On Thanksgiving i am thankful for many things. I have a good life. I have been blessed with much. But as this is a blog about books and food.... well, at this moment, I am thankful for books and food! Specifics, you ask? Well, when it comes to food, you can pretty much stick it on a plate and place it in front of me. When it comes to reading material, stick it in front of my nose and chances are I'll give it at least a quick perusal.
I am thankful for books. I don't know how my parents instilled such a love of reading in me. Certainly they loved to read themselves. And although my siblings all learned the love of books, somehow with me they became as important as air. And still are. I have many times recommended books and authors to family and friends, coworkers and even strangers on the bus, and given them lists for themselves and for their children. The lists are always incomplete, for how do you, how can you, possibly make a list of recommended reading, even for yourself, that will ever be complete, when people's tastes change, when our own tastes change? When our political viewpoint and philosophical worldview change, sometimes returning to their roots, sometimes into new paths never before explored? What I read and enjoyed as a kid, I don't now. But on the other hand, I do. And I have recently discovered how much I missed as a kid.
So I present the following list of books - title, series, authors - that I am thankful for today; listed as they come to mind or as I glance through my bookshelves for memory jogs, and not in order of importance, because if I were to make this list tomorrow, I might think of them in a different order, but that won't make them any less important. They are books which I return to every five years or so and books I read once and might never read again but which I remember fondly when seeing them because they influenced me for good at the time I read them which may have been last year, five, ten, fifteen, twenty... whoops, starting to date myself here -- many years ago. They are books which first turned me on to a new author, even if it wasn't that author's best work or their first work or even the first in that series. They are fiction and nonfiction, mystery and fantasy and science fiction and religious and scientific; they are uplifting or silly, thought provoking or mental pablum. They are recent discoveries and recent rediscoveries. They are new and old in their publication dates; they are books which were better than the movies based upon them and books which had little to do with the movies they supposedly inspired. They are books I first read in beat up paperbacks, or leather bound hardcovers, or electronic format; they are books I purchased on a whim knowing nothing about them or books which were gifts or books borrowed from the public library or lent by a friend or assigned in a high school English class due to that long standing and somewhat sadistic program of forcing children to read books which have no relevancy in their lives and suck the joy of reading out of children's minds and hearts (but somehow an occasional good book slips through.) These are the books which occupy much wall and floor space in every room of my home but which also occupy the corridors of my soul. The only categorization I file them under is somewhat loose themes, but sometimes those themes overlap much as my reading does, for although I have but one nose, it sniffs multiple books throughout every day.
The Bible. The Book of Mormon. Doctrine and Covenants. The Pearl of Great Price. The Screwtape Letters. Mere Christianity. Even As I Am. Infinite Atonement. Great Shall Be Your Joy. Lighten Up. Act In Doctrine. Standing For Something. Prophecy In Modern Times. The Broken Heart.
A Wrinkle In Time. A Wind At the Door. The Dark is Rising. So You Want To Be a Wizard. Deep Wizardry. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. The Magic Thief. Peter Pan. Rose Daughter. Inkheart. Dragon Slippers. Treasure Island. Time Stops For No Mouse. Larklight. Heartlight. The Secret of Platform 13. Amulet. Escape To Witch Mountain. The Forgotten Door. The Phantom Tollbooth. Five Children and It. Breadcrumbs. Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos. The Illyrian Adventure. The Book of Three. Taran Wanderer. Westmark. House of Stairs. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Airborn. Bedknob and Broomstick. The Ordinary Princess. A Hidden Magic. Over Sea, Under Stone. Unicorns In the Rain. Coraline. Wizard's Hall. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Charlotte's Web. Stuart Little. The Great Brain. Mary Poppins. The Lost Island. Dragonsong. Hugo. Kidnapped.
The Outsiders. To Kill a Mockingbird. Jane Eyre. Joy in the Morning. Pride and Prejudice. It's Like This, Cat. The Penderwicks. The Penderwicks on Gardham Street. A Ring of Endless Light. Saffy's Angel. Dolphin Luck. A Christmas Carol. The Christmas Box. The Long Winter (Wilder). Shane. Old Yeller. The Devil's Arithmetic. Jacob Have I Loved. Holes. Dear Mr Henshaw. From the Mixed-Up Files Of Mrs Basil E Frankweiler. A Mustard Seed of Magic. A Door Near Here. My Side of the Mountain. It's Nothing To a Mountain. Johnny Tremain. April Morning. Speak. Dreamland. Just Listen. The Four Million. Rainbow Valley.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Fahrenheit 451. The Time Machine. War of the Worlds. Iron Rain. But What of Earth. Pilgrimage. Empty World. No Blade of Grass. The Long Winter (Christopher). The White Mountains. The Third Level. The Last Oasis. Uglies. The Giver. Life As We Knew it. Z For Zechariah. Whispers From the Grave. Among the Hidden. House of the Scorpion. Stonewolf. A Spell For Chameleon. The Folk Of the Fringe. Seventh Son.
The 39 Steps. The Haunted Bookshop. The Face of A Stranger. The Cater Street Hangman. The Unexpected Mrs Pollifax. Chasing Vermeer. The Arm of the Starfish. The Secret Ways. The Victoria Vanishes. Aunt Dimity's Death. Murder At the Vicarage. Jar City. Gambit. A Stranger is Watching. Don't Talk to Strangers. Nightfall. The Callender Papers. No 1 Ladies Detective Agency. Crocodile on the Sandbank. Evans Above. Defend and Betray. The Anodyne Necklace. A Sunless Sea. Hardy Boys Mysteries (the older books). Nancy Drew Mysteries (the older books). Judy Bolton Mysteries. Trixie Beldon Mysteries. A Christmas Promise. A Christmas Garland. Mystery of the Strange Traveler. the Moon-Spinners. The Young Unicorns.
Winnie-the-Pooh. The Red Book. The Mysteries of Harris Burdick. Ellen's Lion. Harold and the purple Crayon. Caps For Sale. Imogene's Antlers. A Hole Is to Dig. Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day. CDB. One Was Johnny. Where The Wild Things Are. The Jungle Book.
One's Company. There's An Adult In My Soup. Gift From the Sea. Father to Son. I want To Grow Hair, I Want To Grow up, I Want To Go To Boise. All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten. Things I Overheard While Talking To Myself. Random Acts of Kindness. Letters To Karen. The Five love Languages. Love Must Be Tough. Change Your Brain, Change Your Life. Reviving Ophelia. A Thatched Roof. Three Cups of Tea. Abraham. West With the Night. The Endless Steppe. Mr God, This Is Anna. The Hiding Place.
Whiskers and Rhymes. Out In the Dark and Daylight. Now We Are Six. You Read To Me, I'll Read To You. A Light In the Attic. The Dragons Are Singing Tonight. A Child's Garden of Verses.
What am I forgetting? Probably a great deal! In going through my books and thinking, Oh, I remember that! or I know that touched me, but I don't remember why; maybe I should read it again? it is pretty easy to understand why I have more books than I can plug into shelves. even after working at it for a year. Some books are relatively easy to pass on, others not so much. I can tell myself, "If it touched you or entertained you ten years ago but doesn't move you now, let someone else enjoy it" - but there's a part of me that wonders, "What if I want to revisit it again, maybe even soon?" When I started listing the books i am thankful for, I did not expect the list to be quite so long. Many of my favorites are already on dedicated shelves for that. Many of what I have listed here tonight were favorites when I read them, but for some it was twenty or even thirty years ago. Were I to reread those books today, would they move me in the same way, even if they make my smile now to look at them?
Perhaps I ought to pay attention to the depth, to the degree, of emotional response when I see that book I've not touched for one, two, three decades - is it immediate; is it intense? Do I really want to relive it again? Do I need to, as my needs have changed? Or can I consider their missions fulfilled and release them? Can I be thankful for what they meant then and let someone else enjoy those treasures now?
Curious questions to ask myself. Perhaps the best way to show gratitude for all these reads is to let someone else own them. Or at least borrow them.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Banned Books Week 2013
My thoughts on the matter of banned books haven't changed much since I posted about it a couple years ago. I don't like it. But the same freedom of speech that gives people the right to write and speak the things I find offensive gives me the right to object. Sometimes those standing up for freedom of speech and freedom to write whatever they want forget that.
Banned Books Week is a bit of a misnomer anyway, and has been for years. Books are very seldom pulled from shelves. Yes, they are often challenged, and sometimes by people who are acting from what they think they heard from someone who heard from someone else who read the back cover of the book ten years ago - rather than read the book themselves - but that's a different animal. It's short sighted, but it's not inherently evil of them, nor inherently stupid, unenlightened and uncivilized of them, as those who challenge books are generally portrayed. Generally, they are objecting because they have beliefs every bit as strong as those who write the things they object to. And that's wrong? I think not. It's wrong to say "You can't write that, you can't think that, you can't publish that." But you know what? The vast majority of the challenges every year are simply people - usually parents, vile creatures that parents tend to be - saying, "I don't want my child to read that. I don't want them to be forced to read that." But under the guise of protecting free speech, people come along and say, "How dare you object! Get with the program and think the way we do!" Poppycock. (Whoops, I shouldn't have written that - anyone who knows the literal translation of that word will surely be offended and have my blog banned!)
Too many people are interested in freedom of speech only if it's their own speech that's free. Everyone else is wrong. I am glad the American Library Association fights for freedom of speech. I hope they do for many years to come. But I get annoyed when snide remarks are made about not the challenges to the books themselves, but rather the challengers. In doing so, they are - intentionally or unintentionally a moot point - denying the right to object. I find that every bit as scary as having some of my favorite reads some day become unavailable. It's the exact same narrow minded thinking which leads to challenging and banning in the first place.
The very fact that challenges continue to happen tell me our freedoms are still vibrantly healthy. Nobody is disappearing following their speaking out and the populace is not being told they never existed in the first place, as in George Orwell's 1984. No one is having their homes raided and all their books burned by the Firemen, like in Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451. I think I can understand why people are afraid of the slippery slope which could lead to such dystopian societies. But just because something could conceivably happen, doesn't mean it already has. It doesn't mean that if they believe a school library should have such a book, that they have the nefarious intent of undermining society. Nope, they only have the nefarious intent of protecting their own families. Educate them. Tell them why you think the book is important, even what merit you think it has. Even if they think their rights trumps yours, explain why that isn't so. But to tell people they don't have the right to object? Uh-uh. You do. They do. Simple as that.
Another thought. I've read a number of blog posts and editorials suggesting we all "should" read banned books - even providing suggested reading lists - as if doing so carries some sort of badge of honor. Pfft. Myself, I read the books I want to read. Occasionally someone has said I shouldn't, but they usually say so off stage, and I read it in utter ignorance, only learning of my folly when the ALA release the next "Most Frequently Challenged Books" list. Sometimes the controversy has lead me to a book I wouldn't have known about otherwise, but even then, I read it because it piqued my curiosity. Many of those books I'm "not supposed to" read I don't want to read anyway, because they have no appeal for me - not because I'm unenlightened or afraid of having my beliefs challenged.
It's downright silly to read a book you don't want to read because someone else didn't want to read it either. This proves.... what exactly? Read to enlighten your mind, to learn new viewpoints, even to see what all the hullabaloo is about. But most of all, read because you enjoy reading, and read what you want to read. Read Huckleberry Finn. Read The Adventures of Captain Underpants. A Child Called It. To Kill a Mockingbird. The Chocolate War. Lord of the Flies. Lord of the Rings. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Of Mice and Men. A Wrinkle In Time. The Catcher In the Rye. Breakfast At Tiffany's. The Great Gatsby. A Separate Peace.
Some of those in the list above I have read a half dozen times and I love them. Some I have read and personally loathed. Some I have never read and do not plans to. Read them anyway. Because I told you to! No, seriously, read them. Or don't.
Pick up a book everybody loves, read a few pages, decide it's not for you, and burn--- I mean, calmly put it back on the shelf for the next person to read. Pick up a book everyone hates and read a few pages and decide that that everyone is correct, the book actually does indeed suck. Or buy it because you fell in love with the first page.
If someone wonders why you didn't like a book, tell them. Maybe doing so will offend them. People sometimes take it personally if your tastes don't match theirs. Apologize and buy them a hot cocoa. If you think it's inappropriate for your child to read an assigned book, call the school and ask for an alternate title. If someone else in your community objects, support their right to exercise their right to do so - even if you disagree with them. Support their freedom, even if you don't support their viewpoint.
Because freedom of speech shouldn't be limited to the printed word, nor to a bestseller list, or a banned books list or any list at all. It shouldn't be confined to the recommendations of talk show hosts and Hollywood shills or political pundits. Nor should it be dictated by controversy. Freedom of speech - indeed, all of our freedoms, carry with them the responsibility to protect those freedoms, not just for ourselves, but also for those we disagree with. The minute we attempt to silence those whose opinions we disagree with - and those disagreeing with us - we grant permission to others to silence us.
Banned Books Week is a bit of a misnomer anyway, and has been for years. Books are very seldom pulled from shelves. Yes, they are often challenged, and sometimes by people who are acting from what they think they heard from someone who heard from someone else who read the back cover of the book ten years ago - rather than read the book themselves - but that's a different animal. It's short sighted, but it's not inherently evil of them, nor inherently stupid, unenlightened and uncivilized of them, as those who challenge books are generally portrayed. Generally, they are objecting because they have beliefs every bit as strong as those who write the things they object to. And that's wrong? I think not. It's wrong to say "You can't write that, you can't think that, you can't publish that." But you know what? The vast majority of the challenges every year are simply people - usually parents, vile creatures that parents tend to be - saying, "I don't want my child to read that. I don't want them to be forced to read that." But under the guise of protecting free speech, people come along and say, "How dare you object! Get with the program and think the way we do!" Poppycock. (Whoops, I shouldn't have written that - anyone who knows the literal translation of that word will surely be offended and have my blog banned!)
Too many people are interested in freedom of speech only if it's their own speech that's free. Everyone else is wrong. I am glad the American Library Association fights for freedom of speech. I hope they do for many years to come. But I get annoyed when snide remarks are made about not the challenges to the books themselves, but rather the challengers. In doing so, they are - intentionally or unintentionally a moot point - denying the right to object. I find that every bit as scary as having some of my favorite reads some day become unavailable. It's the exact same narrow minded thinking which leads to challenging and banning in the first place.
The very fact that challenges continue to happen tell me our freedoms are still vibrantly healthy. Nobody is disappearing following their speaking out and the populace is not being told they never existed in the first place, as in George Orwell's 1984. No one is having their homes raided and all their books burned by the Firemen, like in Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451. I think I can understand why people are afraid of the slippery slope which could lead to such dystopian societies. But just because something could conceivably happen, doesn't mean it already has. It doesn't mean that if they believe a school library should have such a book, that they have the nefarious intent of undermining society. Nope, they only have the nefarious intent of protecting their own families. Educate them. Tell them why you think the book is important, even what merit you think it has. Even if they think their rights trumps yours, explain why that isn't so. But to tell people they don't have the right to object? Uh-uh. You do. They do. Simple as that.
Another thought. I've read a number of blog posts and editorials suggesting we all "should" read banned books - even providing suggested reading lists - as if doing so carries some sort of badge of honor. Pfft. Myself, I read the books I want to read. Occasionally someone has said I shouldn't, but they usually say so off stage, and I read it in utter ignorance, only learning of my folly when the ALA release the next "Most Frequently Challenged Books" list. Sometimes the controversy has lead me to a book I wouldn't have known about otherwise, but even then, I read it because it piqued my curiosity. Many of those books I'm "not supposed to" read I don't want to read anyway, because they have no appeal for me - not because I'm unenlightened or afraid of having my beliefs challenged.
It's downright silly to read a book you don't want to read because someone else didn't want to read it either. This proves.... what exactly? Read to enlighten your mind, to learn new viewpoints, even to see what all the hullabaloo is about. But most of all, read because you enjoy reading, and read what you want to read. Read Huckleberry Finn. Read The Adventures of Captain Underpants. A Child Called It. To Kill a Mockingbird. The Chocolate War. Lord of the Flies. Lord of the Rings. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Of Mice and Men. A Wrinkle In Time. The Catcher In the Rye. Breakfast At Tiffany's. The Great Gatsby. A Separate Peace.
Some of those in the list above I have read a half dozen times and I love them. Some I have read and personally loathed. Some I have never read and do not plans to. Read them anyway. Because I told you to! No, seriously, read them. Or don't.
Pick up a book everybody loves, read a few pages, decide it's not for you, and burn--- I mean, calmly put it back on the shelf for the next person to read. Pick up a book everyone hates and read a few pages and decide that that everyone is correct, the book actually does indeed suck. Or buy it because you fell in love with the first page.
If someone wonders why you didn't like a book, tell them. Maybe doing so will offend them. People sometimes take it personally if your tastes don't match theirs. Apologize and buy them a hot cocoa. If you think it's inappropriate for your child to read an assigned book, call the school and ask for an alternate title. If someone else in your community objects, support their right to exercise their right to do so - even if you disagree with them. Support their freedom, even if you don't support their viewpoint.
Because freedom of speech shouldn't be limited to the printed word, nor to a bestseller list, or a banned books list or any list at all. It shouldn't be confined to the recommendations of talk show hosts and Hollywood shills or political pundits. Nor should it be dictated by controversy. Freedom of speech - indeed, all of our freedoms, carry with them the responsibility to protect those freedoms, not just for ourselves, but also for those we disagree with. The minute we attempt to silence those whose opinions we disagree with - and those disagreeing with us - we grant permission to others to silence us.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Festival Food
Summer and Autumn -- time for community fairs and festivals. Time for wall-to-wall people (sans walls, of course, as these festivals are generally held outdoors) many of whom are walking around in a half stupor, stopping suddenly or reversing direction like a human pinball. It pays to keep one eye on all the sights and another on all the people keeping both eyes on all the sights. Time for really bad "art" and "crafts"; time for really good but exorbitantly priced arts and crafts; seven dollar soaps, twenty dollar lotions, twelve dollar salsas and mustards.
In years past I caught nearly all the community festivals, but the last couple of years my planning has been poor and I have missed out. I'm pretty much a hermit by nature and because of this I generally avoid crowds. Yet there's a peculiar energy present at these community festivals; one that somehow rejuvenates me rather than zapping me as crowds usually do.
If the energy of the crowd doesn't do it, every festival is replete with energy-giving food. To paraphrase the orphans in the musical Oliver! :
Food, glorious food! Fat, sugar and chol-es-ter-ol!
Okay, so it's overpriced. If you eat before attending you might be able to stave off the hunger pains until you leave and find an actual restaurant three blocks from the festival, and get twice the food for the same amount of your hard earned money. However, you probably won't find dill pickles on sticks, roasted garlic, homemade root beer, deep fried Oreos, or deep fried alligator bites.
Tonight I made a last minute decision to stop at the Arvada Harvest Festival. I was on my way home but not ready to go home and I hadn't been to a festival since the Chocolate Affair (also in Arvada and one of my favorite annual events) in February. Having not initially planned to stop, I had already drunk the water I carry with me on my daily commute, so of course I was thirsty when I got there. I could either buy a generic two dollar bottled water or wander about until I found the two dollar fresh squeezed lemonade -- which was tart, as lemonade is supposed to be. Well, that was an easy decision. If I'm going to pay too much, I might as well support my dentist while I'm at it.
Thirst quenched, it was time to eat. Check my pockets. I had enough for the lemonade. Oh, but look - the nice festival people have conveniently placed an ATM directly in my path. They are not altogether altruistic for doing this. Despite displaying every banking network logo on the planet -- usually a sign there will be no fee, but not so at festivals and performing arts centers -- there is a higher-than average fee to which my financial institution will tack on another for using a "foreign ATM" (funny, the instructions were in English). Ah well, I just saw the sign for fried alligator bites and so I succumb.
I learn tonight that my sense of humor is both a blessing... and a curse. I step up to the counter and ask if the alligator bites are from domestic or wild gators. Either I can't tell a joke properly or I can tell one very well -- the poor lady looks confused and repeats my question to the others. The teenage girl doesn't appear to know nor particularly care. The man informs me that they bought the alligator meat from a firm out in Florida and tells me it is FDA Approved. I am not certain if he really was trying to assure me or if he simply delivered his line as deadpan as I did mine.
The alligator, by the way, was very tasty, and although not as large a portion as a third pound hamburger or "foot long" hot dog with all the trimmings, infinitely more satisfying. Last year at the same festival I'd had some very tasty catfish and sweet potato fries. The man ahead of me tonight had purchased a Gyros for himself and corn dogs for his four boys. He pointed out to them that with what he was spending tonight, he could feed them for two weeks at home. The children fell to their knees and thanked their father profusely. Actually, they simply ate their corn dogs in a silence, but I am certain that silence was pensively grateful.
I needed a veggie so I bought an ear of roasted corn. Yes, I know, corn is a cereal grain, not a vegetable. But I couldn't find the booth selling pickles-on-a-stick. Close enough. And oh, oh, oh, how sweet it was. Where did they find such sweet corn? Must be festival magic. Corn in the store sure isn't this sweet.
And for dessert: a deep fried Oreo. More because my curiosity was piqued than because I thought (which I didn't) such a thing would be tasty (which it was, surprisingly) and although I could have eaten Oreos for two weeks on that same dollar (okay, only one week) -- well, it's festival food.
In years past I caught nearly all the community festivals, but the last couple of years my planning has been poor and I have missed out. I'm pretty much a hermit by nature and because of this I generally avoid crowds. Yet there's a peculiar energy present at these community festivals; one that somehow rejuvenates me rather than zapping me as crowds usually do.
If the energy of the crowd doesn't do it, every festival is replete with energy-giving food. To paraphrase the orphans in the musical Oliver! :
Food, glorious food! Fat, sugar and chol-es-ter-ol!
Okay, so it's overpriced. If you eat before attending you might be able to stave off the hunger pains until you leave and find an actual restaurant three blocks from the festival, and get twice the food for the same amount of your hard earned money. However, you probably won't find dill pickles on sticks, roasted garlic, homemade root beer, deep fried Oreos, or deep fried alligator bites.
Tonight I made a last minute decision to stop at the Arvada Harvest Festival. I was on my way home but not ready to go home and I hadn't been to a festival since the Chocolate Affair (also in Arvada and one of my favorite annual events) in February. Having not initially planned to stop, I had already drunk the water I carry with me on my daily commute, so of course I was thirsty when I got there. I could either buy a generic two dollar bottled water or wander about until I found the two dollar fresh squeezed lemonade -- which was tart, as lemonade is supposed to be. Well, that was an easy decision. If I'm going to pay too much, I might as well support my dentist while I'm at it.
Thirst quenched, it was time to eat. Check my pockets. I had enough for the lemonade. Oh, but look - the nice festival people have conveniently placed an ATM directly in my path. They are not altogether altruistic for doing this. Despite displaying every banking network logo on the planet -- usually a sign there will be no fee, but not so at festivals and performing arts centers -- there is a higher-than average fee to which my financial institution will tack on another for using a "foreign ATM" (funny, the instructions were in English). Ah well, I just saw the sign for fried alligator bites and so I succumb.
I learn tonight that my sense of humor is both a blessing... and a curse. I step up to the counter and ask if the alligator bites are from domestic or wild gators. Either I can't tell a joke properly or I can tell one very well -- the poor lady looks confused and repeats my question to the others. The teenage girl doesn't appear to know nor particularly care. The man informs me that they bought the alligator meat from a firm out in Florida and tells me it is FDA Approved. I am not certain if he really was trying to assure me or if he simply delivered his line as deadpan as I did mine.
The alligator, by the way, was very tasty, and although not as large a portion as a third pound hamburger or "foot long" hot dog with all the trimmings, infinitely more satisfying. Last year at the same festival I'd had some very tasty catfish and sweet potato fries. The man ahead of me tonight had purchased a Gyros for himself and corn dogs for his four boys. He pointed out to them that with what he was spending tonight, he could feed them for two weeks at home. The children fell to their knees and thanked their father profusely. Actually, they simply ate their corn dogs in a silence, but I am certain that silence was pensively grateful.
I needed a veggie so I bought an ear of roasted corn. Yes, I know, corn is a cereal grain, not a vegetable. But I couldn't find the booth selling pickles-on-a-stick. Close enough. And oh, oh, oh, how sweet it was. Where did they find such sweet corn? Must be festival magic. Corn in the store sure isn't this sweet.
And for dessert: a deep fried Oreo. More because my curiosity was piqued than because I thought (which I didn't) such a thing would be tasty (which it was, surprisingly) and although I could have eaten Oreos for two weeks on that same dollar (okay, only one week) -- well, it's festival food.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Sue Grafton's Kinsey and Me
I've only read two of Sue Grafton's famous "alphabet mysteries", maybe three, but two that I actually remember elements from. For the record, they are "K" and "C", in that order, and I seem to recall reading "B", but thumbing through the book just now, nothing truly leaps out at me, so perhaps I read it while half asleep, and it's time to read it again.
After reading "Kinsey and Me", a collection of short stories, I think perhaps it is time to again pick up one of her novels. This lady can craft a mighty fine story.
In case you don't know, Sue Grafton's heroine is 30-something year old, divorced twice, ex-cop turned private eye, Kinsey Millhone. We the readers are told this, in some variation of those words, at the opening of every story, and this collection of short stories originally published in magazines and anthologies, is no exception. Each novel takes a letter of the alphabet and ties it to a crime: "A is for Alibi", "B is for Burglary", "C is for Corpse"etc. The series was begun in 1982, and the stories have remained in the eighties. Kinsey solves the crimes without the aid of the Internet, GPS tracking, or anything else but brains, guts, perseverance, wit, and no small amount of luck.
I found the book while browsing and decided that while I had enjoyed the novels, it wasn't enough to work my way through the entire alphabet. The ones I had read I hadn't read in order, and with each new novel, the task of "catching up" seemed more daunting, as "W" is being published this fall. But a collection of short stories? Sure, I could do that, and if I didn't finish all the stories before the public library respectfully requests the return of their book because other patrons are waiting (this happens to me a lot), I'll still have enjoyed a mystery or two and not have to wait another two or three months for it to be my turn again (also something that happens often).
Many writers have said it is harder to write a short story than it is a novel. I believe this. You don't have time to flesh out a character. Dialog and plot must be concise and you have to win your reader over in 5, 15, 35 pages - not 200, 300, 1100 (nothing against Victor Hugo!) This collection of Kinsey Millhone stories does that, superbly. Dead and disappearing bodies, guns with a history of disappearing and reappearing years later in other crimes, and dysfunctional families are some of the plot lines. My favorites were the slightly creepy ending of "Falling Off the Roof" and the poetic justice of "Full Circle".
the last Kinsey story was commissioned by Lands End for a 40th anniversary catalog in which she plugged one of their jackets. I've read some reviews in which the reviewers were not amused by this story. Myself, I thought it was funny, taking the rapier wit of the character and throwing in product placement for a very nice jacket which I myself used to own. It wasn't intended to be a serious story and I didn't take it as such. Its lightheartedness I felt was a nice segue into the second half of the book.
The second half is actually less than half the book, although it contains half again as many stories. The character in these stories is Kit Blue which the author states is a younger version of herself, in stories she wrote in the years following her mother's death. They are somewhat autobiographical. And they are heartrending. I read the book front to back, although I was tempted to skip ahead, for the knowledge of the inclusion of these stories is what prompted me to put myself on the waiting list for the book. I was curious to see how the author writing about growing up in a household with alcoholic parents might have affected her writing. I didn't really get that question answered.
What I did see in these stories were people I know. Not necessarily those with addictions, unless loneliness and despair can be considered addictions. If you have lived on this planet for more than a decade and you haven't been living under a rock, you know people like Kit Blue's mother and father. You know people who the more you love them, the more they wilt. And you've probably wondered what more you can do for them, and agonized over the fact that your love for them is not only rejected but it somehow inexplicably hurts them. And you've had to struggle to believe what is obviously the truth even though the evidence apparently contradicts it: that their pain is not your fault.
I'm not sure that's what the author intended in combining the two very diverse sets of stories. It's what I got out of it, however. Reading these stories, you probably won't get any answers as to how to help the hurting. But as the stories progress you will journey with Kit past anger and chaos to hope and love. as the author writes, "I wish life could be edited as deftly as prose... what I've noticed, though, is that any attempt to trim out the dark matter takes away some of the good that was also buried in the muck. The past is a package deal and I don't believe there's a way to tell some of the truth without telling most. Wisdom comes at a price."
I'll be honest. Even though I checked the book out for the "and Me" stories, I enjoyed the "Kinsey" stories more. Both, however, make for compelling reading, blending well that can't-put-it-down-edness we readers crave with short segments which allow us to put it down. Both Kinsey and Kit are very likable heroines: kind, smart, courageous and persevering.
After reading "Kinsey and Me", a collection of short stories, I think perhaps it is time to again pick up one of her novels. This lady can craft a mighty fine story.
In case you don't know, Sue Grafton's heroine is 30-something year old, divorced twice, ex-cop turned private eye, Kinsey Millhone. We the readers are told this, in some variation of those words, at the opening of every story, and this collection of short stories originally published in magazines and anthologies, is no exception. Each novel takes a letter of the alphabet and ties it to a crime: "A is for Alibi", "B is for Burglary", "C is for Corpse"etc. The series was begun in 1982, and the stories have remained in the eighties. Kinsey solves the crimes without the aid of the Internet, GPS tracking, or anything else but brains, guts, perseverance, wit, and no small amount of luck.
I found the book while browsing and decided that while I had enjoyed the novels, it wasn't enough to work my way through the entire alphabet. The ones I had read I hadn't read in order, and with each new novel, the task of "catching up" seemed more daunting, as "W" is being published this fall. But a collection of short stories? Sure, I could do that, and if I didn't finish all the stories before the public library respectfully requests the return of their book because other patrons are waiting (this happens to me a lot), I'll still have enjoyed a mystery or two and not have to wait another two or three months for it to be my turn again (also something that happens often).
Many writers have said it is harder to write a short story than it is a novel. I believe this. You don't have time to flesh out a character. Dialog and plot must be concise and you have to win your reader over in 5, 15, 35 pages - not 200, 300, 1100 (nothing against Victor Hugo!) This collection of Kinsey Millhone stories does that, superbly. Dead and disappearing bodies, guns with a history of disappearing and reappearing years later in other crimes, and dysfunctional families are some of the plot lines. My favorites were the slightly creepy ending of "Falling Off the Roof" and the poetic justice of "Full Circle".
the last Kinsey story was commissioned by Lands End for a 40th anniversary catalog in which she plugged one of their jackets. I've read some reviews in which the reviewers were not amused by this story. Myself, I thought it was funny, taking the rapier wit of the character and throwing in product placement for a very nice jacket which I myself used to own. It wasn't intended to be a serious story and I didn't take it as such. Its lightheartedness I felt was a nice segue into the second half of the book.
The second half is actually less than half the book, although it contains half again as many stories. The character in these stories is Kit Blue which the author states is a younger version of herself, in stories she wrote in the years following her mother's death. They are somewhat autobiographical. And they are heartrending. I read the book front to back, although I was tempted to skip ahead, for the knowledge of the inclusion of these stories is what prompted me to put myself on the waiting list for the book. I was curious to see how the author writing about growing up in a household with alcoholic parents might have affected her writing. I didn't really get that question answered.
What I did see in these stories were people I know. Not necessarily those with addictions, unless loneliness and despair can be considered addictions. If you have lived on this planet for more than a decade and you haven't been living under a rock, you know people like Kit Blue's mother and father. You know people who the more you love them, the more they wilt. And you've probably wondered what more you can do for them, and agonized over the fact that your love for them is not only rejected but it somehow inexplicably hurts them. And you've had to struggle to believe what is obviously the truth even though the evidence apparently contradicts it: that their pain is not your fault.
I'm not sure that's what the author intended in combining the two very diverse sets of stories. It's what I got out of it, however. Reading these stories, you probably won't get any answers as to how to help the hurting. But as the stories progress you will journey with Kit past anger and chaos to hope and love. as the author writes, "I wish life could be edited as deftly as prose... what I've noticed, though, is that any attempt to trim out the dark matter takes away some of the good that was also buried in the muck. The past is a package deal and I don't believe there's a way to tell some of the truth without telling most. Wisdom comes at a price."
I'll be honest. Even though I checked the book out for the "and Me" stories, I enjoyed the "Kinsey" stories more. Both, however, make for compelling reading, blending well that can't-put-it-down-edness we readers crave with short segments which allow us to put it down. Both Kinsey and Kit are very likable heroines: kind, smart, courageous and persevering.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Fresh - Delivered!
Since the beginning of the year I've been trying to eat more produce but like with most times I have made the resolve to do so, it's been a struggle simply because of the way produce makes it to the grocery store: mass produced and engineered for looks rather than taste, then picked before it is ripe so it spoils quickly. The reason people don't eat their fruits and vegetables is because they don't taste all that great.
I decided this year if I could spend a little more money to buy a little higher quality cheeses, chocolates and root beers, I could certainly spend more on my produce. I had the previous year gotten oranges delivered straight from the Florida groves and i did it again this year, followed by some Meyer lemons - who knew lemons could actually be almost sweet? - and this summer I had blueberries and cherries delivered. Friends and family got a false impression on the strength of my pocketbook and probably questioned my sanity for the money I was spending. but here's the thing: the food didn't go to waste, and here's the reason why: it was good. Not simply "good" as in "tasty" - it was that - but good as in fresh, ripe. I know, not all store-bought produce is bad. Every now and then I'll get a really good tomato or peach. But the others I bought the same day from the same bin in the same store are not. It's hard to get enthused about eating healthy when the supposedly healthy food doesn't taste good and spoils in your refrigerator.
And there is no shortage of groves willing to ship directly to you. Depending upon the season and how close you are to the groves, you might have to pay a premium for shipping. Some groves had great prices but their shipping policies put the already higher prices over the top for me. True, I don't want my blueberries to be cooked before they get to me in the hot summer months. But I don't want to pay for shipping that seems to approach what the gasoline would cost me to drive to the Great Lakes region to pick them myself. Ordering itself is a bit of a leap of faith; if I balk at store prices for fresh Ranier or Bing cherries, do I really want to double that? It's not something I can do every week or even every month. But I tried it, had some success, and what I knew I would not consume right away I shared with family and friends and froze the rest. The ones I have tried so far and enjoyed are:
The Orange Shop
Lemon Ladies Orchard
Pittman and Davis
The Blueberry Store
and I have bookmarked a few pages which look promising but for which I missed the growing season.
So after the oranges and lemons and blueberries and cherries came in their big boxes and my tummy was happy I decided to try the organic produce delivery in the sidebar ads I kept seeing on Facebook and my ISP homepage. Although supposedly geared towards my locale and my preferences, some of these ads didn't deliver within a hundred miles of my locale. So I did an internet search and discovered fresh produce can be delivered to your door if you live in New York, California, London or Australia. Awesome. But what about Colorado where I live? I did find two which deliver to the Denver metro area, Door to Door Organics and Mile High Organics. Both work essentially the same way: you create an account, select the size box of veggies and fruit you wish delivered, and whether you want it delivered once a week or every other week. You can even specify local in-season produce. And you can add fresh milk and other dairy, meat, bread, and other organic groceries. With Door to Door Organics, you supply an ice chest and they deliver to that with ice packs as needed; with Mile High Organics, they supply the chest and the ice packs. Reuse and recycling of all content is encouraged on both sites by the customer putting the thawed ice packs and empty produce bags and glass milk bottles, etc, back in the chest the morning of your next delivery. Costs vary especially depending on what size produce "box" you want plus whatever extras you've ordered, but they start at $25 and go from there. Does getting your produce delivered cost more than a run to Walmart or your regular grocery store? Certainly. It even costs more than going to natural grocers like Whole Foods or Sprouts or Vitamin Cottage, although the price difference is less there. For me, it is worth it, since I generally go grocery shopping when i am hungry so I overbuy, and this way I can better plan. I haven't yet worked out the intricaies; it is difficult to prepare meals for one. But in the month since signing up for both services, alternating weeks, I have wasted less food than before, so I'm not convinced I'm truly spending more.
Are these services for everybody? No, probably not. You have to weigh what you know you will use with the upfront cost versus the long term cost and consider your taste buds as well. For me, if I am enjoying what I eat, I am going to eat it, and if not, I won't. So the extra cost is worth it to me. And weighing the cost of the organic foods against what I might spend in the vending machines because I (a) forgot to grab something out of the fridge when I left for work or (b) grabbed for it but it crawled away under its own power because it had gone bad -- for the time being, it's worth the money and the time saved not going to the grocery store.
Honorable mentions go to Abe's Market and iHerb.com, two online grocery stores for canned and boxed groceries. I haven't bought from them yet, and some of the groceries only come in bulk, but the prices seem very comparable to like foods at natural foods grocery stores.
I decided this year if I could spend a little more money to buy a little higher quality cheeses, chocolates and root beers, I could certainly spend more on my produce. I had the previous year gotten oranges delivered straight from the Florida groves and i did it again this year, followed by some Meyer lemons - who knew lemons could actually be almost sweet? - and this summer I had blueberries and cherries delivered. Friends and family got a false impression on the strength of my pocketbook and probably questioned my sanity for the money I was spending. but here's the thing: the food didn't go to waste, and here's the reason why: it was good. Not simply "good" as in "tasty" - it was that - but good as in fresh, ripe. I know, not all store-bought produce is bad. Every now and then I'll get a really good tomato or peach. But the others I bought the same day from the same bin in the same store are not. It's hard to get enthused about eating healthy when the supposedly healthy food doesn't taste good and spoils in your refrigerator.
And there is no shortage of groves willing to ship directly to you. Depending upon the season and how close you are to the groves, you might have to pay a premium for shipping. Some groves had great prices but their shipping policies put the already higher prices over the top for me. True, I don't want my blueberries to be cooked before they get to me in the hot summer months. But I don't want to pay for shipping that seems to approach what the gasoline would cost me to drive to the Great Lakes region to pick them myself. Ordering itself is a bit of a leap of faith; if I balk at store prices for fresh Ranier or Bing cherries, do I really want to double that? It's not something I can do every week or even every month. But I tried it, had some success, and what I knew I would not consume right away I shared with family and friends and froze the rest. The ones I have tried so far and enjoyed are:
The Orange Shop
Lemon Ladies Orchard
Pittman and Davis
The Blueberry Store
and I have bookmarked a few pages which look promising but for which I missed the growing season.
So after the oranges and lemons and blueberries and cherries came in their big boxes and my tummy was happy I decided to try the organic produce delivery in the sidebar ads I kept seeing on Facebook and my ISP homepage. Although supposedly geared towards my locale and my preferences, some of these ads didn't deliver within a hundred miles of my locale. So I did an internet search and discovered fresh produce can be delivered to your door if you live in New York, California, London or Australia. Awesome. But what about Colorado where I live? I did find two which deliver to the Denver metro area, Door to Door Organics and Mile High Organics. Both work essentially the same way: you create an account, select the size box of veggies and fruit you wish delivered, and whether you want it delivered once a week or every other week. You can even specify local in-season produce. And you can add fresh milk and other dairy, meat, bread, and other organic groceries. With Door to Door Organics, you supply an ice chest and they deliver to that with ice packs as needed; with Mile High Organics, they supply the chest and the ice packs. Reuse and recycling of all content is encouraged on both sites by the customer putting the thawed ice packs and empty produce bags and glass milk bottles, etc, back in the chest the morning of your next delivery. Costs vary especially depending on what size produce "box" you want plus whatever extras you've ordered, but they start at $25 and go from there. Does getting your produce delivered cost more than a run to Walmart or your regular grocery store? Certainly. It even costs more than going to natural grocers like Whole Foods or Sprouts or Vitamin Cottage, although the price difference is less there. For me, it is worth it, since I generally go grocery shopping when i am hungry so I overbuy, and this way I can better plan. I haven't yet worked out the intricaies; it is difficult to prepare meals for one. But in the month since signing up for both services, alternating weeks, I have wasted less food than before, so I'm not convinced I'm truly spending more.
Are these services for everybody? No, probably not. You have to weigh what you know you will use with the upfront cost versus the long term cost and consider your taste buds as well. For me, if I am enjoying what I eat, I am going to eat it, and if not, I won't. So the extra cost is worth it to me. And weighing the cost of the organic foods against what I might spend in the vending machines because I (a) forgot to grab something out of the fridge when I left for work or (b) grabbed for it but it crawled away under its own power because it had gone bad -- for the time being, it's worth the money and the time saved not going to the grocery store.
Honorable mentions go to Abe's Market and iHerb.com, two online grocery stores for canned and boxed groceries. I haven't bought from them yet, and some of the groceries only come in bulk, but the prices seem very comparable to like foods at natural foods grocery stores.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Sporks!
Things you might not have known about sporks....
* Patents for spork-like instruments date back to 1874. And here, when I was a kid, I thought Kentucky Fried Chicken invented them!
* The word "spork" appeared in the 1909 supplement to the Century Dictionary. I need to get a copy of that supplement. You know, for the historical significance.
* You can buy them made of titanium. I have one in my spork collection:
* Patents for spork-like instruments date back to 1874. And here, when I was a kid, I thought Kentucky Fried Chicken invented them!
* The word "spork" appeared in the 1909 supplement to the Century Dictionary. I need to get a copy of that supplement. You know, for the historical significance.
* You can buy them made of titanium. I have one in my spork collection:
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
withdrawal.....
Somehow, I don't know how, I arrived at my bus stop this morning with my water bottle, my umbrella, and.... no book. I had chosen a hardcover copy of Agatha Christie's "The Murder At the Vicarage" to take with me today instead of my ereader, in which I am currently reading "Ben Hur", "Les Miserables", "Change Your Brain, Change Your Life", a sampler of recent teen novels, and the scriptures. I set the book, umbrella and water down in order to turn off the air conditioner before I left. Somehow I missed picking the book back up. Sleep deprivation, perhaps. Whatever the reason, by the time I realized it, I didn't have time to run back home and grab the book. For the first time ever I wish I had a smart phone, because then I could have books on it. But no, I have a phone of ordinary intelligence.
The bus came. I read all the signs on the bus. I hoped for the opportunity to interact with another passenger, ask what they were reading. There was a strange dearth of readers today. The regular riders who like me generally have a book or ereader in their hands either weren't on the bus today or had possibly left home themselves tomeless, because they weren't reading and they weren't napping.
Somehow I survived. I think I might've broken out into a cold sweat at one point, but I survived, by rereading all the signs on the bus and past text messages and current text messages in response to the one I sent out lamenting my lack of a book. Helpful messages like "You should get more rest" and Oh man you are going to have a long morning" and "I hate it when that happens" and "This is serious!" and "How could you forget a book?"
When I forget my phone, I shrug and figure I'll make my phone calls when I get back home. When I forget my hat, my pate gets warm in the summer and my ears get cold in the winter. When I forget my umbrella, chances are good I will get wet (not a bad thing, as remembering it will almost guarantee it won't rain and forgetting it will almost guarantee we will get some moisture.) When I forget my water bottle, I can generally stop and buy another halfway to work in-between buses.
When I forget my book....
Well, I survived. Wish me luck and a good memory tomorrow...
The bus came. I read all the signs on the bus. I hoped for the opportunity to interact with another passenger, ask what they were reading. There was a strange dearth of readers today. The regular riders who like me generally have a book or ereader in their hands either weren't on the bus today or had possibly left home themselves tomeless, because they weren't reading and they weren't napping.
Somehow I survived. I think I might've broken out into a cold sweat at one point, but I survived, by rereading all the signs on the bus and past text messages and current text messages in response to the one I sent out lamenting my lack of a book. Helpful messages like "You should get more rest" and Oh man you are going to have a long morning" and "I hate it when that happens" and "This is serious!" and "How could you forget a book?"
When I forget my phone, I shrug and figure I'll make my phone calls when I get back home. When I forget my hat, my pate gets warm in the summer and my ears get cold in the winter. When I forget my umbrella, chances are good I will get wet (not a bad thing, as remembering it will almost guarantee it won't rain and forgetting it will almost guarantee we will get some moisture.) When I forget my water bottle, I can generally stop and buy another halfway to work in-between buses.
When I forget my book....
Well, I survived. Wish me luck and a good memory tomorrow...
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