I had always considered Lillian Beckwith's book nonfiction, but apparently GR considers them fiction. Does it make any sense to say that I like them better as fiction? As nonfiction, they seem to play into the "English spinster and quaint natives (in this case, crofters on the Hebrides) condescend to each other" meme. True, not much happens in this book, even if you consider it as fiction. Lillian works on her croft, she visits another island with a boatload of her local friends, a few of them go to an auction and she buys a piano. And, of course, there's the weather, a main concern in the area. It's just one of those gentle books that you can reread with pleasure.