On Christmas morning there is nothing more I like to receive than a good book. One I can curl up with later in the day as my body tries to process the 15 kilos of turkey I have just consumed, followed by Mum’s trifle.
High heels and high chairs
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That’s a lot of goodness to digest, so I need a pretty decent book to take my mind off it.
Walking on Trampolines by Frances Whiting is just the book to do it, if you haven’t read it already, put it on your Christmas list and hope to God Santa has seen you being nice.
So good, this book made me lie this week…, like Liar Liar pants on fire type stuff. You see it’s so rare that I get a chance to read a novel and after all the great reviews and the fact that I admire the author so damn much I found the time to read it by telling great big fibs about by where abouts. Locked away in my room pretending to take a nap…… I was reading. Nipping off to the shops to get dinner……I stuffed the book in my bag and sat in the car to read a couple of chapters and then, my greatest tall tale was when I turned up to work tired, and then blamed it on my daughter waking up in the night, when really, I just couldn’t put the book down and had read far past my bedtime.
Forgive me Father Christmas for I have sinned…..but boy it was worth it.
Here is the synopsis of the book.
“From the day Annabelle Andrews sashays into her classroom, Tallulah ‘Lulu’ de Longland is bewitched: by Annabelle, by her family and their sprawling, crumbling house tumbling down to the river.
Their unlikely friendship intensifies through a secret language where they share confidences about their unusual mothers, first loves, and growing up in the small coastal town of Juniper Bay. Their lives become as entwined as Annabelle’s initials engraved beneath the de Longland kitchen table.
But the euphoria of youth rarely lasts,and the implosion that destroys their friendship leaves lasting scars and a legacy of self-doubt that haunts Lulu into adulthood.
Years later, Lulu is presented with a choice: remain the perpetual good girl who misses out, or finally step out from the shadows and do something extraordinary. And possibly unforgivable.”
Walking on Trampolines made me laugh, and cry big blobby snotty tears, but most of all, it took me all the way back to my first loves. My first dear friend and my first true love and how the two collided. From the first excited whispers of true love during a sleep over…to the birthday gift left on my back step from a jilted friend who felt neglected by my new focus, a gangly, awkward boy. A delicious masterpiece from Frances Whiting as she eloquently paints the picture of puberty, first love and deep friendship. At first the title had me intrigued, what did it mean, but as I turned the last page, disappointed that it had come to an end I realised friendships can be just like walking on trampolines. Bouncing together can be a whole bunch of fun, until one bounces you fair off the side to fall on your face………
Seriously, ask for this book for Christmas.
And Frances…I would now like you to write another….like now….. xxxx