Five Lines

Here’s an interesting assignment I’ve been tagged with by Oreneta. I was supposed to go to the nearest book, and write down what I found on page 123, line 5 and the next three lines.

This was challenging for me in that it required me to print something out of context, and I spent seventeen years in journalism fighting the urge to do just that. This took me completely out of my comfort zone, but that’s okay. I need to do that every now and then. I grabbed three books that were handy, started turning pages and for various reasons, was pleased by what I found.

My first book was Home to Holly Springs by Jan Karon. If you liked her Mitford series, you’ll like this book. It’s the first in a new series of books about Father Tim going home to Mississippi. I’ve really enjoyed it. I’m 55 pages from the end and it has taken me FOREVER to read because I’ve had about ten minutes of reading time each night in the last two weeks. I hate it when I can’t make time to read. Am I rambling? Here it is:

“Thank you for having me.” The palm of her hand was cool; she wore a suit the color of the blue parlor walls.
“I didn’t know whether you’d come.”
“I wasn’t so sure about it myself.” He’d changed pants in the stockroom of Brooker’s, put on his linen sport coat, and left Barnabas with Red.
“Please,” she said. “Let’s sit in the window.”

It’s an okay passage, but examining it allowed me to drift to the next paragraph, which I really liked. I encourage you to read it slowly.

The room was greatly changed from his visits many years ago, though the overall spirit of it was brighter. They sat in high backed velvet chairs in the bay window, at a table furnished with a silver tea service and a vase of roses. Three petals had fallen onto the white cloth; a small cake, ornamented with a curl of shaved chocolate was displayed on a crystal stand.

I’m glad I read it a second time because it forced me to appreciate her descriptive style, something I didn’t do when I raced through it the first time on my way toward the next chapter. I need to do that more often…appreciate the author’s work, not just the storyline. Am I being all philosophical?

Book #2—Me & Emma by Elizabeth Flock. I haven’t read this book yet. It was one of several I picked up at the library on my last trip there. That was a good library day. You know how sometimes you go and find nothing that excites you and other days you find more books than you have time for? This was a good day. Am I rambling?

We’ve never really talked about how Daddy died—I always figured Emma didn’t think about it, her being so weensy when he was killed and all.
“I don’t know,” she says.
“His killers live in this forest and we’re hunting them down?”
“Well…”
“Well what?”
“They might live here, you never know. They never did catch ‘em did they?”

Ooh, now I’m really interested in this book, more so than when I pulled it off the shelf.

And finally, I grabbed the closest cookbook I had sitting near me. I’m never far from one. It was a hometown cookbook that contains this recipe on page 123. This is longer than five lines, but it wouldn’t be fair to give you only a partial recipe.

ITALIAN BEEF

1 beef rump roast 1 clove garlic, crushed
1 can beer 2 tsp Italian seasoning
1 package dried onion soup mix

Put roast in a crock pot. Combine remaining ingredients and pour over roast. Cook on low for ten to fifteen hours. Serve on French rolls.

This is a great recipe that I’d forgotten all about. I’m so glad I stumbled on it again. Perhaps that whole “out of context” thing isn’t quite so bad. Thanks Oreneta.