark and later head out for pizza.

Curling up on the couch with a book while I wait for some delicates soaking in the sink causes an hour to fly past unnoticed. I tell myself “Just one more chapter” over and over and over again.

Three beautiful things from my week past:

1. Rudi’s camping plans get rained out, so he crashes with friends who happen to be renting a room above a yarn store. He brings me home two lovely purple skeins of Rambouillet wool.

2. As I meander my way down to Screen on the Green, I hear familiar strains emanating from near the metro station. It’s the local trombone shout band, which I haven’t heard since last summer.

3. After Jeremiah and Rudi go to bed, Corey likes to snuggle up on my lap while I sit in the rocking chair. I know he’s really relaxed because he puts his face in my palm and falls asleep.

How about you? What’s been beautiful in your world this week?

Today’s Booking through Thursday assignment should be an easy one:

It’s National Book Week. The rules: Grab the closest book to you. Go to page 56. Copy the 5th sentence as your status.

Unfortunately, the closest book to me, Tea: A Global History, ends a chapter on page 56, and there is no 5th sentence on that page.

And while the book I’m currently reading, Diamond Ruby, also concludes a chapter on page 56, it has more than five sentences on the page. Here’s the appropriate one:

“As the front door slammed, Ruby sat very still for a few moments.”

For being located in a really emotionally draining scene, that’s a really dull sentence.

The Lamorna Wink by Martha Grimes

From the jacket: “With his good friend Richard Jury on a fool’s errand in Northern Ireland, Melrose Plant tries — in vain — to escape his aunt and his Long Piddletown lethargy by fleeing to Cornwall. There, high on a rocky promontory overlooking the sea, he rents a house — one furnished with tragic memories. But his Cornwallian reveries are tempered by the local waiter/cab driver/amateur magician. The industrious Johnny Wells seems unflappable — until his beloved aunt disappears. Now, Plant is dragged into the disturbing pasts of everyone involved — and a murder mystery that only Richard Jury can solve ….”

My take: There comes a point in nearly every continuous series where the reader thinks, “My god, the author is sick of writing about these characters.” While skipping from the first two books in the Richard Jury detective series to the 16th disallows me from nailing down that moment with pinpoint accuracy, I can safely say that prior to book sixteen, Martha Grimes hit that point.

D.I. Richard Jury is nearly nowhere to be found in this book. The first part of the novel tells of his friend, playboy Melrose Plant’s quest to escape his overbearing aunt, his wealthy life, and Jury’s absence by renting a mansion along the Cornwall coast. He intersperses his midlife crisis with investigations into a current local missing person case (at the request of the woman’s teenage nephew, whom he’s known all of a day), the unsolved deaths of two young children, and a recent murder. Luckily, the detective called in on the case is Jury’s compatriot, Brian Macalvie, who asks for the help of both Plant and Jury’s hypochondriac assistant, Sergeant Wiggins.

Jury shows up eventually to help solve the case, but not before we are treated to sulky whinings about his absence by his supervisor, his tenants, and the police department cat. Honestly, I nearly threw the book across the room at that point. (Clearly I didn’t and clearly it was not so bad I couldn’t finish the novel.)

The tying up of the mysteries was worthy of a disturbing tv crime show episode. Nearly no one is happy at the end of the story, the crimes turn out to be far more gruesome than expected, and I just couldn’t help but think perhaps Martha Grimes needed a Cornwallian vacation of her own rather than to write another book in the series.

Pages: 420

Plain Kate by Erin Bow

From the jacket: “Plain Kate lives in a world of superstitions and curses, where a song can heal a wound and a shadow can work deep magic. As the wood-carver’s daughter, Kate held a carving knife before a spoon, and her wooden charms are so fine that some even call her ‘witch-blade’ — a dangerous nickname in a town where witches are hunted and burned in the square. For Kate and her village have fallen on hard times. Kate’s father has died, leaving her alone in the world. And a mysterious fog now covers the countryside, ruining crops and spreading fear of hunger and sickness. The townspeople are looking for someone to blame, and their eyes have fallen on Kate. Enter Linay, a stranger with a proposition: In exchange for her shadow, he’ll give Kate the means to escape the town that seems set to burn her, and what’s more, he’ll grant her heart’s wish. It’s a chance for her to start over, to find a home, a family, a place to belong. But Kate soon realizes that she can’t live shadowless forever — and that Linay’s designs are darker than she ever dreamed.”

My take: When Plain Kate’s father suddenly falls ill and dies, she is left without an advocate in the world. Not yet old enough to belong to the guild that would allow her to serve as the master-carver for the town, she is unceremoniously evicted from her home and forced to tell anyone interested in buying her wares that there is another carver they should try first. Settling in a stall in the marketplace, she makes her bed in the drawer of a dresser and sells to those familiar with her work, who like the elegant knifework she is capable of. Yet, in a world where superstition runs strong, a girl with mismatched eyes and a long shadow who lives alone is not safe. When Linay, a wanderer, comes to town and offers to buy her shadow from her, she refuses; unfortunately, he has the magic to force her hand, causing Plain Kate first to pull in a bounteous haul of fish, then for everyone else’s fish to become inedible. When the fishermen start dying, a mob turns on her, and Plain Kate has no choice but to flee with what supplies Linay’s purchase can get her and her trusty cat, Taggle. Oh, and a gift that Linay says is her true heart’s desire.

Adopted on a trial basis by a gypsy band of horse sellers, Plain Kate at last finds a friend in Drina. But what will become of Plain Kate when Drina and her family discover her secrets? And what will become of them all as a specter of death follows in their footsteps each night in the fog?

I want to tell you that I really liked this book, which has garnered a lot of acclaim, all of it deserved. I can say I liked Plain Kate and Tag, and I liked Drina and her grandmother, and ultimately I understood Linay’s motivations. The characters were all well-written, and the plot was well thought out. However, this was, in the end, an absolutely heartbreaking book for me, and I sobbed through the last third of it, in a way that surprised me and left Rudi at odds for how to comfort me. And it’s impossible to talk about why without giving away all sorts of plot points.

In several ways, my reaction to it reminds me of how affected I was by Aimee Bender’s The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake when I read it last year. It ultimately ended up on my best books of 2010 list because I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

All I can say in the end is that it hurt me to read this book, and I can’t think of anyone I know whom it wouldn’t also pain. You may choose to read Plain Kate in spite of that (for some pain is worth pushing through, of course), and I certainly can’t say it isn’t a story worthy of your time. But know if you do, a little bit of your soul likely will break off and stay behind in the book when you close its covers for the last time.

Pages: 314

This was my fourth book for this spring’s Once upon a Time Challenge.