She is seventy years old. She lives in a little house. Her husband of fifty years passed away last year, and she misses him every single day - but she also just made the best batch of cranberry sauce of her life, a cardinal has taken up residence on her fence post, and her neighbor across the street is possibly the grumpiest man she has ever met, which she finds deeply wonderful.
The Pickled Egg is a year in the life of a woman who has decided, against all reasonable evidence, that things are mostly good. It is a book about grief and gladness and lemon bars and the particular way morning light comes through a kitchen window when you are paying attention.
It will make you laugh. It may make you cry a little. It will almost certainly make you want a pickled egg.