Need I even preface this with a blog backlog disclaimer? I debated backdating this and the forthcoming posts (there are so many! but I am dedicated to my meticulous, scrupulous system of multiple/serial photo backups part of which strategy necessitates blog posting—inherent to my blogspot piece of the world wide web, these photos are saved to my private Google Picasa web album—what if my home flooded and my external hard drive were as good as gone?! also because my card catalog brain likes this system of digital filing, and my mother also likes to share her daughters' escapades and adventures with curious aunts and uncles and colleagues:), but as I've already mixed chronology, I figure at this point it really doesn't matter.

The first stop on Mallory and my Montreal-Céline Dion trip last summer was Boston, Mass. (02134! Zoom, anyone? Although that clip of the theme song doesn't include the address they always shared for you to send them your submissions! Anyway, I digress). Mallory had never been to the east coast, and I'd been wanting to return to Boston ever since a family trip there when I was 12, so we flew into Boston, spent the evening and night in Rockport, then hit the road the following day for Québec.

My twelve-year-old memories of Boston include lots of history and fond memories of the public gardens. One of my favorite childhood books was E.B. White's "The Trumpet of the Swan." My mom loves to tell the story of me as a precocious second-grader who corrected my teacher when she called baby swans 'goslings'—they are actually called cygnets (The French word for swan is le cygne, so here's another shoutout of many on this blog for studying romance languages!). The Boston Public Gardens feature prominently in this favorite book, so at age 12, that was top on my Boston list.

The Boston Public Gardens lived up to my 12-year-old hype. There were so many amazing botanical species, including varieties like bougainvillea that I did not expect to find! The swan boats are as classic and lovely as ever, and throngs of children and parents took pictures with the "Make Way for Ducklings" statues. 

I'd been wanting to visit the Paul Revere house since studying it in high school history classes and college architectural history courses. It was amazing and I love the windows and cantilevered second floor. It reminded me of the Leaky Cauldron, of Harry Potter fame, in the best way.

Favorite foods in Boston: Regina margherita pizza (and Diet Coke bc redeye flight) and Mike's Pastries (which we took for the road and enjoyed the next morning at Walden Pond). We also made some delicious culinary discoveries at the Boston Public Market, including Taza stone ground iced chocolate (HEAVENLY) and other farmers market wares. In particular, I loved this cheese booth's chalk, hand-drawn cheese qualities infographic. Each booth also had a small sign showing the distance that the farm-fresh goods had traveled to this market. I loved that idea as a way to encourage responsible consuming and farm-to-grocery-bag buying.

One of the most unexpected things we came upon in Boston was the New England Holocaust Memorial, not a stone's throw from a section of the Freedom Trail. It was stark and thoughtfully designed, and such a moving experience to walk through it. Six glass towers are inscribed with the tattooed identification numbers given to the individuals imprisoned in concentration camps. The sheer quantity is overwhelming in this simple visual representation, marking symbolically something so incomprehensibly horrific. Each glass face bore a quote from an individual who either lived and survived, or died in a concentration camp. These quotes were varied and all of them, moving. Beneath each glass tower, metal grates covered openings through which steam escaped. It was subtle and slightly eerie and as I read later, intentional. This page about the design of the memorial explains it wonderfully.

"Ilse, a childhood friend of mine, once found a raspberry in the camp and carried it in her pocket all day to present to me that night on a leaf. Imagine a world in which your entire possession is one raspberry and you give it to your friend."

Primo Levi is one of my favorite Italian writers. In my Italian modern literature class in college, we read "Se questo è un uomo" and it is a beautifully written account of his harrowing experiences in a concentration camp (a quote I posted way back when).

This memorial was on a peaceful piece of grass in the middle of the city and I'd definitely recommend seeking it out, as it is a beautifully designed and created memorial.

Metal lawn chairs that make me think always of Paris <3

Of late I am always worried that I am boring people (my roommates, my coworkers...you know, captive audiences ;) by raving about the page-turner I just finished, sharing exclamations of sentences or beautiful lines from books, or just sharing recently read favorites. This will probably always be the case, but a couple weeks ago I started an Instagram account for all things literary: liz.reads.

A lot of my friends with whom I'd discuss books are spread out all over the country, and I feel like in examining my own social media consumption, this fits a niche that probably exists for other people besides me—I love intellectually stimulating conversation, talking about and discussing ideas, and the written word, but I inevitably spend time on social media which could be better spent in other pursuits. While this is something I need to work on,  I saw this as an opportunity for sharing thoughts and discussions on those topics in a space where we could all use more substance.

It's already been a joy for me—I have a list (which keeps growing) of ideas, quotes, and other things I want to post about—and it's opened more dialogue between me and my friends about literacy, reading, and design, all of which provide ample food for thought. I love my network of readers and friends—these are the people who share in my delight over a new book and enchanting characters, and send tips my way about amazing projects, books, and lists related to more of the same. I've been on the fence and considering grad school for some time, intending to study Library Science. It will be some time before I even apply, but I love that this little side project has come about organically and will only help my thoughts percolate in that vein for the time being.

Some recent favorites above: Bird by Bird - Anne Lamott; 84, Charing Cross Road - Helene Hanff; When Breath Becomes Air - Paul Kalanithi.

(I feel a little like I'm cheating on our Writing Club... I've been slacking over there, but such is life/winter. Life is a weird balancing/juggling act, which I am realizing more, and more intensely.)

I know, I know how I always say I am not a proponent of organizing [books] by color. But then I saw Vanessa's tucked away library and it was pretty great (and so fun to browse through—I was sleeping on an air mattress in this room on Thanksgiving night and spent a long time looking through all of Vanessa's books before I went to bed—the best). All of this is to say that I redact my previous statements and I think you should follow your heart when it comes to library organization.

This bibliophile dreams of a someday home library. I'm one step closer and have spent many hours sitting here curled up with a book in the week that I've owned this chair. Delightful.

PS – I just finished reading the book "Unbroken" by Laura Hillenbrand. Layne recommended it to me a couple of years ago and it has been on my to-read list, but with the movie coming out soon I realized I needed to get my act together and prioritize it among my upcoming choices. Basically I have been raving about it to anyone who will listen—it is easily one of the best books I have read this year. If you are interested I wrote a longer review here. (Are we friends on Goodreads?)

How incredible is this home library? I am a little in awe and very much in love with those colors, that ladder, that parquet floor, that chair, and all those books. Basically all of it.

I have never been a proponent of the "organizing by color" method for books (neither is Anne Fadiman), but the owner of this library says that they organized loosely by genre and then by color within genre. I like that moderate approach better than arbitrary organization for aesthetics only and it looks so so good here!