Friday, January 31, 2025

First lines: January 2025 edition

Einstein keeps watch at the Jersey shore.


Below are the first lines of the books I finished reading in January, this month that has lasted 27 months already.  A lot of this was tough reading for me.  I engaged in skimming.  And had one DNF because it was just too difficult.


One memoir, two fantasies (unusual for me, and both also count as children’s lit), two mysteries, one classic, one which read as sort of poetry, and one nonfiction on sexism.

 

 

Book 1

Early on, I could see.

 

 

Book 2

An Unexpected Party

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.

 

 

Book 3

Our troubles began in the summer of 1914, the year I turned thirty-five.  The Archduke of Austria had just been assassinated, the Mexicans were revolting, and absolutely nothing was happening at our house, which explains why all three of us were riding to Paterson on the most trivial of errands.

 

 

Book 4

Up the stairs they raced, taking them two at a time, trying to be as quiet as possible.  Gamache struggled to keep his breathing steady, as though he was sitting at home, as though he had not a care in the world.


 

Book 5

You don’t know about me, without you have read a book by the name of “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,” but that ain’t no matter.

 

 

Book 6

A Brief Introduction to the World of Aerwiar

The old stories tell that when the first person woke up on the first morning in the world where this tale takes place, he yawned, stretched, and said to the first thing he saw, “Well, here we are.” 



Book 7

Blessing for Waking

“And what I say to you I say to all:  Keep awake.” – Mark 13:37


This blessing could

pound on your door

in the middle of 

the night.


This blessing could

bang on your window,

could tap dance

in your hall,

could set a dog loose

in your room.



Book 8

The Problem That Has No Name

The problem lay buried, unspoken, for many years in the minds of American women.  It was a strange stirring, a sense of dissatisfaction, a yearning that women suffered in the middle of the twentieth century in the United States.  



Did not finish

On a bright, humid evening in early August 2019, ten Honduran migrants met to pray in the basement of a Mexican housing complex called Solidarity 2000.




 

The titles and authors revealed:

 

 

Book 1

Vision: a Memoir of Blindness and Justice, by

David S. Tatel

352 pages • first pub 2024.  

I found this a fascinating memoir.  Painful to read the final chapters because of, well, everything that is now happening.

 

 

Book 2

The Hobbit: or There and Back Again (The Lord of the Rings #0)

By J.R.R. Tolkien

365 pages • first pub 1937 


Maybe I just don’t like fantasy.  This is yet another book that everyone raves about, and it is called classic.  I tolerated it.  I was much more charmed by it the first time I read it.  This time it just seems to be a lot of tromping through dark places with little food.  The lack of women characters is disturbing to me.  (I have the same assessment of the first part of the bona fide LOTR books, of which I only read a few chapters.)  


I am not sure what this book says about the human condition but maybe I’m just being dense.  If you love this book, please enlighten me.  


I read it for book club, and felt a wee bit more favorable towards it after our discussion.  Book club folks said it is partly an analogy for the first World War, which makes sense.  And it does have a good examination of greed, and the meaning of “burglar.”

 

 

Book 3

Girl Waits with Gun (Kopp Sisters #1)

By Amy Stewart

408 pages • first pub 2015.  Based on a real person.


I really liked this mystery.  Just the right balance of peril vs ridiculousness.  Loved the characters.  I hope I can read more in this series.  Is this the only book I have read that takes place in New Jersey?  Yes, it was set in rural Northern New Jersey, and there was ( and maybe still is) such a thing.  I spent a small portion of my life in Southern New Jersey, because that’s where my mother was from.

 

South Jersey's claim to fame

 

Book 4

Bury Your Dead (A Chief Inspector Gamache Mystery #6)

By Louise Penny

371 pages • first pub 2010.


According to my kindle, this book was 511 pages.  And seemed like it.  There were three story lines, including a revisiting of the mystery in the previous book in the series.  I enjoyed the mystery of the books & historical dead bodies, including some amusing spots.  But the story line about the terrorists was too fraught for me, although I thought it was told well.  I liked all the characters (which can be sad when the killer is revealed and it’s someone I liked) and the descriptions of cold and snow, but two mysteries would have been enough for me. 

 

 

Book 5

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Adventures of Tom and Huck #2)

By Mark Twain

327 pages • first pub 1884


I was re-reading this in advance of reading "James" by Percival Everett.  Twain is a master at portraying Huck Finn's "voice".  I found the first part highly engaging, as Huck and Jim make their way down the river.  I tired of it sometime after the Duke and the Dauphin showed up.  So after their second caper, I just skimmed it.  The consistent use of the n* word was difficult to see past.

 

 

Book 6

On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness (The Wingfeather Saga #1)

Andrew Peterson

290 pages • first pub 2008.  Children’s (middle grade) lit.


The writing style is quirky fun, but I quickly tired of it.  Silly footnotes, similar to a Terry Pratchett book.  Clever, perhaps, but I wasn’t in the mood for that.  I did finish it, because I quite liked the child characters. But I did not read the footnotes.   I thought the disability of one character was thoughtfully portrayed.


 

Book 7

Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons

By Jan L. Richardson

180 pages • first pub 2015


Just what I needed.


An excerpt from the introduction:

A blessing will not fix us.  It will not, of itself, resolve the difficulty we are in or undo harm we have caused or received.  Instead, a blessing is a channel of the Divine, a profound means of grace that has the capacity to open our eyes so that we might recognize and receive the help of the One who created us in love and whose deepest desire for us is that we be whole.

….

A blessing speaks from God’s mysterious heart into our own heart, meeting us in our ache for connection and presence.

Rather than being an indicator or measure of God’s favor, a true blessing most often meets us in the place of our greatest need, desperation, pain, or lack.


And here is one of the blessings, one that is challenging for me.



Book 8 

The Feminine Mystique

By Betty Friedan 

562 pages • first pub 1963


Often dated, but at times gives a description of today’s America, point-blank.  Brutally honest and correct in some instances.  Terribly wrong in at least one instance.  I skimmed and skipped parts of it, and yet it still took me 2½ months to get through it.  But I respect this book: I can only imagine that when it was published it was a society-changer.


I put a lengthier review on storygraph.  

 


Did not finish

Everyone Who Is Gone Is Here: The United States, Central America, and the Making of a Crisis

By Jonathan Blitzer. 534 pages • first pub 2024

nonfiction history politics

This is a timely topic, for sure, but the events were too fraught for me right now.  Graphic description of torture.



I hope you are finding some pleasant reading material!  I will be purposefully seeking out some lighter reads in February, although book club selections might make that tough.


Rough seas ahead


Sunday, January 26, 2025

Four good things

 It’s been a horrible week.  I don’t believe in just tossing it off and saying everything will be fine all the time.  I can’t pay attention to all of it, but I intend to remain aware of reality in at least some arenas.  


However.  Right now, in a desperate attempt to save my sanity I am going to list some good things about the past week.  


1. We unfroze the frozen water pipes in the kitchen.  No burst pipes.  


2. Yesterday it was finally warm enough to do one outside task: I got my car washed.

While the modern car wash itself is the moderately terrifying inside task of sitting in the car surrounded by soap and large brushes coming at you, it is mainly an outside task because of the vacuuming of the car interior. 


I found a nickel as I was vacuuming.  Thomas Jefferson’s image is on the nickel.  We know his story.  What is Tom thinking right now?




3.  Celtic folk music.  

While looking for a recording of "The Canticle of the Turning," possibly the hymn most defiant to the patriarchy (based on this scripture), I found this:

Siskin Green: Will Your Anchor Hold?  A recasting of a stodgy old hymn.


One of my children sent me some videos by this vocalist.  The video is weird, but I love when she sings “We’ll all go together.”


4.  I returned my two physical library books.

Our public library is undergoing a renovation so we went inside to look around.  In the children’s section they have an axolotl!  For some reason that makes me happy.  Also this week I did a deep dive into some blog posts about books.  (That said, most of the books I am reading right now are not terribly optimistic.)



New England just completely
broke away from the
United States of Cookie.  Apt.


Saturday, January 25, 2025

We made it through a vortex

Thank you, Valiant But Tiny Hair Dryer.


It’s been quite a week, even besides all the national fuckery.


Friday a week ago, I was upset about the weather forecast. 

Me:  Is it going to snow tonight?  And when is the polar vortex coming?!

Common Household Husband:  [burps loudly].  That was it.  That was the polar vortex.


If only it were that simple. 


Sunday the CHH pulled something out of his sweatshirt pocket, and said, “I wonder why I have this in my pocket?”  It was a tiny glass duck.  Reminds me of the time I cleaned out my purse and found a small plastic dinosaur, left over from mom-of-small-children times.  The CHH put the duck back into his pocket.


Wednesday morning I discovered that our hot water pipe at the kitchen sink was frozen.  It's been years since this happened.  We used to have to drip the faucet if the weather got cold, but then we fixed it, by encasing that pipe in lots of insulation and closing up the area behind a drywall panel in the garage ceiling.  Since then we haven't dripped the faucet in cold weather, and the pipe has not frozen.


But this week’s polar vortex hell-freezing-over cold was too much for it.  And the cold water pipe froze too, at the kitchen sink faucet.    


It was COLD.  “How cold was it?”  It was around -12 F overnight (without the wind chill) and wasn’t much warmer during the day.  Hell has, in fact, frozen over, and all its inhabitants resurfaced this week in the nation’s capital.


The Common Household Husband cut his work day short to come home. We set to work in the 10-degree-F cold garage.  He unscrewed all six screws and removed the panel.  This took a while because we are not Michelangelo and we’re not used to working at the ceiling level.  

unscrewing drywall panel in ceiling



He pulled out the thick insulation, and pushed our Valiant But Tiny Hair Dryer up in there.   It died after about a minute.  I felt the universe telling me, “You’re gonna need a bigger hair dryer.”


Not a great place for a hair dryer


I was on hair dryer resurrection duty.  First I went upstairs to vainly look for another hair dryer.

Back to the basement.  I coaxed VBT Hair Dryer to life.  It ran for a few more minutes, enough to get one of the water pipes flowing!  Yes! 

Success!


Then to get the other water pipe freed, we had to go to the other side of the wall, in the basement.  At least there is no panel there.  VBT Hair Dryer quit twice more, but I resurrected it each time.  

Sticking the hair dryer WAY into the wall.

Although he was victorious against the polar vortex, the CHH was covered in drywall dust, and got some in his lungs (not good!), which periodically set him coughing.  He put his sweatshirt in the washing machine.  Later, in the dryer, I found the tiny glass duck that he had had in his pocket.


The duck survived.  I am trying to decide if that is a portent.

Resilient duck.



Saturday, January 18, 2025

End of Season

Folks, I present to you one of the few things that I made with my hot glue gun – our felt menorah (or more accurately, our hanukkiah made out of felt).  I think it was the one good idea I got from a parenting magazine.  

All lit up (in a felt craft sort of way)
 for the last night of Hanukkah.


I am guessing it is about 20 years old.   Making things with the hot glue gun usually made me say, #$&#$*!, so it’s a good thing it has lasted. I'm not making another one.


One of the best features of this hanukkiah is the self-storage aspect.  The candles and flames are stored right in the item itself.   

Now you see 'em (just below the dowel rod)

and now you don't.



This week I finally got around to taking this down and storing it in the bin with all the sweaters I don’t wear any more.  I’d like to say it’s the last decoration to be put away, but ’round about April I usually find one last Christmas or Hanukkah thing.


All rolled up and ready to store.
Einstein shown for scale.


That is all.  Gearing up for a difficult week ahead, both climatologically and eschatologically. It feels kind of like it will be the end of the world as we know it, for several reasons. It won't be, but it will feel like it.


And now this painting by my aunt is
back in its place, for whatever awaits us next.