I recently finished reading A Long Way from Chicago. Again, it was a children's book, but they are great! This one was set in the early 30's. Every summer for a number of years, a brother and sister visit their grandma in rural Illinois. Each chapter tells stories of the week's events. The grandma is, as my grandma said, a hoot.
About three years ago, my grandma wanted all her family to read it, and then when we next got together, talk about it- basically a family book club. Well, two things never happened.
1. I didn't read it.
2. We never got together to discuss it.
But let's not dwell on the past, shall we? I’ve read it now and don’t regret it.
One of my favorite parts was when the grandma decides to bake a gooseberry pie for a big fair-like event, and win a blue ribbon for her town's honor. She spends all day and goes through two 25-pound sacks of sugar, lots and lots of pie crusts, and all her gooseberries to bake the perfect pie. When they arrive, grandma's got all the confidence in the world, as she's sure no one else had the guts to bake the same pie. However, they discover that someone else did enter a gooseberry pie- I guess that gooseberries are difficult to use because they are so sour and prickly. "Gooseberries are so tart that more sugar than fruit goes into the pie."
Alright, so they see that they have competition. Grandma gets worried and tells the kids that the man who stands in the way of their blue ribbon is the best home-baker in the state of Illinois, and that she's a goner. So what does she do? She cheats and switches the names on the pies, so her name is in front of the other man's pie and his in front of hers. When all is said and done, guess who wins? The competition, Rupert Pennypacker, with grandma's pie wins.
How relatable! Not the cheating -or baking pies for that matter- but the self doubt. I have second guessed myself too many times and haven't learned to trust my instincts. And most of the time, they're right.
One more thing I want to mention, and that’s my almost perfect timing. I read this book while staying in Scott Air Force Base, Illinois. I know, it’s not Chicago, but the book didn’t take place there. That’s where the kids lived- but their grandma, like I said, lived in rural Illinois. Well, Scott Air Force base just happens to be surrounded by corn fields and country homes and fields of bright yellow flowers. So, I guess it was meant to be that I failed to read it when I was supposed to, and instead read it when I was somewhere very much like the book.
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