Stories springing from singular and familiar events within an everyday, workaday world focus on the sense of mortality that derives from life that blooms, dies, and is reborn with the seasons
Did I choose this book simply because there are kitties on the cover?
Yes. Yes, I did.
Update: Though categorized as a short story collection, this can also be read as a complete narrative. For me, it was like reading a series of letters from a kindly, old grandmother: warm, funny, sometimes caustic, but with an undercurrent of sadness. The fact that it's an obscure, old book I just happened to pull from the shelf reinforced that sense of being in on a secret. --And, yes, there are kitties!
loved the many autobiographic short stories, especially those that included her all white cats, hwr all white cats, Robert White and Mrs. White. I loved the gardens she described and the medical treatment Gladstone and her underwent before their vegetarian children arrived for dinner.
All of the essays in this book,were once published in the New Yorker.
I read this book in high school, then re-read it many times through my 20s, and at some point must have given it away. But it still tugs on my mind enough for me to finally hunt it down today so I could at least remember the title. Part short story collection, part memoir, all great.