Observations and such

 First, I finished Bird Box and can't wait to review it. Not today though. Still reading The Boston Girl (that may take as long as physical therapy lasts so a review may ten years from now.) And Naomi Klein's book which will be finished with The Boston Girl ten years from now. Not sure what number one book I will put my energy into next. 

Ramblings:

I miss book stores so much that I am ready to drive to B and N and watch people buy books. Seriously, it's on the menu for this week.  I can't stand this no shopping due to not-working-gig.

Back to shopping.

It's like women who like shoes or clothes, my mom, for example, she goes into a clothing store and not only takes all her time and energy into finding a perfect outfit, she tries it on, buttons every single buttons, plays with zippers for days,  sits down, stands up, walks away from the mirror, up to the mirror, twirls around and readjusts everything ninety times. Me? I pick it up off the rack hold it up to myself, say "yep" and buy it. I am not one to fuss with clothes.

Books? Mom loves books too and is a lovely companion to go to B and N with. But I am with books like she is with clothes. I read, I touch, I look the entire book over, flip through the pages, put it back, pick it up, stack it in my arms with the other books and sometimes I may even put it back again, rinse repeat. 

I have even got into my car to leave and turned my car on, off and went back in to buy that book I put back a few zillion times. 

Unrelated:

Funny how we approach storing our books. One friend will not buy one book. "My house is decluttered and I refuse to waste an ounce of space" (confirmed Kindle fan.) Another friend is a book hoarder like me but will give any of them away if asked for a good book to read. She grabs several books and hands it to you like it was half a bag of chips, "here, eat these, I don't want any more." In other words, keep the books, I will be hording more in the future. Lastly, one friend has four books. Four real books. Sitting on a shelf (well, lying down in a neat little pile) and they are very important to him. I am not sure if he will ever read them, If he does I will be surprised. 

And other unrelated things: 

 

Some bathe with books (oh so not me) and some will go to the beach with suntan oil on their hands and get it all over the cover and pages. The smell of the coconut oil sort of makes that one okay, besides there is nothing like a paperback smelling like the beach. One gal I know eats lunch over her books and leaves food tracings, which is found decades later. A strand of lettuce stuck between her books for months is permanent. Enough that I have considered using it as a glue or caulking. I know, I have borrowed from the lunch eater a whole bunch of times.

See that pic? That's a tiny square of books in my room. The Rook was very good, I may have to re-read it to review it, but it's good, trust me. I was surprised (very) that it was not made into a movie. It's located in the YA section if you are interested.

I hope you have a luxurious weekend, the sun is out and it's Spring! 

Read on!

Books that save us/ The Solace of Open Spaces by Gretel Erhlich

I have had a lot of complicated illnesses in my life but the last surgery was a bit terrifying. I had a transplant (kidney-pancreas) in 2000 after three years on dialysis. In 2009, HUP discovered cancer in my "native" kidney. (They don't take out your kidneys when you have a transplant.) The surgeon decided to remove both native kidneys. Eight hour surgery then weeks waiting for results, it came back positive for Renal Cell Carcinoma. But by the grace of God it was encapsulated inside the kidney. 

No chemo no radiation nor further surgeries.

I still worry about it every day.

 

One day post op they sent a social worker to my home to have a chat, a catch up, on how I was feeling. I was stoic, I rambled on about everything but the "cancer." The SW finally looked at me and said, you know, you had cancer, you ARE a survivor, it's perfectly alright to be upset. 

I never felt like a "survivor" I felt more like I dodged the very-bad-things-in life bullet only to worry that I would be hit at some future date as my immunosuppressants were "probably" the cause. "I will worry about that later" kind of mentality took hold when I was diagnosed post op. I have life to live! I have a child to raise! A nursing career!! A thousand and one books to read!!

I also needed to escape, (she taught me imagery too but that's a blog for another day) and needed to then face the reality of life. Merge the two for better living.

 

The SW told me about this lovely book. The Solace of Open Spaces by Gretel Ehrlich. Now, just be forewarned,  people either love her books or hates them. Now, I think Erhlich is a beautiful writer but sometimes you feel as adrift as she does. Which is the whole reason why I was recommended to read this book. Beautiful thoughts and wanting to escape our prisons of illnesses or constraints do not coincide very well inside a thoughtful soul. She was the perfect writer for me. She took her past, merged it with her escape. Found answers. Merged.

Others may read this differently but it was a perfect book for me.

From Publishers Weekly on Barnes and Noble: 

  Like many before her, poet Gretel Ehrlich discovered the therapeutic qualities of the West. In 1976, a time of personal crisis, she moved from the East to a small farm in Wyoming where she ultimately found peace of mind and inspiration. Originally, she had gone west to make a film for PBS; she returned to work with neighbors at cattle- and sheep-ranching, taking pleasure in open spaces. Ehrlich writes with sensitivity and affection about people, the seasons and the landscape. Whether she is enjoying solitude or companionship, her writing evokes the romance and timelessness of the West. 

Every reader stumbles upon a book that makes sense to them. They take that book and the author's life/voice/narrative and gently soaks it into their own chaos. It stabilizes. It breathes a bit of life back into you. I would be interested to hear what book has "saved" you when the whole world felt like a prison.

And. I wish you well.

Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty

I think I gushed a bit too hard on this one but I couldn't help it. It was good. It was damn good. Every so often a book comes around and just hits me with this feeling of, I can't miss ONE word, it's just that good. Big Little Lies was one of those books. I read it fast and furious and took in every word as if my life depended on it. 

I really don't mean to hype it up. 

And I hate to do that. Hate it. 

I. Can't. Help. It.

Here's the book description from Amazon: 

Sometimes it’s the little lies that turn out to be the most lethal. . . .
A murder… . . . a tragic accident… . . . or just parents behaving badly?
What’s indisputable is that someone is dead.  
But who did what?
 
Big Little Lies follows three women, each at a crossroads:
Madeline is a force to be reckoned with. She’s funny and biting, passionate, she remembers everything and forgives no one. Her ex-husband and his yogi new wife have moved into her beloved beachside community, and their daughter is in the same kindergarten class as Madeline’s youngest (how is this possible?). And to top it all off, Madeline’s teenage daughter seems to be choosing Madeline’s ex-husband over her. (How. Is. This. Possible?).

Celeste is the kind of beautiful woman who makes the world stop and stare. While she may seem a bit flustered at times, who wouldn’t be, with those rambunctious twin boys? Now that the boys are starting school, Celeste and her husband look set to become the king and queen of the school parent body. But royalty often comes at a price, and Celeste is grappling with how much more she is willing to pay.
New to town, single mom Jane is so young that another mother mistakes her for the nanny. Jane is sad beyond her years and harbors secret doubts about her son. But why? While Madeline and Celeste soon take Jane under their wing, none of them realizes how the arrival of Jane and her inscrutable little boy will affect them all.
 
Big Little Lies is a brilliant take on ex-husbands and second wives, mothers and daughters, schoolyard scandal, and the dangerous little lies we tell ourselves just to survive.

I don't even need to review it. The description is enough but my take?

It made me laugh out loud, it made me sniffle (a lot) in one part and it made me feel as if I had known these characters all my life and really hated to see the book end. 

I hated to say good-bye to them. (Thank God they are making it into a movie!)

Characters are rich and though one would imagine superficial, they are not. They are real and all of us know one or more of these types of characters in our own lives. We may be like one of them.

Plot, oh dear, nothing like a mystery where you do not find out about the murder until the end. I love (strong emphasis on the LOVE) when an author can weave a story that builds up to the murder where the reader has no clue until the very end.  And to have those wonderful peripheral characters giving their point of view in tiny capsules at the beginning and the end of chapters to throw red herrings or to humorously, viciously explain other people's behavior, according to them is hilarious. 

Setting, how can you go wrong with Australia? You can't. Enough said, make your travel plans now.

Looking back I felt excited about this book which hasn't happened very often in my book lifetime. And that is why we love to read right? To find that one book that just tickles every single one of your favorite book senses. 

Buy it, own it, never let anyone borrow it. 

But you will be a better friend after reading this, so go ahead and let your friends (only) borrow it..

Read it again.

Easter Sunday, my first Bible

Happy Easter! 

We decided to stay home and chill out before a long week of paperwork, appointments, and entertaining my daughter who is off for Spring Break. 

That Bible shown in the photo was given to my by my aunt, my mom's sister. I used to marvel over my aunt's discipline and love for her church. She, among other family members, rooted me into the fabric of faith. I've traveled through many religions and wrapped up my journey with a plain love and faith in God and Jesus. Easy. 

Okay we won't go there, faith and a relationship with God can be anything but easy. 

But that's not for here. 

My aunt gave me a children's Bible and it still means more to me than any book I own. My first reading was about Adam and Eve, then the Christmas story,  lastly, Revelations. I wanted to know the ending even if  I had to piece together some wild symbolism and metaphors. 

The beginning, the middle and the end. 

My love for reading grew larger from that first moment flipping through this rich book, my first Bible while I sat at Gan's table, with her and my aunt beaming with joy over this very solemn but interesting book they passed on. 

I search through all my books. I want to know why people do what they do, why things are as they are and what are those hidden messages. In all genre reading., I want to know. 

I'm curious as a detective. 

I have faith as a child. 

I contemplate as a thinker. 

I think we are all that way, people who love books. And it's a grand thing. 

Enjoy your holiday! 

P.S. To my Mother~ you may not have given me my first Bible but you taught me forgiveness, discipline and being kind to others. You are a faithful marathon runner. 

Thank you and I love you.