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Cargando... The Year at Thrush Green (1996)por Miss Read
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InscrÃbete en LibraryThing para averiguar si este libro te gustará. Actualmente no hay Conversaciones sobre este libro. The Year at Thrush Green by Miss Read is the twelfth book about a small rural village in a small corner of England known as the Cotswolds. The inhabitants of Thrush Green are now well known friends and it was a joy to catch up with the latest news and goings-on. The author chose to spread this book over the twelve months of a year, giving us a close look at the passing seasons and how the natural world adapts to the changing weather. From picturesque descriptions of the countryside to lively gossip about the residents this books was everything I love about this series. Thrush Green in all it’s glory of tidy gardens, thatched cottages, and friendly neighbours comes to life on the pages. These simple stories have a charm and nostalgia that is unique to these books, and with only one book left in the series, I know I am going to miss my visits to Thrush Green. sin reseñas | añadir una reseña
Fiction.
Literature.
HTML: A year in the life of your favorite English villagers from Thrush Green. "Miss Read's novels are sheer delight" (Chicago Tribune). No se han encontrado descripciones de biblioteca. |
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Google Books — Cargando... GénerosSistema Decimal Melvil (DDC)823.914Literature English & Old English literatures English fiction Modern Period 1901-1999 1945-1999Clasificación de la Biblioteca del CongresoValoraciónPromedio:
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Before he could decide how best to cope with this strange behaviour, Dotty had recovered herself and was rattling on again about her demise.
"It's the disposal of the body which is the difficulty, as murderers always find. I should really like to be buried in the vegetable garden. All that good humus and those minerals being released slowly into the soil would do so much for the plant growth. However, there seems to be a great reluctance to let me have my way about this, and I suppose it must be cremation after all."
"They do it very nice," said Albert comfortingly.
"Well, I hope so," said Dotty doubtfully. She picked up her mug and drank deeply.
"I suppose the ashes would contribute a certain amount of nourishment," she continued more cheerfully. "I shall tell Connie to put most of it by the rhubarb."
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'Dotty's Collywobbles' was a common local complaint, familiar to Dr. Lovell and his partners, and the inhabitants of Thrush Green and Lulling had soon learned that it was wiser not to broach any of Dotty's sinister brews. No one had actually died, but many had hoped to, when suffering from sampling Dotty's offerings. ( )