Bill Bryson’s African Diary

gr4c5Leave a comment

African DiaryBryson, Bill. Bill Bryson’s African Diary. New York, Broadway Books, 2002.

I added this to the December list when I read a review describing it as “short.” It’s much shorter than I thought – only 49 pages of “diary” and a few more pages of statistical information. So short that I was able to read it over a lunch break. I’m glad it was a quick read because I couldn’t put it down. I’m a sucker for charitable tactics, especially unique ones, and this book definitely qualifies. CARE International (a non-profit organization dedicated to fighting global poverty) funded Bill Bryson’s trip to Nairobi, Africa with the request that he write about his eight day adventure. Bryson is known for his travel literature, his humor, and his expressive way of describing life around him. He would certainly be able to describe the poverty, the landscape, and best of all, the people of Africa. Many reviewers called this book a charity puff-piece, a lengthy advertisement for the work of CARE, and were bitter about the $12 price tag. What they missed out on was the stunning photography, the wry humor and the painless way to do good (all royalties and profit from the sale of the book went to CARE International).
Speaking of humor, here are a few of my favorite lines: “…tireless commitment to mediocrity” (p 2), “you had to be really unlucky to be shot and stabbed” (p 4), “Kenyan Railways has something of a tradition of killing its passengers” (p 21) and, “Watamu was tranquil to the point of being comatose” (25). There are other funny moments: “flying toilets,” and flying for real, to name two.

For more information on CARE, International go here.

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust and the chapter “Bill Bryson: Too Good to Miss” (p 36). This being my first introduction to Bryson I am looking forward to more.

December Is

gr4c5Leave a comment

                                                                                                                                                                                                             Christmas
                                                                

Here are the parameters for the December reading list (and what is at the top of the reading list):
December is…

  • Bill Bryson’s birth month (Bill Bryson’s African Diary)
  • Connie Willis’ birth month (Bellweather)
  • Rex Stout’s birth month (Fer-de-Lance)
  • Mark Kurlansky’s birth month (Basque History of the World)
  • when Iowa became a state (Age of Grief)
  • when Pennsylvania became a state (Appointment in Samarra)
  • when New Jersey became a state (Body is Water)
  • when Mississippi became a state (24 Hours)
  • when Alabama became a state (Boy’s Life)
  • the month the Cold war ended (Last Supper)
  • the month of Christmas (Father Christmas Letters)
    By the way, I’ll read only Christmas stories during the week of Christmas 12/24 – 12/30…and a Christmas story in between the other reads.

Anniversary Woops

gr4c52 Comments

BooksThis anniversary made my realized I missed another anniversary. Not the one when I walked down the aisle, knees banging together out of trepidation. No, I’m talking about a different one – a more MeMyselfMoi one. I’m talking about the one that has made me open books. Open and read lots and lots of books. On November 10th, 2006 I made a vow to read everything indexed in Book Lust and More Book Lust. As of that date I had read 95 books. 95 books read, reviewed and relished. That equals eight books a month or two books a week (on average). It’s hard to believe I am approaching my 100th book (Appointment in Samarra by John O’Hara). I have to say it feels good to get back to being a book worm.

Come a Colder Season

gr4c55 Comments

NatalieI’m having a hard time believing I am to hear this voice again in as little as 37 days. Never mind false starts and not-for-profit events. A real honest-to-goodness concert after four long years.
New York will be a colder place in a month’s time. Come a colder season called cruel winter. Mother Nature will see to that. But, nothing can compare to the depth of darkness I have been visiting only recently. It is time to shed the shivers and shake the shadows. This voice will take me there.

A Little Push

gr4c55 Comments

pushI’ve started a fitness program called PushTv after researching trainer Bob Harper. I was interested in getting to a program that was a little different than joining a gym. I’ll admit, this is really different. The first dvd came a few weeks ago but today was the first day I actually “worked out” with it. I decided I needed this Push because common sense wasn’t getting through to me. Try as I might I couldn’t convince myself to get going – not even when I announced it here, in this blog, in front of witnesses (or people who might actually hold me to my promises).

Here’s what I think of Session One:
I think I might have spaced it but I don’t remember Bob telling me I would need certain equipment. I know when I signed up I told Push I had all sorts of paraphernalia available. Did I think they would actually make me use it? Apparently not because Bob would say, “okay, grab your…” and I’d have to run off to retrieve the item: resistance ball, towel, chair, step, free weights, resistance bands…Each time I had to pause the dvd, especially for the step that has been in the basement since Jane Fonda days. Speaking of the step, I have a complaint. The Push people never asked me if I could make my step recline. Hello! I have the pink, turquoise and grey number left over from the 80’s when step aerobics was the thing to do. I would have missed the incline sit up session if I have taken the time to figure out how to recline. But, the workout with Bob was really rewarding. He makes it fun. I can see why contestants on The Biggest Loser get so attached to this tattooed yoga boy.
The Cardio session is a little bothersome. I don’t care for the instructor (she’s no Bob), nor do I really have the room to mambo around the room. She says “move that chair if you need to.” The question is, exactly where do I move it to, lady? So. I skipped the dvd’s cardio session… for now.
The next sessions were concentrations on areas of the body I said I wanted to work on. My chosen area of focus is abs but I was also given a bonus workout called “Ultimate Ass”. I like the trainer well enough and the exercises are challenging. What I could do without are the graphics. I don’t really understand the stars, shadows, palm trees and speakers. All that flashiness (plus canned clapping) gave the program a cheap 70’s feel. What was even worse was the ass graphic. Off to the side is a row of asses. I kid you not. As you work out, the underwear on each ass “goes away” and at one point it looks as if one of them farts. Seriously. To make matters worse, words of encouragement are flashed across the screen – sayings like “great job! Give yourself a spanking!” Yikes. I found myself doing the exercises away from the screen, but still listening to the instructor. My only thought was “Bring back Bob!”
My last complaint is that when I logged into my Push profile (after the workout) I thought there would be a “chart your activity” screen. Something to tell the Push people how I’m doing. Not really. I could change my initial preferences (like a changed the cardio chick), but I couldn’t log much else.

Not Sleeping

gr4c54 Comments

What is it about the question, “Did I wake you?” or “were you sleeping?” My knee-jerk reaction is to feel jerked back to childhood and to be accused of being lazy. Somehow, sleeping = sloth. So,  I am quick to retort “oh no! Nope. Not sleeping! Not me!” Never mind that a minute earlier I was so deep asleep it could have been compared to a coma. The funny thing is, even if I hadn’t been sleeping that tone of indignation still seeps in, “Who me? Sleeping? Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve been up for hours!” What follows is the barrage of proof, “I was just scrubbing the floor…with a toothbrush. I’m in the middle of doing laundry…by hand. I’m baking bread after just grinding the flour by hand…I discovered the way to achieve world peace.” Anything to make myself sound productive and as unlazy as possible on a Sunday morning.
In truth, it’s been a long time since I’ve slept in long enough to feel guilty about it. The hour hand of the clock has been at a reasonable angle when I get up. Reasonable for me, I should say. I have never been one to enjoy witnessing sunrises. Actually, I watch my sunrises on the Discovery channel to be honest. But, no matter what time I really wake up, get out of bed and officially start my day I still have this overwhelming urge to Do Something. Be productive. Even on a Sunday. Anybody got a toothbrush?

Storm in Flanders

gr4c5Leave a comment

Storm in FlandersGroom, Winston. A Storm in Flanders: The Ypres Salient, 1914 – 1918: Tragedy and Triumph on the Western Front. New York: Atlantic Monthly Press, 2001.

I’m thinking I shouldn’t have picked this book up in the middle of my current state of mind. Don’t get me wrong, Groom’s history on World War I is impressive. Between the diary accounts, breathtaking pictures and easy language (he called someone a “military nut” and someone else “butt-headed”), this wasn’t a dry read. I know more about military warfare than ever before. For example, I learned WWI was Hitler’s introduction to war, paved the way for him, so to speak. The Germans were the first to introduce poison-gas (mustard gas) warfare; and I now know the meaning behind the poppy-like flowers veterans sell outside the grocery store. I always bought them and hung them in Gabriel without knowing why.
There is humor to Groom’s language: “While the Germans pondered their next move, there was a four-day lull in the fighting – if you can call taking thousands of casualties a day a “lull” (p 51) and “…Germans binged on a gluttony of pork until they were virtually wursted and brattened to their limits” (p 119).

Since Christmas is fast approaching I am drawn to the story Groom tells of Christmas 1914 when both sides put down their weapons and pretended to be friends for a day, exchanging gifts, singing carols, playing games and even laughing with one another. Yet, when the day was over they went back to killing one another.

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter “World War I Nonfiction” (p 251). Pearl points out that Groom writes with compassion for the soldiers and I couldn’t agree more. I think that compassion is what makes this book so interesting.

Christmas Waiting To Happen

gr4c5Leave a comment

I want a real tree for Christmas – the smell of pine and cinnamon – traipsing through along the trails.
I want sequined soldiers and candy cane horses – twisting and shining on the limbs.
I want pastries warmed on the back of the stove – nothing sweet to catch fire.
I want my mother’s sweet potato casserole – you peel the potatoes, I’ll cut the apples.
I want giggling children excited by sleigh bells and flashlights – silly stories and big eyes.
I want warm blankets and fuzzy slippers to lose my toes in.
I want Silent Night sung by candlelight – a community drawn together by acceptance.
I want shadowy outlines of horses by dawn – their imaginary hoofbeats running over frozen ground, steam rising from flared nostrils.
I want to watch the winter surf with kisa by my side – my hand in his pocket, fingertips numb.
I want to count down the days – may they fly – by advent calendar of yesteryear.
To be HomeHome again. I’ll be there.

The Closer Getting Closer

gr4c511 Comments

Just last night I was joking with the in-laws about the Closer House Party. I am nowhere near the House Partying kind of girl, but for what it’s worth, I’m getting excited. No one likes the Closer as much as my mother-in-law! She suggested a theme like chocolate…something about fondue. We were all giggles about a fondue fountain…and the fact that her bag looks exactly like Brenda’s.
Ironically, my Closer “swag” came today! The box included some really fun stuff: Closer napkins, Closer plates, Closer thank yew cards, a recipe for Mama’s Pecan Pie, a Closer Christmas wreath, a Closer tin of something yummy, A Closer DVD to watch before the show and…a “you look guilty” Closer tee shirt! The same thing I wanted to buy when it first came out! The whole package was a great surprise!

So now, I’m rethinking the menu. My father-in-law is an amazing cook. He’s offered to make something…I just might have to tell people to come hungry, hungry, hungry!

9 days to go!

Happy Thanksgiving

gr4c5Leave a comment

Happy Thanksgiving!This will be short and sweet because I’m supposed to be mashing sweet potatoes right now. My father-in-law’s special request.

This is the time to be thankful for everything you have in your life and this is my list:

  • I am thankful for my husband. Kisa is truly my Knight In Shining Armor
  • I am thankful for my health.
  • I am thankful for my family (but miss them terribly).
  • I am thankful for my job as stressful as it is right now. I truly have my dream job, right dad?
  • I am thankful for my friends. I think I surround myself with the best of the best.
  • I am thankful for the music that sustains me.
  • I am thankful for my angels. You know who you are.

So, give thanks for everything you have in your life. In this past week I have learned that life is hard. Life can be a tragedy. The trick is to stay strong. Lean on the people who love you. Love the life you live and live it like it’s your last because you never know.

Death in November

gr4c5Leave a comment

They’re holding a memorial service for the man who jumped. Right on the spot where he died. What were his final thoughts during those last moments? Was he scared? Did he tremble? Or was he simply so backed in a corner he had nothing left to do but leap? Did he keep his eyes open to see the ground as it rushed up before him; his despair at its worst? Or did he shut his eyes tight in an effort to keep the hope in his head alive? Did his heart pound from fright or thrill, or was he calm knowing whatever pain he was in would soon be over? No matter how I try, I can’t put myself in his shoes. To be that jumper. Yet, I imagine I could have held his hand. I would not have been there to talk him down from the windy ledge. I could have held on to that hope, let it take me into flight. In the end, to be two crumpled mistakes, lying cold on the pavement.

Earlier in the week we lost a man to the elements. Right behind the bike path where I used to run. Dead to the elements. A homeless someone. It startled me, this report, because we hadn’t gotten a single snowflake yet. Was the frost really that killing? It seemed to be. It must have been. He was 42 years old and homeless and now dead. How did he die? Did he shiver to the point of exhaustion or slumber his existence away, drunk to the elements, those killing elements? Was there hopelessness to this homelessness?

Last night I drove past the unrecognizable remains of what used to be a person. Blood and gore smeared for yards. Clumps of something unimaginable, shiny red on the black pavement, our headlights glinting off the wetness of it all. At first I thought it was something spandex, plastic. Clumpy, red and wet. PoliceBlue lights flashed on the messy roadway as uniformed officers stepped from their vehicles, leaving doors flung wide open. Sobriety tests? I wondered. I had been hearing about them. A few more yards and I was passing a dog sized lump in the middle of the other lane. It looked exactly like roadkill. Roadkill wearing shreds of clothes, exposing bone, yet unrecognizable as anything definite.  No head. No arms or legs. Not male or female. Just a mangled mess. I stared in shock asking myself “Is this, was this, a human being?” Like nothing I had ever seen before and never want to see again. I drove the rest of the way to kisa in shock. Later, him being the newshound that he is, kisa sent me a video of the accident. A pedestrian tried to cross our paths and was struck 3, maybe 4 times. The damage done rendered this person as neither male nor female. Unrecognizable, irreclaimable. Who were you? What were you doing? Were you drunk? Disorientated? Just plain crazy? Where were you going and did you bet on Hell to get there?

Three deaths in less than a week. They haunt me still.

After the Plague

gr4c5Leave a comment

After the plagueBoyle, T. Coraghessan. After the Plague and Other Stories. New York: Viking, 2001.

After finishing A Diary from Dixie, Band Land, and The Crossley Baby I still had time for a couple more “November” reads. The topics already covered for November were: the month the civil war ended, the month Montana became a state, national train month, and national adoption month. I chose After the Plague because I hadn’t recognized National Writers Month yet (and if there is time I’ll also recognize November as the month World War I ended and read Storm in Flanders). The only thing I won’t get around to is honoring Winston Churchill’s birthday (born in November).

So, onto After the Plague. This is a collection of sixteen short stories. Pearl calls them “Boyle’s best.” They hang open, unfinished and unresolved like a to-be-continued drama on television. Each story is like being dropped into the middle of a movie, watching for a scene or two, and then being ushered away before the conclusion. If you like to hang in the balance this collection of short stories is for you. Even stories within stories are left unfinished. Boyle shows off diversity in every story. Some will shock you, some will make you remember something from your own life, but all of them will be a pleasure to read.
Some favorite lines: “I started smoking two or three nights a week, then it was five or six nights a week, then it was everyday, all day, and why not?” (p 48), and “I just watched her, like some sort of tutelary spirit, watched her till she turned over and I could see the dreams invade her eyelids” (p 164).

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter called “Growing Writers” (p 107) and “Short Stories” (p 219). I love how Pearl describes Boyle’s work, “…nervy and disconcerting, and often very funny, leaving you uncomfortable with yourself and the world” (p 219). So true!

Song Saying

gr4c5Leave a comment

Dear you,

BubbleGumI like crazy coincidences. I like it when something in my life matches something completely unexpected. BubbleGum has come through for me. He has a new song on his site (blog side) that matches exactly what I want to say. It’s the perfect song to pass onto certain people in my life. I have been struggling for words for weeks. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. I have spewed thousands of words while struggling for common sense. I’ve had more than plenty of words to say. Maybe, just maybe, too many to say. They just haven’t made sense. It was like I was speaking a foreign language, but it felt like I wasn’t being heard at all. I have been feeling talked out and tired from trying to explain too much. I am getting more and more stubborn and stupid. I want to just shut up; to stop talking totally. I practically pleaded for silence. It didn’t come. It won’t come. There is a difference between “silent treatment” and “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” Silent to avoid lashing out, being virulent. Silent to avoid saying something stupid, something I don’t mean.
This weekend it was decided more needs to be said, only not by me. This time I’ll do more auscultation than saying. This time I’ll be on the hearing end, hopefully. So, as BG says on his site, “say what you need to say.”

www.johnmayer.com/blog

Love, me

I Won’t Fight

gr4c515 Comments

I admit it. I hit rock bottom last night. After breaking down emotionally I lost all resolve, self respect and worst of all, the will to hold my ground. I’ll admit it. I told my husband I couldn’t take it anymore. I said I was tired from crying so much, exhausted from being so emotional and what’s more, that I didn’t want to be here. I actually said that. I don’t want to be here. Define “here” anyway you want. I knew what I meant and it wasn’t pretty. I once said desperation was an ugly word and an even uglier emotion. That was me, myself and moi last night. Ugly.
There is nowhere to go but up. From here, I can’t sink any lower or feel any worse. I’m backed into a corner and all I want to do is dissolve into a puddle of pitiful. Rock bottom. I am there. I am so there. That bottle I talk about? I tilted it back again and again, hating myself with each swallow. I danced like I knew what I was doing. An 80’s flashback and even a great drum solo couldn’t save me. I put on a face but ended up showing my true self. Ugly desperate. Drunk and done.

This Old Blog 11/18/05 9:31am

gr4c5Leave a comment

The black cloud just paid a visit to my neighborhood. It’s not exactly over my head but it will be there soon enough. I just got word that B’s father lost the battle against brain cancer. Wait. Let me take that back. There was never a fight. There was never a fighting chance. Because of that B moved his wedding date in the hopes Mr. B would be able to attend, to see his only son get married. In the end he was too sick to be there despite the (very) moved up date.He was told he had X amount of time to live. So he did. Now he’s gone. Just like that. The emotions inside of me are like fireworks, each one a different color and size and intensity. I’m angry at the very word cancer. I’m hurting because I know what it’s like to lose a father before your life really gets started.
Another friend is dealing with a different kind of death. The kind that comes after a breakup. The person might as well be dead to him because of the way she is handling the goodbye. He calls it immature and I can see why. But, what he doesn’t realize is that it is hard to be mature when you feel you have been wronged on so many different levels. It’s difficult to think in terms on “just friends” when you want something more. In response she acts, rude, forgets her manners, all common decency goes out the door. Still, I hurt for my friend. The death of anything is never easy.