Saturday, 24 November 2018
We had had this much rain:
With fairly low energy and the need to go card shopping hanging over my head, I managed to get a bit of the front garden tidied up.
before, with tired and floppy Sanguisorba ‘Pink Elephant’
after
before
after
Facebook sent me a memory of a photo of the front garden on November 17, 2010:
Now:
Dichroa febrifuga berries
The Toy (Stihl battery trimmers) had made quick work of the smaller clipping in the front so that I had time to take the old spotty leaves off of almost all of the hellebores throughout the garden.
Skooter, who had been on the roof…
…came down and helped.
I felt I must go down to the port and support my favourite businesses on Small Business Saturday. Allan had gone shopping overseas (across the Columbia River, that is) and so I went on my own, across the field beyond the bogsy wood, as the field was not yet too boggy to navigate.
My primary need was more holiday greeting cards, a need easily fulfilled at the Don Nisbett Art Gallery.
view from Don’s gallery
our bouquet
I visited Scout and Karla at Time Enough Books.
my good friend Scout
in Time Enough
With my card mission accomplished, I was glad to get home, draw the curtains at 4, and return to a new book by a favourite author.
The author refers to another favourite book series of mine. The first passage about them does not reveal what they are.
Pages later, the reveal thrilled me.
Later, our protagonist rereads Queen Lucia.
As I read of him helping a high school student apply to colleges, I learned about the interesting exam questions that some colleges, in this case the University of Chicago, ask. (I did not go to college so never went through that process.)
I googled to see if it were true that the U of C asks questions like this. That lead to some interesting side reading.
Example:
In 2015, the city of Melbourne, Australia created a “tree-mail” service, in which all of the trees in the city received an email address so that residents could report any tree-related issues. As an unexpected result, people began to email their favorite trees sweet and occasionally humorous letters. Imagine this has been expanded to any object (tree or otherwise) in the world, and share with us the letter you’d send to your favorite.
This led to some poignant reflections on having not gone to college, due to poverty and to having parents who had no interest; at the time, it was hard to get financial aid if you were under 21 and had parents who could help but would not. If I could go back in time, I would refuse all distractions in high school and seek the sort of help that I read about in My Ex-Life. I made myself invisible to teachers and counselors.
I shook off those thoughts and returned to reading.
A description of a small town made me think of Ilwaco:
Why did reading Portrait of a Lady lead to an obsession with outdoor rooms?
Sunday, 25 November 2018
I had a true staycation day with no where to go and no one to see. Dry weather made it a gardening day, with my usual helper.
He is not helping my comfy tattered old sweater.
after some weeding
before
after
Rain interrupted me and I was glad to return to reading before dark. I would like to have been indoors all day like Frosty…
…in the same chair, but reading instead of sleeping.
Monday, 26 November 2018
A day of rain filled me with joy and made it an all reading day.
I finished a library book that I had begun last night.
The author had many privileges that led to her career as a “leader”, which she does admit. Although it was interesting and politically pleasing, I have to admit I skimmed some of it.
I learned something about Nancy Pelosi (which I may have been aware of in 2002, so long ago):
“Women usually aren’t in [politics] for the glory…but to get things done…..”
I still had time for a book of mostly hilarious essays about old age by the author of the glorious Ethel and Ernest.
I would like to say I loved every minute of it. I almost did, except for the disappointing chapter in which Raymond Briggs, in his 70s, along with his girlfriend of a similar age, enjoy going to town to make fun of fat people and critically watch them eat. How depressing to read about such a good, funny writer having not learned by then not to be so damn mean. I can guarantee the people that they thought they were secretly ridiculing were aware of it.
I gave the book five stars (top marks) on GoodReads but the next day I had to go back and drop a star because the fat-bullying chapter bothered me so much.
Other than that, it is such a wonderful book, especially for a Britophile like me, full of delicious descriptions like this one.
I do feel like Raymond does that my childhood now seems so antiquated with party telephone lines (used by more than one household; my grandma had one), black and white telly, and of course no computers.
I had time after that to read a very short book called On Wheels, British, about motor cars, and of interest because it is written by Margaret Drabble’s husband, Michael Holroyd. (Thanks to MaryBeth, who I believe is the one who passed it on to me.)
At about 1 AM, I looked at the weather and saw that the day had brought over 3 inches of rain.
I was hoping for more of the same all week so that I could just keep reading.
