It’s book review Tuesday again (seriously, where does the week go?! Not that I mind writing book reviews again – I quite enjoy them – but eek already with how quickly seven days seem to go by!), and today’s topic is brought to you courtesy of Aunt Ruth. A lucky few of you will have known her; several of you will have heard about her. For those, you will know what I’m talking about and how much this post means to me as a result. For those who did not, I will give you a brief synopsis: Aunt Ruth was amazing. She was my mother’s aunt and basically served as a fill-in grandmother for my sister and me (her sister, Grandma Evie, died when I was little and unfortunately Amy never knew her). She was a college professor in a time when a lot of women did not attend universities, let alone teach in them. She never married or had children. I once interviewed her for a school project (topic: a woman I admired); when I asked her if she had ever wanted to get married or come close she told me (and yes, I do recall this verbatim): “There was this one boy I was simply mad about, but…” and then she laughed her fabulous musical laugh and changed the subject. She loved reading and art and theater and music and history and travel and food – not necessarily in that order. And she is the reason I am who I am today.

(I will get to the book review part of today’s post, promise, just bear with me a little longer in my paean to an amazing woman, please.)
Continue reading On Aunt Ruth: Or Why I am Me