Final Blog Post for the Year

This is the last post of the year. Not sure what I want to write about, but felt I should write something.

It's 60 degrees outside but supposed to start getting colder as the rain arrives later today. Tomorrow is supposed to have some icy roads. Lisa has to work.

Lincoln is S...L...O...W...L...Y getting a little more comfortable around the house; but still no physical contact. But I am confident he'll come around.

I have my annual bladder checkup for my cancer, or more specifically, check to see if I am still clear. It's next Tuesday.

I can't wait for when I can get my COVID vaccine.

I've read 72 books this year according to GoodReads. And according to another spot on GoodReads, I've read 52. I don't know where the discrepancy lies, but don't have the motivation to find out right now.

We're having lobster tails, shrimp cocktail, and a crab ragoon appetizer. A small chocolate cake with white icing is for dessert.

Hot dogs and sauerkraut for New Year's Day.

I think I'll come up with a few goals - not resolutions - for the new year. When I'm done, I'll post them.

That's it for now. Happy New Year!

Update on "TMITH" (Pronounced Ti'mith)

 The Mouse in the House is still active. Here are pictures of some of his travels around our home.

Here it is trying to get out the front door, or maybe guarding it.

                                

Near the living room...

Trying to get into our bedroom...

"Cooking in the kitchen...

And finally, in the study next to his magazines...

And lastly, a pic of the mysterious "Gray" mouse

Christmas Eve

 For the longest time, I always thought of Christmas Eve as being strictly the evening and night of the 24th of December. I've slowly changed my mistaken view of one of my favorite days of the year. This is what I remember about it, but I am sure that my brother Jerry will have some slightly different memories. Probably both of us are right.

 

Growing up, I remember getting so worked up with excitement that often I'd get a fever and upset stomach. My younger brother would as well. We'd have to lie down for a while until a nap would make us feel better. Here we are at about 7 and 4 maybe?

When I was about 9 or so, and Jerry was 6, our Uncle Wayne, Mom's brother, began taking us to a movie that afternoon. He was 11 years younger than Mom, which made him more like an older brother to us. It helped a little.

But my favorite memories of Christmas Eve was the people, and obviously the cooking and food. Not that I did any. Mom was Italian on both sides of her parents, so you can imagine what it was like. We had a small house in the country; a living room and a kitchen adjoining it, with two small bedrooms and a bathroom. We usually ate in the kitchen; except for Christmas Eve. That's where the "Italian ladies" would work and set out the food on the table. The men would sit and eat in the living room.

Gram, Mom's mother,  would come out in the late morning - usually driven out by Wayne - and start to prepare the food. Pop would have already gone into town earlier and bought two of the fishes: smelt and bacula (cod for non-Italians). I know that the dinner was traditionally centered around seven fishes, but for the life of me, I can't remember if we had any other fish. I know we had pasta with meatballs and we had salami for sandwiches and just for eating. I can't remember what else we had, I just know there was a lot of it.

Gram was divorced so it was just her and Wayne who came out. But Gram had two sisters, both older I believe. Brunie, the oldest, was married to Dewey. They usually came. They had a son, Lou, who I think they visited on Christmas Day. Then there was Julia, married to Charlie. Their unmarried son, Leo, would come out with them. And oh, I forgot - our collie dog, Bambi, would be in the living room on the floor so everyone had to be careful walking around her. 

Here is a photo of Gram (standing at left), Julia (standing in back), and Brunie (sitting). This is a very early photo. Gram wasn't even married; her boyfriend at the time was standing between her and Julia. Standing on the right and behind Brunie is Dewey. Charlie is sitting. I don't know why they were arranged that way in the photo. Maybe no one was married yet??

Anyhow, back to my story about Christmas Eve. Charlie and Leo smoked cigars so it got pretty smokey in the living room even with the windows open. Pop didn't smoke cigars usually, but I think he may have had one sometime during the day. I know Wayne did. Leo was an expert trap shooter, so he and Pop got along very well. But then, everyone got along well together as I remember. Charlie worked in a glass factory just like Pop, just a different one. I can't remember what Dewey did.

I remember the smells of the cooked fish, the pasta sauce, and the cigar smoke. It was a great aroma. But I couldn't wait until everyone left so we could go to bed. For tomorrow Jerry and I would up at 6!

It has changed a lot now that I am older. But I still love the memories of when I was growing up. It was indeed a simpler time.

A Memory Question

 Memory is a strange thing. I just finished a book that I first read 30 years ago. I remember it quite differently. 

Then I would have recommended it to my JROTC students. For some reason, I did not. Now I would not have recommended it.

As far as war stories about Vietnam go, it was a very good read. It just bothers me that I remember it so differently. But then, the story is about one soldier and how he remembered events and changed them in his mind.

I wonder why I did.

A Change of Policy

I've decided that it is time for me to lift the prohibition on my blog about not talking about politics. Since no one reads my blog anyhow (!), it doesn't really matter. I'm also lifting my self-imposed ban on discussing religion and faith.

One area that I have been interested in is Germany between the world wars, Nazism, Hitler, and the Holocaust. Denying the Holocaust is coming up again in the news these days because of the similarity of the denying of the recent past presidential election. Though the two subjects are linked with common thought processes, some other elements can be compared.

David Irving, the author of bestselling books on Churchill, Hitler, Goering, Goebbels, and Rommel, sued Deborah Lipstadt in an England court in January of 2000 for libel. Irving was denying that cremations did not take place at Auschwitz; in essence, denying the Holocaust ever took place. The Holocaust on Trial is the story of that trial.

In another book, I will investigate the minds and actions of common Germans concerning the Holocaust as well. Hitler's Willing Executioners is a comprehensive examination of this. 

At some time I hope to compare the atmosphere and environment in Germany back then with today's landscape here in America.

In other news, The Mouse in the House continues to move. I have found him in the kitchen near the stove as well as next to our bedroom door. I have also discovered he has a gray twin as well, but haven't been able to capture a picture of him yet.

Our Own "Elf on the Shelf"

 We have our very own Elf on the Shelf thanks to Lincoln, our new cat. It seems he moves around one of his toys; specifically, a small stuffed mouse which he plays with in the middle of the night.

Sometimes he bats it under a bookcase and we have to recover it for him in the morning, but then the next morning he'll have it somewhere else.

I wonder where it will be on Christmas morning?

John Lennon

Today is December 8. Important for several reasons. It's the day after the Pearl Harbor attack in 1941. it's Safe Harbour Day which many politicians are happy about. It's two days after Hiroshima and one day before Nagasaki. And it's that day John Lennon was killed outside on the steps of his apartment in NYC 40 years ago. For me, this last is particularly significant.

Forty years, one week, and one day earlier, I was walking past the exact spot where he was shot and killed. I was in the Army stationed in Delaware but had taken that weekend to go run the NYC Marathon. I was teaching at the University of Delaware and one of my students has an older brother who worked in the city and lived in a small studio on the Upper West Side. I stayed with him that weekend.

I had finished the marathon the Sunday and was walking back to take a shower and pack to return home. I had an Amtrak ticket for that afternoon.  As I crossed a parallel street I noticed the Dakota, the famous apartment building that Lennon and other celebrities lived at. I thought of Lennon being there maybe at that exact time.

I remember walking - actually limping - past with one of those light foil-like blankets wrapped around me.

I still have that blanket.  

Lincoln

 Yesterday, we got a new cat. I told Lisa it would be her Christmas gift. She's been wanting another cat for some time. Ally had passed away a year ago September. 

Lisa made out an application with the local shelter and went down yesterday to look at the cats they had had available. Because of COVID, you have to make an appointment. Hers was at 3:00 pm. I told her it was her decision as to which one she chose. She said she would know once she got around them. Anyhow, before I say any more, let me introduce you to Lincoln!

He's three years old (born on July 2, 2017), a domestic short-hair. and only about 8 pounds! He actually is a smaller version of Smokey!! He came from a hoarder situation of 26 other cats and most probably one of the smallest, if not the smallest of them.

That clipped tip of the ear is not from a fight, but it's what many shelters do nowadays. If a cat would get away again for whatever reason, they would know that it has already been neutered or spayed, and wouldn't be a priority for re-capture. Sounds harsh maybe, and many people don't like the look of it. I told Lincoln to tell folks it was from a knife fight.

He is very shy right now, but has eaten and drank and used the kitty box which are all good things. Right now he is hiding somewhere resting. I've got my normal easy listening music on so he can get used to things around here.

When Lisa comes home she will get down on the floor and try to play with him. She has a way with cats. That was what drew her to him. When she first saw him, he was very shy. But when she went back into the room, he came up to her and rubbed her arms. She knew then. But it was difficult to choose.

Lincoln's name at the shelter was actually Link from the Legend of Zelda game. All of the cats received names from games. I went online and l read about Link and saw a picture of the character.

 I don't think he would want to be associated with that type of person. Better our 16th President of the United States, right?

BTW, here is a picture of Smokey. It's from my post of January 7, 2014, the day we lost him to cancer. But the picture was about 6-8 years earlier.

A Food Memory

 Last week's Thanksgiving feast reminded me of another time when I enjoyed good food. I was washing this cooking jacket when I remembered what good food we enjoyed there. And one particular time, we helped to cook the food.

When we were living in New Jersey, there were so many good places to eat. It was very difficult to choose from. One place we found was actually a restaurant in a hotel. The Hilton at Short Hills was located in an upscale part of central-eastern New Jersey west of Newark and east of Morristown. An upscale shopping mall was located nearby (named The Mall at Short Hills for some reason!) which we often would walk around but seldom buy at.

Back to the cooking jacket. After we had eaten there a few times, including anniversaries, we saw an announcement promoting a new project: a chance to cook your own meal and then have it served to you! At the time the cost was $150 per person. This may sound expensive, but once you add in the experience of preparing and cooking alongside real chefs for over three hours, the price sounded reasonable to us. (Some people go to casinos; some go to resort beaches - we went to good restaurants.) 

So we signed up and made reservations for a Saturday evening. When we got there we were first taken to an area that had clothes lockers and individual lockers. We were told to leave our dining clothes - jacket and ties for the men and similarly appropriate attire for women - there and we could take a shower before we sat for dinner. Working in a hot kitchen, the thought of a shower sounded like maybe a good thing later.

Next, we were taken upstairs to the kitchen. Surprisingly, it was not a huge room, but obviously, every bit of space was taken up by some useful workspace. We met the head chef and a few of his assistants. Then we were given our assignments. Lisa was first responsible for wiping the edging of the dinner and smaller plates with a cloth towel to ensure each shined without any fingerprints. Later, closer to dinner, she squirted little dollops of sauce on dessert plates around the dessert. I was given an equally important and responsible job. I was to tie up those little straight green beans in small bundles with long pieces of chives. These were called haricot verts. From what I remember, they were raw and would be thrown in boiling water just for a few minutes before taken out and plated.

I forgot to mention that both of us had a supervisor. I forget who my wife had, but I had a young man about thirty-two who was one of the sous chefs. He (I'll call him Jeff) had been working there for several years. His previous job was on Wall Street in Manhattan as a trader. He just decided one day to quit and do something he loved to do. And that was cooking as he told me. 

Our station was small and crowded and we worked essentially back-to-back. It was sort of like working in a small galley on a boat. I worked in front of a long flat table where I had everything before me. Jeff worked in front of a very hot stove that had both a flat grill and several burners, all of which most were going full blast during the afternoon I was there. I can see why they provided the opportunity to shower and change clothes before dinner. Speaking of changing clothes, I just remembered that we were provided tocques, the chef hats, as well. We kept them for a while but since there wasn't any real opportunity to wear them they sort of disappeared.

About 5:30 that afternoon we stopped doing our jobs and were given a short tour of the other areas in the kitchen. My favorite, of course, was the bakery area. I watched them make several desserts. My favorites were a Napolean and something chocolate called a piano, which looked like a small grand piano with keys and even a piano seat! I was told I could choose one for my dinner.

The final treat was a pouring of a small glass of a single malt whisky. I can't remember which one it was, but it didn't really matter since I loved - and still do - all single malts.

We were then finished with our cooking experience and returned to the shower/changing rooms.

Coming upstairs, we were now no longer cooks, but customers. We were shown to our table and given menus. We had been given a preview of the specials for the evening when we in the kitchen. As for the menu, it was not a stranger to us since we ate there before; though the menu did change somewhat with the seasons.

I'm not sure what we ate for dinner, but it was probably either a fillet, Chilean sea bass, or scallops. I usually had one of those when we went out. Lisa thinks she probably had lobster bisque soup and lamb. Those were her usual favorites.

But we do remember what we had for dessert of course. Lisa had a chocolate souffle. I had to make a choice so I went with the piano of course.

The final surprise of the evening was when they brought our desserts out, they brought out BOTH the Napolean and the chocolate piano for me, and an extra fork for Lisa!

Truly a memorable cooking and dining experience.

A New Way of Daily Reading

 I've been trying to come up with a more efficient way of reading my fiction than heretofore. I had been saving my fiction until the evening. That gave me the ability to read six nonfiction - two/day - in rotation during the day. But this meant that any lengthy fiction book would consume much of my evening reading. It came t head when I began to read Wilkie Collin's "A Woman in White", a tome of over 600 pages.

I have decided to do is this. I've reduced my day reading to five books; 3 nonfiction and two fiction. On Day 1 I will read NF Book#1 and F Book#1. On Day 2 I will read NF Book#2 and F Book#2. On Day 3 I will read NF Book#3 and return to F Book#1. On Day 4 I will read NF Book#1 and F Book#2. And so on.

Obviously, the key is not to get confused about the reading order. So after I have read for the day, I rearrange my daily currently reading bookstand that sits on my desk, with the books now showing what is to be read the next day on the righthand side of the stand - nearest the soldier standing guard over my treasures!

The advantage this will give me is that I can read a long fiction while still reading shorter ones. It does reduce my reading of nonfiction books, but I am going to attempt to replace that by reading one of nonfiction Easton Press or another living room book in the evenings when I read after dinner. 

A final part of this change to my current reading plan is whenever I get to between 50-100 pages from the end of any book, nonfiction or fiction, I will suspend that day's normal reading plan and concentrate on finishing that book. I've tried this a few times and find myself rewarded for the effort. What will determine when I make the "mad dash to the finish line" will be how difficult or how easy it was up to that point reading the book.

It all sounds likes a solid plan. We'll see how it works.

GoodReads

 I have an account with Goodreads with which I keep track of my reading. I also use it to list books in my library as well. I also follow several people who are much more avid readers, faster readers, and readers who can write better reviews of books they have read. I usually do not write reviews there because of intimidation; my writing just can't compare to theirs.

But I have decided to begin using GoodReads to write my reviews and forget about using my blog. I know that will limit me as to what I will write about, but at least I will be able to potentially get some feedback on my reading/reviews/writing.

I wrote my really first review this morning on GR about the last book I just finished.

It's about the Pan Am Seaplanes, called Clippers, and how the company tried to save all of them at the beginning of WW2 when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. The book is actually the story of one of them specifically, the Pacific Clipper.

During the war, these aircraft worked for/under the Army Air Transport Command. My father was in the Army Air Corps during the war and his Army unit was in the ATC. Though he didn't fly this type of airplane - he flew new and repaired B17's and B24's to Brazil and North Africa and returned with damaged ones - he did fly a very similar route from North America to Brazil to Africa. It was exciting to read about the Clipper's journey coming west.

Thanksgiving 2020

Thanksgiving 2020. We'll be home this year. In some ways, it's not much different from past years. For the past several years Lisa has often worked on Thanksgiving, or the day before and/or after which makes long trips difficult or impossible. All three daughters are distant. And they don't come here.

Because of COVID, this year Lisa is not working extra. She will have one client on Friday and another on Sunday. The one on Friday should be okay; the couple is spending it home away from their children and grandchildren. The Sunday client is a different situation.

Sunday's client is a man in his 90's, alone, but ten children and some grandchildren will be coming for holiday dinner. Fortunately, Lisa won't have to be there until Sunday, but still, that's a lot of people to have around him. She's not fond of going to his home after only three days, but there's not much she can do. I don't like it either.

Other than COVID, however, it is a rather normal turkey day. I began the day, as usual, taking my insulin, having coffee, and watching the news until it got light outside. Then I went for my walk.

I have tried to either run or walk on Thanksgiving morning since 1978. I began running in January of that year. I never ran in those "turkey trot" races; I just ran by myself. Once I stopped running and switched to walking I kept up the practice of going out every Thanksgiving Thursday. Even when my exercise routine was almost nonexistent. I exercised every Thanksgiving morning. No matter what the weather, I went out. Today was sunny and about 55 degrees. I have gone out in rainstorms, snowstorms, below zero weather. No matter what, I went out.

42 years so far. Not bad for a streak. 

Sledding in PA

 Remember a few days ago I promised to write about this?

Well, it's a Yankee Jumper. I don't know how popular they were everywhere, but growing up in SW Pennsylvania we all had them. They were cheap and easy to make. My father made one for me and then another for my brother. Our grandparents - Pop's parents - lived in the country about 30 minutes away, and every Sunday we'd go for dinner. In the winter when it had snowed, all of the cousins (about a dozen then) would meet on the top of the hill leading down the lane to their home and use our sleds or jumpers. 

Some Jumpers had a metal strip for a runner. I don't remember one, but it probably was there. It would be much harder to "ski" without it. I call it skiing because that is how you guided it and stopped it. You leaned to the right or left to guide it, all the while holding on to handles on the side of the seat. To stop it, you did what skiers did, turning the runner and leaning inward digging into the snow. 

Cheaper than a sled and faster too!

 

The Five Senses: Smell

 I have written about the senses before. I am sure I wrote about the internal argument I was having with myself about whether if I had to lose the sense of sight or hearing, which one would it be. I don't believe I never resolved it back then. Now? Well, you'll just have to wait because today I want to talk about another of the senses. That is the sense of smell.

In this day of COVID, the senses of taste and smell are very important. One early symptom is the loss of one or both. I remember reading somewhere that the sense of smell brings back a memory before any of the other senses. I can't prove it, but I believe it.

This morning it was a crisp 41 degrees outside and sunny. The smell of logs burning in a fireplace was in the air. I have lived in 14 different homes, but only two had fireplaces. Immediately, I thought of both of them. I could see them very clearly in my mind.

But the one smell above all that takes me back to a vivid memory is the smell of diesel on a cold morning. I am taken back in a second to a motor pool in West Germany during the late 1960s when I had a tank company. I could see the line of M60A1's as I walked the line and talked with the crews. (The photo below is one of M60A3's at Grafenwoehr, a training center we regularly visited.)

Some were working on the engines while others were doing track maintenance. We tried to schedule maintenance in the afternoon when it was warmer, but sometimes it was impossible and we had to work in the morning cold. I would have the mess sergeant ensure we had hot coffee in urns available for the men (I can't remember any soldier who didn't drink coffee back then, but I am sure there were a few). I really miss the Army when I remember those days.

Another smell is the aroma of Lipton's Noodle Soup, again in the cold of the morning. It takes me back to a particular street on Ft. Leavenworth post, in Kansas. I would run down that street in the early mornings on the weekends, someone would always be cooking the soup. You don't know how many times I almost stopped and asked for some!

BTW, If you go to my February 29, 2012 post, you will see how we kept warm back then!

A Final Selection

 A look back at my earlier posts this month (3rd, 12th) show I was deep into deciding what book to offer for discussion in 2021 for the B&B book club. I had worked down to three, then the list went back up to 15. So I began to work on it again. I even sent the list out to some friends asking for their suggestions. The book I finally came up with wasn't on the initial two lists but a late entry.

"Dreamers of the Day" by Mary Doria Russell is a story that begins in America during the 1918 Spanish Flu pandemic, but quickly moves to Egypt and the early 1920s. As typical with all of Russell's novels, it was very heavily researched, occupied with exciting characters - some real, some fictional, all amid very descriptive locations.

Mary Doria Russell is one of my very favorite authors. I have read four of her about nine novels. She wrote two about Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp which were very long and exciting. Her first book, The Sparrow, is sort of sci-fi, but very good. it's about a failed space mission to another planet to establish a colony which ultimately fails. The sole survivor is an Italian (or is he Spanish?) Jesuit priest. The story switched between the present where he is trying to tell what happened between being tortured by the Church, and the mission on the planet. As you can probably tell, I liked the book. She wrote a sequel but I haven't read it.

I hope by introducing Russell to the club that others will read her. She is one of the best fiction authors I have read. Oh, did I forget to mention that she has a Ph.D. in Biological Anthropology?

One last thing - I couldn't get my font to change back to the normal font so I just left it. The title was fine, but everything else is screwed up. We'll see next time.

Books, Books, Books

 It's raining cats and dogs and books in my study today. I am trying to get next year's books for the B&B assigned to months. I've sent the emails out; now just waiting to hear back. The first is taken care of because one of the members stepped up and volunteered to do two this year and I asked she would do the first one. She said yes. Takes a load off right there.

I've also been working on the new book club, The Mysterious Book Club for now, gathering members and an initial book list. Typical me, I've already changed my list twice. But it's not all my fault. A couple of people chose a book or two on my list. I figure I have more variety in my library than they do, so I just deleted from my list and went hunting again.

Back to the B&B club - I still haven't chosen my selection yet. Don't know whether to go with fiction or nonfiction. Maybe I'll select a fiction for this club that won't fit in the other. Thinking out loud now. 

In other news, COVID is continuing to be the pandemic the scientists and medical experts feared. The country will have 250,000 deaths in a few days. Still, not as deadly as the Spanish Flu of 1918, but then people have very short memories. And they don't like to study history. One of the things that we learned from the 1918 flu 1) wear a mask, 2) avoid crowds, and 3) wash your hands frequently. Sound familiar? People today believe it is their right to decide whether to wear a mask. Yes, until it affects others' health.

Sorry, I made a rule not to get into politics on this blog. But it is difficult at times. That's why I spend so little time on Facebook. I'll leave you with a picture today and talk about it next time.

A Mysterious Book Club

I'm starting a new book club. I've been thinking about this for quite some time. My current book club, Books & Brews, which I manage for the Lexington Library, covers basically everything but mysteries. Trying to choose my selection for this coming year I have two mysteries among the candidates. I would love to have them presented to the group, but I have some serious hesitations.

I have three other people so far: two from the B&B club who expressed an interesting one person from the Stonewall Jackson House (SJH) who loves Charles Todd as much as I do. Right now, I have sent out emails to three other people - all from the SJH - to see if I can a couple more. I only want about eight and I have four already.

It will be interesting to see what kind of mysteries will be chosen. I'll keep you posted.

Reading Matters (n.)

I've been off on my reading for the past couple of weeks. I am catching up slowly. You can see from the photo at the left what I am currently attempting. We'll see how it goes. The one fiction book, The Woman in White, is a longish read and will probably take another one to two months. That's okay because it is easy to stop at various points without losing the train of the story. The "book club" book is rather depressing; it's about the writer's mother and how she fighting, or rather living with, the cancer in her body. It does talk about books that they read. Or more precisely, books they have read in his youth.

On another reading front, we finished the year in our book club and are now selecting books and the monthly reading order. I haven't chosen my book yet; my list is down to 15 candidates. It was only 14 yesterday, but I passed one of bookcase and a book just called out to me, saying, "Add me, add me...', so I did. I sent out an email to the other members to help me choose and have heard back from a couple. Ultimately, though, I know I will have to decide. I set a deadline of November 30th.

Before we broke the meeting I brought up the idea of starting a mystery book club. I said that it did not necessarily have to meet monthly, but may every other; or possibly quarterly. So far I have three others who are interested. I would like to keep it smallish - say 6 to 8 members. We'll see.

 

A Borrowed Post

🙏    This post is actually borrowed from my brother and his blog (https://apercussionistsnotebook.blogspot.com/2020/11/an-unwanted-post.html). 

This week I received an email from a cousin informing me that her older brother, David, had died. I have been trying to think of what to write about it this week. My brother Jerry has already done it. I can't do better than what he has said. With heartfelt thanks to him, here it is:

I was planning to update my gourd rattle project today when I received a message from my brother this morning. One of our cousins passed away last night from Covid-19. 

During the summers Dave and 2 his sisters would stay at our house for 2 weeks. Afterward Pop would take us all back to Ohio and my brother and I would spend 2 weeks at their house. They were always fun times, raiding my aunt's garden eating all the veggies, looking for water moccasins near the creek (I don't think they live in Ohio but it was fun to look for them). Dave was the person who taught my brother and me how to ride a bike. His wife has also tested positive for the virus. It was inevitable that the pandemic would become personal.

May you rest in peace Dave.🙏

Election and Reading

 Today is finally here. We will be eating dinner - pizza and wine - in front of the TV tonight and will watch the returns as long as we can before finally going to sleep. Neither of us has anywhere to go tomorrow so no need to get early. And of course, there's the pandemic.

I've been spending most of my time this past week and a half attempting to choose a book for my book club that I will lead during one meeting. I began my hunt thinking I would need to choose two, but another person stepped forward and volunteered to do a second book this year. Her books are often a little out there, almost always about a foreign country, or at least an immigrant recent to this country. But I must say they are usually something I would not normally read.

I have it whittled down to three books - I think. The one in the lead is fiction - can I say science fiction - about Albert Einstein in 1905, the year he publishes his famous paper on time. He works in a Swiss post office and he has these dreams, 30 of them, one a night over a period of two and a half months. Each dream has time doing something different - speeding up, going slower, repeating itself, traveling back in time, and giving three different endings to things - just to name a few. I've read it before and enjoyed it. Maybe it will be this year's Flatland. The name of this book is Einstein's Dreams.

The second book is a novel about an older woman living in Seattle, or maybe Portland, who grew up in Russia during the siege of Leningrad in WW2. She was a young woman who was a guide in the famous museum (Hermitage?) giving tours. They had to take the pictures out of the frames for protection and store them. But the frames were hung back up on the walls and the guides were required to memorize everything about the pictures and give tours as if they were still hung. This story is juxtaposed against present-day Seattle where she lives and her granddaughter is getting married. This is complicated with the fact that the woman is suffering from early stages of Alzheimer's and has difficulty remembering things; but she can still remember vividly her tours of the WW2 museum, what she had to recite, and working as a plane spotter on top of the museum at night. Again, I've read it before. The title is The Madonnas of Leningrad.

The last book is a mystery from a series. It is my favorite mystery series and is about a Scotland Yard inspector who is a shell-shocked veteran of the Great War. He carries around with him in his mind, his Scots Sergeant who he had to kill for refusing a direct order. I won't go into the details here, but it a lot more interesting than how I am describing it. This particular story is actually a prequel, 14th in the series which currently stands as 22. Its title is A Fine Summer's Day, and as you might guess is just before the war in 1914. All of the others take place beginning in June 1919 and time-wise progress about 1-2 months each. I think we are at about 1921, but I forget which month. 

I'm half-heartedly thinking of also recommending a nonfiction book I read earlier this year. Written in 2012, Spillover is about viruses and how they spread. By taking and discussing several of last over the past 30 some years, the author gets us ready for the COVID by specifically identifying it. The book was written in 2012!

In addition to that, I am reading four books presently: The End of Your Life Book Club, a memoir; Good-Bye to All That, an autobiography by Robert Graves; On Conan Doyle, a small literary romp about Sir Arthur and his writings; and The Woman in White, a thriller mystery as they called them back then in 1860 when it was written by Wilie Collins. He also wrote The Moonstone in 1868 which I read last year. It was one of the best books I have ever read.

Oh, and I am still watching about two episodes of M*A*S*H daily. By next Monday  Colonel Potter arrives; except for whatever reason, the network, MeTV, is showing the episode where Henry Blake leaves and dies.

Now I have to read before I take a nap before I start to watch the election results. I'll talk about my doctor's visit to the sleep clinic yesterday at another time.

Harassing a Friend

I've been working with a friend of mine from our book club about choosing books for next year. In the meantime, I've been recommending several good mysteries to him. Below is a typical missive he has been bombarded with these past several days. I only hope our friendship outlasts my obsession!

Dave,

As I was working earlier in my study, I happened to look down at my mystery pile next to my desk. That's' where I keep my stack of mysteries to be read or re-read. On top of the pile was the second of a five-part series by Anne Perry. She's probably most famous for the 18th Century Detective Thomas Pitt mysteries (I've never read them - don't know why), but since WWI is my weakness, I read her series several years ago and now have already re-read the first one, Angels in the Gloom, again. The second, Shoulder the Sky, the title from the English poet A. E. Housman, is beckoning me to read once again. 

Angels is the story of a young man whose parents were just killed in an auto accident that turns out to be murder. While solving the murder, the son - Joseph, an Oxford teacher of religion - discovers a conspiracy that threatens national security. So while the murder is solved in the first book, the conspiracy connects all five books. The story is about his adventures during the war, and those of his younger brother Mathew and younger sister, Judith, while they all get involved in the war and in solving the conspiracy.

I don't know why I didn't recommend this series to you before. It's on a par with CT.

I'll write later about my two French mysteries. Still trying to decide on what to do about the 2021 book selections. You and I are the last ones. Barbara came through today, while Debi gave me a three-choice; she will choose from them and us know early in the coming year so we have plenty of time to get the book. She is scheduled for November. I also have let Vera choose which two months she wants since she is doing two books. (If we had chosen the 2-book CT deal, I would have scheduled them back-to-back as well.)

Anyhow, these emails help me even if they may be slightly bothersome to you. It beats talking to myself.

Stay safe 

Ron

As you can see, my friend has a lot patience.

Mind Wandering

The title represents what I have been doing this past week after Tuesday's book club meeting. Between settling down to choose my book for next year, thinking about posts for Facebook, to watching too much political theatre, I can't seem to settle on anything to read, post, or watch with regularity. I have decided on a stylistic photo to use when I don't have any for a particular post (remember, I told you that I don't like posts without a photo - sort of like a room without a window).

When I look at it I am reminded of the first Indiana Jones movie when he flies to Southeast Asia. It shows a drawing/photo of a Pacific Clipper Seaplane heading west over a map/globe. I am going to use this whenever I don't have any other specific pictures to use.

All this writing and I have not yet been able to settle on anything to write about. So it's lunchtime. I'll eat and get ready to venture out into COVID Land with my mask on for my annual eye doctor. 

Talk to you later. Stay safe. 😷

Book Choices for 2021 Book Club

Without any preamble, this is the list of books I have decided my selection (or selections) will be coming from for the coming year, along with notes to myself to help in my decision:

Fiction

A Very Long Engagement (find)

Regeneration

City of Thieves

A Gentleman in Moscow

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

The Wind in the Willows

The Secret Garden (library book)

Doomsday Book (library book)

Madonnas of Leningrad

The Indian Clerk

The Two Georges

Going After Cacciato (library book)

  

 

Non-Fiction

Spillover (500+ pages)

Killers of the Flower Moon (library book)

The Island of the Colorblind

The Death of Politics (decide after the election)

The Death of Truth (decide after the election)

Travels with Epicurus

Caesar's Last Breath

The Library Book

Inextinguishable Symphony

Shoe Dog (library book)

Movie Nights with the Reagans (library book)

Twin Tracks

The Pinball Effect

I will be discussing a few of these in the days to come to help me decide on my final selections - I'll choose two in case we need to cover the 11 months of book meetings. As of today, we have three submissions. I'll make my selections after I know everyone else has either submitted theirs or if someone has declined to submit one (we have two of these so far).

Re-Visiting Re-Reading

It's been quite a while since I have written on this topic. I have always been a re-reader. Most people I personally know are not. Most people I read about and the authors that I read are. I try very hard to explain to people why I enjoy re-reading a good book. By the way, this also fortifies my argument for keeping books after I read them. But I know I go overboard.

Yesterday I found something in a book I haven't read yet that best explains the habit of re-reading I've seen to this point. It is in a book by Michael Dirda.

He writes in his preface on page x, "Who, at any age, can read unmoved the last pages

of Tarzan of the Apes when the rightful Lord Greystoke, deliberating sacrificing his

own hope for happiness, quietly says, ' My mother was an ape...I never knew who my

father was.' In our hearts, we measure all the "better" and "greater" books of adult-

hood against such touchstones - and in later years we often return to the originals for

comfort and renewal."

Comfort and renewal. I guess that's how I feel when  I go a book I've read before and pick it up to begin again the story has to tell. One of my very favorites is actually non-fiction but is a series of essays about - what else but books. It's called, Ex Libris by Anne Fadiman. I have read it at least four times. Every time I enjoy it more. From combining her library with her husband's after only five years of marriage (to say nothing of six years before that of living together) to about what people write on flyleaves of books, the entire book is a treasure.

Now that I've pulled it down from the shelf, I just might read it again. At least about combining libraries.