My Day So Far….

So, after I got up this morning, and had breakfast, and all that, I ran a couple errands.

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I took my socks to the bank where, naturally, I got on the wrong drive-up lane . . . but we kept each other entertained.

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We went to the car wash, because the amount of road salt on my car was just ridiculous. I picked the one that you can ride through (I thought the socks would like that) but that may have been a tactical error. It cost just about the same as the ones where you get OUT of the car, and didn’t include an internal cleaning . . . and the inside of my windows could really use that. It was even further out of my way, but . . . at least I didn’t have to get out of the car. It’s cold out there.

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I stopped at the grocery store. I bought stuff for some soup. I’m making my Weisskohl Eintopf soup tonight–it’s a German cabbage soup recipe with bits of bacon and little meatballs . . . really yummy, but I almost never get to make it. (The recipe is in the Extendted post, if you want it.) And on Saturday, when Mom gets home, the plan is to have a pot of Carole’s Roast Beef Soup ready and waiting. Mom thought it sounded really good, so I’m looking forward to trying it.

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Then I came home and had lunch. A BLT sandwich–another rarity in our household. See, Mom’s deathly allergic to all kinds of pork products, including bacon. So it’s a rare, rare thing for us to have it in the house. (The bacon is the main reason I can’t make Weisskohl Eintopf more often–that, and the fact that my father never, ever, eats soup.) But since Mom’s not here and there’s plenty of time for me to scour everything that could possibly have come into contact with the bacon . . . well, it would just be wrong of me not to take advantage, right? The tomatoes were darn good for this time of year, too….

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And now? We’re just waiting for Liz to get here…. She called from just outside Philadelphia about half an hour ago, so . . . another hour, tops, unless she hits really bad traffic (knock on wood).

[Read more →]

The Charm

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Third time’s the charm, so they say, so . . . here’s my third try at plying the same bobbin’s worth of yarn.

Much better to look at, for sure, but I think I’m going to let it sit on its bobbin for a little while before winding it off and giving it a bath to set its twist.

Yes, so I’m a little cowardly….

Today was a rough day for Chappy. See, yesterday my Dad left for his annual golf trip to Florida. Okay, well, Chappy’s not thrilled when any family members pack up a suitcase and leave, but his Grandpa does take trips from time to time, so . . . okay. He was dealing with that.

But then,this morning, my Mom left. She and one of the other wives of the golf-buddies decided that they would take a trip, too, and so they left this morning for Martha’s Vineyard. (Yes, in February; yes, it’ll be cold; but it’s Martha’s Vineyard, so Mom’s happy.) I brought her suitcase down last night, and they left a little after 7:00 this morning, and well, after that, Chappy didn’t leave my side. He followed me very closely as I was getting ready for work . . . I think he was worried that I was going to disappear next.

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All of which means that he’s really quite tired. All this worrying about disappearing family members can wear a boy out, you know? Dogs like to keep their packs in one place, you know?

On the plus side, he’ll be much happier tomorrow because I took the next two days off from work. I have to run out to the grocery store in the morning, but otherwise will be home pretty much all day. AND there’s some extra fun later in the day. We’re having a guest for the weekend! I predict lots of fun, lots of laughs . . . and, oh yeah, I’m sure some spinning and knitting will be in there as well. It’s just a shame that absent friends won’t be able to join us.

Twisted

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Okay–see? The yarn on the right is the skein I made a few weeks ago and is happy and beautiful and balanced and just lovely.

The yarn on the left is the yarn I just finished. That was over-twisted and then I ran it through the wheel a second time, and now it’s under-twisted . . .

Even though it had a nice, relaxing, warm bath, and hung to dry, and is a lot MORE balanced than it was, but still . . . I’m not happy with it. It just doesn’t look RIGHT.

Right?

Hey–go over and wish Carole a happy blog-anniversary, huh?

No Good Title is Coming to Me….

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Well, I got some knitting done today. At least an inch added to my socks. Which, you know, is a good thing . . .

Except that I did all of that while at the dentist. Fun, fun! I was there for two hours, but at least half an hour of that was me just sitting there, knitting, while he took care of another patient, since my tooth-repair was taking longer than he expected.

Like I said, fun, fun.

My socks look great, though. Basic socks in STR “Harlotty.” I love the colors, love the feel of the yarn, and really can’t wait until they’re done. Except, um, I’d rather not continue adding to them like I did today, you know? My dentist and his staff are wonderful people and I like them quite a bit, but . . . not at their office (grin).

Let’s see, so what else? I forgot to tell you yesterday, that I baked a cake. A pound cake, which is one of my favorites, even if no-one else in the family really likes it. So, whenever I DO make one, I make a berry sauce to go with it–to make it palatable for the others.

Well, yesterday, I got distracted. I put the frozen berries in a pot on the stove, walked away, and . . . kind of forgot to come back until Mom said, “Do I smell raspberries?” Um . . . oops! I hurried downstairs and took a look . . . Really, I should have grabbed my camera, but it was a little more important to reach for the paper towels. The berries–luckily I hadn’t added sugar yet–had not only overflowed, but they’d managed to spit all over the stove. There was berry-colored juice on the burner, on the backsplash, on the garbage pail next to the stove. And, naturally, when I started to wipe it off, it spilled down the front of the stove to the floor. And, you know, berries stain, right? Naturally, at that very precise moment, Mom walked in. You know, how parents do? When you’ve made a mess and just before you have a chance to clean up, when it’s at its very messiest?

I did get it all cleaned up, nothing was irreparably stained, and luckily the sauce wasn’t ruined, but . . . such a mess! And, well, you can see why I didn’t dawdle to snap pictures. Mom commented that it looked like the stove was bleeding, poor thing . . .

Oh, and yes, the yarn my half-done socks are sitting on IS the peach-colored yarn that was in yesterday’s picture. So pretty, and softer than I expected it to be.

Yarny Sunday

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It seems like forever since I showed any knitting or spinning progress, but I wouldn’t want you to think I’ve been slacking.

Here (along with a pair of polka-dot socks) are three skeins of yarn that I’ve just finished spinning.

The two peachy-colored ones are from the roving I was given as a RAOK in December. The gray is the really twisty yarn I mentioned the other day. I ran it through the wheel a second time, and it’s still off-balance. I decided that I’d soak it and let it dry first, though, before worrying any more about it. I THINK it’s under-plied, but still am not sure. I’ve got it doubled-over the towel-bar and have one of Chappy’s old collars clipped over the bottom, providing just a modicum of weight . . . we’ll see how it looks when it dries.

I did not participate in International Pajama Day today. First, because I pretty much NEVER hang out in my PJs. I get dressed as soon as I’m out of bed in the morning; the only time I wear my pajamas around the house is after my shower at night. And also, because my friend Cindy came over today. She took advantage of my ball winder and swift to wind lots and lots of merino/mohair that she brought back from her trip to New Zealand last year. We also had a lesson in knitting two socks at the same time. AND I gave her cake and a present for her birthday last week.

Otherwise, no, I am not watching the Super Bowl tonight (not even the commercials), but I have watched a ridiculous amount of the Animal Planet’s Puppy Bowl–all those puppies romping around, with those cute little faces, and that fluffy, fuzzy fur . . . who can resist? It’s surprisingly captivating . . . and, don’t forget, they have a kitten half-time show . . .

One last thing–do go and check out Debby’s page for the Get Your Guts In Gear drive–a good cause for her husband AND her cat, since both of them suffer from Chrohn’s Disease and Irritable Bowel Syndrome. A healthy digestive system is priceless, people, so please, head over and support Chris’s 210 mile in 3 days bike ride.

Silly Saturday

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I finished reading Team of Rivals last night. This book was excellent. And huge. 740 pages of “book” and another 170 or so of notes, bibliography, index, and so on. But, really, such a good story. Highly recommended.

Now, is it wrong of me to be so proud of the fact that I read 740 pages of this over the course of a couple of weeks and managed to completely avoid cracking the binding? No crease in the spine at all.

Because, really, it’s one of my pet peeves–people who open a book and immediately crack it wide open. Obviously, wear and tear is going to happen, and paperbacks are more fragile than hardcovers, and yes, some creases, lines, and breaks in the spine are inevitable–especially on thicker, wider books–but you have to at least TRY to treat them kindly. Give the backs some support while you’re reading them, just like you would for an infant. It’s just the decent thing to do. I’m proud of the fact that the books in my library are in as good shape as is possible.

Anyway. So, today. We woke up this morning to about a 1/2″ of crusty snow–which is the most snow we’ve had all season. Mom and I were planning on going out for coffee and errands when . . . just as I put my pot of oatmeal on the stove to come to a boil . . . we had a funky kind of brown-out. The stove stopped working. And the kitchen lights–which are on a separate circuit breaker–but the coffee maker, refrigerator, and television had power. My parents’ room, lost power, as did the plug Dad’s computer was attached to–but not the one his phone was plugged into. My bedroom and the bathrooms were fine (for a change), but the guest room was out. . . . you get the idea. We called our next-door neighbors, and they were having the same problem–spotty power.

Well, the power came back just as I was about to leave, but Mom wasn’t willing to leave the house before the power company actually CAME–so I went on my own. I went to the pet store to buy some aquarium tubing to try on my Journey Wheel. Bought a new pillow for my bed at Linens & Things. By which time I was really hungry, since I hadn’t been able to cook my oatmeal, and sorry, Cheerios just doesn’t cut it. So I went over to Borders, had a snack, and then bought some new books (which should not be a surprise.). And a new Harry Connick Jr cd called “Oh, my NOLA,” filled with classic New Orleans jazz. I haven’t heard the whole thing yet, but the tracks I have, I love. (Note that if you buy this at Borders, there’s an extra track–just sayin’.)

Anyway, when I came home, I tried the aquarium tubing on my Journey wheel, but . . . no good. Too thick to fit in the grooves. Which is unfortunate, because, after I’d wound off the bobbin of (badly-plied) yarn I had on the wheel and folded it shut, the existing drive band . . . which I’ve mentioned has been more and more difficult to get to work? Clearly it was stretching and weakening, because . . . it snapped. Oops! These things happen, right? So I went in the kitchen and pulled out some twine and measured out a new one, but . . . it works fine, but I’m having trouble getting it tied tightly enough. Any suggestions?

Tonight, we three went out for dinner for Mom’s birthday–a little early, since her b-day is Valentine’s day, but since she and Dad won’t be available next weekend, we went tonight. We went to my dad’s golf club, which is always nice. In fact, we went there for my birthday in November–and when we got there at 6:00, we were the only people in the dining room, and it never really DID fill up, what with it being post-golf-season and all. So you’d expect pretty much the same thing this time, right? Wrong! They were having a birthday party for one of the members whose 94 years old (and, really, wow, he looks fabulous for his age–I would have guessed mid-seventies).

But–here’s the funny part–they were having the cocktail hour for the party IN the dining room. So, while we were sitting there at our table, eating our salads and all, the party guests were mingling, eating appetizers the wait-staff was carrying around, RIGHT next to our table. At one point, they were practically surrounding our table–which was kind of . . . weird. A few of the people knew my Dad and stopped to say hello, but mostly, they were milling around, talking amongst themselves, and . . . there we were, like a little island in the middle of the party. It felt vaguely like we’d crashed the party, until they all finally sat down to their own dinner. But it was funny, too–we wondered how many of them were looking at us wondering, “Who ARE those people? Do we know them? How come they got their dinners already? I’m starving…” It made for an interesting night, anyway. And I DID get a chance to wear my Fabulous Shoes.

Oh, and I did take Chappy into the backyard to play in the “snow” this afternoon. Which was also silly. Because, see, he LOVES chasing snowballs. Except, there wasn’t enough snow to make any. There wasn’t even 1/4″ at that point. But, he just STOOD there, at the bottom of the stairs, staring at me. Waiting for me to throw snowballs for him to chase. So . . . I pretended. I patted together invisible snowballs between my hands, and reached my arm back and threw . . . and he went bounding off, chasing them. See, he doesn’t really care where the snowballs go–except for when I’m tossing them for him to catch, he just likes the excuse to RUN. But meantime, he was chasing imaginary snowballs–and thrilled about it.

Silly dog.

Oh, and before I forget–Do you have a couple minutes to help a college student with a knitting survey? (Seen at Major Knitter‘s)

Sky

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Well, at least we got a glimpse of the sun on Friday….

Poetry Two

I had so much fun posting that earlier poem for Blogger’s (Silent) Poetry Reading, I decided to do another: (Heck, I enjoyed this last year, too.)

INTRODUCTION TO POETRY
by Billy Collins

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to water-ski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

(Yep, folks–how many of you had English teachers more or less kill the beauty of poetry for you by forcing you to take them apart, syllable by syllable. Show of hands? Anyone?)

Anyway. Luckily I had this poetry thing to fall back on, because really, I have almost nothing to talk about tonight.

Okay, really, nothing to talk about.

CROSSING
by Deborah Tall

“Islands are great places,” he’d say,
“Till you want to get off.”
And he should know, driving a wedge of a boat
in and out of that channel, decades.

But who knew better
than the horses who were
lowered into the hold
on a pulley strung from the mast,
the horses who always gave up
their thrashing when,
hooves finally lifted free of the pier,
they swung full-bodied
in salt air, swallowing sure catastrophe.
They never walked the same on mainland.

Brain Candy

Freely combining both Eye-Candy Friday with the Second Annual Blogger’s Silent Poetry Reading, I present the following:

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School Prayer
by Diane Ackerman

In the name of the daybreak
and the eyelids of morning
and the wayfaring moon
and the night when it departs,

I swear I will not dishonor
my soul with hatred,
but offer myself humbly
as a guardian of nature,
as a healer of misery,
as a messenger of wonder,
as an architect of peace.

In the name of the sun and its mirrors
and the day that embraces it
and the cloud veils drawn over it
and the uttermost night
and the male and the female
and the plants bursting with seed
and the crowning seasons
of the firefly and the apple,

I will honor all life
–wherever and in whatever form
it may dwell–on Earth my home
and in the mansions of the stars.

Marking Time

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I got this little handmade box in the mail today….

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Such a surprise. A cute little set of stitch-markers from Laura. When I cleaned out the tea-cabinete a couple weeks ago and said there were bunches of tea I was getting rid of, she said that one of them (the Peet’s Holiday tea) was one of her favorites. So, I stuck it (and all the others) in a box and sent them to her–they were perfectly good teas, just not my, er, cup of tea, so why should they go in the garbage, right?

Well, she liked them so much, she bought me these adorable little stitch-markers from Miss Purl . . . note the teapot dangling from one of them. What’s not to love, huh?

Speaking of Laura, she’s started a Read-Along which won’t kick in until June. Because, if you haven’t heard, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is coming out JULY 21ST!! Woo-hoo!! I can’t wait. Only 169 days to go….

The idea behind the read-along is to read each of the already-existing six books in the six weeks before publication date. So, by my calculations, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s/Sorcerer’s Stone will be started on Saturday, June 9th, followed by Chamber of Secrets on June 16th, and so on. I had mentioned that this is what I’ve done for the last two books, and she thought it was such a great idea, she’s doing a whole, organized thing. Please do join–it should be fun.

Speaking of reading, I’m working my way through Doris Kearns Goodwin’s excellent Team of Rivals, about “the political genius of Abraham Lincoln.” As I passed by page 600, I saw this: “Fred Seward records a pleasant evening that January when Lincoln walked over to Seward’s with John Hay to share a humorous language guidebook, English as She is Spoke. ‘As John Hay read aloud its queer inverted sentences, Lincoln and Seward laughed heartily, their minds finding a brief but welcom relief from care’.” How FUNNY is it that Lincoln would have read this ridiculous, obscure, little book that I just happen to have also read? (I finished it on 12/12/04–book journals really are handy.)

Amazon‘s description? Here:
In 1855, when Jose da Fonseca and Pedro Carolino wrote an English phrasebook for Portuguese students, they faced just one problem: they didn’t know any English. Even worse, they didn’t own an English-to-Portuguese dictionary. What they did have, though, was a Portuguese-to-French dictionary, and a French-to-English dictionary. The linguistic train wreck that ensued is a classic of unintentional humor, now revived in the first newly selected edition in a century. Armed with Fonseca and Carolino’s guide, a Portuguese traveler can insult a barber (“What news tell me? All hairs dresser are newsmonger”), complain about the orchestra (“It is a noise which to cleve the head”), go hunting (“let aim it! let make fire him”), and consult a handy selection of truly mystifying “Idiotisms and Proverbs.”

Really, though, Team of Rivals is amazingly good, even it if is 900+ pages (including the indexes, notes, and such). And–a trivial little side-note–one of my co-workers is related to Seward. Lincoln’s Secretary of State and my co-worker’s great-something grandfather were cousins. It’s not exactly a direct line, or anything, but still kind of interesting–the sad part is that he would find this book interesting, too, but with an almost-4-year old and a set of almost-2-year old twins, it would take him about 10 years to read it….

Oh, and yes, I brushed Chappy’s teeth tonight. He’s remembered how much he really liked that toothpaste, though he’s still not crazy about ME deciding where the brush should go . . . one of these nights, I’ll try to get my Able Assistant (aka Mom) to take a picture of Chappy’s pearly whites . . .

Oh. And my broken one is going to the dentist on Monday. I’m pretty sure this is the crown that he tried to patch last June . . . We knew it was just a temporary fix, but I was hoping it would last a little longer. If it IS the same tooth, it’s actually a crown already . . . I just wish I could remember if it was one that had already had a root canal . . .  I THINK that’s a yes, which is good . . . in fact, if I’m remembering correctly, that’s one of the reasons he was willing to try patching it at the time, but I could be wrong.

Oh, well.


Booking Through Thursday

What are your reading habits? Do you tend to read at specific times
during the day, or does it vary from day to day, hour to hour, minute
to minute?

I think it should be reasonably clear by now that I read fairly often. All right, a lot. I pretty much always have a book with me, I usually have a pile of in-process books by my bed. I read during breakfast, during lunch. While brushing my teeth. In the bathroom. In bed before going to sleep. While watching television. Sitting on the couch with Chappy. . .

Okay, it might be easier to tell you when I’m NOT reading.

Pretty much if I’m not in a social situation, at work, actively doing something with my hands (i.e., cooking, washing, knitting–but especially something wet). I don’t read when I’m out on a walk with Chappy, or when I’m driving . . . rarely ever when I’m out of the house, actually, although I used to constantly keep a book in my purse. So . . . we’re talking in the leisure time that’s not work, not doing chores, not sleeping, knitting, or spinning. But mostly every, other, possible minute. I have absolutely no trouble picking up a book for 30 seconds, or just a couple minutes–while waiting for the kettle to boil, or waiting for a webpage to load. Reading time is precious!

Books Read in January

Here’s my reading list from January.

1. BEAUTY by Robin McKinley (247 p.) At this point, a classic YA book, a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, and one of my favorite versions. Beautifully, gently written. The author’s first book, too . . . just, charming.

2. READING LIKE A WRITER by Francine Prose (268 p.) Excellent book. I loved this analysis of the way literary masters accomplish so much in their writing while ignoring all the “rules” we learned in school. At least, some of the time. Great chunks of quotes, a pleasant voice from the author, who sounds so pleased to share this with us, and just altogether a good read. When’s the last time someone told you they loved a book of literary analysis? And, really, the author’s name is just perfect.

3. GOOD NIGHT, MR. HOLMES by Carole Nelson Douglas (402 p) Remember Irene Adler from the Sherlock Holmes story, “A Scandal in Bohemia?” The only woman ever to outwit him? Now imagine her as a detective in her own right, with a parson’s daughter acting as her “Watson.” I’ve always thought this was a wonderful look at that story from Irene’s point of view . . . well, I love stories that look at something familiar from a new angle, so….

4. IRENE AT LARGE by Carole Nelson Douglas (379 p.) (Recently re-published under the title “Soul of Steel”) The third book of the series, and the one which introduces Quentin Stanhope as a love interest, of sorts, for Penelope Huxleigh, Irene’s best friend. He literally falls at her feet–in a faint–when he sees her outside of Notre Dame, and turns out to be searching for a Dr. Watson who helped tend his wounds in a battle in Afghanistan years ago….

5. IRENE’S LAST WALTZ by Carole Nelson Douglas (479 p.) (Recently re-published under the title “Another Scandal in Bohemia”–admittedly a better title, but I really hate when publishers do this and confuse people who’ve already bought the books….) Fourth book in the series, this time taking Irene (and company) back to Bohemia, despite the risk of being recognized by the King who so desperately sought her in the first book. It was after this book that the author took a loooong break from Irene, and frankly, I haven’t enjoyed any of the more recent ones as much as these first four.

6. DEATH IN THE GARDEN by Elizabeth Ironside (274 p.) A unique and well-done mystery which tells two stories: that of a post-WWI birthday party at an English house party which ends in the death of the host . . . and then, skipping ahead to the present day, the story of the great-niece who becomes entranced in solving the years’ old mystery. It has a feel of Dorothy Sayer to it (which even the blurbs inside the front cover mention), and I enjoyed it a lot.

7. LOVING by Henry Green (204 p.) I picked this up–having never heard of Henry Green before–because the book above, “Reading Like a Writer” gave a lengthy quote from this book and piqued my interest. There’s an intro from John Updike, too, saying that he basically learned how to write from Henry Green. Well, this was a unique book–great story about the staff of an Irish manor house during WWII. Many of the usual, fiction devices were ignored–like distinct scene changes–so it’s not a book that can be skimmed. I’m not sure how I felt about this style, but enjoyed the book. The volume I got has two other short novels in it, and I’m saving those for later, after I’ve gotten my brain wrapped around this one….

8. VENETIA by Georgette Heyer (354 p.) I’ve heard so much about Georgette Heyer over the years, as the person who defined Regency-style romances. Now, I don’t read “romances” as a rule, but I’ve seen her referred to so many times over the years, I got curious . . . my opinion? Decent, if mostly predictable story, well-enough written. The heroine was just too, too perfect–always patient, always charming, always in a good mood–not to mention beautiful, innocent, and sought-after. But still, diverting and not a horrible way to spend the day (grin).

9. SOLSTICE WOOD by Patricia McKillip (278 p.) Picture the world of Faerie meeting the modern world. Sylvia is called home on the death of her Grandfather . . . only to find that her Grandmother has been keeping secrets all these years . . . as a rule, I don’t really go for Faerie-kind of books. The whole, hidden world of the “Other” who steal babies and snatch lovers from the mortal world usually leaves me pretty cold. Still, I do enjoy Patricia McKillip, so thought I’d give it a try. It’s as well-written as I expect from her, and I enjoyed the story, even if the main idea still makes me uncomfortable. (grin)

10. MIRACLE AT ST. ANNA by James McBride (306 p.) A story of negro soldiers and a lost Italian boy in WWII. Good, if heartbreaking story.

11. ACROSS THE NIGHTINGALE FLOOR by Lian Hearn (305 p.) Kind of a medieval Japan fantasy trilogy. (Well, now there’s actually a
fourth book which won’t be out in paperback until June, but since it
takes place 15 years after the action of the original trilogy, the wait
won’t be unbearable.) Anyway, the trilogy begins when Takeo is saved by
an anonymous warrior when his village is destroyed–a Lord who adopts
him and trains him in the ways of a warrior, but also in the ways of
the secret Tribe of assassins, of which Takeo’s father was one. It’s a
well-written, enjoyable series with an interesting premise and a nice
flow of action–whether that be in the form of fights or of events that
move the story along. Either way, it doesn’t drag and is a page-turner
in its own right.

12. BALANCE OF TRADE by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller (456 p.) A sci-fi coming-of-age story–Jethri Gobelyn signs on as an apprentice trader to a Liaden master of trade, but has a LOT of learning to do . . . I love all of these authors’ Liaden series, and this one is highly enjoyable. It takes place years (centuries? decades?) before the action of their main Korval books, but I hope that won’t stop them from writing another with these characters–I want to know what happens next.

13. I AM THE MESSENGER by Markus Zusak (357 p.) It’s by the same author as The Book Thief,
and I have to tell you, I liked it SO much more. I am, however, aware
that I’m in the minority in not liking the Book Thief, though. But the
Messenger book? It starts when 19-year old cab-driver Ed Kennedy helps
catch a bank robber. A few days later, he gets an Ace of Diamonds in
the mail, with three addresses . . . and when he visits them, realizes
that the people need help. But who is sending the cards? Why him?
Despite the bad language (more than I thought was necessary, but not
enough to be TRULY offensive, though it usually turns me off), the
story was engaging and intriguing, and it kept me turning pages to find
out where the cards were coming from.

14. GRASS FOR HIS PILLOW by Lian Hearn (315 p.) The second book in this Asian-inspired fantasy trilogy. Takeo has agreed to be trained by the Tribe of assassins, but is torn in his loyalty–he wants to avenge his foster-father, AND he wants to be with Kaede, the love of his life….

15. BRILLIANCE OF THE MOON by Lian Hearn (344 p.) Third book of the Otori trilogy, and, honestly, my least favorite of the bunch, but still . . . it was nice to see Takeo focus on his heritage at last.

16. GIRL IN THE TANGERINE SCARF by Mohja Kahf (446 p.) I saw this recommended on some blog or other (I forget which) but am glad I did, because it was excellent–a look at a modern, Muslim girl growing up in Indiana in the 1970s . . . a look into that culture which I’ve never had before, and really very good indeed.

17. PASSAGE by Connie Willis (780 p.) What if near-death-experiences could be simulated? And what if two researchers were trying to determine the scientific cause of NDEs? And what if, through lack of other volunteers, one of the researchers undertook the experiment herself? No, this isn’t “Flatliners.” It’s Connie Willis, who writes so well, and takes such a great approach to difficult subjects. I’ve had this on my shelf for a couple years now and hadn’t summoned up the courage to read it. (Not because I was afraid of the subject matter, or thought the book would be less-than-good because, well, it’s Connie Willis, but because some of her stories have unfortunate tendencies to tragic endings, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to face that. I won’t tell you whether or not this one had such an ending, but it WAS as good as I expected it to be.

18. WHITE HART by Nancy Springer (222 p.) This has been in my library since the early 1980s, but I haven’t read it in years. First, technically, in a trilogy, although it has a completely different feel than the other two. A fantasy book, taking place on “the Isle,” where suddenly, in the midst of war and strife, Bevan appears, the son of a long-departed god, struggling to find his place in an unfamiliar world. He learns to love Ellid and her cousin Cuin, but is torn between his need to help the land and his longing for whence he came. The whole book has the feel of a legend, a myth–something from the mists of time. I LOVED this book in high school.

19. HOW TO CHEAT AT CLEANING by Jeff Bredenberg (229 p.) Exactly what it sounds like–short cuts and tips to “cheat” at house-cleaning. Some good ones in here, even if it doesn’t tell you to really get a floor CLEAN…. (my cleaning Achilles heel).

20. LABYRINTHS by Jorge Luis Borges (249 p.) This book of short stories was a Christma gift and, well, the writing is very good (even allowing for it being a translation), but these are some pretty weird stories…. Classics, though!

21. HISTORY OF HAND-KNITTING by Richard Rutt (223 p.) Incredibly thorough, extremely well-researched, and with some spots of real interest, but . . . dry as dust. Kind of boring to read, this is going to be more of a reference book for me…

22. MY HOUSE IS KILLING ME by Jonathan M. Samet (310 p.) One of the scariest books I’ve ever read, all about the unseen little, microscopic germs, bugs, mites, particles, molds, mildews, and substances that can make you sick without your even knowing about them. Of course, it also tells you what to DO about them, which is a good thing, but really . . . it almost sounds like it’s easier to just knock the house down and start over . . . Excellent resource for allergy/asthma sufferers, but really . . . scary!