My latest book review is Everything on a Waffle by Polly Horvath.
Everything on a Waffle is a Newberry Honor. I didn't used to like Newberry books. But I really like this one. I suppose one reason why I choose juvenile over adult or young adult is the font size.
Recently I had placed holds on one of each. For the latter two, I am able to see the words better with a magnifying glass. I prefer not reading with a book in one hand and a magnifying glass in the other. And with the mornings having become darker, small fonts require more light if my eyes must read them.
Everything on a Waffle is told in first person from Primrose’s point of view. Primrose is an eleven year old that lives in a Coal Harbor, a small town in town in Canada (though it doesn’t specify which providence.) in the custody of three different guardians.
Initially she’s left with Miss Perfidy who often sits for Primrose – though, as the book starts out, becomes for an extended time and not just while mom and dad are out for the night.
Primrose’s father is a fisherman who is out during a storm. Her mother, worried about the conditions of the weather, leaves Primrose to go in search of him to bring him home. Both are lost at sea.
Primrose takes us on an adventure from the persnickety old lady to her Uncle Jack to a couple who live in city not as near to Coal Harbor as she would like.
I love the wit and humor in this book. In one chapter she tells about being hit by a car and then waking up in the noisy hospital wondering if she might be dead. She shares this thought: “This must be hell, I thought, because in heaven surely they try to keep the noise down.”
She also describes her last foster couple (who are short, plump and round as “look[ing] like a couple of kindly old hard boiled eggs”
At the end of each chapter, she shares a recipe – though most without exact measurements. There is one she shares with two alternatives: The correct way, which is good, and the kind that you might choke down just to be polite: “If you prefer Miss Perfidy’s tea biscuits, double the baking soda and leave out the vanilla.”
I also liked reading her profound thoughts:
“I was [grateful;] not just for their return but for their absence too, and where it had taken me and who I had met there. I would never go home again in quite the same way, but that was okay, too.
“. . . I left parts of myself some places and found others unexpectedly . . .”
I wish all books could touch me in such a positive way.