The Cruelest Month by Louise PennyBecause people I know and love love Louise Penny, I was happy to find a copy of one of her books in the library's free pile.
I confess, though, to being sort of not taken in for the first half of the book. Eventually, though, it clicked into place - especially when the intrigue surrounding Inspector Gamache started to emerge. So, it was okay but I'm not really feeling the need to be a completist and read every one of the Gamache books.
That said, I loved this one passage:
'As always. He came over for dinner last night, you know,' said Peter, opening some jam jars. One still had the wax on top and he needed to dig it out with a knife. 'Hardly ate anything.'
It threw me back to my childhood - my grandmother made jam, and sealed the jars with paraffin, as did the formidable Ruth Bogen, who lived across the street. And I can still remember the way you had to dislodge the wax, popping it in a bit so you could pivot it out in one piece. And then, because my mother never threw anything out, you washed the paraffin disk so that you could add it to the collection of odd candle ends and other bits of wax, for making candles anew one day. Who does that anymore?
My mother used to do that too, she melted the paraffin in an old tin pan that was used only for that, and I guess it is still in the kitchen cupboard with the old paraffin lids in it...
ReplyDeleteSo did mine, and, yes, we saved the paraffin. I worked with her, in her last few years, melting the paraffin and lugging the kettles around because her wrists had 'given out' on her.
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