Spring on Some Christie
Gone are the cold evenings bundled by the fireside with our hot tea, cozy blankets, and Agatha Christie books. Now, its Spring in Texas, so our evenings involve a crap ton of humidity, cold sweet tea, and holding whatever Christie novel I’m in the middle of in front of an open window while praying for a breeze. Still, even though the mood has changed, there’s something so comforting in the consistency of reading through such a large series. Cold days, warm days, happy days, sad days, it doesn’t matter – I know I will close the night with a few chapters of Hercule Poirot, pompous egg-shaped head and all, coming to the rescue with the truth.
So much of my reading in my life has been seasonal. I always save Sherlock Holmes for the winter months. Anne of Green Gables owned my summers as a child. Some things just move me as stories that should be read at certain times of the year, let the story meld with an existing environment to provide the perfect mood. I even set my Scentsy warmers to scents that will match! So you can guess my hesitation sitting down with Hercule Poirot as the weather got warm, now that I’ve snuggled up with him all winter.
Yet, March blessed me with The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, The Big Four, and The Mystery of the Blue Train. Roger Ackroyd was shocking and wonderful, The Big Four surprisingly huge in its worldwide grandeur, and The Mystery of the Blue Train cozy in its step back into the traditional Poirot pace. The weather didn’t take away from any of these stories, Christie gets you into the story so efficiently, so effectively, you can’t be distracted by the outside world; afterall, Poirot has a mystery to walk you through, a mystery only he is equipped to solve. I can’t wait to see what is in store for our household with the titles coming up in April and the rest of the year.
Anakalian Whims 
hadleykaden said,
April 2, 2012 at 2:34 pm
So true how books bring back seasonal memories. I’ve never thought about it that way. But just as a certain food or scent can bring back moments in time, so do stories. I remember long weekends curled up by the floor heater reading Sweet Valley High as a young teen. Or warm summer days on the patio with East of Eden.
Thanks for the reminder!