Hallo

Hoping your Halloween not bland
and that costumes are nothing but grand
And if travel you do,
hope all on time too
and music is only the good bands.

Husky Finish

Four flights later, I've finished The Boys in the Boat.  I cannot recall the last time I felt such suspense and thought "what will happen" to a story to which I already knew the ending.  Hailing from modest beginnings, I rooted for the guys from UW like brothers and more than once, I found myself using a Delta cocktail napkin to guide away an errant tear.  I was proud to be wearing purple at the finish.

This evening, I can't quite find the words to give a proper review but it's the kind of book that will give you heart on a discouraging day and cause you to want to read all the reference notes at the end.

Well done, Mr. Brown.

To Live Crew

My current book in progress is The Boys in the Boat: Nine Americans and Their Epic Quest for Gold at the 1936 Olympics by Daniel James Brown.  This title was a recommendation from a running friend last March.  I took a photo of the cover so I'd remember to re-visit and I'm finally working my way to reading it.

The book is fantastic.  I'm a little over the half-way mark and I'm completely absorbed with the characters and the small details about boats and rowing.  [I'm also enamored that the writer will make an appearance at The Whidbey Island Writers Conference.  I love that island.]  During my undergraduate degree, one of my fellow engineers was a coxswain.  At the time, I was not impressed but I have a tremendous amount of respect for her now that I have a little more insight into what she was doing.  

I'd recommend this book as an addition to your winter reading lists. It will inspire you.

On My Way to a Hotel in California

If a picture contains two words, is it still worth a thousand?

Grafiti, Somewhere between Carlsbad & Encinitas
October 2014

Hope your Friday is Super Awesome.

Monday to Sunday

I've been a bit off schedule this week with heavier than normal demands. [Work hours that rhyme with Katy, for $100, Alex.]  This morning, in my horizontal reading of news and email before coffee, I was happily surprised to read this NPR headline which made the rounds this week: 'As You Wish': Take A Peek At The Making Of 'The Princess Bride'.

As You Wish by Cary Elwes made its hardcover release on the 14th and this is a title I'll definitely need in book form.  It will take a slight re-arranging to get it to sit beside my anniversary edition of The Princess Bride but I'm always game for a challenge.

I've already shared that I'm fond of the book, but I honestly cannot count the number of times I've seen the movie or listened to Mark Knopfler's original score.  I'd put both in a Top 10 category.

Hope your weekend was restful, that you didn't need to use Bonetti's Defense, and that if you were scheduled to marry someone who didn't hold your heart, a pirate, a Giant and a dueling Spaniard came to your rescue.

Sundays to Mondays

Sundays and suitcases and selections for Kindle.

Coffee and cakes and watching time dwindle.

Ode to a Samsonite

Samsonite
2006-2014

Dear Samsonite red bag of courage,

You've been my trusty companion for nearly nine years of travel.  We've been through countless cities, you've helped me increase my checklist to 47 states, we've hit four continents, and you survived my most expensive airline ticket ever for the around the world trek.  (Sadly, our book didn't make it due to that unfortunate seat incident that involved Airline attendant extraction.)

You were wheeled through parking lots, security cues, gravel roads, snow, and puddles without complaint.  You were satisfactory for an overnight adventure but capable enough for a two week carry-on to Australia.  You lost zipper handles and had one unused pocket in the back (that had to be a design flaw).  Still you were with me.  You were my footrest for overnight sleeping in LGA and cat naps in DCA.  You handled the weight of my backpack tirelessly and somehow we made it through those tight little metal cylinders on the Chicago CTA.

You were content with repeat journeys and were alongside me for the  new ones which required fearlessness.  Even when stranded in Solvang, we found a way to make friends.  You weren't mocking when we arrived to an important meeting without suit pants (though clearly there was plenty of room to pack them).  You helped me build arm strength up and down stairs, lifting into overheads and carrying you over things that I couldn't wheel through.

You were unique, never to be confused with various plane-checked luggage and easy to spot on those few times you rested in the hold and had to be retrieved from a carousel.  You fit in every trunk or backseat.  You were never a burden, even when technology rapidly advanced to lighter weights and the wheels got a little loud at the end.

My relationship with you lasted longer than any I've had with a man.

I was a bit sad not to use you on yesterday's flight.

Thank you for memorable journeys and for keeping me safe.
LD

Sister Love

Last night at dinner a friend mentioned that she liked to read.  I said, "So do I!" (perhaps a little too nerdly emphatic) and we launched into a conversation about recently read books:  thrillers, biographies, sports training, and Scandinavian authors.  She mentioned she gets a lot of suggestions from her sister and of course, so do I.

This morning, my sister is on my mind and I'd like to give a special nod of appreciation to the older sisters who teach us, the younger sisters who sometimes act like big sisters, and the middle sis who always seems just so practical.  Special thanks for sharing all those books.

Bike-ause I Can

The great thing about being head of household is that one can decide that riding a bike on an October 75 degree day has more intrinsic value than mowing one's lawn.  Today was my first solo (non-racing ride) since I can remember (and possibly ever).  It took a fair amount of gumption to get out there on a course where obstacles weren't controlled by volunteers and I had a few observations:

• leisurely riding is fun
• kids on bikes are wildcards
• kids on BMX bikes are greater wildcards
• leaves, while pretty, can be slippery 
• have good posture; you might see your spin teacher
• beware of rocket scientists - they build items of mobile transport that look like a combination of a skateboard, bike, unicycle with wide turning radii
• it's a friendly town and people want to say hi.  Use ventriloquist-like skills to do this without opening your mouth.  Leisure riding on nice trails = bugs (and lots of people who want to say hi)
• have the best best posture ever because you might pass your yoga teacher (shoulder blades down)
• dogs on a taut leash > dogs on a loose leash

Above all, give up chores for outdoor play.  

National Poetry Day

October the 2nd, wouldn't you know it?
The day of course to celebrate a poet.
Rhymes, meters even haiku,
Ever memorize a poem or two?

In celebration of such a day
Our little GBC writer did play.
Casting a few lines here and there
Post reading water without a care.

Carving out October

Yesterday's Opinion piece by Paul Krugman in the NYT suggested that we don't read as much poetry as we used to do.  I am then breaking the trend as I find myself reading (and even writing*) a bit more these days.

In the art of public service, I offer the opening from "November for Beginners"  by Rita Dove.  You can find the piece in its entirety at poetryfoundation.org.

Snow would be the easy
way out—that softening
sky like a sigh of relief
at finally being allowed
to yield. No dice.
We stack twigs for burning
in glistening patches
but the rain won’t give.

*This author wrote two to three poems a day for a period of at least two years.  Several of them even rhymed.

Lost Cups and Old Cookies

This morning's NPR news noted a variety of statistics about the upcoming holidays, shipping days, shopping days, and general rushing the end of the year before we even adjust that beloved hour back on our clocks.  I appreciate the view forward, but I'm still trying to find the measuring cups I packed six weeks ago.  [I found cookies with my knitting if that tells you anything about the spatial way my mind works...perhaps it does actually..just forget I mentioned it.]

We'll also just skip how listening to Arcade Fire's new album reminded me of a series of movies watched this weekend which led me to a bookstore which led to a list which led back to knitting which led to:  I Want My Hat Back by Jon Klassen.  There's also the follow-up This is Not My Hat (2013 Caldecott Medal Winner).  Either of these might make good reads for the young ones for that end of year list that I should be making (right after I find the measuring cups).

The Final Frontier

Because Saturdays are really for:

    Sleeping in [down comforter]
    Space Interviews  [Chris Hadfield via The Guardian]
    Singing [Space Oddity by Chris Hadfield via David Bowie]
    Starbucks [triple venti]

and six weeks later moving finally unpacking the 23 boxes that somehow are supposed to fit in your galley kitchen so you can make your first proper meal which doesn't use [oven + a screwdriver].

Happy Saturday folks.  Hope you've got your ground control.

Allegro Presto

There are days when you are tired and if you dared admit it, a little bit sad, and you push yourself to make it through a small mountain of paper which has adhered itself to your desk.  Perhaps on those days especially, you take a little extra time to check on members of your team and in the fifteen minutes or so you spend with a couple of women, you hear two of the most heart-breaking stories you think you've ever heard.  You encourage but know you will need to search out something beautiful with which to end your day.

For those evenings, I recommend Chris Thile playing Bach on mandolin. (Bach is a personal favorite, and Thile happens to think the piano is one of the greatest instruments in the world so he's a man after my heart.)  His performance is amazing.    

Drood Night

I started The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens on the plane but did not make much progress.

Conclusion:  this probably isn't the novel to begin after a high-stress three days with intense sleep deprivation.

Next up on the GBC list:  The Price of Justice by Lawrence Learner. 

"Out of Darkness Comes Light"

While on the West Coast, I saw a sign which said "Jerusalem" which was just enough to get this song (with the same title) playing as background music in my head the last two weeks.  [If you like reggae, trust me, it's catchy.]  I had not watched the video until tonight but many of the scenes reminded me of my trip there a few years back.  [It even jogged my memory to the little note I left in the wailing wall during my visit.]  

No surprise then to be drawn to this Guardian review for the Observer Food Monthly Awards best cookbook for 2013.  There's an entire section on hummus.  

I'll let you guess the title.

Unclouded Judgement

      you could see white or you could see blue
      pay attention to shadows or delicate hue
      passing art to be found in the sky
      here for a moment before drifting by

Clouds II, South Bend, IN
September 2013

I'm taking advantage of a small burst of productivity and adrenaline rush after completing a big project. Hope your Friday is off to a great (but perhaps not as early) start.

Lumineers to Luminaries

Congratulations Ms. Eleanor Catton!  She and her book, The Luminaries, received the 2013 Man Booker Prize yesterday.  I'm sure this title has been added to holiday wish lists around the globe.

Interesting note:  the (848 page, 2.6 pound) book's 12 sections were of decreasing length by about half the pages each section.

Don't Fret About It

I once dated a musician who wouldn't let me touch his guitar.*  He had a Gibson Hummingbird of a vintage year and was quite sentimental about it.  [It was the same guitar that Emmylou plays.]  Since I am a pianist, my genteel fingertips and resulting strums did not have the magic to land me in No Depression but I was allowed a few supervised forays into the world of Girls with Guitars.**

With music on the brain fresh from last night's live performance, this NYT article by Larry Richter grabbed my attention like a capo: Roll Over, Stradivarius: ‘Inventing the American Guitar’ Explores 1840s Innovations.  Martin's been making guitars since 1833.

   * Not a euphemism.
** Playing a guitar and the harmonica in a holder is way harder than it looks, particularly if you are trying to look cool.  [ See also: Flashbacks if you ever wore headgear for braces.]

PS  J, when it was clear that things weren't going to work out, I jammed on your guitar while you were out...a lot.

Sur Enough

This week's little trek included a stop at the Henry Miller library in Big Sur.  I've been enamored with Ping Pong, An Art and Literary Journal of the Henry Miller Library.  I have the 2011 edition and find myself revisiting poetry from Brian Henry and Erica Lewis.  There's something extremely soothing in verse and rhythm.