Resolutions: 2019

I have a thing about making New Year’s resolutions, and I have for maybe 20 years or so now. I really like them. I usually make three (that’s not a firm rule, but I’ve found it’s a good number to manage) and I usually keep them. (Not always. More to come on that.)

Resolutions for 2019:

Resolution 1: I’m keeping a gratitude journal. I decided to do this in late November, and got so excited about the idea that I started early (December 19). I’ve missed a couple of days, but given it’s been over a month now, that’s not too bad! The birds in my backyard figure highly in my gratitude, as do my friends, the sun (at least in winter), and books.

Resolution 2: Postcard Projects. I’m lumping all my postcard projects in one resolution. I have three postcard projects for 2019—my daily haiku postcard (that I’ve been doing since 2013—I can hardly believe that!); a weekly postcard to my niece (I started this last year and it’s been so fun, and we’ve gotten to know each other so much better, that I’m happy to continue it); and a weekly postcard to my brother (I started this in the fall of last year, and he’s been responding by text, and that’s been a lot of fun). No political postcard projects this year. I’ve found the family postcard projects much more rewarding.

Resolution 3: May Baskets. I don’t believe I made this resolution last year, because I was so sure I would just do it and didn’t need to resolve. But then we had that god-awful April blizzard and I just couldn’t do May Baskets because it still felt like winter. So, May Baskets go back on the resolution list, because it’s a thing I really like to do. It has introduced a small bit of playfulness in the neighborhood.

Resolution 4: This is also a postcard project, but so different, it is its own resolution. This is my big resolution for the year. The idea is this: I send out a lot of postcards every year, and to do this, I have collected large quantities of postcards. Lots of the boxes I get contain (which I miswrote complain) duplicates. And some postcards I’ve had for years never seem to fit anything—a haiku, a missive, a greeting—but perhaps they would be the perfect card for someone else. My postcards are crowding me out, and thus is born the Community Postcard Project, or, more simply, little free postcards.

Here it is in a nutshell: I cull cards out of my postcard collection and stamp them and bring them to local businesses to leave out for customers. I am completely excited about the idea. Why? Perhaps you think I’m nuts. Here’s my logic:

(1) People who get something free or unexpected—even change in a phone booth (yes, old research), are more likely to do something nice for someone they run into (e.g., buy them coffee, hold a door open) than those who didn’t. (2) Stamped mail is much more likely to be mailed than unstamped mail. People hate wasting stamps. I know this is true for me. So I stamp all the postcards I put out there. If someone grabs a postcard at a coffee shop because it catches their eye, my logic goes like this (hypothetically, of course):

The customer walks out of the shop feeling good because in addition to her usual experience, she has a free stamped postcard that she thinks is quite beautiful. Should I send it to my cousin? At the bus stop she notices a woman struggling with a stroller, and helps. The customer gets home, and decides to send the postcard to her mother instead. Her mother is thrilled (they talk on the phone a lot, but she doesn’t get much personal mail).

 Hmm. Maybe the next time I go to the coffee shop, they’ll have more free postcards, and I’ll send this one to my cousin.

Happy customers return, and recommend others (well, unless they want to keep the postcard thing to themselves).

While I get rid of postcards I don’t want, others get a beautiful/fun thing free. With luck, at least 50% of those people send the stamped postcards to someone, who might be particularly thrilled to get personal mail (as I always am) and do something nice for someone else. I can’t speculate far beyond that, but I think there is a fairly high happiness quotient in this stamped postcard project from many perspectives.

Sure, eventually I’ll run out of postcards and stamps. But think of all the happiness. Think of all the potential connections.

And maybe it will catch on. Maybe when I run out of steam the businesses and their customers will carry on. Maybe even before I lose steam (let’s not forget the best-case scenario).

Why? Why am I doing this crazy thing? Well, first off, postcard stamps are pretty cheap. It only costs $7 to send 20 postcards. And just thinking of 20 people happy to get fun postcards (I forgot to mention earlier the satisfaction one gets from filling out and mailing personal mail—it’s a wonderful thing; almost as good as getting personal mail), that in itself is a good reward.

But also, it could catch on, and that’s my hope. Little free postcard boxes everywhere. Who doesn’t have postcards sitting around their house? This is my long-term dream goal.

It could happen. You never know.

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Rollout: 2019 Monthly Book Themes

Last month my friend Sheila and I set aside a special day to identify our monthly book themes for 2019. This is always a fun afternoon that we both look forward to, and this time was no different. Without further ado, here are the monthly reading themes for 2019:

January: Questions. This includes any book that has a title that’s a question, has a question mark, contains any of the usual question words (who, what, where, when, how, why), or is questionable. Fun titles from poetry include Held for Questioning, Second Guesses, and Ask. Since this theme is right around the corner, I already have a small stack of potentials. I’m most excited about Prius or Pickup? by Marc Hetherington and Jonathan Weiler (looking at the political divide). Sheila and I are reading this one together, and I think it will make for good discussion.

Other books I’m excited about in January include Where We Stand: Class Matters, by bell hooks; and What Matters? Economics for a Renewed Commonwealth, by Wendell Berry. Starting the new year with a Wendell Berry book seems like a really good idea. In the fiction realm, I was pleased to see that the next Louise Penny mystery that I’m up to fits the theme: How the Light Gets In. That will be my first fiction of the year. And I think it will be followed by How to Find Love in a Bookshop, by Veronica Henry (called “a love letter to books and the shops that sell them”—that seems like another very good start to the year).

February: Love & Death. The book can have either word in the title to qualify, but I have one top runner already, with Simone St. James’s An Inquiry into Love and Death. That just leapt off my shelves. I haven’t done any looking ahead for this theme. I wonder which will be more plentiful—love or death?

March: Geography. This one is really broad, such that common geography words like city, country, town, in a title would work; as well as proper nouns: Minnesota, Africa, Alberta. The books will be falling off the shelves for this theme. I only have two books in mind so far: The Rain in Portugal, by Billy Collins; and The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning, by Margareta Magnusson, which Sheila and I have talked about maybe reading together. (Although now that I think about it, Death Cleaning could also fit into February, if we’re in a hurry (or there is a dearth of nonfiction in that theme). It will be a perfect February-March bridge book!

April: Men. This is also a very broad theme, and I expect it to be loads of fun. It encompasses books with any common male reference (men, boy, he, brother, etc.) in the title as well as books with proper male names. On my nearby shelf I find, for example, My Father’s Paradise: A Son’s Search for His Family’s Past, by Ariel Sabar; White Men: American Masculinity at the End of an Era, by Michael Kimmel; The One-in-a-Million Boy, by Monica Wood; and The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper, by Phaedra Patrick. That only skims the very surface. This will be another theme where the books fall into my hands.

May: Black & Blue. Yes, that sounds a little macabre, but we were throwing around individual colors as themes. A black theme? A blue theme? Will there be enough books with the specific colors? So we decided to combine them. Why not black and blue in May? I don’t have much in mind for this one yet, though there is a new (to me) mystery writer I want to check out, and she has two books which fit the theme: Black Water Rising (which is the first in a series set in Texas); and Bluebird, Bluebird, a stand alone—both by Attica Locke.

June: Size. Another one I’m looking forward to, it includes any reference to size: small, medium, large, giant, huge, etc. in the title. One book has jumped off the shelf for this one: The Little Giant of Aberdeen County, by Tiffany Baker. This could be the month to read Little, Big, by John Crowley (daunting in size but I’ve heard such good things). In nonfiction, I’m looking forward to Sleeping Giant: The Untapped Economic and Political Power of America’s New Working Class, by Tamara Draut.

July: Water. Titles including the word water, also lake, river, puddle, rain, ocean, bay, etc. I think this will be so easy I won’t even start looking for titles until the end of June. The one book I do have in mind is Daughters of the Lake, by Wendy Webb (a local author I’m quite fond of).

August: Women. This is the same as the April theme of men, but this time for women. The nearby shelf provides: The Alice Network, by Kate Quinn; The Girl with All the Gifts, by M.R. Carey; and Eve, by Elissa Elliott. This is a repeat theme from last year (we obviously both loved it).

September: Literary Forms. This is also a repeat theme, but from a few years ago. For this theme, the title should contain a literary form (e.g., book, letter, chapter, play, poem, verse, handbook, memoir, diary, etc.). I don’t have anything on tap for this yet, but I have so many books with the word “book” in the title that I’m covered right there. (Not that I would ever care to be that samey.)

October: Pronouns. Basically any title containing a pronoun (he, she, they, we, I, us, etc.). There will be tons of these. On tap so far: I am, I am, I am, by Maggie O’Farrell; and Republican Like Me, by Ken Stern. I’m sure books will start falling off the shelf months before October arrives.

November: Taste. Any title with a flavor/taste in it—e.g., sweet, sour, bitter, salty; but also to taste food, so any title with sip, sample, bite, savor. It’s a kind of fun heady mix, and I think it will be a great reading theme for November. I have one book on my radar so far: Umami, by Laia Jufresa. Plenty of time to grow this list!

December: Prize Winners. These are books that have won any sort of prize—Pulitzer, National Book Award, Orange, Hugo, any old award at all will do. This is also a repeat. I don’t have anything in mind for this yet but I’m sure a few good books will make themselves known by next December.

Happy New Year a little early, and I wish you many good books in the new year.

One Thing Leads to Another

Yesterday I didn’t get much on my to-do list done, but a series of events led me down some fun memory lanes. It all started with my decision to put a few tree ornaments on the small tree growing too close to the garage, but it’s so beautiful I couldn’t bear to pull it up when it was little, and every year I told myself I should and now it’s taller than me, and still I love this tree.

So I went to look through my tree ornaments which I haven’t touched for years (I don’t do a tree but that’s a different story), and I found several that seemed they would work on an outdoor tree (though none of the garden variety shiny red balls that I was hoping for—just one or two; it’s a small tree, after all).

At the bottom of one of the boxes of ornaments, I found a book I got from my aunt when I was in 2nd grade, A Christmas Story, by Mary Chalmers. It’s a very small book—a gift book, maybe 3×4 inches. I remember being shocked at getting what I considered a picture book in 2nd grade. I was quite insulted. It was a kid’s book! I’m pretty sure I didn’t say any of these things out loud.

Here’s the thing I didn’t get at the time: The main character is named Elizabeth (which just happens to be my name), and she is a little girl (hmmm, possibly 2nd grade or so?) who has to find a star for the Christmas tree she has just decorated with her friends, Harry Dog, Alice Rabbit, and Hilary Cat. I will not ruin the story by telling you how it ends. I treasured the book more and more over the years, and used to take it out every Christmas. But I moved and traditions changed, and it got packed away. But now that I’ve found it, it’s back on display for the season.

Also while looking for ornaments, I found a large bunch of Christmas cards from the early 2000s. Thinking this would be an easy dispatch and free up space in the box, I grabbed a large stack to go through. Another trip down memory lane. Pictures of friends with their little kids (who are now adults); cards and letters from graduate school friends; cards from former coworkers and former former coworkers. I haven’t finished going through them all. So many of my parents’ generation of relatives are dead, but they were not dead in the early 2000s, and it’s nice to be running into them again. I’m keeping more of these cards than I’d thought I would, because I figure if I enjoy going through them now (not all of them—some are being repurposed as postcards, and most are getting recycled) I’ll enjoy it every bit as much 10 years from now.

Some of these cards were from the same aunt (who also happened to be my favorite aunt and my godmother) who gave me The Christmas Story. She died four years ago, and I still miss her. I’m keeping all the cards from her that include significant personal notes. And all of this made me remember the ceramic Christmas tree that she made, and gave to my mom, and my mom gave to me many years later. I decided this was the year to put up the tree again. I knew exactly where it was, and on a whim decided to get it out right that minute. But it wasn’t where I was sure it was. It wasn’t in that closet at all, which caused pause. Where could it be? I sat down to read for awhile to let my brain relax and remember. And then I remembered exactly where in the basement it was. But no. And no and no and no.

And then I remembered the closet under the stairwell. It would be right up front. It was not. Sigh. What’s that box back there? Old books (shocking). Surely not that one way in the back—I reached, I tipped—ceramic tree! I tugged it out of the box (which did not want to come out from under the stairwell), and brought it into the kitchen to plug it in. But, what? No plug, no switch. I knew it lit up; that’s why I liked it so much. Did I miss something in the box?

I did indeed miss something in the box, and it was a big something that didn’t want to come out. So I hauled the box out over the top of all the other things in front of it, and a huge pile of photographs cascaded to the closet floor. Of course.

It’s a cramped closet so I pile up the photos and stick them on the shelf outside the closet. I get out the box and the bottom portion of the ceramic tree, plug it in, and it works! While it wasn’t really like my aunt was with me, it was in a little way.

And then I grabbed a bunch of photographs off the top of the pile, and took another trip down memory lane. They were nearly all from road trips I’ve taken around Minnesota with a good friend of mine. I thought the photos would be easy to cull, but my friend is such a good photographer, and he has such a good eye for mood, that I find I’m keeping far more than I’m tossing. And I have realized that there are so many good memories here, while I will do some culling, I want to organize rather than get rid of these photos. Already categories are emerging: quirky town monuments (we have a lot of these in Minnesota—Paul Bunyan, loons, Jolly Green Giant, chicken, walleyes—this could be its own post, and maybe will); nature shots; bird shots in particular; town names (often on water towers); various kinds of signs (road signs, billboards, street signs); and that was just a handful off the top. This could be a hugely fun project.

So the little tree outside is decorated, The Christmas Story is on top of the bookshelf, the ceramic tree casts its light again, I’ve more Christmas cards from years past to look through (and mostly recycle), and an entire photograph organizing project ahead of me.

Life is good. Happy December.

Going Rogue (Bookishly) for Black History Month

A funny thing happened as I was finishing up the “Love” chapter of Krista Tippett’s book, Becoming Wise: An Inquiry into the Mystery and Art of Living. Somewhere after reading longish passages from her conversations with Elizabeth Alexander (African American poet) and finishing the chapter, I decided I needed to read more black and African American literature. I decided to prioritize all the black writers in my theme pile for February.

Guess what? Not a one. Well, boo. January was great with African American writers I didn’t get to. So I decided to go rogue and push the book theme to the side (not completely) and focus on black writers in February, partly because it’s Black History Month, but mostly because I really want to do it. Sometimes I get a little too wed to the book themes. I have books I’ve wanted to read for quite some time now, but I let the themes drive my reading. (I do have control over this, there are no rules. I do have control. Really I do.)

So sometime between my second and third cup of coffee this morning, I decided to read (mostly) black/African American books in February. I was excited before I even got up from my chair. Perusing my shelves (reminder: I tend to use the book themes to read and potentially pare down the huge excess of books I have accumulated over the years), I found nonfiction quite fruitful:

  • The Light of the World, Elizabeth Alexander
  • The End of Blackness, Debra J. Dickerson
  • Bad Feminist, Roxanne Gay
  • Wounds of Passion, bell hooks (plus a few of her other books that I haven’t read yet)
  • You Can’t Touch My Hair, Phoebe Robinson
  • Hidden Figures, Margot Lee Shetterly
  • Ordinary Light, Tracy K. Smith
  • Living By the Word, Alice Walker
  • Men We Reaped, Jesmyn Ward

Not so very gender balanced, I will admit. But note, I still haven’t gone through memoirs or foodish books. Still, a very exciting list of prospects for the month. I expect I’ll start with You Can’t Touch My Hair, immediately followed by Hidden Figures (which I bought shortly after seeing the movie).

I’m adding another book to the nonfiction mix for February, not specific to Black History Month, but relevant nonetheless: A Good Time for the Truth: Race in Minnesota (edited by Sun Yung Shin). Not all the writers are black, but several are, and it’s here in Minnesota. This is what I need to hear. To learn. To understand.

I haven’t finished going through all the general fiction yet, but I’ve been a bit surprised at the sparsity:

  • Americanah, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
  • Zanzele, J. Nozipo Maraire
  • Sula, Toni Morrison
  • The Intuitionist, Colson Whitehead
  • Wench, Dolen Perkins-Valdez

I might go to the “already read” shelves and pull a few favorites. Mama Day (Gloria Naylor) comes to mind. Then  Sassafrass, Cypress and Indigo (Ntozake Shange). And The Color Purple (Alice Walker).

I also found a few mysteries (picked up back in the day when I was reading a lot more mysteries):

  • A Little Yellow Dog, Walter Mosley
  • Hidden in Plain View, Blair S. Walker
  • Easier to Kill, Valerie Wilson Wesley
  • Killer Riches, Chassie West

And a few science fiction/fantasy books (mostly purchased at WisCon, the annual feminist science fiction convention held in Madison, WI):

  • Clay’s Ark, Octavia Butler
  • Parable of the Talents, Octavia Butler
  • Redwood and Wildfire, Andrea Hairston
  • The Killing Moon, N.K. Jemisin
  • The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, N.K. Jemisin
  • Filter House, Nisi Shawl

Again, a bit heavy on the women. And while that’s okay in general for reading (to make up for all those years of male classics), in this case I think I will need to add a few more male voices (since we didn’t read a lot of black male classics). Ellison’s Invisible Man immediately comes to mind. I would welcome other suggestions.

And I’ve decided that while a Black History immersion month is probably a good thing, I’ve decided to keep it up in a most modest way by resolving to read at least one African American book each month after February through the end of the year. Some might fit into a reading theme, but if not, I’ve realized I want to broaden my reading landscape more than I want to cleave to the theme.

I’m excited to bring this new focus into my life. Every once in a while, it’s really fun to go rogue.

Monthly Reading Themes, 2018

Schedules and circumstances didn’t allow Sheila and me to get together to finalize our 2018 reading themes before the New Year. We had identified themes for the first few months, just in case it took forever to meet, but we managed to meet in early January, and now have decided (mostly, which is to say more or less, which is to say I’m leaving a little wiggle room) on the 2018 reading themes.

(Note: At present, this is for our book club of two. But all are encouraged to participate. Choose a book or books in our themes, or identify your own themes. It’s a really fun way to run across books you might not otherwise read. Or a good way to read a book a month if you aren’t a hard-core reader.)

2018 Reading Themes

  • January: Religious Words (e.g., grace, holy, divine, mercy, god, sacred, faith, redemption)*
  • February: Day/Month/Season (esp. specific days of the week, months, seasons)**
  • March: Women (lady, miss, girl, queen, Eve, she, aunt, mother, nun, etc.)***
  • April: Object/Thing (yes, it’s odd; but books that have “object” or “thing” in the title, while not highly numerous, are highly appealing)*
  • May:  Architectural Elements (e.g., tower, gable, gate, wall, roof, porch, window, stairs)
  • June: Green (trees, grass, plants, park, leaves, the word green, etc.)
  • July: One-word titles (this is a repeat theme—super fun)
  • August: Music (e.g., sonata, chime, tune, song, sing, dance, symphony, jazz, choir, soprano, band)
  • September: Animals (the word animal, or fox, rat, dog, cat, mouse, dragonfly, dinosaur, gnat, toad, etc.)
  • October: Life (and variations: live, lives, lived, living)**
  • November: Health/Wellness/Medicine***
  • December: Journey (e.g., path, pilgrimage, travel, passage)^

So much to look forward to (esp. readingwise) in the coming year.

*This might seem it would get all religiony, but trust me, it’s a finely broad-ranging theme. Of course you could make it all religiony if you wanted to (I could see wanting to focus on a specific area for an entire month—hmmm, hmmm! That could be really fun sometime. Not this month, but definitely worth pondering down the road).

**I have Saturday, August, October, February, September, June, winter, summer, spring, and a few generic day/season books.

***For Women’s History Month.

*It’s possible that “It” could be added to things and objects. It seems like a good fit, and I want to reread Stephen King’s book, It.

**An amazing number of books across the spectrum have life/lives variations in their titles.

***This was a completely new add. We already had a good list of themes we were contemplating, but we’re both interested in healthcare, the healthcare industry, big pharma, and health and wellness, and when we stumbled across this in our conversation, it became the November theme. I’m quite excited about it.

^Confession: As this theme is the furthest away, I have given it the least thought. Except for pondering whether “paradise” might be part of journey. I have several paradise books I want to read….

New Year’s Resolutions

I like making New Year’s resolutions. I find them a good way to set goals, try new things, and sometimes, induce new habits. I usually try to do three, in different areas of my life. Last year I resolved to: (1) send a weekly postcard to the Minnesota Senate majority leader, (2) give May baskets to several of my neighbors, and (3) get back to blogging (I had not blogged for months).

Overall I did quite well. For the political postcard project, I sent the majority leader a total of 57 postcards. In addition, I added another senator (on a couple of key health committees) in late July, and sent her 18 postcards.

I did indeed do May baskets (and plan to do again this year, but now May baskets are moving more into tradition rather than resolution). As for blogging, I had resolved (parenthetically) to blog weekly. That didn’t happen, but I did post more regularly, and I will be satisfied enough with that.

Here are my resolutions for 2018:

  1. Expand personal correspondence. I enjoyed the political postcard project, and I again wanted to do something with postcards, but I wanted to take a break from politics. So I decided to send my niece a weekly postcard. I tend to be abysmal at email, but find I have a bit of a gift for snail mail; and with the wide assortment of postcards I’ve accumulated over the years of the haiku project (yes, I’m still doing it), I can send a variety of sometimes beautiful, or funny, interesting, and even potentially scandalous cards. She has already received the first postcard and is quite excited about the whole thing. I’m also going to try to establish correspondence with an author. But I realize that it could well be that a person who writes for a living might not be inclined to find writing in their off time a relaxing/enjoyable thing. But I am giving it a try, and the card is in the mail. I’ll let you know if I hear back.
  1. Work out (yoga, walk, weights) at least twice a week. Yes, I know it’s a low bar, but I want to be realistic. This way, I might at least establish a bit of discipline. I have been known to work out five times a week and track it and everything—for about three weeks, but then I lose discipline. I can always do more than two (and I expect I will, especially in spring and fall when I love to walk), but I like having this low bar as a bit of a work-out safety net.
  1. Do at least one novel thing a month with my spouse. I got this idea from an excellent book I read in December, Life Reimagined, by Barbara Bradley Hagerty, which I hope to blog about sometime soon (so many ideas for posts of late!). I’m starting to compile a list of novel things for us to choose from. My ideas include play mini-golf, take a class together (a cooking class, perhaps?), try a new cuisine (Somali?), attend a Supreme Court case, Explore Brooklyn (we are going to NYC for a wedding in August), visit the prairie (southwestern Minnesota has some gorgeous prairie lands), tour one of the huge mansions on Summit Avenue when there’s an open house, go on a paddleboat ride down the Mississippi, walk in the rain on purpose. Nothing hugely weird, just things we’ve never done together (and for many of them, things we’ve never done at all, or at least not for decades). Suggestions are welcome. The more we have to choose from, the better. And after all, we aren’t limited to one a month. This could be a very fruitful resolution.

Any New Year’s resolutions out there that anyone cares to share? (I love to post mine, because it strengthens my resolve. Also, I’m pretty sure no one but me is keeping track.)

Happy New Year to you! Wishing you good books, good friends, and a lot of laughter in the coming year.

2018: So Many Books (and Happy New Year)

We’ve already moved into January (and I have many things to get caught up on with this blog, which is one of my New Year’s resolutions) and also into a new monthly reading theme. The theme for January is religious terms or words (or, occasionally, phrases). This is a super-rich area for book titles (some more religious than others, and some, of course, not religious at all).

Here are the fiction books that leapt off my shelves:

  • The Holy Machine, Chris Beckett
  • Parable of the Talents, Octavia Butler
  • Blessed Are Those Who Mourn, Kristi Belcamino
  • Can I Get an Amen, Sarah Healy
  • Grace Notes, Bernard MacLaverty
  • Minaret, Leila Aboulela
  • God on the Rocks, Jane Gardam
  • Act of God, Jill Ciment
  • Holy Fools, Joanne Harris
  • The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver
  • Kabbalah: A Love Story, Rabbi Lawrence Kushner

Nonfiction is troubling, as there as so very many theme books I want to read, and only 31 days in the month. Calling to me:

  • Grace (Eventually), Ann Lamott
  • Living With a Wild God, Barbara Ehrenreich
  • Unlikely Disciple, Kevin Roose
  • The Light of the World, Elizabeth Alexander
  • Words of Passion, bell hooks
  • Shopping for Buddhas, Jeff Greenwald
  • Lipstick Jihad, Azadeh Moaveni
  • Living by the Word, Alice Walker
  • Devil in the Details, Jennifer Traig
  • Aphrodite, Isabel Allende
  • Life is a Miracle, Wendell Berry
  • Amazing Grace, Kathleen Norris

And a few poetry titles for frosting:

  • Clothesline Religion, Megan Buchanan
  • Nature’s Grace, Carolyn Zonailo
  • The Tulip Sacrament, ‘Annah Sobelman
  • The Gatehouse Heaven, James Kimbrell

As you can see, I’ve got a fine month of reading ahead of me. I have already finished Holy the Firm by Annie Dillard, a reread for me. Oddly, I quite disliked this book on my third reading. I will put it back on the shelf and see how it wears in a few years. But I have to say, the strong dislike took me aback. It also makes me want to revisit Teaching a Stone to Talk and Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (which I especially loved).

December’s reading theme (things that fly) was a good one, and I got back into reading mode. I finished 11 books (4 fiction, 4 nonfiction, 3 poetry). The best of the theme books was The Invention of Wings, by Sue Monk Kidd (a marvelous reimagining of the famous feminist/abolitionist Grimke sisters). The Bees, by Laline Paull also stood out, and while it is called a dystopian novel, I didn’t find it so at all. Is one happy at the end of a dystopian novel? (She snorts, I think not.) Also in fictionland, a YA novel that I quite adored, Memoirs of a Bookbat, by Kathryn Lasky. A book for anyone who loves books or libraries, or has experienced a time in their life when books are their only friend.

In the world of nonfiction, the standout was The Geese of Beaver Bog, by Bernd Heinrich. This is a fine study of Canada geese (and other bog residents, on occasion) that I found both fun and fascinating. Canada geese are extremely common here in Minnesota (and Minneapolis), and I loved learning more about them. Most interesting to me: The white facial marking on the goose’s face varies and can be used to identify individuals. Also, Canada geese are not nearly the lifelong devoted monogamous mates that we (birders) had been led to believe. Monogamous, yes, if it’s convenient. I will no longer feel sorrow when I see a single goose winging through the air. OMG, have I put you to sleep? I think all my friends want to tell me to cut back on the bird ramblings.

I have been remiss in blogging and intend to get back on the horse in this new year. I already have a slate of topics, including New Year’s resolutions, caregiver tips (based on recent experience), 2018 reading themes (soon to be finalized), and perhaps a look back at 2017—the best birds, the best books, and other best moments. Also maybe the biggest flops.

Happy New Year to you!