Back in the days when people used hot pots instead of microwaves, some boiled almost constantly. In fact, some rooms had two: one for pouring hot water into cups and the second for heating the next pot of water for those too slow or too generous to take from the first.

This particular room lay at the very top and very center of a thee-story Tudor-style dorm. Originally intended to house several first-year students, it had, instead been taken over by a pair of juniors with a tendency to prop their door open until the wee hours of the morning and to welcome in their assortment of friends and dorm mates around the clock.

The beverage of choice was, of course, cocoa, and around ten or eleven or twelve (depending on the night), the girls would start to expect company. Residents from around the building (and, sometimes, from other dorms on campus) would climb the stairs to the eyrie and the hotpots would begin to percolate. Those who frequented the gatherings came with mug in hand. But spare mugs abounded and no one ever had to go without.

Neither the girls, nor their guests stood on formality. Early guests got their choice of seating — the small Japanese sofa in front of the row of windows usually went first as it was the most comfortable spot in the room. But desk chairs and space on beds would be cleared off and eventually the contents of the floor shifted and shaped into comfortable nooks and claimed by those seeking refuge from meetings, studies, or procrastination.

Music — Depeche Mode and Disney soundtracks and the Pet Shop Boys and the Indigo Girls were all quite popular — played from one stereo or the other or from the one across the hall, which belonged to the girl with the most extensive music collection of the group — and sometimes from several at once. A hot pot switched from the loud whoosh of heating to the quiet sound of boiling and it would be unplugged and the next plugged in. People rose to fill their mugs, and melting marshmallows were quickly spooned from steaming cups into eager mouths. A ginger-haired boy with an infectious laugh and dancing eyes had earlier introduced the group to the novelty of adding whipped cream to top their cups, and when there was some to be had, the can was passed around and the revelers were encouraged to partake liberally.

The room filled with the sounds of people chattering. It does not matter what they talked about and it would be impossible to cite here all the topics covered. It will suffice to say that the group was fully capable of discussing both the Very Important and the highly mundane and that they did.

An hour would pass, sometimes two or even three. Early risers departed with a fond good night. Others dozed off on the couch or a bed. The conversations grew quieter. The neighbor with the music collection might pad off to the bathroom to wash the mugs and spoons. One of the two girls might open her book.

Rarely did the merrymaking end all at once. Usually it just faded until the residents of the room were the only ones left, just as the small details seep out from good memories leaving only a tableau and a feeling of contentment.

Folks, since Rudi’s not here for me to pester, I’m consulting you as my fahion gurus.

The mayor’s inaugural ball is tonight at 7 p.m.

Should I wear Dress A or Dress B?

My new shawl is a velvet stole with beaded fringe, if that helps.

All opinions are welcome. (… Well, except ones that suggest I should find a third option.)

Now that I’ve finished writing up the nearly 50 books I read last year, which were amongst the best? I offer my top ten list — five books aimed at adults and five aimed at young adults — for 2006 below. The links take you to my original book reviews.

1. The Lightning Thief, by Rick Riordan — This book really was the most riveting, creative, wonderful book I read all year. The protagonist is an everyday kid, the sort you’d be annoyed by in any average venue, until he finds out that he could possibly be extraordinary. Which is where any good epic takes off. I so look forward to reading future volumes in this series.
2. The History of Love, by Nicole Krauss — The best books sometimes happen into your life accidentally. This story of many kinds of love came into mine at an airport convenience store. Who would have expected something so great from the O.C. airport?
3. The Big Over Easy, by Jasper Fforde — Favorite authors just cannot be ignored when they write new books. And Jasper has yet to write a book that disappoints. This tale departed from Thursday Next’s series to take on the story of Detective Jack Spratt with equal excitement and cleverness. Rudi gave me the follow-up, The Fourth Bear, for Christmas and I’m eager to tear into it very, very soon.
4. Inkheart, by Cornelia Funke — Admit it; the saying is often wrong. You frequently can judge a book by its cover. And this new favorite author’s work hopped into my hands almost exclusively based on its cover. (Mind you, I’d been attracted to her covers before this one demanded to come home with me.) A terrific read for book lovers everywhere. Read it before the movie comes out.
5. Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven, by Fannie Flagg — Old friends often have great recommendations for what you should pick up next. When two old friends independently refer you to the same book, it’s time to put down your current read and find out what’s going to make your literary taste buds water. Thanks Eri and Rebs for encouraging me to seek out Fannie’s latest wonder. It’s unusual for a book to have you grinning for the duration, but this one succeeded at doing just that.
6. Arthur and George, by Julian Barnes — Book awards cannot be totally ignored. This work of historical fiction, which appeared on many short lists last year, was a bit of a downer, but it kept me reading until the very end and left me wondering about the final chapters’ events. It’s hard to ask for more than that from an author.
7. Peter and the Starcatchers, by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson — This account of the origins of the inhabitants of Never Never Land was on my list for a long time before it and I ended up at the same place at the same time. And then it kept me up late kicking my brain into wakefulness with questions of what would happen next.
8. Fly by Night, by Frances Hardinge — While covers are important, sometimes cover blurbs are, too. A freebie advance reader copy of this book found its way home with me last year from one of my book conferences via Rudi’s sharp eye for colorful descriptions. Whoever wrote the book’s blurb is to be congratulated. The author’s sense of place stayed with me, as did her use of language, so I’m grateful that the blurb lived up to the reading.
9. Wicked, by Gregoire Maguire — This adaptation of the Oz mythology had long sat on my list of books to check out at some point. When the long-awaited sequel came out, it seemed imperative to read the original. A friend and I read it together and I’d say we both enjoyed it. I wish the book had been a little longer in order to let the end of the story not feel so rushed, but I still think it merits appearing on my top ten list for the year.
10. The Safe-Keeper’s Secret, by Sharon Shinn — Tears are a real tribute to an author’s ability to make you care about her characters. And I wept on public transportation for the characters in Shinn’s novel. I look forward to seeing how their story plays out in future stories.

I just wanted to send get well soon wishes to Sam’s dad. Terry, we hope you’ll be up and about soon. We’re all sending you our most healing vibes.

The first three beautiful things from the New Year:

1. Because motorcades disrupt the flow of D.C. traffic and make it difficult to get around the city, we were given an impromptu holiday on Tuesday to mourn the death of President Gerald Ford. Rudi and I walked down to watch the funeral procession from the Capitol to the Cathedral and then watched the service on tv. It was moving to see how beloved he was, especially by his family, who kept a vigil by his casket in order to thank the public mourners who came by to pay their respects. And while his death is sad, he lived an extraordinary and long life.

2. Feeling better on Tuesday, I headed off to Georgetown to shop and get some exercise. As I approached the P Street Bridge on my walk home to Dupont Circle in the growing twilight, a nearly full moon was rising over the Presbyterian church and The Brickskeller.

3. I hadn’t cleaned my desk at work in … years. Yesterday I ought to start the new year out right by doing some organizing. By the end of the day I had filled my recycling bin to overflowing and my papers were organized by project in piles on my table.

Reading a lot can be a sign of depression setting in for me. Reading nothing at all is a gigantic neon sign that the depression has settled in, made itself at home, and is inviting guests over for loud raucus parties. The first two titles were read back in October. NOTHING was finished in November, although I dabbled in a couple of books. And the last two were read on December 30th after a trip to the library. Two books in one day — seems like a good sign, don’t you think?

Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven, by Fannie Flagg
From the jacket: “Life is the strangest thing. One minute, Mrs. Elner Shimfissle is up in her tree, picking figs, and the next things she knows she is off on an adventure she never dreamed of, running into people she never in a million years expected to meet. Meanwhile, back home, Elner’s nervous, high-strung niece Norma faints and winds up in bed with a cold rag on her head; Elner’s neighbor Vergena rushes immediately to the Bible; her truck driver friend, Luther Griggs, whom Elner has known since he was a boy, runs his eighteen-wheeler into a ditch — and the entire town is thrown for a loop and left wondering, ‘What is life all about, anyway?’ Except for Tot Whooten,who owns Tot’s Tell It Like It Is beauty shop. Her main concern is that the world might come to an end before she can collect her social security.”
Why this book? Eri and Rebs both recommended it to me — separately. And when two people who have known you so well so long recommend a book by an author you already enjoy, don’t pass go, don’t collect $200. Just head to the library or the bookstore and pick it up immediately.
My take: Wow. My face ached from smiling so hard. If you want a book that makes you feel good about life (and death), this is it. This is a modern It’s a Wonderful Life without the suicidal thoughts. Go get it, now. Hurry!
Pages: 365

The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists, by Gideon Defoe
From the book jacket: “Not since Moby-Dick. … No, not since Treasure Island. … Actually, not since Jonah and the Whale has there been a sea saga to rival [this one], featuring the greatest seafaring hero of all time, the immortal Pirate Captain, who, although he lives for months at a time at sea, somehow manages to keep his beard silky and in good contdition. Worried that his pirates are growing bored with a life of winking at pretty native ladies and trying to stick enough jellyfish together to make a bouncy castle, the Pirate Captain decides it’s high time to spearhead an adventure. While searching for some major pirate booty, he mistakenly attacks the young Charles Darwin’s Beagle and then leads his ragtag crew from the exotic Galapagos Islands to the fog-filled streets of Victorian London. There they encounter grisly murder, vanishing ladies, radioactive elephants, and the Holy Ghost itself. And that’s not even the half of it.”
Why this book? It was on sale, came in a clever two books-for-one packaging, and got a good review from NPR.
My take: Not as good as I’d hoped. Defoe might be one of those authors who is taking postmodernism to new and ridiculously annoying levels. Or he could be poking fun at our pre-established literary stereotypes. But I tired of the characters far faster than I wanted. But I did appreciate some of his jokes and references and anachronisms, especially when it came to the pirate who ate Starburst instead of citrus fruits — and who ultimately died of scurvy.
Pages: 101

A Highland Christmas, by M.C. Beaton
From the book jacket: “In the dark, wintry highlands of Lochdubh, Scotland, the spirit of Old St. Nick is about as welcome as a flat tire on a deserted road. … Now it’s up to Hamish to make things right. He has to protect an unhappy girl, unlock the secrets of a frightened old woman, and retrieve some stolen holiday goods. And he had better do it quickly, for the church bells will soon toll, and all of Lochdubh will be forced to face another dreary winter. …”
Why this book? I’ve said it before, the Hamish Macbeth series of books is comfort food to me. And I needed comfort — and a little more Christmas in my life.
My take: We were going for mashed potatoes here, not spinach. And it seems to have served its appointed purpose because here I am talking about books again, right?
Pages: 129

The Shepherd, the Angel, and Walter the Christmas Miracle Dog, by Dave Barry
From the book jacket: “The year is 1960, and as it is every year, the Christmas pageant at St. John’s Episcopal Church, directed by Mrs. Elkins, who used to be in The Theater in New York, and who is tall and skinny with hair the color of the orange part of a candy corn, is a very big deal. Doug is a shepherd this year, which is better than being a Three King, because, for one thing, you get to carry a stick. There are problems everywhere, however. His fellow shepherds are hacking around, which makes Mrs. Elkins yell at all of them; the girl he likes is playing Mary opposite a Joseph who is depressingly smart and athletic and cute; the family dog is doing very poorly, and they have no idea what they’re going to tell Doug’s little sister, Becky, who’s playing one of the Host of Angels and who loves the dog more than anything; and his dad’s just gotten a flat tire, which means they might not even get to the pageant at all.”
Why this book? More of the desired Christmas fix. And I always enjoy Barry’s columns.
My take: Short but sweet. I’m glad I got it from the library rather than the bookstore, though, because short it was. Sort of a real-life The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Kind of.
Pages: 117

Total number of books read during 2006: 47
Total page count from those books (give or take a few pages): 12,568

That’s it. Stay tuned tomorrow for 2006’s Best of Books post. There are some great ones in there….