Life Among the Savages by Shirley Jackson

A hilariously charming memoir of Shirley Jackson and her family's life in rural Vermont: children who won't behave, cars that won't start, furnaces that break down, a pugnacious corner bully, household help that never stays, and a patient, capable husband who remains lovingly oblivious to the many thousands of things mothers and wives accomplish every single day.

Re-read: just as delightful the second time ‘round. Highly recommended as a refreshing antidote to perfect-mommy books and blogs, for Jackson admits to mistakes, fears, annoyances, anger, and the desire, to paraphrase my grandmother, to throw up her hands and run out the back door.
Grandma's full saying bears documentation in this context, for Jackson could have said it herself. When the family would have her at wits' end, Grandma would threaten to throw up her hands and run out the back door, and not stop until she reached Dix Hill.
Dix Hill was local slang for the Dorothea Dix Psychiatric Hospital.

Bits were amazing, the whole was less than...
It was a bit muddled, and sometimes the humor wasn't to my taste, but I'm reading the sequel.

As I am not into horror, i thought reading her funny memoir about raising young children in the 1940ies was a good introduction to Shirley Jackson. And I was delighted by these domestic adventures and misadventures of raising a band of little precocious rascals speaking quaint English. Jackson's narration is straight out comedic and also cheeky. And even though at times she slightly overuses the comedic technique of repetition, I came out of it insanely charmed by Laurie, Jannie and little Sally.

A good time. A good listen. Like watching a really good black and white movie.