See granddaughters of mine...I can get it right. Funny how things change, but I do love being taught by the kids of my kids. I thought I would take a mildly amusing photo of me bored to tears in the middle of the night, but no---I was just going to cough. Again.
I just finished writing a comment on a blog I read and comment on every day almost. Before my comment could be published, I had to prove I'm not a robot. This is OK---who wants robots touching their stuff? However, I would think that in this time of technological excellence, I could be identified and allowed to post after I'd proved myself non-robotic 30 or more times. Or 50. Or 365. And as you know by my Pollyannaness, this is not a derogatory remark to my friend.
She posts every day, posts of beauty, intelligence, insight and occasionally amusing rants. It's worth writing 66 2087466 many many times to actually interact with her, but please, gods of ether, fix this.
I've written before about my penchant for reading Young Adult Fiction. I think some of the most exciting story-telling is being produced in this genre, and although searching for books has given me some interesting age-related experiences, that hasn't stopped me. One of my most exciting reads in any book category was the Phillip Pullman series His Dark Materials, which, in its first book, The Golden Compass, has one of the most appealing first paragraphs ever. Who wouldn't want to read about a girl and her daemon?
Right now I'm almost at the end of the second book in the Legend series by Marie Lu. I can't say enough about my admiration for authors who not only have a compelling story, but build a complete world in which to set it. And yes, I know I haven't been talking about the actual writing, the tone-setting, the appropriate dialogue, the balance of characters and the literary value of these works, but that's a) secondary, for me, to the story and b) something I don't feel qualified to judge. I do like my literature, my historical fiction, my mysteries but sometimes it's just about a good story, and that explains why you might see my gray head bent over the YA table at your local bookstore or watch me not grimacing when the cashier tells me my grandchildren are going to love those books.
D (for Dave): You know we should really make an effort to be more careful about our eating---we don't seem to have any schedule or planning around our meals. L: mmmmmmmmmm D. I want to take equal responsibility for this---it's not about you, but I don't get enough vegetables. L: mmmmmmmmmm D: (at Milestone's) You know, we could make food like this---it's just the same food we usually eat, just more elaborate. L: (for the next 3 days, and only in her head) grrrrrrrrrrrr D: The dark chocolate Magnum mini-bars were on sale. The ones with the caramel. L. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
I am able to borrow e-books from my library, but because I have a lot of books-to-read in a pile in my room, and because I'm so short-memoried that I can go back and enjoy an e-book I bought last year but can't remember, I seldom think to look at what there is on offer at the library. I'm so glad I did last night. Actually, I was looking for an audio-book so that I could listen while I'm crocheting, but they changed the system, so while I could choose a book, and download it, I can't actually find it anywhere on my computer, so I went back to sign out and happily, I found a section called Hidden Gems. Happily, but not by choice, I have to add. I feel like I've lost my senses and my connection to the learning part of my brain after I've been poking around the internet world for a while.
The Gem I happened on had the combination of a beautiful illustration and an intriguing title, "The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane". It was late, and I was not at my sharpest, so when I saw the illustration I thought it was a space fantasy. "Have to read it," I said to myself, and before I knew it, the book was sitting among my Adobe digital editions and I had begun to read it from my laptop screen. That's not my favourite platform for reading, but I really felt compelled to get into this tale of minute aliens or giant aliens---whatever! This, as some sharper-eyed person might have known, was a book about a rabbit---a china rabbit with silk suits and his own pocket watch. I read till I had to stop, slept, had breakfast and reacquainted myself briefly with Dave, and came right back to the laptop, reading until I got to the last satisfying word. That was followed by information on the other books this author has written, which I've heard of but not read and which are to be found where all the books for 6 to 9 year olds are kept. Don't let that stop you. For me, it was like putting on my favourite, knitted-by-nanny sweater or eating a tiny, perfect strawberry. I came out of it with a list of people who need to be gifted with this little treasure. Thank you Ottawa Public Library.
Yesterday I sat down in my papasan in the bedroom, and I just felt such peace and happiness, I wanted Dave to take a photo of it.
It's hard to imagine that a ratty old chair and a bunch of pillows could be so comfortable, and so perfect a way to remind myself that I don't have to do the washing till tomorrow, and that there are still a couple of hours before I have to think about dinner.
That chair, which I notice I called "my" papasan is one of several rattan chairs that we have had over the years---one a mamasan and one a basket chair that we hung from the ceilingand several that lived outdoors.
This is one that got picked up from someone's lawn early one garbage morning sans pillow. We were moving and it was so easy to find the perfect place for it in our new place, which I think must be the apartment we're in now. I'm so grateful.
There are other things that make this a happy place for me. This is the shelf that I can snuggle up to, which holds calming blue things and always has room for a glass of wine and a snack.
And of course, there are these, in their hundreds, and my lovely Kobo Mini which is on its last legs, Alas!
Sometimes, when I wake up early, I stand in the window, looking out at the traffic. I don't have lace curtains---although I have had them---but it makes me think of all the stereotypical seniors with a comfy chair in the window and a cup of tea in hand. True to the image, I stand there watching and wondering what brings people out at 5 a.m.
People who leave their homes early are the people I counted on, without much thinking about their contribution, when I was working: the ones who drove the bus, who made or sold me coffee and cinnamon buns, who got the day care facility ready for my kids, who clocked me in at the office, who gave me receipts for my dry-cleaning, sat behind the counter at the gas bar, took the early doctor and dentist appointments for the kids, and generally made it easy for us to wake up at 6 (or at 7:30 if you were a kid) and zoom off to our schools and offices.
This is just about my most decadent still-in-the-house day in a long time. It's creeping up on noon and I'm still in my nightgown, the bed isn't made, the coffee and toast Dave brought in is finished, I've only got 3 real emails, none of my clothes from last night are hung up, and my glasses are so filmy I'm lucky I know how to touch type. Or, oza. ;ivlu zo lmpe jpe yp ypivj yu^r.
I have discovered a wonderful series available from Acorn online TV:
FOR MATURE AUDIENCES. Agatha Christie's masterful storytelling gets a dash of French flair in these sexy, witty mysteries. In 1930s France, Superintendent Larosire has a passion for beautiful women and solving cases, while hapless young inspector Lampion just tries to keep up. And in the mid-50s, ultra-suave Commissioner Laurence unravels the knottiest crimes. These French adaptations are a fresh, stylish twist on classic Christie tales. English subtitles.
I've been jumping around since I finished the seven seasons of Foyle's War---the reason I bought into it in the first place. I've watched Midsomer Murders,
Vera (which is very good),
Rosemary and Thyme (which is always set in beautiful gardens and just silly enough to make me miss the two amateur detectives when the episode is finished. And the two women drink copious amounts of wine between them and casually ogle beautiful young men). I'd always liked Cracker and have dabbled over there, but Cracker's not merry. When I'm feeling like only half-watching, I go for Marple, and I was totally, totally engaged with William and Mary.
I watched them for days on end when I had the flu.
I don't know what I'm going to do when I've gone through all the mysteries that are watchable. I'm holding off to watch this one until Dave and I can watch it together:
I do know I'm going to pass on Miss Fisher's series, even though the costumes and sets are smashing. I made the mistake of reading one of these mysteries on Kobo and wanted to see how it translated. Smashing costumes.
We don't get much I'm willing to watch on Netflix---anybody have suggestions on otherways to wile away the hours on a laptop?
Now here is an interesting development. If I'm not talking to anyone, and if the radio is not on, I can hear music that no one else can hear. Often it's 40s music, like Tommy Dorsey, but mostly it's chorale or opera. It's not unpleasant, and I gather it's tinnitus, which the Mayo Clinic people claim is acommon problem, affecting about 1 in 5 people. Tinnitus isn't a condition itself — it's a symptom of an underlying condition, such as age-related hearing loss, ear injury or a circulatory system disorder.
That's all very well, but I've listened to some of the best rock and roll ever recorded, some of the most amazing folk lyrics and some exciting and innovative indie music. My head chooses Tommy Dorsey to tell me I'm old?