I Wish It Were a Sunday

There are days when you wake up and it feels like a Monday and you think, "wow, it's Monday" (because you are brilliant). There are days when you try to be optimistic and small inconsequential things happen in sequence which push you over the ledge to having perhaps one too many glasses of reading water in the evening. On this given Monday, you may also have been described as "grumpy" by anyone really willing to get near you and be honest with you. As the day winds down, you find a moment of quiet reflection, you read your email, and discover that one of your favorite GBC members has sent you a link to a mobile which she thinks you will love, and you in fact, do. So, you shed a briny tear because you are an emotional creature, and you remember that Mondays pass.

Gallon of Milk, Loaf of Bread and a Stick of Butter

I have been in a list frame of mind the last few days: grocery list, to-do list, recipe lists and music playlists. Perhaps it is my subconscious attempt to create order in the chaos of post-holiday, gearing up for a busy month ahead, last pause before the week ahead at work. Nah, too deep, and who explores their subconscious during holiday season? That would be just crazy talk.

I have always liked lists and have a small collection of other people's lists rescued from grocery carts over the years. It is interesting to watch how a person thinks and observe the little nuances of their hand-writing. What type of paper was used? Pen or pencil? Cross off or check off? It is a good thing I did not study psychology or I might read too much into them.

Phone Home

Reading through Reading through The Restaurant at the End of the Universe has kept me entertained through the quiet haze of the morning after the holiday. It is approximately 40 degrees colder than two days ago and I am committing to a scarf for the end of year. (If only I could apply this same devotion to relationships.)

Bright skies, a good book, decorated trees, and acoustic carols in the kitchen at 2 a.m. have transitioned me gently to the holiday season.

You'd Better Thank

This year I am most thankful for my family and for my friends. You were extremely supportive, encouraging, and brutally honest through the last year. I am thankful for laughter and for the sound of water as it hits a concrete surface. I am thankful for music and for a clear sky at night. I am thankful for my palms which are proportional to my fingers (things a stranger will say to you unprompted for $500 Alex). I am thankful I am able to eat and that my home is heated.

So tomorrow as your mind drifts from one thought to another and from the family you are with to the family who is away, I hope you too will feel thankful and perhaps find a way to help another.

Tricks of the Trade

I have not been reading as much these last few weeks as in weeks prior. Plane reading turned to plane napping. Weekend reading has become weekend knitting. One chapter before turning off the light has been sacrificed for ten more minutes of sleep (okay twenty, if I count the next morning's "snooze"). November has been intense, and I already feel the crunch of year-end activities and (though I still think it is too early to acknowledge) the holidays.

I have a few unfinished titles which need a bit of attention and a scarf which is about 65% complete. My challenge for the next week is to make time to finish what I have started.

Just a Little More Time is All I'm Asking For

Greenery and lights in the office.

"Nutcracker Suite" at the gym.

Christmas candy on grocery end-cap aisles.

I am not ready.

T-5 until turkey. Then we can talk.

Fork It Over

My recent adventures have provided some culinary delights. Chicago is a city in which one can very happily eat. It is fitting that my reading has taken me to The Restaurant at the End of the Universe (continuing the trilogy/not a trilogy) by Douglas Adams.

My advice for the next week? Order something different from the menu. You might find that you really like Oxtail soup or that you can eat a fried soft-shell crab using chopsticks with a bit of grace.

Don't Turn Back

Always one for the odd and unusual, this book is worth its salt. [pause for bad pun]

Salted: A Manifesto on the World's Most Essential Mineral, with Recipes is available for the cook who has everything. Thanks to the generosity of a Williams Sonoma employee when I was buying my new coffee machine, I received samples of a variety of salts. I had thought "salt is salt" but oh how wrong I was! Black Truffle Sea Salt to finish a spinach salad with fresh mozzarella and tomato makes my heart sing. Hawaiian black salt, well, it makes everything groovy. [I shall stop here lest I continue keep the song to salt ratio even at one.]

I do recommend the book with the badly placed comma in its title and emphatically suggest you add a black, pink, red or at a very minimum, kosher sea salt to your culinary adventures.

One Kind of Folks

I am remiss in my reminder of the GBC read for November. To mark the 50th anniversary of the book, the group will discuss To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. (Rest assured there will be some discussion of Truman Capote.)

So, review your notes, pull your old copy from the shelves, take a moment to step back to the time when you first read the book, and get ready for discussion.

My name is Friday

It is Friday.

It is Friday two weeks before the shopping Friday that you do not yet want to think about because it means somehow this year has slipped by you and you are not exactly certain what you did with your life (France), your money (great boots), or your time (new job).

So, what are you to do?

Read.

Escape.

Support up and coming artists with their first books:

• Kristin Russell Recovering Ramona
• Sue Halford Hart Freeland Roberts: 100 years

Enjoy the weekend.

What's B&W and Re(a)d all Over?

Sunday morning, two lattes and the New York Times: a combination that I have not had in some while. In my former neighborhood, one could go unnoticed in pajamas to the nearby grocery to purchase the paper copy. Here, I was not yet that brave, so I settled for the online version (still in my pajamas). I have a methodical way (huge shock, right?) that I move through the paper.

Front page: Headlines, Editorial links

Style: Front page, Fashion & Style, Dining & Wine

Business: Technology, Markets, Economy, Energy

Travel: Nearly all of it and always the "36 hours in XX"

Technology: Startups, Reviews, any list

Science: Space, then Front Page & Environment

Arts: Theater, Books, then as many sections as I can move through

Health: Scan through the "Most Popular" to see if any grab my attention

If I am lucky, an hour goes by. The Book Reviews are nearly always saved for a fresh read. Guilty pleasures.

On Guard

When I stand in front of my bookshelves, I tend to always discover a book that I did not know I had. (This either means I have too many books or I have a really bad memory - let's not explore this question further.) Today's title which has now jumped in the reading queue: Gentlemen's Blood: A History of Dueling from Swords at Dawn to Pistols at Dusk. As I flipped through the pages, the phrase: "the saber never did go out of vogue" grabbed me. A writer of arms with a sense of style? Then I turned back to the book jacket to find the author, Barbara Holland.

Readers, we lost Barbara Holland in September at the age of 77. When you search for a few of her titles, you will discover she was a "defender of small vices," which includes martinis, naps, a cigar or two and swearing. I am wondering how I ended up with her book on dueling before "The Joy of Drinking" but I suspect this was a wise choice.

As you enter you week, indulge in a small vice or two...for Ms. Holland.

Side Effects May Include

The focus this weekend was rest. I had ample time to devote to reading but I discovered last night that books about zombies and some medications will combine for some pretty far out dreams.

So today, I knitted.

With a Twist

Most writers likely have one or two pieces stored away for their "rainy day" of publishing so that in the case of an unexpected event (ER visit, for example), they have fall-back material with which to post. I am not one of those writers.

There is also the possibility of a photograph to convey those 1000 words (or in my case roughly 300), but it would require a bit of effort on my part to muddle through the pictures to find my story. Today I am missing that required bit of energy.

So this morning, I give you a bit of reading which is like the Thursday soap opera episode. It has just enough content to keep the story moving until Friday but lacking anything of real action or substance.

Tune in next time for the plot twist.

Whole to Thirds

I will admit that I was in a sleep-deprived haze when I finished Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. I think I am probably the only person in the known and unknown universe(s) that did not realize this was a trilogy. When the novel ended with a trip to a restaurant, I thought*, "that's it?!" It was only today that I discovered the error of my ways. Perhaps it was euphoria of a weekend away or perhaps the resulting effects of sleep deprivation, but I laughed aloud several times through the book and each time I read "Ford Prefect" I always giggled. The remaining titles will be added to my reading list, but first, I have a few Zombies** (and Austen) with which to contend.

* Author's note: thought = said aloud = secured my appearance as a crazy lady on the plane

** Author's note 2: zombies = your reminder to rock the vote