Welcome to Litsy!

Love for one another and the land turns beastly in an unexpected way. 👹 I‘m still processing and I suspect my mind will come back to it for some time.

Oh my 🥺. This is one of the more disturbing things I‘ve read in a while! 🕷🕷 Completely unexpected. Keep in mind, this character is an adult.

I can tell I‘m going to devour this one too! Immediately hooked. ðŸª�

didn‘t really know what to expect,I was drawn in to this atmospheric tale of farm life. A grandmother raising 2 grandchildren on a long held family farm.Blanche grows to love the farm life , hard as it is ,the place a part of her.She never forgets the love of her younger days , a young man who feels the city is where to make a life.This tale is a definition of losing yourself in love , & making choices that go against your nature.w/ consequences

Purchases from The Shady Tree bookshop in Minocqua, WI today. It isn‘t a shop designed for leisurely milling, plus I had 3 people waiting on me so you know how much fun that makes for browsing. 😆 I did take note it has an excellent quality cookbook selection.

Definitely looking forward to the tagged book! I have a penchant for stories with a rural backdrop.

This gothic tale of obsession and madness, set on a farm in France, was a buddy read with Shawn and Britta. We all found it rather melodramatic for our taste, and we agreed that the spectacular ending redeems those parts that didn‘t work for us. Of the three of us, I think I liked it best. The writing is strong and the #translation by Tina Kover is excellent.

Reading the tagged novel, which is set in France‘s Massif Central, transported me back to the month I spent on a farm in that area in 2002. The door to my room was the one under the gable in the photo. (It was much nicer inside than you might think, based on the exterior.)

He didn‘t belong to this family. He was an employee here. No one had spoken to him because they didn‘t expect anything from him except what you would normally expect from a farmhand. Feed the chickens. Clean the yard. Take care of the barn. Sort the eggs. Milk the cows. He wasn‘t part of the family; he was part of the farm. Louis had forgotten what it meant, to be part of the scenery without being part of the picture.

In the tagged novel, “monsterâ€� is “a word Blanche reserved for the calves born with five legs, for one-eyed cats, for all the world‘s atrocities that hovered at the edge of their domain without ever penetrating it.â€� Never before having heard of 5-legged cattle, of course I went down an Internet hole... and found many photos.

I suspect this may end up being one of my tops for the year. Sore beautiful writing, but a shocking surprise ending that is oddly satisfying for its quick turn.