From the Land of TOO Much Information

When I told Adrian that I was reading a book about traveling to Mars, he said his friends had been talking about the book. It's called Packing for Mars. Anyway, Adrian said his friends don't like the idea of manned flights to Mars. Very understandable because some of them work on the Mars Rover project. They should read this book. People who are thinking about funding a manned mission to Mars should read this book.

Don't get me wrong, this is a great book. Full of information about the human body and how these bodies are affected by space. Full of history about manned (and monkied) space flights. If she didn't have such a wry viewpoint, this could have been very boring. As it was, it just left me wondering why we should pay to send anyone up in space. It was a surprise that she said at the end that we should fund this dream because we wouldn't spend the money we save on anything better. That could be true, we could buy a lot of bridges to nowhere. Or we could fund unmanned flights, learn more and tax the bodies of astronauts and taxpayers less.

Remember I said it was full of information about the human body as it relates to space? Think of a part of your body or a body function. Think of it in space. It's discussed here. Skin, fat, bones, brain, heart, urination, defecation, sex, saliva, everything. Everything. Everything.

This would probably be a better book to read than to listen to. As it was, this was a very good book.

A Visit with Maureen

My college friend, Maureen, drove down from Seattle to visit her family last week. I got to sneak in a little visit on Sunday. She is just the dearest person. We can be separated for months and it still feels like we haven't missed a beat. Who else knows all the history of the intervening 40 years? Who else can laugh when I say that Reg is finally helping to support me with his Social Security payments? Who else will send a special message to Adrian when I'm showing her how I can take movies with my still camera? She is, after all, the Maureen that Adrian named our dog after when he was little. She was such a big part of his life.

Maureen was staying at Katie's house. Katie is Mo's sister and I haven't seen her for years. Gosh, it was good to see her, too. She's the only one still working. Maureen is still playing in the stock market. Not playing. She is a very serious investor. Sorry we can't see each other today when the market is bouncing back after its heavy drop last week. I don't know if she missed her moment to buy Proctor and Gamble. She's driving home today, so I'll have to see if she bought anything later in the week.

I can see that when I move up to Albany, I'll be making a lot of trips north and I hope that she can visit me more often there.

Finished Game Change on the way to Covina to see Maureen. Poor Mo. It was too much on my mind because of that. The Dreadful Edwardses, the foul-mouthed McCain, the muddled Palin, the over-confident and flawed Clintons, the brash upstart Obama. It was all good reading. As always, the person who comes off best is Michelle. That could just be my bias. It becomes easier to see how the Reps (and Dems) could be wary of Bill Clinton lurking in the background. Tom recommended this as a good read and I agree. Remember, nothing you ever read is gospel, which is why you must read a lot. It might as well be enjoyable while you do it.

A Tree Falls in South Pasadena

Wow, she does exaggerate. What happened was a delivery van clipped the low hanging branch of our pine tree. This was bound to happen. Why our landlord or the city doesn't do preventive cutting on these trees, I'll never know. I goofed on this picture. Adrian's car was right under that branch. It wasn't hurt. The branch is so long that it hung over his tall Jeep. Kinda slowed down traffic, which was great.

The city responded so quickly. We had a cop out front within half an hour. He closed the street. The saw truck arrived about ten minutes later. The tree branch is still out there, cut up, lying at the curb. We'll see how long that takes.

I met the neighbor from apartment 2. Yes, I've lived here 9 years. Your point is what? He's Gordon, just retired from Sears. Has lived in that apartment for 40 years. Wow. He also confirmed that the apartment complex was built in 1949. I was thinking '50's. Pretty close. I just had one art deco element to go on. I also found out that our loud neighbor, Manuel, bugs him too. His car radio drives me crazy. Gordon told me that he does the same thing with his house music. I am so lucky to have very quiet next door neighbors.

I've started a new needlepoint. This one is a picture of a Parisian Bistro. You can see that after a few days I've almost completed a window. There is a lot more to do. This means that I've been doing a lot of listening. I've finished 2.5 books since I started.

I re-read Six Days of the Condor. Yes, six days. They shortened the story to three days when they made the movie to fit better with Robert Redford's image. Why leave him hanging out in the cold for six days? I remembered really liking this story thirty years ago. It's less complex than I like now, but was still pretty exciting. The author does a short segment at the beginning, telling about writing the book and the transition to the movie.

I also read Deadheads by Reginald Hill. This was very good. It's part of a mystery series set in Yorkshire. I like the detectives, Daziel (pronounced DL) and Pasco, and the plot is really good. You sort of know what's happening, but not really and the ending is very good.

I'm currently listening to The Serpent's Tale by Ariana Franklin. This is the follow up to Mistress of the Art of Death, set in the time of Richard II. The heroine is sort of a one woman CSI for the Middle Ages. Fun. Audible had a half price sale on books or I'd be dead in the water. This needlepoint is going to take a long time. See how little it looks on that big piece of fabric?

Just remember how it was hard to see a cat when I started my last needlepoint. He eventually grew into a real cat surrounded by a library of books. It just takes time.

Maybe it will be done before I fly back to Virginia for two months, starting mid-June. I decided to do some summer temp work at Booz Allen. Let's hope it all works out as planned.

Say a Little Prayer

Where have you been! I've missed you. Where have I been? Probably in my living room. Or walking around the block to return Netflix. Yes, the busy life. Right now I'm trying to figure out how to pay income taxes, but that is a dreary story. Now that the weather has turned hot and clear, dreary stories should be dismissed.

And so, I will tell you about A Prayer for Owen Meany. Most of you must have read this already. It's pretty old. If you haven't and you like novels - get it. Read it. This is one of those whipped cream books that you want to spread all over your body. Hum. Maybe not a great image. Lotion?

This book was written. It isn't just a plot with dialog and action tacked on. It's full of words and thoughts that make you stop to think. Here's a website with some of Irving's words. Those are great, but I guess you do need a plot to help you understand why someone would say them. So.

The book is about a small person with a strange voice who lives in New Hampshire. He kills, dies and loves but not in that order. You, too, will probably learn to love this guy. And his story. It helps if you subscribe to the political views of the characters, but that might not be necessary. If you read this book and don't agree with his political views, please write me to tell me if you liked the book anyway. I cried at the end. You must know that I don't cry about anything. But there I was with huge tears streaming down my face, sobbing. I knew what was going to happen in the end because fore-shadowing is big in the book. Didn't matter. Hiccuping sobs.
On the lighter side, I read a biography about Charles Dickens. I've been reading a lot of his books and decided to re-read the story of his life. This was pretty interesting. He was a piece of work. His attitude toward women stinks. I've just read Little Dorrit and was struck by the character Flora. Seems Dickens did not care for his old flames to grow fat and made a joke of the sweet Flora with her dithering and run-on sentences. He also preferred to bring young women relations into his house. That left his wife to bear and care for his kajillion kids. Ah, my kind of man. At least he likes words as much as Irving. But, for now, I think I'll try to read more Irving and less Dickens.

At the Corner of Sweet and Sweet

Note to self: Don't judge a book by your impression of it as you fall asleep listening. Most nights I fall asleep listening to something. And then I lie in bed in the morning catching up on all the stuff I slept through. But when I listened to Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet I was not at all impressed. So I never went back to it - until late last week. Ya' know what? This is a pretty good book. Chinese boy, Japanese girl, Seattle, very early 1942, late 1986. It's all about that; and all that Seattle jazz. I really enjoyed most of this. I had problems with the internment camp segment because I remembered how pained my mother had been about losing her school chum to Manzanar. There's a lot of good stuff in here, including communications between fathers and sons. Or miscommunications. Good. I'd recommend this to my friends who liked The Help because this too is a story about people and feelings.

Went to The Times on Friday and saw a mess o' folks. It was a lot of fun. Per and I had lunch. He gave me a bunch of dried vegetables to try. Per loves to cook as we do in this house. He mail ordered tons of different kinds of veggies. How sweet of him to share. I look forward to experimenting. I saw Harriet again for the first time in a long time. She's now VP of Tribune Technology. Good on her. She is so capable, not always a recognized thing. In this case, it means she gets to spend 3 weeks in Chicago.

All my Times friends are traveling fiends. Per just got back a week ago from Chicago; Manny, Alexander and Dianne just got back from a management meeting; Tom is in Florida or Chicago every other week. Tribune has decided that it's better to fly than to hire. That's probably true. I guess that's like Cindy in Arlington. Only she's never in Arlington. They're all becoming George Clooney!

Saturday was a trip to the farmers' market. It was raining buckets in the early a.m. I'm usually there at 7:30, but it didn't look like it would ever stop. Then it did. Almost everyone was there vendor-wise. I hope the buyers came by. I thanked all the vendors for showing up. At that point, it looked like it was going to be another beautiful day in the neighborhood. When I got home it started to pour again. Poor vendors. Lucky Peggy. My timing was perfect.

Watch Out

Not everyone is lucky enough to own a Watch Camel. Some people have dogs to watch the doors, we have a camel. We've had the camel since Adrian was young. So was Julie. When she decided that a camel would be a perfect gift for Aunt Peggy, the aunt was curious. It became clear over the years that the camel is here to make sure nothing bad happens to us. This apartment has the perfect look out spot. Some may say it's a 50's design feature. The camel calls it home.

Just behind the camel, the needlepoint has progressed. At one point there was still a lot of blank spaces.

Now I'm writing words and outlining owl's eyes. My punny friends and families would like the catcentric titles of these books: Tale of Two Kitties, Three Wined Mice, and Caterbury Tales. Oh my, almost too silly even for me. I'm almost half way through the finish work.

As I needle, I listen. One of the things I've been doing is re-reading books in my Audible library. I'm very happy that I decided to listen to Legends again. This book won the Times' Book Award for Mysteries a few years ago. Littell did not leave his home in the south of France to pick up his prize. How smart of him. He would have had a huge admirer gushing all over him all evening. This book is probably too brutal for squeamish souls because it starts with a man being buried alive. It's hard to say those people shouldn't worry, because ... Because I can't tell you why. And besides, bad stuff happens all through the book.

It's about a CIA agent who can't remember who he is, he just remembers the legends that were created for him when he took on other persona for his missions. I really love the complexity and language of this book. I may have to read it in another three years.
Audible had a sale on first books in series. They were just $5.00 each. What avid reader of series could resist? First was the beginning of the Kurt Wallender series, Faceless Killers. Good for a $5.00 book. Stuff happens, mysteries are resolved. These are plodding stories. I wonder if the cold has something to do with that.
Harry Bosch is never plodding. I'm sure I read The Black Echo when it came out. Michael Connelly had just left The Times. It was fun to have a guy I knew from afar as a best selling author. The book is rich with the feeling of Los Angeles. Good book, nicely unraveled solution to the mystery.
Red Hot Lies as brought to you by Harlequin. In other words, chick-lit with a mystery twist. OK. Nice look at corporate culture.
Baltimore Blues is about the city of Baltimore and the ever shrinking newspaper world. It's not the Baltimore Sun, but some made up newspaper (I think) that has let the protagonist go. This leaves her at loose ends to pursue her rowing and amateur sleuthing. It was fun to know a bit of the city, she talks about the baseball park and the nearby Lexington Market. Adrian and I got to explore a bit of each. The mystery was OK.Rain Fall takes place in Tokyo. Never been there, probably never will. I have a friend who goes there a couple of times a year. I think he's 75. I kept trying to picture him in this very crowded and fast moving city. Maybe he knows some quiet spots.

John Rain, not my friend, is a middle-aged assassin. He's one of my favorite type heroes who can kick anyone's ass at any time. Do these people really exist? I liked this book so much I read the second in the series, Hard Rain. Why is this so much more satisfying than the Baltimore lady detective? I don't think it is gender. Maybe it's cluelessness. Maybe it's because she could possibly be a real person and John Rain could never be. It is fiction, after all.

The Flaw

I got to hear the band of my friend John on Sunday. They are Murphy's Flaw and they play bluegrass. They also have way too many people for the little stage in this coffee bar. John is 2nd from the right. He's the banjo player. They also had two mandolin players, two guitar players (one is a guest from Nashville), a fiddle player, a bass player and a Dobro player. They were very good.

A few months ago, The Flaw fell to pieces. Many of the band members left. Poor John was left without an outlet for a month or two. But he is resourceful and a good banjo player, so he was able to draw a whole new group to him. They seem to have a lot of fun playing together. After an hour they had a commercial break. The young mandolin player sang the credit express dot com song. Cute. Then he and the visiting guitar player did a few numbers together.

Fun evening.

Do you ever re-read your books? The thought never crosses my mind because I can't see these books. But I've been spending too much money on audible books purchased outside my monthly credits. So I've been browsing my "library." I have well over 300 books. It's been fun looking through them to select a "few" to put on my iPod. That and Per convinced me to read a real paper book by a real Norwegian writer. I don't know which surprised Adrian more - Paper? Norwegian?

Aftermath

They were still sawing on the weekend. No rain, no winds, just preventive measures. Can you see it? The big tree had grown all around the overhead wires that run down the street. After many hours of sawing limbs, they had to leave little plugs of tree that had grown around the wires. You can maybe see the big one in the upper middle of this picture. There are several smaller ones as well. Deferred maintenance. If the trimming had been done regularly, the big limb might not have brought down wires on Tuesday and would not have brought repair folk to clean up the mess for the rest of the week.

What we all needed was the good man, A Zeitoun, of New Orleans. He is late of Syria and a very busy construction entrepreneur. Married to an American who has converted to Islam, father of three daughters and a step son. He stayed behind during Katrina because he had been through too many storms to be afraid of this one. He rowed his old canoe through the streets after the levee broke, helping many people along the way. He also came in contact with those sent to protect the city. Major failure of effort. Major disappointment of attitude.

Okay, that's what I read before I got mixed up with the audio. I thought I was in the first half, knowing I had only one more chapter to read before moving on to the second half. Instead, I'd opened the second half and went to the last chapter. It was there that I found that Zeitoun had been arrested at his own house, put in jail and made inaccessible to his wife. He was mistreated in many ways I won't know, released and the arresters refused to give him back his wallet with his driver's license and immigration papers. Money was stolen from him and all his friends who were arrested with him. By whom? The only people around were the military and the police. Disgusting. His wife was devastated and changed forever. He still loves New Orleans and The United States.

The worst part about the story is that it is true. I won't go back to read the bad bits that I missed due to my error. My faith in the goodness of people is fragile enough. I will have to be satisfied that the Zeitoun's are good people. The bigoted, inept, scared people responsible for helping New Orleans upright itself are now in Haiti. I live in fear.

What is the balm that soothes the savage breast or the mind troubled by the failure of some people to be civil? Mystery!! Fiction!! Calgon, take me away from the reality of life. Ms. Grafton takes me away in the Undertow. Good book, perfectly diverting. Kinsey Milhone is still trying to figure out her relationship with her family. Her landlord is still a sweetheart. Plenty of stuff happens. Perfect balm for Zeitoun. Before I leave that, just let me say that Zeitoun is very well written. I just have a low tolerance for intolerance.

I've gotten a lot done with my needlepoint. Pictures another day.

Cat on a Bookshelf

Sometime before I moved into this apartment I started a needlepoint and had another one in reserve.That poor thing sat through a lot of years and got very dingy. So I decided to give it a quick burial and start the new one. This is a cat lying on a bookshelf. After two days and buying a new pair of up close glasses, this is what I have - part of a book, part of a shelf and a little tiny bit of cat. It was pretty funny. I couldn't even thread the needle while wearing my other glasses. It's fun to watch this thing change slowly. I'll keep you updated. I have a feeling that I'll be reading even more books. Little Dorrit has been hanging on my iPod for a while. Love this Dickens fellow, but he was paid by the page. Lots of characters, lots of plot. Some of the plot was relevant to today. Like how much nicer it is not to always be chasing a buck. How the best thing you can do is care about other people. And how you can't trust bankers to always do the right thing. The Dorrits were thrown into a poor house at the beginning of the book. Another character finds himself in there at the end of the book. This was really good. The reader was fabulous. One character cannot control her words, they just flow from her in some sort of mind dump. He did that so well. When she comes into a room, you know you're in trouble. What I like is how Amy just listens and pulls out the thought. That must have taken a lot of patience and practice. Those are, by the way, both P words that make your mouth look lovely when you say them. Just ask Mrs. General.

Not so good were the cupcakes I made today. I was making a brownie cupcake from Epicurious. Some of the comments were about how oily the recipe was. Others loved it. And now I understand how all of that happened. You are supposed to use chocolate chips and unsweetened chocolate. I decided to just use bittersweet. Didn't read the directions carefully enough so I melted all that chocolate. I should have melted 1/2 cup of the chips and saved the other 3/4 cup to fold in later. Oops. So all those people who were complaining about puddles of oil in the cupcake pan should have read the recipe better.

On the other hand, the Bailey's Mint Chocolate Chip cupcakes turned out pretty good. I did what someone else did - I used mini chocolate chips and folded some into the frosting. I made large ones for Adrian's game group on Sunday and little ones for me to taste and to send the rest to the Monday game group. These must be guys who will eat anything because they are getting the oily brownie cakes. Viva young men's stomachs.

As always, LIG. Happy New Year.

Oops, Now What

I can't believe I read the whole thing! Yet, since my last post, I have read all of Louise Penny's mystery series. There are 5 all together and after reading the last one first, I hungrily dashed through the other 4. And now it's over. Please, Ms. Penny, please, please, please, write the next one soon.

I was listening to one of them while in bed on the 24th. It was very cold for South Pasadena, I think in the 50's. I kept debating about what I should be doing instead of being warm and listening. Then the reader talked about making split pea soup with a ham bone. That got me out of bed. I was at the counter of the Honey Baked Ham store in no time. I bought the smallest ham they had, honest. It was 11 pounds. For two people. Tsk. To make matters worse, I bought a smoked turkey breast because I started to think about how much I miss turkey. Tsk.

Thank goodness for the freezer. The ham bone, much of the ham and most of the turkey are tucked away for future use. The big plan now is to make red beans and rice for New Years with that ham bone. It's supposed to bring you good luck. And don't we need some of that?

Actually, I've been doing fairly well on the luck side of things. I started jury duty on the 28th and didn't have to go in for the first two days. We'll see if my luck holds for the last two days. I'm not sure how many trials start the day before New Year's Eve and on New Year's Eve. I'm guessing not many, but you never know about those lawyers.

I also found time to finish The Brothers Bulger. I didn't know that Howie Carr was some conservative talk show host from Boston. But I'd already paid the money to him, so I decided that I might as well read it. Not bad, but not very interesting either. I guess it would mean a lot more if you actually lived in Boston. The story takes place from the late 70's to the early 90's. What I learned was that the FBI was terribly corrupt in that area. In order to get rid of the mafia, they turned a blind eye on their Irish snitches. One of those was Whitey Bulger. The other brother was the president of the state senate. I totally believe the part about giving jobs to everybody and their dog and retiring with a huge pension. What I really didn't care for was the run down of every little action the brothers took. Boring.

Not boring was When you are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. He reads this series of random stories. For once, I'm glad to hear the author speak. He does have a little whiny voice that might be irritating, but it is droll. His observations are hilarious. I wasn't sure I was going to enjoy the last few segments of the book about quiting smoking, but I did. He and his partner move to Tokyo so he can do this. Like all his stories, the main topic is not what the story is about. Or it is, but there are 50 other main topics thrown in. His inability to learn Japanese, Japanese customs, lots of stuff.

When he is in the Japanese class he tries to learn how to obfuscate. The Japanese people are far less direct than Americans, so learning how to say something without really saying it is quite a knack. While reading about this, I kept thinking about the last time I was on jury duty. A couple of Japanese tourists were mugged by a local hoodlum and the police went to Japan to get an ID. The other members of the jury couldn't figure out why the victims didn't say absolutely that the picture they selected was absolutely the doer of the deed. Culturally, it was never going to happen. And I was never going to convince the other jurors of that fact. So maybe it's better that they don't call me in this time.

A Christmas Gift

Let me be the first to admit that I am not a voluntary Christmas celebrant. This is the one bad thing that I will lay at the feet of The Times. For more years than you can imagine I had to work on holidays. This means that Adrian had to be prepared for Santa to show up on any door step where he might find himself. Santa might come days early or late. Poor child must have guessed something was afoot before he could really start believing in the magic.

When I got out from under the yoke (misspelled as yolk. I can't get that image out of my mind, so I thought I'd put it into everyone else's mind) of work, I would spend Christmas with Mom and Dad and then Mom alone. We didn't have any traditions to disrupt (thank you, Times) so we kept them company. I remember one strange Christmas spent on the Queen Mary. Actually, that was pretty interesting, but Mom was becoming a little more unsure of life by that time.

And now it's just the two of us, so we are spending the time in our undecorated apartment doing what we do best, cooking up a storm. And reading. I just got the most wonderful present, a new mystery series. I read the last book in the series first, A Brutal Telling. It is set in a village south of Montreal, just above the Vermont border. The plot is intricate. People are complex. Fabulously written. My only warning is that you should really start at the beginning. I am now reading the first in the series. I have the second waiting on my iPod. The only danger I see here is that I may read them too fast and get to the end of the short series before she plops out a new book. That would be sad because I know I will be sad when that happens. Until then, I will just enjoy an expected Christmas present.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good read.

Four Queens and a King

The province of Provence once had a family with four daughters who became queens of England, France, Sicily and Germany. Four Queens is about their lives and how they came to power. This is also the story of four sisters so you know there is a fair amount of back stabbing and intrigue. Even when you have a favorite sister, there is still the other two to contend with. It's a somewhat dry book, but I learned a lot about the age. Their father and mother kept a very enlightened house, teaching all four girls to read in an age when most boys did not have that advantage. There were troubadours and poets. It's a shame that they had to leave that to live with mean mothers-in-law and political intrigue.

If you bought 4 books Audible gave you $10.00 toward a future purchase. I didn't want to get sucked into spending even more money because if what I was saving, I decided to buy a book that cost less than the $10. The Abominable Man was a nice Swedish police procedural that fit the bill. The protagonist is Martin Beck. I think I worked with him at The Times. Hopefully a different person, because this Beck is a little dour. So I had a good read and still have $.24 to spend. Cool.

I continue to be the never ending baking machine. Never ending to the point that I ran out of flour. Adrian remedied that problem, but in the meantime I'd found this recipe using cake flour. It only uses 1/4 c. + 1 T. so I hardly dented the new box of cake flour. I found the recipe on a blog called Chocolate Shavings (ourchocolateshavings.blogspot.com). I have no idea how I found that, but these are amazingly good. We did not have them with the ganache so ours were much healthier.

As soon as I got these out of the oven, Adrian made a deep dish pizza from scratch. He is amazing. I don't like deep dish pizza, but I loved this. I did get a picture, but haven't down loaded it yet. Next time he visits you, be sure to ask him to fix this. He is definitely the king in this story.

Chocolate Pear Cakes
Serves 2

1/2 stick of butter
2 tablespoons of lightly packed brown sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
1/4 cup + 1 tablespoon of cake flour
1 good pinch of kosher salt
1 tablespoon of cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon of baking powder
1 tablespoon of milk
2 pears

Preheat your oven to 350F. Add the softened butter and sugar to a medium-size mixing bowl. Using an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy (about 3 minutes). Add the egg and beat until just incorporated. Using a small whisk, whisk in the vanilla extract. In a separate bowl, mix the flour, baking powder, salt and cocoa powder. Add the flour mixture to the butter batter in small batches, whisking the mixture until homogeneous. Whisk in the milk.

Peel the pears making sure to leave the steam intact. Using a small knife or melon baller, carefully scoop out the core of the pear leaving the pear intact. Ladle the batter evenly into 2 individual ramekins. Form a well in the middle of the batter with the back of a spoon and place the pear inside the well. Gently press down so that the batter settles around the pear.

Bake for 20 minutes or until the top of the batter is set. The inside of the batter will be gooey so the toothpick test will not be a good indication here. Let the cakes cool and serve with chocolate ganache.

It's Autumn!

It must be autumn. It is in the 50's, the trees finally have a reason to change color and drop leaves. It is so hard to be a tree in Southern California, you never know what you should be doing.

I finally know what I'm doing. I went to the tree trimming party on Monday with several dozens of cookies. Everyone liked them, so that was good. I baked one batch this week of fresh ginger cookies with cocoa and chocolate hunks. I threw in macadamia nuts because I had them and had lost the recipe that uses them. Punt.

Dined with a few friends during the week, Dan and his wife Karen on Thursday, then breakfast with Maggie on Friday. Man, I've gotten to be such an old lady. Adrian and I eat dinner early, about 5:30 - 6:00. Dan wanted dinner at 8:00 on Thursday. Somehow I brought out my young self and survived. The cookies I baked on Thursday were for Maggie and Ernie. I'm not sure if Ernie got any. I know Adrian's friend Emily didn't get any. Those I didn't give Maggie were consumed in no time. Which makes me think I should probably stop baking for a while.

It started raining late Friday and continued through the farmers' market on Saturday morning. For once I got to sleep in late because I knew the parking lot wouldn't be jammed an hour before opening. It was worth going. Dungeness crab is in season. I bought a big one and some salmon. And I made sure to thank every vendor as I shopped. It would have been horrible to show up and have them all tucked in their beds. One vendor and I marveled at the abundance of the market. We still have grapes, berries and tomatoes. I think the tomatoes are grown hydroponically, so it isn't really weather centered. We are very lucky to live near this wonderful market. This book, Madness Under the Royal Palms, is about people who think they are lucky to live in Palm Beach, Florida. Boy, what a hive of sickies. Or maybe it was the author who brought the sickness. Leamer is famous for his books about the Kennedys. I get the feeling that he is fascinated with wealth. The folks in Palm Beach have it. They don't like poor folk, they don't like Jews, they don't like gay couples. They do like young women if they are old men, they do like gay men to escort divorced older women, they do like to leave a huge carbon footprint.

I like South Pasadena.
Let The Great World Spin is mostly about the time when that French guy walked a wire between the World Trade Center towers. It tells a series of stories about an Irish priest-like person and his brother, a prostitute and her daughter, a judge and his wife, among other stories. They weave together with the story of the wire walker. This book won the National Book Award for fiction this year. I liked it. I always like stories that interlink in interesting ways. It was also very evocative of that time when the man walked, a war raged and a president resigned. It's a good book.

Reading and Visiting

So many books to read. So many friends to visit. Unfortunately, not everyone. I had lunch with my friend Rachelle on Monday. The company was great, the food, not so much. I'm happy to learn that she and her husband Jack are well and happy. What more could you want for your friends? I missed seeing her the last time I was home, so it's been about a year. I like friendships that resume where you left them, even after long absences.

I'm still a bit sad about not seeing my family at Thanksgiving. This was my decision, so I have nobody to fault but myself. Basically, I am happy to not be on the road during this most traveled time. And I will be happy to see everyone when people aren't being pulled to visit other family members. And Adrian and I are very thankful to be here is our little apartment, eating our hearts out. I have finally finished Out of Mao's Shadow. The author writes/wrote for the Washington Post as their China correspondent. Lots of stories about how autocratic the Chinese are with their new capitalistic economy. Sadly, it's hard to get all up in arms about their actions when we do many of the same things. Some wealthy people are getting preferential treatment while increasing their wealth and devastating the peasants. This is hard reading. He writes well, that's not the issue. What is the issue is that some people are never going to get a fair shake. Sad. But as I was explaining to Adrian about the Chinese government taking peoples property in Beijing, he reminded me that the same thing happened in Connecticut. Well, it wasn't exactly the same, but the similarities are there. And Pan explains very clearly what Mao did with his Cultural Revolution and other programs which undermined the intellectuals and business people. Silly, sad man. Poor country.

That was interespersed with two entertaining mysteries, Rough Country and Through a Glass Darkly. Rough Country is about murders in Minnesota. Cute male detective. Lots of lesbians. I guess there is something for everyone. Cute detective is standard for Sanford as is Minnesota. Lesbians are not. It wasn't bad. Made me consider wearing lipstick more often, though.

Through a Glass Darkly is about poisoning the canals of Venice with the leftovers from blowing glass. I'm sensing a theme with Ms. Leon. She is very ecologically minded. Yokay. As long as we know what we are getting into when we pick up a book. I like her detective and his family. They are very loving, intelligent and care a lot about each other and the earth. Not bad.

Fork in the Road

Old joke: What do you do when you come to a fork in the road? Take it. It seems that a local Pasadena artist took that to heart and shook it up. He didn't find a fork in the road, so for a friend's birthday gift, he added one. I love this. The road divides at this point and the huge fork has been placed in the median between the diverging paths.

As I am at sort of a fork in the road of my life, I'd like to take this as my symbol. Should I return to work? How should I use my time? How can I give back? What a fun place to be. Sort of like the median in the middle of Pasadena Av.

And here is another thing perfect for where I am in my life. Great Expectations. As I've been saying, that guy Dickens could sure write. He wrote two chapter segments for a periodical each week or month. People must have sucked up that magazine when it hit the stands, because I was always wanting to know what happens next in this book. Young Master Pip was given great expectations by a secret benefactor. How all of this ends up is just like life. How we get there is just not like anyone's life I've ever known.

People will be reading this and other Dickens books into the next century. I wonder which current authors will still be read in future decades, much less centuries? John Irving? JK Rowling? Dan Brown? What makes a book be a classic? I'd say - good plot, fluid writing, and interesting characters.

Another thing always sticks out for me in a book that might not make it a classic is an original way of saying something. Sometimes a sentence will strike me and I will want to write it down and memorize it. I never do, but I'd like to. That doesn't happen as much when I listen. Sometimes the writing just makes me gasp. Maybe I'll try writing those sentences here so I can find out if they make other people gasp.

Books I Have Known

I've been reading while I've not been writing. There were a few nameless thriller/mysteries and these:

Okay, The Girl Who Played With Fire is a thriller/mystery. It is the second in a trilogy written by a now deceased Swedish writer. This was really good. You learn a lot about the heroine of the first book, Lisbeth Salander. She is a fascinating woman. LOTS of stuff happens. Most of this stuff you've never read in other books. Loved it. I listened to it on the road. When I'm on the road, I tend to go to sleep listening to whatever I'm listening to. That means that I got to hear some of this story over and over again. For once, that made me happy.
Olive Kitteridge has Book Club written all over it. Oh, and Pulitzer Prize. This is a series of short stories about a small town in Maine. Olive is a teacher in the town and appears in all stories. This is a great way to tell her story. She is an unpleasant woman whose unpleasantness becomes more obvious as you read. But that didn't mean I hated this woman. She was just very sad and hard. A great read.
Audible had a sale on Classics. I got four of them and have only finished one to date. Rob Roy is interesting because it isn't about Rob Roy. One thing that you learn when reading classics as an adult, as opposed to as a high school student, is that they are just like modern fiction. Do you remember slogging through Ivanhoe when you were in school. OMG, that was tough. Maybe it's because it was a requirement. Rob Roy is about a young man who doesn't want to go into the family business, banking (or money lending). He travels to northern England to live with an uncle. His cousin goes to London to take his role in his father's business. There is romance, intrigue, economic catastrophe and war. Rob Roy keeps popping up. All characters are interesting.

Where Men Win Glory was tough to read. It is about the life and death of Pat Tillman, a pro football player who volunteered for military service after the events of 9/11. The only reason that I decided to read it was that it was written by Jon Krakauer. He does very thorough research for all his books. I'm glad, because I don't want to read about this topic ever again. Tillman was killed by friendly fire in Afghanistan. Friendly fire is an odd term. I don't think I'll write that ever again while I'm never-againing. His death was turned into a media circus by the Bush administration, covered up by the military and, finally, an outing of duplicity of the highest order. The best part of the book was reading about what a fine man Tillman was. He was interested in reading everything. He loved to talk about what he read, getting input from people with views different from his. He was friendly to everyone. He hated the stupid rules of the military that makes years of service and rank more important than clear thinking. He thought about everything, kept a journal and always worked to be a better person. Okay, I'm going to say it - I wish all of this could have been said about his commander in chief.

The most fun? I'm home with Adrian who asks me what I'm reading and loves to talk about everything. We had lunch today at our favorite noodle place. The food was great, the conversation was the best. Even better? I'm almost done unpacking. I'm seeing more floor and flat surfaces. LIG.

Red Faced in NC

No, you know me. I haven't been to the beach yet. You may take that to mean I never will. I'm not crazy about sand and sun, so Adrian and I have done other things. I'll post again after I've downloaded pictures. If you want to see where we are look here. I'm redfaced because this place has a lot of books. We found Silva's The Defector. Remember how I thought it ended abruptly and was a little upset about that? Hummm, guess I fell asleep at the end because Eric didn't think it ended in Russia. Nope, it didn't. It actually had a very complete ending. Sigh.

The Help is a fabulous book. It's about the life of maids in Jackson, MS in the early 60's and their impact on the families they serve. It was great to listen to. Adrian and I are also listening to Nixonland. The beginning of Nixonland covers the same period of time as The Help. It's interesting listening to the two different perspectives. Even so, it's Chick Lit. Lovely, obnoxious people to hate and ever-suffering, kind people to love. Nothing really horrible happens to anyone and the two protagonists live happily-ever-after. Chick Lit. Love it.

New Tricks

As my dear friend, Per, would say, "Hubba hubba." I am one happy camper. Adrian arrived on Thursday. We went to a Nationals' ball game on Friday and today he barbequed a wonderful dinner. Chicken, fennel, peppers and pineapple. Fabulous. All of it, fabulous. Tomorrow we leave for the Outer Banks of North Carolina. It is all good.

New Tricks is the book that I read through sleep and a couple of days. It was pretty cute, good mystery and enjoyable enough to go back several times to catch up on things that I missed when I drifted off during the night.
Drifting off was never an issue with The Elegance of the Hedgehog. The question was whether the girl would kill herself, would the concierge successfully hide from all her "charges?" There is a lot of philosophising in this book. You can skip that. Lovely plot. Good characters. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and never fell asleep once.

The End of August

I think I made up for only blogging once in July. It pays to work only 2 weeks out of a month. Well, that would be wrong. Nobody pays you not to work. My dear Linsay is back. And work will be coming in, I'm sure. She even found a half day job for me for Friday, but Adrian arrives on Thursday night and I am looking forward to spending time with him.

I have filled this time with reading while California burns. So sorry, dear friends, it sounds horrible from the right coast. I was half way through two books last night. Both were too good to listen to as I drifted to sleep. So I played a light weight mystery. I listened to the first half hour and drifted off. As usual, I awoke every couple of hours. I'd hear the story advance as though I was reading it while riffling the pages of the book. There was still an hour left when I woke up this morning so I got to hear the end. I'll probably do the same thing tonight, but start further in the book. By the time I'm done, I'll have heard it all.

One of the really good books is The Stalin Epigram. Robert Littell won The Times Book Prize a couple of years ago for his book Legends. I loved that book. He writes like Le Carre. This is a deep and slow moving book. It's about the Soviet Union in 1934. People are snatched up and tortured. They are shot or exiled. Somehow I kept getting Stalin's name mixed up with Cheney. Not really, but you can see where Cheney got some of his ideas.

The story is about a little poem that Osip Mandelstam wrote about Stalin. It was not complimentary, so he was jailed then sent to a gulag. I'd highly recommend this for those who need to be reminded what happens when people do not have our constitutional freedoms. One fascinating character was a weight lifter who was jailed for having a sticker of the Eiffel Tower on his suitcase. He can't read and is as dense as a post. His take on his trials is fascinating. It doesn't answer one of my questions about whether dumb people know that they are dumb. He is, but he is a lot happier than the very smart poets. Ignorance is bliss. And is a delight to read.

Little Missy Is Not All That

This is written with mixed feelings. I had a job for a week and they did not like my work. At least, that's what I assume. Nobody ever told me why I wasn't working a second week on this assignment. The job was filling out forms and putting packages together for people who had left / were leaving the firm. Mind-numbingly boring work. Lower paying work. But it was work.

Was I too slow? Was I too inaccurate? Don't know. Ms. Linsay wrote me an email and told me that I wouldn't be returning. Can't wait for Monday to say I'm sorry. But deep down, I'm pretty happy. That was a miserable job with a pack of 20 somethings. Kind of depressing, but I think I'll get over it.

I've heard about this series about Inspector Dalziel. This is the first book I've read about him and it's about his death - The Death of Dalziel. Let me tell you one of the true joys of listening to books; I now know his name is pronounced DL. Forget every letter inbetween. He's a cop in Yorkshire and his right hand guy is Peter Pascoe, who solves this mystery. It was a good introduction to the series.

American Lightning is supposed to be about the crime of the century. It's a very good book, but I wouldn't give the crime that elevated stature. The story is about a lot of Americans living in the 1910s. During that period anachrists blew up The Times building. I'd read a book about this 40 years ago by Adela Rogers St. Johns. Her father was Earl Rogers. So here are all the noted people in this book:

• Harrison Gray Otis - publisher of The Times. Reactionary. Swindler. Helped bring water to LA so he could sell it.
• Harry Chandler - his son-in-law. Business man, slightly less money-grubby than Mr. Otis. Their building was blown up because of their anti-union stance in a time of high militancy in the labor movement.
• D. W. Griffith - Biograph Pictures director. Not sure why all this about early movies was in the book. Movies went from one reelers to full length movies during this time. Mary Pickford and the Gish sisters are in the book; D.W.'s womanizing is here. But really, not that relevant.
• Clarence Darrow - Defended the bombers. This was interesting, before the Scopes' Trial. He was trying to move from good causes to more lucretive trials. He was tried for tampering with a witness during the trial. Earl Rodgers defended him - to a point. Then he defended himself.
• Billy Burns - Burns Detective Agency. He tracked and found the bombers.

And I won't tell you who the doers were. This was an enjoyable book. I think Ms. Rogers' biography, The Honeycomb, told about the bombing a bit more thoroughly, but it's hard to remember after 40 years.

And now I have time to plan for Adrian's arrival next Thursday. Hurray!! We are going to the North Carolina shores next week.