Beyond having cooking utensils of all sorts and sizes that she gifts to me so I can experiment my way around the kitchen and continue shouting into the blog-void (see my post on the cookie press), my mother also has very good taste in very specific genres, namely very specific non-fiction books. She also has a kitchen that is clearing rapidly as mine expands.
Given that this is a genre that I struggle to pick up and engage with, I rely on her suggestions to vary my tastes. (And for a great many other things, including but not limited to: am I dying because my stomach hurts, are my front teeth discolored, how do I get cat vomit out of an antique rug, and am I dying because my head hurts.) She knows what she likes, and she's gotten really good at knowing what we'll like as well, expanding our bookshelves with selections from all of our wonderful local bookstores, including The Book Cellar. She's knocked it out of the park in the past with books like The Boys in the Boat, When Breath Becomes Air, and (featured this week) Born a Crime.
I loved this book for many reasons, but especially because his love for his mother shines through. It's touching to read about their relationship, from the bantering to the challenges they've endured, and it makes you want to grab a cookie you made with your mom's cookie press, give her a call, and make sure that the cramp you have in your leg isn't deep vein thrombosis.