Notes from the Underwire

For the last two days I've been without a laptop. Complete hideousness. The children are finally half way through "The Wackness" allowing me to break into my daughter's room and steal precious moments on her mac. The best part of being without a computer, apart from the dawning realization that one may indeed be addicted to the internet (read: Twitter), is the fantastic expanse of time that runs in front of you like a long lush lawn, ripe with potential for reading books.

The summer days are warming up and I don't know who it was that asked 'why do I feel guilty reading books in the garden when it really is part of my job description,' but I feel the same way, sneaking off into my office, and checking to make sure no-one is looking before laying supine on my sofa, after removing the piles of books that make their home there.

The book I had the pleasure of reading yesterday was Quinn Cummings' Notes from the Underwire: Adventures from My Awkward and Lovely Life.

Her delightfully self-deprecating style and her wit disguise a gravitas that I did not expect from this book and it whacked me upside my head like a two-by-four. This woman is not just a funny mom-blogger (which is what I'd expected), although her pieces revolve equally around her child, her pets and her husband (Consort). Quinn Cummings reveals a seriousness, despite herself, through the jokey tales. She'll make you spit out your tea with instantaneous laughter (Spirit of '76 deals with her dubious fashion choices as a teenager), and she'll make you cry too (Dog Days, Like a Tattoo on your Butt). This does not read as a memoir of an uber-famous child actor, but the musings of a serious woman more than a little amused by living in this silly city of Los Angeles. She's smart, she's hilarious, she's a self-confessed horrible cook, she's a wee bit snarky (in a good way) but most of all, she has an enormous, all-consuming heart.

Please read this book.