Rutabaga

Speechless and happy, she sat with her lips pressed tightly together beneath the big sunbonnet that hid the rag-wound corkscrews on her sore little head.

And when the team crossed the Vermillion and passed the sod shanty on the bluffs, she did not even turn her head from the long straight road that stretched westward to glance at the Swede boy who had come out to see her go by.

But before the ride was half over, she grew very tired.

So after she had sleepily dropped the shoes and the robe into the hay in the wagon box several times, she munched a cookie, drank some buttermilk, and was lifted to the hind seat where the biggest brother held her in his arms.

The Christmas before, Santa Claus had stingily dropped but one present down the long stovepipe that carried up smoke from the sitting room stove.

One present to serve as both a holiday and a birthday remembrance, and that had been a big, ugly crockery doll's head with bumpy brown hair, staring blue eyes, fat pink cheeks, and flinty shoulders.

The gift, aided by the confidences of the Swede boy, had almost shaken her belief in Santa Claus, whom she had asked in a letter to give her a bought riding whip and a book that told more about Robinson Crusoe.

Instead, the homely head had been left, and she felt sure, and the Swede boy assured her, that it could only have been picked out for her by the eldest brother.

Its neurodivergent narrator, Matilda, is just getting her feet wet in the world of literary event management.

Put to work on planning the appearance of an author named Dr. Jordan Rutabaga, Matilda tumbles down a rabbit hole of Rutabaga research, including acquiring the ingredients for a Rutabaga soup, as well as a Rutabaga still-life painting inspired by the work of Myra Kalman.

That's the way things go in this novel, driven as much by language play, whimsy, and an obsession with Myra Kalman as by more sober narrative concerns.

These concerns, not really all that sober, revolve around the project of holding an event for Dr. Rutabaga at the Lincoln Theater, a 1,200-seat venue which will sell out as soon as tickets go on sale.

Of no help at all will be Matilda's new co-worker, a wildly self-absorbed woman named Sage, who has a purse pooch named Janet.

Though Sage is tasked with assembling the snacks for the green room, it's Matilda who ends up with Rutabaga's bizarre shopping list.

Butter, Kerrygold, unsalted.

One-gallon milk, but not real milk, lactate 2%, gas X, cherry cream flavor, and more.

I slept in a room that never had a fire in it, and I often woke up in the morning to find snow covering the outside covers of the bed.

There was a place near Arnott called Swedie Town, and the company's agents went there to get the Swedes to break the strike.

I was holding a meeting among the farmers when I heard of the company's efforts.

I got the young farmers to get on their horses and go over to Swedie Town and see that no Swede left town.

For this purpose, it will suffice to describe the Norfolk or four-course rotation.

This rotation begins with a root crop, usually Swede turnips, manured with phosphates and potash too on the lighter lands.

This crop, as already described, provides the opportunity of cleaning the land.

It produces also a large amount of food for sheep and cattle.

I have to say for me, it's Lucas Raymond.

He's a fellow Swede.

He's an underrated stud amongst all the young NHL talent.

He's a good, I think, blossoming superstar, a bright spot in an otherwise dark franchise.

Nashville Predators, I like Philip Forsberg.

I wish there was a way that the Avalanche could have gotten him here.

Once again, another Swede.

Maybe there's a theme here.

Oh, here, do you want this medal? This can be your fan club number one fan medal.

It says Rutabaga from Kroger, but just disregard that, and you can have that.

Awesome.

Wait, can you breathe on it first?