Sitting Here in Limbo . . .

No news re book . . . as I said before, this is the hard part.

But this is a nice ear worm to have. (If the picture link doesn't work, go HERE.)

John?

Thoughts from BABBITT

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"You," said Dr. Yavitch,"are a middle-road liberal, and you haven't the slightest idea what you want. I, being a revolutionist, know exactly what I want -- and what I want is a drink"

I first encountered Sinclair Lewis's BABBITT on my grandparents' bookshelves over sixty years ago. It's a look at  America in the Twenties and, alas, almost a century later, not a lot has changed. It's still an enjoyable read.

 

"He had never ridden in a motor car, never seen a bathtub, never read any book save the Bible, McGuffey's readers, and religious tracts; and he believed that the earth is flat, that the English are the Lost Ten Tribes of Israel, and that the United States is a democracy."

"With his broad shoulders and vigorous voice, he was obviously a Good Fellow; and, rarest of all, he really liked people. He almost liked the common workmen. He wanted them to be well paid, and able to afford high rents -- though, naturally, they must not interfere with the profits of stockholders."

A Family Heirloom

Our friend Vic, who lives on a boat year round, brought us his grandmother's egg gathering basket. 

Rather than embarrass our girls with unrealistic expectations, we have decided to treat the basket as art and hang it on the porch wall.

It's a strong graphic presence when the morning sun hits it.

I wonder how many chickens Vic's grandmother had?

A Retablo from a Friend

Is this sweet or what? A dear friend sent me this retablo she painted in memory of Willa. A halo, d0g biscuits, and rabbits! And those pretty mascara-lined eyes.

It sits at my right hand and keeps me company.

Not sure what a retablo is? Ask Mr. Google HERE.

Many thanks, 'Lisbeth!

Eclectic Reading

I think I was eleven or twelve when I first learned the word eclectic. I was thrilled to know there was a label for my particular, for want of a better word, idiom.

I thought of that when I realized that I was in the midst of or had just finished reading a bunch of very different books.

Our sailor friend Vic loaned me a book called Hatteras Blues: A story from the Edge of America by Tom Carlson. He was enthusiastic about this book so I settled in to read it, in spite of the fact that it seemed to be about sport-fishing – a topic in which I have precisely no interest. But the writing is so good . . . and it’s also about the Outer Banks and their history and their fragile ecology and the way of life (commercial fishing) of the residents – the real residents, not the vacation people – of Hatteras Village. I’m almost to the end and really wanting to pay a visit to the Outer Banks – in the off season.

I just finished Lost to the West: The Forgotten Byzantine Empire That Recued Western Civilization by Lars Brownworth. This is a fascinating and complex subject made slightly less confusing by an author who is known a ‘populizer’ – one who writes of a normally academic subject in a manner that the rest of us can enjoy. One of the most interesting thing in the welter of dynasties and heresies and truly terrible people in the struggle between the two parts of what had been the Roman Empire is the absolute relevance of what happened then to what is happening today. As they say, those who don’t study history are often doomed to repeat it. (While those who do study it, may have to stand helplessly by as the mob rages unchecked.)

Then there’s Pollyanna, a 1913 children’s book by Eleanor H. Porter. Told you I was eclectic. I read this when I was quite young – about the same time I was reading the Bobbsey Twins. I remember eventually feeling a bit cynical about her perpetual gladness, but, as I read it now, it’s not as smarmy as you might think. In fact, I’m enjoying it after all those nasty Byzantines and their assorted enemies and their gruesome ways of killing one another.

Another bit of pure pleasure is the audiobook I was listening to as I cleaned the grease off the kitchen cabinets. Neil Gaiman’s The View from the Cheap Seats is a collection of his essays and speeches—very, well, eclectic collection. I can’t do better than to quote from his publisher’s blurb --

"Analytical yet playful, erudite yet accessible, this cornucopia explores a broad range of interests and topics, including (but not limited to): authors past and present; music; storytelling; comics; bookshops; travel; fairy tales; America; inspiration; libraries; ghosts; and the title piece, at turns touching and self-deprecating, which recounts the author's experiences at the 2010 Academy Awards in Hollywood."

 Plus, the audio is read by Himself – I’d listen to NG read the phonebook.

And there was The Conjure Woman by Charles Waddell Chestnutt, a collection of tales from the ante- and post-bellum South, told by an African American author in the late 1800s. The heavy use of dialect would turn some people off but as I grew up reading Uncle Remus and Tom Sawyer and others of that ilk, I was not deterred. An interesting look at the past.

I’ll round it off with Marriage and Family in the Middle Ages by Frances and Joseph Gies– more ‘popular’ history. 

Quoting Library Journal: "Two experienced popular historians have assembled a well-researched and well-written overview of a lively topic in medieval scholarship, the history of the family. They start from the Roman, Germanic, and Christian backgrounds of medieval family life, cover its recently discovered 11th- and 12th-century transformations, and exploit (I wonder if LJ meant explore) the rich late medieval examples of family life. Among other topics the authors treat family definition and size, marriage rules and customs, and sexual relations. " Richard C. Hoffman, York Univ., North York, Ontario.

I admit to kinda skimming this one -- but I really enjoyed the look at the past.

Where will I go next? Perhaps to The Well at the World's End . . .

Oops, hold everything! Ron Rash's latest just arrived, sent to my by a dear blog friend who shares my appreciation for this talented writer. The Well can wait . . .

Purple and Red, Yellow and Green

Many Thanks . . .

For all the kind words and thoughts . . .

My neighbor Liz sent me these pics she had of Willa with Liz's daughter . . .

And with daughter's boyfriend . . .

She was some little dog . . .

Willa ~ 201? -2016 . . .

Yesterday I had to make that decision that is so difficult yet such a blessing. 

Willa had not been eating with  her usual appetite and there had been several occasions of urinary incontinence for which I'd taken her to her regular vet. He prescribed some pills; the incontinence stopped. She was still picky about her food but could be enthusiastic about chicken and rice which I fixed for her. And she still ran around with her usual energy.

Then on Saturday she refused all food and there was profuse vomiting on Sunday morning. So I took Willa to the emergency vet on the other side of Asheville. 

After much blood work and several x-rays, Willa was diagnosed with severe/chronic kidney failure. The prognosis was bleak -- there were treatments but little/no hope that they would restore kidney function.

So I opted to let her leave this life, with bramble briars still in her fur from chasing rabbits Friday night.

They brought her to me in a room with a sofa where I could spend a little time holding her and talking to her. 

She was in my arms with her head on my shoulder when the vet put the lethal dose into the already in place IV. My hand was on her heart when it stopped.

It was a gentle passing and the vet assured me that it was the right choice . . . I said I wished I could have that sort of choice if I were faced with an incurable disease.

I held her a little longer before they took her away and put her into a box so I could bring her home.

She's buried by a stone bench on the edge of the woods where she ran and barked and chased rabbits.

Goodbye, little girl, goodbye to my sweet mountain feist.

Remembering All the Precious Lives . . .

Randomness