Summer Reading

This summer I've been chewing through books like an industrial paper shredder so I thought I'd share the reviews I've put up over at Goodreads.com in case anyone needs some suggestions.

This book was sent to me by a friend shortly after I received my initial cancer diagnosis.  She was one of the people who understood my sick brand of humor in dealing with such news and thought I'd enjoy this book.  I saved it for the times when I knew I'd be most scared and need a laugh more than ever.  It did not disappoint.

Lawson mines her completely bizarre upbringing and resulting mental health issues along with various life traumas for total comedic effect. When I read Augusten Burroughs' memoirs I felt like some sort of sick voyeur and failed to see his brand of humor. Jenny Lawson however, is just plain funny. How funny? Funny enough that as I sat in a cancer hospital awaiting an appointment to tell me how we'd be addressing my own malignancy I sat in the waiting room laughing hard enough to convulse silently with tears running down my cheeks at some of what this woman had written. If you can make me laugh that hard when I am in that scary a context you deserve five stars and more. Hats off to Jenny Lawson for not only being funny but having a point in the end about accepting where you came from so you can move forward and even return to find the value in the bizarre.

 This book was recommended by Logophile.  If I needed very much to laugh before surgery this book helped me cry (in a healthy cathartic way) after surgery.  

This should be required reading for medical students. Doctors should pass this out free to patients facing either chronic or life-threatening illness. Remen shares stories of her own illness and stories of patients with whom she has walked through peaks and valleys of their health battles. There is a very personal touch here allowing her to reach her goal of this being a story telling session at the kitchen table with a trusted friend.

Remen shows respect for both patients and doctors as vulnerable human beings because she has been on both sides, in fact still was as of the writing of this book. There is hope that connection and honesty about mutual vulnerability layered with dignity and respect promotes healing in ways more than physical and that it is all tied together.

I read this one concurrently with the last book on the recommendation of a yoga teacher who has gone through serious illness.

I think it will take me a while to process this and sift out my final opinion of it but there are certainly a great many valuable concepts here for those facing either chronic or life-threatening illness. I've read some criticisms saying this book reduces illness to a blame the victim stance. Since Siegel is exploring the mind-body connection and part of the process involves patients processing why they "needed" a particular disease in order to make the changes necessary to live more fully I can see why some folks would respond to this book in that way. However, I do think it is ultimately hopeful in that it empowers a person to see they are not passive recipients of either disease or cure, that one can participate in and influence one's own outcome.

 By the time I finished the above books I was heading to the beach and needed something with a completely different tone.  This mystery written by Coopernicus fit the bill quite nicely.

I'm not typically a reader of mysteries but I quite enjoyed this one. Chynna Lennox does not quit and I couldn't stop reading. Cooper creates a crew of realistically flawed main characters and truly deviant villains. Even with the villains he provides more than flat explanations for their deviance which allows the reader to view the horror they perpetrate as not just gratuitous plot twists but the consequences of being caught in a tragic downward spiral. On the other hand, Lennox and her friends battle their demons and though we know those demons will not back down any time soon the reader knows, neither will this gritty protagonist

 After a mystery I was ready to laugh again but have some food for thought as well.  Lewis Black worked well.

While the title suggests Black has little faith and though he lays out his gripes against various organized religions he does reveal his own brand of faith, which merely has little to do with dogma. I know plenty of very theologically conservative people who would react as he describes a former classmate's reaction (a letter seeking to lay out the evangelical Christian road to heaven). I'd like instead to see them actually read this book and consider some of what Black says because whether one agrees with his conclusion or not it provokes thought and gives some good laughs in the process. Though I do adhere to significantly more orthodox belief than Black does I fully agree with him when he says we all need more thought and more laughter in our lives. Furthermore, I contend that being angered or threatened by mere differing viewpoints is indication that one actually lacks faith in whatever point of views they are most rabidly "defending."

 Since I feel the need to make some changes in my own life. I am a great fan of A.J. Jacobs and his willingness to engage radically with the ideas he chooses to explore. In this volume his quest is to become the healthiest man alive. He experiments with various diets, exercise programs, and other life-style modifications which remove toxins from his environment, change the way he does his desk job, and gets him meditating. He offers up the evidence provided for each change he makes, often tries out conflicting philosophies, and tracks his own reactions and progress. During the two year project he loses his 94 year old grandfather and an aunt in her 60s (a woman extremely devoted to an organic lifestyle). Jack LaLanne also dies in the process of Jacobs trying to schedule an interview with him.  These events provide further grist for the mill as he considers what it best.

What I appreciate most is that though Jacobs gets extreme in his experimentation he ultimately seeks a middle road, a sense of balance in life. This is also not a how-to book written by some guru who lives up in the ether somewhere. Jacobs starts out as a self-described semi-squishy guy simply looking to get healthier so he can stick around longer for his family. In the end he has made significant improvements to his health and found what works best for him in terms of creating habits that keep him well but don't distance him from those he loves. Along the way he shares his frustrations, successes, and insights in an authentic way.

I know I am late to the party with this book but I finally got around to reading it after it languished in my "to read" pile for a long time.


This memoir is rich with lessons borne from self-examination and a willingness to enter into the world of another when Simon agrees to spend a year riding the city buses with her sister Beth, who has mental retardation. By engaging in the routines of her sister, Simon gains insight into not only her sister's thinking but her own. The result is a discovery of an unexpected but loving community as well as greater understanding of her sister. Perhaps the greatest lesson for Simon and all of us is just being willing to take a journey and be open to wherever it may lead, those we encounter along the way, and what we can learn from our fellow travelers. Beautifully told.

This was a good, fun, easy read while sitting on the beach.

Tougias gives a gently humorous reminiscence of his early years owning a very rustic cabin in very rural Vermont. He shares how his attitude changed from wanting to conquer his environment to wanting to learn from it and peacefully co-exist. It's a brief but sweetly unpretentious modern-day "Walden."  

 I really enjoyed the last run of books and I knew I'd eventually hit a clunker.  For me, this was the book to end the run though someone else may enjoy it more.

Oppenheimer was a verbally precocious child who had a a serious mean streak (in fact he went so far as to cause a friend's father to be investigated by police after a false accusation) and few friends as a result of that combo. In junior high he found the debate club to be his saving grace in allowing an outlet for his argumentative ways and an opportunity to make friends. Through high school and college being on a debate team was a major part of his life. Oppenheimer obviously has a great facility with words but for a fellow so willing to let us know about his prowess as a debater he never persuaded me to care very much about his story or demonstrate that beyond the debating arena he ever learned to apply the lessons his mentors sought to impart. He just comes across as a privileged brat who can't get his head out of his own ass. A solid "Meh."

 After that I needed to have my faith in humanity restored.  Kate Braestrup did so wonderfully.

Braestrup was married to a Maine police officer who planned to leave the force to become a minister. Instead he was killed in a car accident and she went on to become a chaplain to the Maine Game Warden Service. She explains why the Game Wardens might need a chaplain (lots of dangerous or upsetting search and rescue missions), how she arrived there, and what she does.

At no time does she descend into maudlin sentimentality or an overestimation of her significance but neither does she shy away from sharing her own pain or that which she witnesses, nor does she underestimate the power of simply listening to people. It seems she strikes a beautiful balance both in life and in writing by just bearing compassionate witness to the complexity of both tragedy and triumph along with a dash of gently self-effacing humor. 

April

April seems to keep accumulating negative sorts of anniversaries both for the world at large and for me personally.  This April seems to also be refusing to allow Spring to fully arrive.  One thing I do like about April is that it's National Poetry Month.  I have not yet honored that so today I will share a poem I heard for the first time this week.  It reminded me of one of the places I have found solace since I was a child.  In a week which involved bombings, and health crises, and a celebration of the Earth, it seemed so fitting on so many levels.

I know a number of other folks are having their own set of struggles so I offer a simple poem which spoke to me in the midst of frustration and concern. I hope others may find a moment of rest as well.

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.


— Wendell Berry 

Nana

We've had lunch.  We've attempted naps and some quiet time to alleviate the bad case of the crankies to no avail.  The toddler, preschooler, and kindergartener are all getting under each other's skin and getting on my last nerve.  I hear a car pull up and park on the street out front.  The door closes and now there are footsteps on my porch.  I wasn't expecting anyone so I am a little surprised.  Maybe it's for the neighbor in the other half of this duplex.  No...

There's a happy little face peering in my front window now.  I see her and start for the door.  She motions me to stop before tapping on the window to catch the attention of the arguing kids at my feet.  I direct their attention to the window where they see their great-grandmother, my Nana, smiling and waving through the window.  They all race to the front door as I try to open it.  They tumble around Nana's legs trying to reach her as she bends to hug them.  We are a tangled and squealing knot of family all bunched up at the door.

Finally, Nana is able to make her way inside the living room from the cramped space by the door.  I'm able to give her a hug at last.  Nana announces that she was just out for a drive and decided to stop by.  Understand she lives 90 miles away.  Ah, the joys of retirement!

The kids are anxious to show her their toys, books, artwork, anything really.  Nana thinks nothing of getting down on the floor with them.  She makes plastic dinosaurs knock down towers of blocks for Isaac.  She has a tea party with Calypso.  She reads books to Diana.  I take a  minute to breathe and enjoy not having to be the sole source of entertainment or referee of fights for a few moments.

Nana announces the floor has become a bit hard and she is going to sit on the couch with me while they keep playing.  The kids agree happily and begin playing together nicely for the first time all day.  Nana and I enjoy a bit of time catching up with each other.  She tells me about how she is doing in her bowling league and where her next trip will be.  I tell her about the new things the kids are up to.

I invite Nana to stay for dinner since it's getting to be that time of day.  She declines telling me she needs to be on her way.  She never was one to stay put in one place too long.  I urge her to stay just long enough to eat.  She laughs and says maybe next time.  The kids beg her to come back to the floor with them.  She bends to hug each one as she reaches for her coat.

As unexpectedly as she arrived she is gone that quickly but her visit has blown out the stale air of contention and replaced it with a light breeze of happiness.  The kids return to their toys but without arguments this time.  I head to the kitchen to begin dinner with a lighter heart.

So many times over the years my grandmother would pop in like this sometimes alone, sometimes with a carload of her friends, always unannounced and yet always at a moment when we most needed something to break up the monotony or soothe some grouchy kids (or a grouchy mommy).  Nana has been gone for many years and I sometimes I long for a surprise visit from her just so we can share some laughs.  Today, on her birthday, I'll just hope you enjoy a favorite recurring scene that left lots of happy memories of her.

Ingredients for a Good Beach Day

Make sure you have a reclining beach chair.  It's nice for when you want to snooze.  The hat for blocking sun is also helpful.

If you're a fair-skinned red head you may want to opt for the full-towel burqa when the sun becomes too intense.

Make sure you have someone to deliver merlot to you when you become parched.  If a cabana boy is not available a generous step-uncle is a nice option.

A noodle is good for floating around the river and not too cumbersome to schlep to the beach.

Make sure you have your camera ready for dramatic pre-storm shots of the sky.  I'd also have to say a nice roofed golf cart is handy for hightailing it off the beach just before the lightning reaches your side of the river.

Make sure to bring a sense of humor so you can laugh when one of the pictures makes it look like a tiny person is standing on the back of your father's chair so she can pick your head for lice.

And if you don't like my suggestions this is all Diana and I have to say...

Good times...good times...

Mission Accomplished...

...a good time was had by all.  There was good food, copious drink, good conversation, sunshine, water, and quality reading material.  Pictures to follow later....since Monday morning calls...

Take Me to the River

I'm headed to my Dad's place in Maryland for my annual "run away from home" week. There shall be books by the beach and mimosa mornings.  Then I'll rejoin my family refreshed and fortified for the next set of summer insanity.  See you all in a week or so.

My Choice

If a woman over 40 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it.  She does something she wants to do and it's usually something more interesting. ~Frank Kaiser In Praise of Older Women

As I said yesterday, I found alternate activities for game day.  I was visiting my parents for the weekend and took Sunday afternoon for myself.  I've posted in the past about how I find cemeteries calming places (here and here).  Since I was close enough I decided to go visit my grandparents' graves.  Though I like to see old headstones that actually stick up from the ground my grandparents are buried in a more modern cemetery where all the markers are flush to the ground.  It's a pretty large place but fortunately both sets of grands are in the same section.  The funny thing is my paternal grandparents are "neighbors" to the folks who were their next door neighbors for nearly 50 years.  I had a little trouble finding one set of grandparents but in the process I stumbled over my great-great grands.  I said hello since I was there.  The weather was so mild and sunny.  It was a nice, peaceful stroll in a quiet place.

Back of the mansion with 2 additions

After a little visit there I went to a local historical site.  It's the Colonial mansion of the town founder whose family was deeply intertwined with my dad's forefathers (who founded the first iron works in our state).  For a very minimal donation I was given a private tour of the place since it was not at all busy.  I was a little disappointed that even non-flash photography was not permitted inside the building (so you'll have to live with outdoor shots that don't correspond to what I'm talking about) but the tour was quite informative and interesting.

Front of the mansion

For years, I've been involved in a 19th century living historical farm where I currently live.  That setting is far more rural, involves the Pennsylvania German subculture, and was peopled by common folk.  The Colonial mansion was inhabited by the Donald Trump of the day, who was an English colonist.  Even though the mansion was a century older than the farm where I help I was surprised by how much more advanced some of the technology seemed to be.  The differences privilege makes even with the great time lapse were notable.  The most interesting bit of technology, which I had never seen before, was a clock jack.  This gadget employed a weight and system of pulleys to turn a large spit in order to roast cuts of meat large enough to feed a couple dozen people without having to remain hearth side for the duration of cooking.  The complexity of the the mechanism and the cost associated with producing or repairing it kept it out of the economic reach of most folks.  Then again the common folk weren't necessarily cooking to feed 20-30 people at a time either.

The part of the tour that made me laugh hardest was when the guide pointed out how a table in the parlor was set for a colonial drinking game that makes beer pong look completely wimpy.  A large bowl was filled with spirits into which raisins and almonds were added.  The alcohol was lit and party-goers had to reach in and grab as many raisins and nuts as they could....you know...without setting themselves on fire.  Those crazy colonials!

Another interesting item I learned about was pudding caps.  No, it wasn't some weird drinking game or even an eccentric beauty treatment whereby colonial women conditioned their hair with glops of pudding.  Pudding caps were padded hats worn by toddlers to protect them from knocking their noggin too hard, thus turning them into pudding headed dolts. You can see a picture of one here.

All in all it was a peaceful day with beautiful weather.  I had time for some reflection and education and I was content to do my exploring alone. That beats football by a country mile any day of the week.

I've Got the Power

We went without for 51 hours, which is far less time than many folks in our area who remain without power.  I'm proud to see the way our community is responding with lots of schools and other facilities open for showers, lots of places for drinking and flushing water distribution and hot meals.  I am thinking of the folks in Vermont who are cut off from so much help that they are relying on airdrops of supplies.  It's rather mindboggling to think this storm affected folks from the Carolinas to Canada.  I was cranky about being inconvenienced but really had no room to complain considering how much some folks have lost.  I'm grateful we all are well.

During the storm we had to take Calypso 3 hours away to report for her internship program.  That was a rather "interesting" drive to say the least.  We made it and got her safely settled in and her adventure has begun.

I spoke to my dad in Maryland and he tells me the new house is still standing though part of the beach and a local road were washed away.  My last load of laundry is tumbling around the dryer before I finish packing up for a long weekend away from responsibility.  I'm taking a big stack of cheap books from the closing Border's store so even if the weather is crappy I will be happy.  The men of Casa de Lime can fend for themselves a few days.

Hope everyone has a nice weekend and power, water, and homes are soon restored to order for those who are in chaos.

Now let us dance.

Rest

The Bible says even God rested on the 7th day after creating the universe and all it contains.  I don't feel guilty for needing one if even the Creator saw fit to do so.  It seems frequently my need and the demands around me are at odds.  This is even more the case in the last couple of months.

I don't work today...well, not for a paycheck anyway.  Right now I am blogging from bed.  I'm awake but not willing to get up yet.  Once I'm vertical my day will be driven by paying bills, doctor's appointments, phone calls arguing with insurance companies and billing departments, running the mom taxi, laundry, and the list goes on.

I ran across this simple site and followed the directions .  In fact, it's still playing in the background as I lay here.  It reminded me of the best night's sleep I ever got.  It was during the bicycle trip I was on the summer of 1987 when a group of us went from East Coast to West Coast in 65 days. (If you're interested go to the archives from the summer of 2007.  I posted a new chapter every Tuesday.) One night we slept on top of a cliff along US-1 in Big Sur, California.  We rolled out our bags under some tall trees and slept on a cushy bed of evergreen needles.  We fell asleep to the sound of the ocean and woke to the same.  It was blissfully relaxing.

So anyway, I am taking a breather for a few minutes and sharing it with you in case you need it.  Tell me how you define rest and what was your best night's sleep in the comments if you'd be so kind.

Slice of Lime-Sleeping In

I've been having long days and late nights this week. Last night when I went to bed Mr. Lime was tossing and turning so violently it kept me awake. Fortunately, one of the benefits of a kid at college is a spare bed. I grabbed my pillow and moved to her bed.
I slept much better without a thrashing bed mate.
I slept so well I never heard anyone else get up
and never woke up until 9am.
Aaahhh....

Felt good.

Trini Tuesday-I Think I Need a Vacation

After the last few days I'd like to make a little escape. Finances and schedules being what they are it's not too likely I'll make one to Trinidad any time soon but I thought I'd go back to some of the previously unseen slides I was able to scan so we can take a trip to the beach together. I've posted about Maracas Bay and Toco Beach before. Even if you don't want to read the text, I hope you'll enjoy the pictures. Today's are from Toco.

Our dear friends (We'll call them Ren and Flora) on the island introduced us to Toco. Ren used to work there so he knew all the secret places. Toco quickly became a favorite spot for me because it was entirely undeveloped and raw. Very few people bothered to make the trek unless they were local because it was so far out of the way and not at all easy to access. There was also a neat little lagoon behind the beach, which gave it a remote feel to me.

Flora and me. Flora liked this picture because it was one of the few we had together but she was slightly annoyed because it makes me look taller than she is, which is definitely not the case. She made me promise any time I showed it to people I'd explain she was standing in a hole when the picture was taken. I am keeping my promise, Flora.

Here Flora and two of her girls are fighting the sideways current. Yes, sideways. Toco is at the northeast point of Trinidad so the water flows down the east coast and across the north coast. that sideways current is far more powerful than any undertow. In fact, there are few waves and very little undertow at Toco.

Toco also has some very rocky sections. It's fun to leapfrog around the big rocks during low tide or just sit on them and watch fish in the little tide pools.

Here are a couple other pictures I like that aren't from Toco. This is from Maracas Bay and I just liked the muted colors in it. Maracas is on the north coast where the mountains descend dramatically to the sea.

Leaving Trinidad completely, here's a shot of Pigeon Point, Tobago. Tobago is the sister island in the republic of Trinidad & Tobago. It's a far more touristy place than Trinidad is and beautiful in its own way. I've only ever been there once but I liked the way the silhouette of the roofed pier came out so I am posting it now.

Aaaaaah, I needed that. Thanks for coming along. I hope you enjoyed it too.

Slice of Lime-Put De Lime in de Coconut

A week or so ago, maybe more, I shared the wonders of coconut water on a hot day in the tropics. Here's a common scene from around the Queen's Park Savannah in Port of Spain. There are several trucks with the bed full of coconuts. Guys with big machetes sell them cheaply and expertly hack off the top in quick order.

Since I was a tourist he handed me a straw for my drinking pleasure but most folks would drink it straight from the nut. As a bonus you get a rare picture of me with very short hair....which is a story in itself.

>

Operation Relaxation: Successful

Dinner with Embee and her family at their house (And how much fun were all of them? Well, she seems to think I did not pick up on her crazy. Personally, I think my crazy just matches hers so it's all comfortably good. Her kids are sweet, funny, smart, and cool enough to be welcoming to Mom's "imaginary friend." Her husband is a stitch because he floored us all by indicating just how much he read up on me to make sure his wife wasn't inviting an axe murderer to join them for dinner...or disjoint them as the case may have been if I were really that sort of crazy. BIG thank yous to all of you for being so hospitable.): check

Safe arrival at one beach cottage (At midnight because the lady in line at the supermarket I stopped at on the way to the cottage after leaving Embee's was very concerned about being charged 10 cents too much for her Hot Pocket and the manager took FIFTEEN minutes to price check the wretched things. If only I'd had a dime to give the woman...): check

Sleeping late: check

Sleeping late: double check

Sleeping late: triple check

Strict adherence to the one garment rule (choose wisely): check

Many libations: check

Generally lovely weather (kinda crazy wind at the beach but that just provided entertainment watching people go chasing for things): check

Many hours in the sun (perhaps a bit more sunblock would have been advisable but no complaints, really): check

Books to read(I had a pile but only got through one. There was some distraction by Sudoku books. Hey, it's not like I have a required reading list, ya know.): check

Dinner out on Dad's dime (complete with waiter who seemed happy to keep checking on our well-being because it meant a chance to also check my cleavage but hey, everyone is happy here...we got good food and good service, I got called "beautiful" [as in, "Ok, beautiful, what would you like, this evening?" Yeah, he worked us all, but who's complaining? He wasn't over the top. If we wanted surliness we'd have gone to the Waffle House.], the waiter got a fat tip, Dad and Mary were entirely amused by the whole scene [and really, could I possibly make this parenthetical aside any longer? It's starting to remind me of Suldog and at this point I am nearly compelled to draw it out as long as possible. I think the point I was trying to make is all but lost now, which is not unlike my own conversation after 2 Mai Tais and half a bottle of wine at dinner, but I have SERIOUSLY digressed...]): check

Two entertaining kittens (very cute most of the time. I didn't even begrudge them wrestling on my bed at 5 AM since, as previously noted, I got to sleep late.): check

Amusing and convivial step-family in nearby cottage (A step cousin even expressed a bit of worry when I showed up far later than they expected me. Nice to know they had my back. I'm lucky Dad married into such a nice bunch.): check

Big pile of fireworks to blow up (and complemented nicely by the bigger pile someone else was setting off on the beach.): check

Aaaaahhh......

Friday 55 & Da Count-Thelma

FRIDAY 55

Blues skies and warm sun beckon along with the mountain roads.
We strap on the helmets, climb on the bike.
Thelma roars to life before settling into a satisfying growl.
The wind rushes past us as we speed along.
We lean into the curves as one
uniting with the landscape
rather than passing through it.

DA COUNT

Mr. Lime played hooky yesterday, which is most unusual for him. Normally, I can't convince him to take a sick day even when he really needs to. He has accumulated some absurd number of sick days. I wasn't sure what to make of it until he simply said, "Wanna go for a ride?" I certainly don't need to be asked twice so I jumped at the opportunity. We spent 3 hours on the bike (Thelma) on a glorious Spring day in the mountains. We rode way up north and when we stopped for lunch Mr. Lime asked if I had ever been that far. He had no idea I had spent many summer weekends there when I visited my grandparent's vacation place as a kid. So in addition to a nice long trip on scenic roads I enjoyed a contemplative trip down memory lane. There is a meditational quality to being on a bike. It clears your head of clutter so thoughts can clarify. There's no pressure for conversation since it can't really occur on a bike. I highly recommend it and making it my count.