Rocking the Boat

Ship of Gold in the Deep Blue Sea.  This book was another that fell into the "I know how it ends, but I'm completely enrapt" category.  Gary Kinder does a fantastic job of bringing the California gold rush to life with the recounting of the SS Central America which sank off the East Coast in 1857.  My inner engineer has a mad crush on Tommy Thompson, a young man in the 1980s who set out to do a number of things no one had ever done before, including working in the deep ocean and using novel methods to find a hundred thirty year old wooden boat resting under 8,000 feet of water.

Now, sitting in the airport with a quick search to check a date, I've learned that the story is not quite over as Mr. Thompson has disappeared.  Considered a fugitive, he hasn't been seen for over two years.  Here's a link to the Columbus Monthly for this story.

I hope that all parties can still find a happy ending.

Have a Ball

May your weekend be shiny and bright!

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

O'Hare International Airport
November 2014

Musings

The phrase on repeat in my head is that sometimes you have to let something go in order to pick something else up.  The door opening and closing as some say.

I've been reading quite a bit more but writing a bit less here.  Instead, I've found myself penning postcards like mad with a bit of poetry sprinkled like a Southern seasoning here and there in pinches or handfuls, depending on the day.

I'm grateful this week for stamps, safe journeys, family visits, books, and songs that still make you pause, standing still in a public place.

Rainy Days and Sundays

It was a cold, rainy Sunday.  After another week of travel, this weather was perfect for tea drinking, napping, reading and/or watching movies.  Hope you stayed warm and a had a great weekend.

As a reminder, our next book up for discussion is The Newspaper Boy by Chervis Isom.  

Now You Sea Me

I'm working my way to the end of Seabiscuit and will be a little sad to let him go.  It's been an interesting look at the sport and to continue put a bit more context around the 1930s.  My next read will bring me a little closer to the present day with Ship of Gold in the Deep Blue Sea by Gary Kinder.  This was a title suggested recently by a colleague after talking about The Boys in the Boat.  The lead character is an engineer. And there's buried treasure.  Sounds like a fun combination.

Turnaround...

Nostalgia sometimes rolls in like the first dark evening after the time change.  Despite the fact that you had felt it coming for weeks, it still catches you off guard the first time you leave work and it's there.

Today I ran with headphones outdoors for the first time in years.  The city has a fairly strict "no headphones" rule so I've learned to run in the rhythm of footfalls, nature, and mind chatter.  My route was a path surrounded by trees with changing, falling leaves, near a small creek.  It was a mostly yellow rain.

With the musical accompaniment, I remembered the first time I ran for twenty minutes non-stop; I had been on a similar trail.  I could recall when every song was added to the iPod (and to which playlist) and I got a little verklempt at Five for Fighting.  (Don't judge).

I ran by the semi-circle turnaround for the half marathon (which was held earlier this morning) remembering the only time I ran the race was alongside one of the best work friends I've ever had.  At that mile marker, we sang Bonnie Tyler and made airplane arms. I remembered our last runs, his relentless cheering at my first triathlon  swim, and the Monday morning I spoke to his wife when she told me he was gone.

Today I let myself run into the feelings and not away.  On my way back, a gentleman commented on four strangers side by side for one brief moment on the trail.  Someone said "serendipity" and we all kept moving forward, each in our way.

Horsing Around

Sticking with the same era, I've moved to Seabiscuit:  An America Legend by Laura Hillenbrand.  With apologies to both horses, trainers and the state of Kentucky, I've realized that prior to this book, I had confused some of the accomplishments of Secretariat with Seabiscuit.  (As you may have guessed, other than the Triple Crown races, I have not had a lot of exposure to racing.)  It's fun to read another novel from the same time period with historical context but the sport hasn't pulled me in like crew.  Tom Smith, the trainer, has been my favorite character.  His style reminds me a bit of Ulbrickson (UW coach) as shared by Daniel James Brown.  Men of few words, skilled in their crafts, nontraditional and a little grumpy.  I'm looking forward to the final races of the book.

Grateful

This is the weekend I tend to take a moment to reflect on the 2013 reasons to be thankful. Over the last week however the singular thought was "gratitude".

This year I felt there was a big distinction.

Maybe it is the normal byproduct of aging, maybe it is the last minute vacation trip turned memorial, maybe it was holding a small child who gave implicit trust, or simple appreciation that I won't tolerate crazy in my daily life.  My core list includes a gratitude that I'm not afraid to take risks and that I love to read.

You have your list too, and I hope you had a moment this weekend to celebrate good fortune (and good books).

We're List-ening

If you are looking for downloads, library lends or through your friends' dog-eared copies for your next read, join the GBC with our upcoming list.  Thankfully I'm one ahead thanks to Ms. Patchett.

• December: Favorite poem or excerpt from a favorite book or story to share
• January: The Paris Wife by Paula McLain
• February: The Magician's Assistant by Ann Patchett
• March: We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler (the Nashville Citywide read selection!)
• April: The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
• May: Your choice of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen or Death Comes to Pemberly by P.D. James
• June: The Reason I Jump by Naoki Higashida (translated by KA Yoshida and David Mitchell)

I'd also recommend This Book is Full of Spiders by David Wong though perhaps not while moving into a place that was previously vacant and that has, well, a few spiders.

November Snow

The Sunday night call with unexpected news.  On a week focused on giving thanks, there will be a little sadness.  Life's circle.  Taken from the poetryfoundation, this one is for Maggie.

A Chair in Snow
BY JANE HIRSHFIELD

A chair in snow
should be
like any other object whited
& rounded

and yet a chair in snow is always sad

more than a bed
more than a hat or house
a chair is shaped for just one thing

to hold
a soul its quick and few bendable
hours

perhaps a king

not to hold snow
not to hold flowers

All about Location

I managed to complete all the items on my Saturday to-do list, including the nap.  One of them I accomplished a little too well, but that's for another day.  As a Sunday bonus, I can now extol the virtues of a freshly juiced drink of apple, kale, and spinach with a shot of wheatgrass*.

A friend also shared a fun book:  The Architecture of Happiness by Alain de Botton.  I flipped through a few pages and was read an except about Villa Savoye.  [Aside:  one of life's little pleasures is having someone read to you.]  Based on these little intros, I've added it to my list.  

Hope your Monday gets off to a fine start.

*Filed under things:  
1) I can't believe I actually ordered; 2) I can't believe I actually liked; 3) I ordered while wearing yoga pants thus fulfilling the Whole Foods Sunday stereotype; 4) cures for Sunday ailments from Saturday birthday parties or 5) all of the above

To Do do do, De da, da, da

Saturday goals:

* Long workout (already in the books)
* Copious coffee consumption (in hand)
* Bring music back (in your hands, Apple Genius)
* Finish a book and start a new one (hello hardback and Kindle)
* Take a drive (and sing!)
* Eat, drink and be merry (probably the easiest one)
* Be grateful (always)

If I'm lucky, I will snag a nap, but I don't want to be greedy.

Somme Like it Cold

It's a 24 foot panorama as a book!  And while it could be just the endorphins wandering their course after my longest run since June (in 42 degree weather sans gloves), I'm just amazed (and a tiny bit cold).

The Great War by Joe Sacco was published this month and tells (visually) the story of the battle of the Somme. I cannot imagine the effort that went into this piece, but through photos, it is magnificent (and it's now on my wish list).

What's that? You eight.

Now that the temps have dropped below freezing periodically I might finally stay in and finish This Book is Full of  Spiders.  

I'm sure my dreams will thank me.

"The Greatest Ideas are the Simplest"

Author's note:  This is a long espresso-driven vignette with a book tie-in at the end.  

Saturday was a cool, crisp autumn day with a few yellow and orange leaves hanging on.  It was a perfect day for a hike so a friend and I decided to tackle a path which has been described as "The Grand Canyon of the South".  I've met a few people who had recently done the walk, and it was billed to be an approximately six hour hike with ~3.5 miles each way and an elevation change of 1,000 feet.  Totally doable and a perfectly peaceful way to begin the weekend.  

The first tip that this hike might not be the idealistic zen journey I had pictured was in the gravel parking lot.  Boy Scout Troops #Y was in the house. (We'll preserve their identity as minors.)  We also noticed pretty early that we were the only pair in (layered) running gear.  (This would later turn out to be an advantage.)  The journey down included a few switchbacks and we passed several couples and families who were taking it easy, but predominately the only sound was the crunch of leaf underfoot and the odd leaf blowing (tayin') in the wind.  Nice.

As we neared the 2.5 mile mark, voices were heard nearby.  Yelling , laughing, and the typical noises of youth rising so we suspected we were nearing a campground with the Troops.  As we approached the last narrow trek to the crevasse, the cacophony rose to a peak and we could see the Troops assembling in a little brown line spackled with various arm badges.  It was time for a split second call:  run to get ahead of these 40 boys or follow them to the end of the track (~half mile or so).  It seems an easy call, right?

So we ran and I sprinted over rocks with my best impression of a gazelle.  We were at the front of the pack headed toward the Walls.  In just a few short minutes, this decision was soon realized to be a gross error.  Underestimating the ferocity of youth and the sugar high that comes from too many energy bars for breakfast, they were quickly on our tail and the next 20 minutes was spent climbing over rocks in a single line formation with such varied topics at my shoulder to include these remarks:

• Coach's nicknames was Sunshine when he was in [redacted].
•    No it wasn't. Yes it was. [repeat 10 times.]
• The sun does not rotate. Gravity and time are not related.
• We're going to start a business selling souvenirs from [current site]. Who wants to run it? Call it! [insert long, drawn-out reverse countdown by a breaking voice here]

Luckily the area at the end of the trail was wide, so any adult not in the company of a 10-12 year old khaki or green pants kid took a break on the rocks until they soaked up nature and left.  

Quiet.  

The sound of babbling brooks and aging bones climbing rock.  This was the trip I expected.

The journey back began in this same tone with the sound of falling water to accompany the initial walk.  I even didn't mind getting passed by an oldie.  It was peaceful.

We trekked by the boy scout camp and it seemed they were starting to assemble lunch and/or napping.  The coast was clear for the rest of the journey.  The transition to upward descent is marked by crossing a creek with a "bridge" made from half a tree.  It was at this point we saw the group on the other side.  The scouts!  Apparently there had been two groups, and these were the 20 or so that were hiking out together (in red shirts).  We'd learned our lesson and slowly walked behind them.  Easy enough...slow pace and fairly quiet since we were behind the adult leaders.

After ten minutes or so, they noticed our presence and halted the Troop so we could pass.  [Um, thanks.] We made our way to the head of the line with the kids following.  Did I mention they had six foot poles to assist their climb?  Did I mention they were still running and despite the uphill climb one particular child still had the vocal capacities to continually proclaim he wanted to be first?  Their presence just behind me and the sound that their bamboo poles made when striking rock as they were hiking left me thinking of only one book....Lord of the Flies.  

I could barely keep my speed up the hill for laughing (and being slightly afraid).  Luckily, the troop leaders needed frequently breaks so we were able to pull ahead with my heart nicely in tact.  Despite the extended lunch stop and photo shoots, we made the round trip in four hours.

Hope your weekend has a fun book reference (sans drumming)!

African Queen

I have had Katharine Hepburn at the front of my mind this evening.  It began with my late evening task of selecting a suitable reading water for my frozen entree.  (Monday at its finest.)

She has a host of memorable quotes from her Me:  The Stories of My Life.  I'm opting for this one for my Monday:

“Life can be wildly tragic at times, and I've had my share. But whatever happens to you, you have to keep a slightly comic attitude. In the final analysis, you have got not to forget to laugh.”
― Katharine Hepburn

A close second:

“If you obey all of the rules, you miss all of the fun.”
- Katharine Hepburn

For Everything There is a Season

This morning's run through the woods had me thinking about nature (and on my decision to have Half Ironman finishers as running partners during my recovery...but that's for another day).  The trees were shades of Golden Delicious, hints of Gala and pops of Red Delicious.  The morning was crisp and the air smelled like autumn.  Near the end of the run however, I got a stark reminder that all beautiful things have an ending when I encountered a dead doe on the edge of the trail.

Lou Reed's obituary by his wife, Laurie Anderson, was simple and lovely. She makes reference to nature, trees and movement in the wind.  I'm including the link to the Sydney Herald print because the accompanying photos are lovely captures of the couple.

Table for Sixteen

“I like large parties, they're so intimate. 

At small parties, there isn't any privacy"

F. Scott Fitzgerald

This is one of the few Friday photos which isn't my own but it's a great nod to the recent GBC meeting for The Great Gatsby and quite delightful for a Friday.  I wish I could have been able to join.  Hope your weekend is stellar and full of good reads.

Photo Credit:  Michael Emrick
The Mad Platter Restaurant, Nashville, TN
October 2012

"The World is Ahead"

I remember the cover of my first The Hobbit book.  I think I purchased it from one of those magazines at school where you could buy three books for a few dollars and everyone's books delivered on the same day like one gigantic bookworm Christmas in the spring.  I'm pretty sure I still have my copy but one of the downsides of sorting your bookcase loosely by genre, book type, and height is that you really can't lay your hands on a book quickly when you want to write about it in the few moments you have before departing for the office.  There is a chance it's with my sister.  She liked The Hobbit too.

Today the Peter Jackson film premieres in New Zealand, and I'm pretty sure this will be on my viewing list.

The Truth is Out There

The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens would make a fascinating book for GBC discussion.  The novel has been attempted to be finished by various persons at least three times and is currently the feature of a musical at Studio 54, Drood.  The novel was intended to be completed in 12 installments however only six were published, leaving the disappearance of Edwin Drood to remain a mystery.  Wiki has a pretty thorough entry but I'd suggest holding out to read the story and draw your own conclusions