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Thaler, Richard H., and Cass R. Sunstein. Nudge: Improving Decisions about Health, Wealth, and Happiness. New Haven: Yale UP, 2008. Print.

This is going to be a truly half-assed review.  I heard about this book through a webcast from Ramit Sethi, the guy behind the blog and book “I Will Teach You To Be Rich”.  It sounded like it would be an interesting look at the psychology behind why people do the things they do, and it really was.  However, I’m not sure I can convince you just how interesting it was.

I have found myself using the concepts in the book almost daily; thinking about, for instance, the difference between the “Planner” and “Doer” sides of my personality, and how I consistently thwart myself.  They talk about choice architecture – how setting things up can affect what people choose – and how their concept of “libertarian paternalism” can help governments and organizations set things up in such a way that the default choice is a good one, although people are never stuck with the default.

For anyone who is interested in why people know they should lose weight, exercise more, and save more money, but are baffled why we as a society don’t do these things, this is a fascinating (if somewhat depressing) read.

I know I will remember, and want to refer again, to the study where a high school changed their graduation requirements to include at least one application to a community college.  However, I can’t find it now!  Fortunately I’m pretty sure to read the book again.

There is a 20-page bibliography that I do not have the stamina to enter, although I would love to.

Grow, Lawrence. Classic Old House Plans: Three Centuries of American Domestic Architecture. Pittstown, NJ: Main Street, 1984. Print.

I’ve been looking for books of old house plans, in an effort to understand the original room functions of our 1913 3-up, 3-down farmhouse.  This book seemed to have good potential, especially when I read the preface, which said “Little attention is paid to… the commonplace”, and he promises to address that.  The first couple of buildings were neat, with not just floor plans, but elevations and sections too.  I couldn’t help but notice that the next two houses were, well, pretty grand… and on page 28 I threw down the book in disgust when I saw the house included a ballroom!  Apparently Grow’s ideas of “the commonplace” are still not as down to earth as mine.

The chapter on Gothic Revival was interesting as usual, but I’ve already read the original Downing book that his example came from, so there was nothing new for me.

Oddly, there is no bibliography.  Also no index.

Sedaris, David, and Ian Falconer. Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk: a Modest Bestiary. New York: Little, Brown, and, 2010. Print.

I picked this off the “Best Bets” shelf at the library, thinking that getting through the small volume in a week would be no problem. I’ve enjoyed Sedaris before, notably Me Talk Pretty One Day, and looked forward to a new installment of his humour.

I read about half of it the first evening, but had to put it down – although it is funny, it’s more wry and sad than belly-busting.  Normally his essays have me literally laughing out loud, but when I got to one essay where a woman saved her dog from a fire instead of her son, I thought I was going to cry instead.  (Yes, I know it’s fiction.  Yes, I cry easily.)

I did finish it the night before it was due back.  I may try it again some other time to see if it me or the writer that made it not funny this time, but I may just focus my time on the other deserving books out there I haven’t read once yet.

Beckwith, Lillian. An Island Apart. New York: St. Martin’s, 1994. Print.

I read this almost immediately after The Bridges of Madison County, not exactly by accident.  A pile of Beckwith’s books was at my parents’ house, hopefully not because my Mom was getting rid of them – I’ve always enjoyed these books, although I don’t remember reading this one when young.  I have particularly fond memories of her autobiographical book About my Father’s Business, and the semi-autobiographical The Hills is Lonely.

Like Bridges, this is a romance; but that’s about the only similarity between the two.  An Island Apart is set in Scotland, first in one of smaller cities, then on an unspecified island similar to Jura, the one my four-times-great-grandmother emigrated from.  The main characters barely know each other when they marry, and have what I would describe as a respectful, rather than loving, relationship throughout the book.  The last few pages of the book might be described as overwrought, but most of the novel is refreshingly straightforward and even, perhaps, unromantic.

I love the descriptions of the Scottish islands in Beckwith’s books and the people there.  The descriptions of their daily life fascinate me, since it is so different than mine, but it seems pretty likely that Flora Munn was feeding her chickens and making a fish-and-potato supper over a peat-burning fire in the mid-1800s, the same way that Beckwith was in the mid-1900s.

Beckwith was a mainlander who was told to go to the islands for her health, then fell in love with them and voluntarily stayed.  She has a writer’s eye for detail, and an outsider’s understanding of what details to include, but she is sympathetic, and her affection for the land and the people shows through all she writes (which does not prevent her from including a good deal of humour).  I highly recommend all her books.

Powell, Jane, and Linda Svendsen. Bungalow Details: Exterior. Salt Lake City [Utah: Gibbs Smith, 2004. Print.

I was trying to figure out good paint colours for the trim on our brick house (currently a weird mix of dark brown, green, and pink), and was thrilled to see another book by Jane Powell, whose book on Bungalow bathrooms I recently reviewed most glowingly.

I looked in vain for paint suggestions, beyond her mentioning several times that bright white trim is NOT appropriate – she seemed to think that I knew what was appropriate already.  I thought I saw reference somewhere in the book to another book that dealt purely with paint colours, but I can’t find it now, either in the resources or in a quick skim of the book.  I will keep on the lookout!

What I loved was her rant on vinyl windows, and she references this article here from a Historic Preservation Officer for the City of Newport.  Her rant goes on for several pages, though!

Bibliography:

• Aladdin Company, The. Aladdin Homes: “Built in a Day” Catalog #29. Bay City, Michigan, 1917. Reprint by Mineola, New York: Dover Publications, 1995.
• American Technical Society. Cyclopedia of Architecture, Carpentry, and Building, Volume I. Chicago, Illinois, 1916.
• Building Brick Association of America, The. One Hundred Bungalows. Boston, Massachusetts: 1912. Reprint by Mineola, New York: Dover Publications, 1994.
• Duchscherer, Paul, and Douglas Keister. Outside the Bungalow: America’s Arts & Crafts Garden. New York, N.Y., USA: Penguin Studio, 1999. Print.
• Duchscherer, Paul, and Douglas Keister. The Bungalow: America’s Arts and Crafts Home. New York: Penguin Studio, 1995. Print.
• Grimmer, Anne E., and Paul K. Williams. The Preservation and Repair of Historic Clay Tile Roofs. [Washington, D.C.]: U.S. Dept. of the Interior, National Park Service, Preservation Assistance Division, 1992. Print.
• Grimmer, Anne E. The Preservation and Repair of Historic Stucco. [Washington, D.C.]: U.S. Dept. of the Interior, National Park Service, Preservation Assistance Division, 1990. Print.
• Hull, Brent. Historic Millwork: a Guide to Restoring and Recreating Doors, Windows, and Moldings of the Late Nineteenth through Mid-twentieth Centuries. New York: John Wiley & Sons, 2003. Print.
• Jester, Thomas C. Twentieth Century Building Materials: History and Conservation. [New York, NY]: McGraw Hill, 1995. Print.
• King, Anthony D. The Bungalow: the Production of a Global Culture. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1984. Print.
• Lancaster, Clay. The American Bungalow: 1880-1930. New York: Abbeville Pr., 1985. Print.
• Levine, Jeffrey S. The Repair, Replacement, and Maintenance of Historic Slate Roofs. [Washington, D.C.?]: U.S. Dept. of the Interior, National Park Service, Cultural Resources, Preservation Assistance, 1993. Print.
• Meany, Terry. Working Windows: a Guide to the Repair and Restoration of Wood Windows. Guilford, CT: Lyons, 2008. Print.
• One Hundred Bungalows. —. Boston: Rogers & Manson, 1912. Print.
• (Incomplete)

Wormer, Andrew. Tile Idea Book. Newtown, CT: Taunton, 2005. Print.

Continuing on my run of Taunton Press’s “Idea” books, this tile book seemed like the ideal way to get some stylish (but hopefully not too trendy) tips on bathrooms.  I was surprised by how many pages they devote to kitchens, but of course between back splashes, floor tiles, and the trend of “feature” tiles between the stove and range hood, I should have expected it.

As usual from Taunton, we have tons of pictures of various rooms in the house, including patios and outside stairs.  It goes beyond inspiration with, for example, historical detail, like the tiled risers on Spanish Revival villas. They point out the use of tile in period bathrooms, like the hexagonal tiles traditional in a 1910s-era “sanitary” bathroom, but also show how to update it (not that I would) with small inset tiles or a border.  Finally, they give tips on laying out tiles, which is very useful to me – I tend to start small with the individual tiles, and forget that establishing an overall pattern is important.  They recommend, for instance, a trim line of accent tiles that lines up with the window head casing, and another line that runs just below the window trim, creating a horizontal line that also ties together the room, makes it appear bigger, and acts as a back splash for the sink.

I’ll definitely put this on hold again when I’m planning our bathroom reno.

Collins, Suzanne. The Hunger Games. New York: Scholastic, 2008. Print.

I read this book in December, during a sick day or two when I wasn’t able to go to work.  I didn’t have anything on the go, so my son loaned me this book that he’d received as a gift for his birthday.

This is a fantasy novel in either an alternate universe or dystopian future.  The protagonist is a female teenage who is the main provider for her family, but then gets taken away to participate in the Hunger Games of the title – a televised competition that pits teens against each other in a death match.

My expectations were low, which is perhaps surprising since I often admit to a love for Young Adult fiction.  I guess I expected this book to be violent – which it mostly is – and therefore not very good – which was an unfair assumption.  I found the characters to be reasonably well developed, the story to be riveting, and the ending to be satisfying and not quite as formulaic as I feared.  I’ll definitely read the next in the series when I need a light, gripping read.

Powell, Jane, and Linda Svendsen. Bungalow Bathrooms. Salt Lake City: Gibbs Smith, 2001. Print.

This book is, without doubt, the best book on bathrooms I have seen yet.  Forget the “Bungalow” in the title – it is not limited to just Bungalow-style houses.  Powell goes through the entire history of bathroom facilities from the Romans to recent times.  She ends that introductory part by pointing out that bathroom technology is not much different than the 1910s and 1920s, and that after you’ve replaced your old toilet with a low-flow version, a one-hundred-year-old bathroom is perfectly usable.

The book is full of wonderful pictures of bathrooms from museums and private homes, but also manages to pack in a ton of useful information.  Powell breaks down her recommendations into two kinds; “Obsessive Restoration” and “Compromise Solution”.  I’m sure my husband appreciates me being told that some things are obsessive, and it’s nice for an author to show two approaches without presenting her way as the only way.

I hadn’t fully understood that the standard white subway-tile walled, white hex-tiled floor bathroom with white fixtures was standard across all kinds of houses from the late 1800s to the 1920s.  This “sanitary” style was designed to promote health by easy cleaning.  The exuberant bathrooms of the 1920s and 1930s started in 1926 with the advent of coloured porcelain for fixtures, which led to the brilliant green, pink, blue, and every other colour of tile you have seen in old bathrooms (my grandmother’s was pink and black, although it dated from the 1950s).

I’ve renewed this book at the library twice, which means I’ve had it more than two months now, and I’m still sorry that it has to go back tomorrow.  I’ll be going through it again, any time I consider changing anything in a bathroom I own.

Works Cited

• Beecher, Catherine, and Harriet Beecher Stowe.  American Woman’s Home.  New York:  J. B. Ford and Co., 1869.  Reprint: New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1998.
• Clow and Donaldson. Standard American Plumbing: Hot Air, Hot water Heating, Steam and Gas Fitting. Chicago: Frederick J. Drake & Co., 1911.
• Croutier, Alev Lytle. Taking the Asters. New York: Abbeville Publishing Group, 1992.
• Hart-Davis, Adam.  Thunder Flush, and Thomas Crapper. London: Michael O’Mara Books, 1997.
• Horan, Julie L. The Porcelain God: A Social History of the Toilet. Secaucus, New Jersey: Carol Publishing, 1997.
• Jester, Thomas C. Twentieth Century Building Materials. Washington, DC: McGraw-Hill Companies, 1995.
• Lambdon, Lucinda. Temples of Convenience and Chambers of Delight. London: Pavilion Books, 1998.
• Lupton, Ellen, and J. Abbott Miller. The Bathroom, the Kitchen and the Aesthetics of Waste: A Process of Elimination. New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1992.
• Maddock, Thomas. Pottery. Trenton, New Jersey: Thomas Maddock’s Sons’ Company, 1910.
• National Trust for Historic Preservation. The Well-Appointed Bath. Washington, DC: The Preservation Press, 1989.
• Ogle, Maureen. All the Modern Conveniences. Baltimore, Maryland: The Johns-Hopkins University Press, 1996.
• Pathak, Bindeswar, Ph. D, Litt. D. History of Public Toilets. Paper presented at the International Symposium on Public Toilets.
• Prentice, Blair, Helaine Kaplan, and the City of Oakland Planning Department. Rehab Right. Oakland, California: City of Oakland, 1978. Reprint, Berkeley, California: Ten Sopeed Press, 1986.
• Sears Roebuck and Co. Consumer’s Guide Fall 1909. 1909. Reprint, New York: Ventura Books, 1979.
• The Editors of Sunset Books and Sunset Magazine. Sunset Bathrooms Planning and Remodeling. Menlo Park, California: Lane Publishing Col, 1983.
• The Victorian Bathroom Catalogue. London: Random House, 1996.
• Wilson, Henry L. A Short Sketch of the Evolution of the Bungalow: From its Primitive Crudeness to its Present State of Artistic Beauty and Cozy Convenience. Los Angeles, n.d. Reprint as California Bungalows of the Twenties. Mineola, New York: Dover Publications, 1993.
• Building with Assurance. Chicago, Morgan, 1921.  Reprint as Homes and Interiors of the 1920s: A Restoration Design Guide. New York: Sterling Publishing, 1987.
• Wright, Lawrence. Clean and Decent: The Fascination History of the Bathroom and W.C. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, Ltd., 1960. Reprint, London: Book Club Associates, 1971.

Waller, Robert James. The Bridges of Madison County. New York, NY: Warner, 1992. Print.

I picked this up from the bedside table in the guest room at my parents’ house during the holidays.  She sometimes puts out books she thinks a guest will like, sometimes piles up books she’s getting rid of, and I think sometimes it’s a place for her to put books that she borrowed from someone.  In any case, it’s usually a coin flip what you’ll find there.

This slim volume captured a lot of imaginations in 1995 when it was published, enough that it was made into a Meryl Streep/Clint Eastwood movie.  I didn’t see the movie and never thought about reading the book, and all I can say about it now is “meh”.  I read it in two evenings before falling asleep, and although it was entertaining enough I can’t say I would recommend it.

The conceit that it isn’t really fiction – that it came from notebooks written by the main character – I found annoying.  It seemed like an apology from the author, to make me accept a romance story more readily than I normally would.  I also never buy the plot of a love that was born in an afternoon, and a relationship that lasted less than a week, leading to a long-term relationship where they’re “true” to each other in spirit, without ever seeing each other or even communicating.  That might be romance, but it’s not love, to me.

Segal, Erich. Love Story. New York: Harper & Row, 1970. Print.

This book came up, somewhat oddly, in my research into reading for teenage boys.  I realized that the movie is the kind of classic everyone has heard of but no-one has seen, and threw it onto hold at the library just to see what the fuss was about.

The novel is slim, just 131 pages long, and not really what I expected.  In my mind the characters were vague; I knew that he was rich and she was poor, and I guess I had imagined some kind of Dickensian setting for them.  The book is set in the late sixties, though, and he is a very rich Harvard jock who went to Philips Exeter Academy (I spent a week there one recent  summer, so I was able to picture it), and she is a lower-class but intelligent Radcliffe student who works in the library.  I had dreaded cloying interactions between them, but was instead dismayed to find that the author takes the opposite tack, with them constantly insulting each other and calling each other names that we would never tolerate in my house, even if used jokingly.

My biggest annoyance with the book is the tagline “Love means never having to say you’re sorry…”, which is displayed prominently on the cover, and is probably the longest-lasting line from the movie.  I just don’t get it, and the book doesn’t explain it – why should you not have to say you’re sorry if someone loves you?

My husband and I later watched the movie together, and I believe he’s writing the review of it while I type this.  The movie follows the book extremely closely, right down to the dialogue, until the final scene.  Unfortunately I can’t go into details without spoilers, but why would you make the movie follow the book for 99% of the content, then veer off right at the end?  Erich Segal is credited as the screenwriter, so he must have either made the change himself, or at least approved it.  I’m not sure I’ll ever figure it out, but it certainly left me with a bad last impression.