My summer of leisure

In May, I finished my master's degree. I am free this summer--no work and no school. What am I going to do with all my free time?

• Read as many books as possible. Right now, I'm reading three--see the sidebar.
• Blog more than once per month.
  
• Write something other than a boring blog post, maybe some poems or an essay.
  
• Walk for at least one hour at least five days per week. So far, I have walked three days, but today was the first one that I walked for an hour.
• Clean house one day a week. I did laundry today. Does that count as cleaning house?
• Swim.
• Get my stuff in the office weeded, recycled, and organized.
• Add books to my LibraryThing library.
  
• Try out the watercolors that I bought about two years ago.
• Find a new quote for my blog.
  

I'm sure there are other things that I could do. Any suggestions?

Where did poetry month go?

Geez, I'm a very bad poetry pusher. I can't believe that I just stopped posting poems on April 11, and that was a month ago now.

In the mean time, I graduated from the University of North Texas with a masters in library and information sciences. Woohoo! I am so glad to be finished and proud that I didn't give up and quit before I finished this degree like I did the masters in literature that I pursued in the 90s.

Since I will have more free time, I should be able to post more often--notice that I said should. :-) If I want to post more, I need to figure out what to write about. I tend to jot down blog ideas in my Moleskine, but I also tend to forget about the jottings until the moment has passed to write about the topic. Maybe my new phone, a Palm Centro, will help me post more.

I used to have a Palm Pilot that I loved and used all the time. Then it died, perhaps from overuse, and I never replaced it. I kept hesitating because I thought I might get a Palm phone or a Blackberry, but I never did. I just kept replacing my cell phone with a newer cell phone, nothing cutting edge or cool. Now, I have a Palm again. (Thanks, Valerie!)

If you are one of the two readers who hasn't given up on this blog yet, I will try to post something interesting on a regular basis, or at least, post links to someone else's interesting posts/articles.

Until then, have a good Monday.

Friday's poem

I have had Break, Blow, Burn for a while (a gift from Valerie, I think). In this book, Camille Paglia analyzes 43 "of the world's best poems" (book jacket). When I first received the book, I started reading it straight through, but I stopped at some point and put the book aside for other books and never went back. I chose today's poem because it is the next one, where I left off reading. It just happens to be by Emily Dickinson, one of my favorite poets. I hope you enjoy the poem and your Friday.

Safe in their alabaster chambers--
Untouched by Morning--
And untouched by Noon--
Lie the meek members of the Resurrection--
Rafter of Satin--and Roof of Stone!

Grand go the Years--in the Crescent--above them--
Worlds scoop their Arcs--
And Firmaments--row--
Diadems--drop--and Doges--surrender--
Soundless as dots--on a Disc of Snow--

Pin free but not pain free and today's poem

This morning, the doctor yanked the pins out of my finger. I really have no idea if I could feel the pins coming out of my hand or not because I was in too much pain from the doctor's death grip on my hand. OUCH!!! My day ended with more pain at physical therapy. Seriously, the concentrated pain of the physical therapist bending my very stiff finger was worse than any of the pain that I have experienced throughout this whole ordeal. I almost cried. Seriously. The old adage no pain, no gain must be the Hippocratic oath of physical therapists. The really sad part is that I will have to go back for more pain two or three times a week for at least a month.

Before I get too depressed about my pain-filled immediate future, I will give you a poem for today. This poem is from my (or Valerie's--we both have one) signed copy of Mary Oliver's Thirst. Most of these poems deal with her grief over the death of her partner of over forty years. Many of them are sad but so beautiful. This one makes me say WOW and wish I could write like her.

Those Days

When I think of her I think of the long summer days
she lay in the sun, how she loved the sun, how we
spread our blanket, and friends came, and

the dogs played, and then I would get restless and
get up and go off to the woods
and the fields, and the afternoon would

soften gradually and finally I would come
home, through the long shadows, and into the house
where she would be

my glorious welcoming, tan and hungry and ready to tell
the hurtless gossips of the day and how I
listened leisurely while I put

around the room flowers in jars of water--
daisies, butter-and-eggs, and everlasting--
until like our lives they trembled and shimmered
everywhere.

A poem for Saturday

Thanks to working a little late and a great night out with friends I failed to post a poem yesterday. Of course, the likelihood that I might actually post a poem every day of this month was low to begin with. After all, my posts have been so sporadic for the previous several months that what small readership I had has dwindled to almost none. I am hoping that my post-graduation posts, especially during the summer and holiday breaks, will be more regular and generate some more interest and bring in some more readers. One can always hope, right? :-)

Anyway, today's poem is by Ani Difranco from Verses. I bought this book of poetry for Valerie a couple of weeks ago. Valerie is a big Ani fan, and she said this morning that I should post one of the poems from this book, something that I had already intended to do. My plan is to post at least one poem from each book of poetry that we own--most of our poetry books are shelved together on one shelf of our great wall of books. I love our wall of books! (If I wasn't such a lame blogger, I would include a photo here.)

Okay, here's the poem .

Literal

when they said he could walk on water
what it sounds like to me

is he could float like a butterfly
and sting like a bee

literal people are scary, man
literal people scare me

out there trying to rid the world of its poetry

while getting it wrong fundamentally
down at the church of "look!
it says right here, see!"

Pin removal postponed and today's poem

I am so disappointed that I won't get things pins removed from my finger tomorrow as planned. The doctor had to reschedule for Monday morning. I am having trouble accepting the change, and I learned of the change yesterday. I am sooooooooooo ready to free my hand from the bandages. I know it will take some time to regain full use of my finger and stop having pain, but I am ready to be able use my left hand again. Alas, there is nothing I can do about it. I'm not brave enough or reckless enough to pull the pins out myself, and I can't (won't?) convince Valerie to do it for me, so I guess I have to live with the inconvenience for a few more days.

Enough whining, I'll give you a poem now. I'll make it a short one since I am still typing one-handed for the most part. The poem, by Jane Mayhall, is from her book Sleeping Late on Judgment Day. Enjoy!

Love Is

Love is not gourmet
cream trifles
or pacified sucks.

But walking on broken rocks
where nobody goes--
love is.
2004

Later.

Today's Poem

Valerie went to San Francisco recently. At my behest, she went to City Lights Book Store, and she brought back this book. Today's poem is in this book, and it celebrates two things that I really enjoy, poetry and baseball.

The Origin of Baseball
--Kenneth Patchen

Someone had been walking in and out
Of the world without coming
To much decision about anything.
The sun seemed too hot most of the time.
There weren't enough birds around
And the hills had a silly look
When he got on top of one.
The girls in heaven, however, thought
Nothing of asking to see his watch
Like you would want someone to tell
A joke--'Time,' they'd say, 'what's
That mean--time?' laughing with the edges
Of their white mouths, like a flutter of paper
In a madhouse. And he'd stumble over
General Sherman or Elizabeth B.
Browning, muttering, 'Can't you keep
Your big wings out of the aisle?' But down
Again, there'd be millions of people without
Enough to eat and men with guns just
Standing there shooting each other.

So he wanted to throw something
And he picked up a baseball.

Poetry Month Begins

April is the National Poetry Month--my favorite month. I am going to try very hard to post a poem here each day. I probably won't comment on them most days, but they will be here for your enjoyment.

Today's poem is by one of my favorite poets, Adrienne Rich.

Diving into the Wreck

First having read the book of myths,
and loaded the camera,
and checked the edge of the knife-blade,
I put on
the body-armor of black rubber
the absurd flippers
the grave and awkward mask.
I am having to do this
not like Cousteau with his
assiduous team
aboard the sun-flooded schooner
but here alone.

There is a ladder.
The ladder is always there
hanging innocently
close to the side of the schooner.
We know what it is for,
we who have used it.
Otherwise
it is a piece of maritime floss
some sundry equipment.

I go down.
Rung after rung and still
the oxygen immerses me
the blue light
the clear atoms
of our human air.
I go down.
My flippers cripple me,
I crawl like an insect down the ladder
and there is no one
to tell me when the ocean
will begin.

First the air is blue and then
it is bluer and then green and then
black I am blacking out and yet
my mask is powerful
it pumps my blood with power
the sea is another story
the sea is not a question of power
I have to learn alone
to turn my body without force
in the deep element.

And now: it is easy to forget
what I came for
among so many who have always
lived here
swaying their crenellated fans
between the reefs
and besides
you breathe differently down here.

I came to explore the wreck.
The words are purposes.
The words are maps.
I came to see the damage that was done
and the treasures that prevail.
I stroke the beam of my lamp
slowly along the flank
of something more permanent
than fish or weed

the thing I came for:
the wreck and not the story of the wreck
the thing itself and not the myth
the drowned face always staring
toward the sun
the evidence of damage
worn by salt and away into this threadbare beauty
the ribs of the disaster
curving their assertion
among the tentative haunters.

This is the place.
And I am here, the mermaid whose dark hair
streams black, the merman in his armored body.
We circle silently
about the wreck
we dive into the hold.
I am she: I am he

whose drowned face sleeps with open eyes
whose breasts still bear the stress
whose silver, copper, vermeil cargo lies
obscurely inside barrels
half-wedged and left to rot
we are the half-destroyed instruments
that once held to a course
the water-eaten log
the fouled compass

We are, I am, you are
by cowardice or courage
the one who find our way
back to this scene
carrying a knife, a camera
a book of myths
in which
our names do not appear.
(1972)

I PASSED!

I am absolutely elated and thoroughly relieved. I passed Capstone, a week-long essay test that I took in February, which is the "final exam" for my master's degree program. I was truly worried that I might not pass one of the three essays, and the exam is an all or nothing situation. Now, I just have to pass the class I'm taking this semester, and I will have a master's degree in library and information sciences. Hopefully, I will then be able to let go of some of my disappointment at never finishing my thesis for a master's in literature.

One minor sadness: I wish my parents were still alive to witness my success. I know that they would be proud, and my mom would tell everyone that she thought might remember me. After she died, I discovered that she had told so many people about even my smallest professional triumphs.

Catching Up: A Thursday Thirteen

I've haven't blogged in almost a month, and I thought a Thursday thirteen would be a fun way to get caught up.

1. Falling for Hillary - On Feb. 28, I went to see Hillary Clinton. I was very excited, even though I was going alone because Valerie was out of town. At the time, I didn't know of any other friends whom I thought would want to join me. At this venue, unlike the Barack Obama rally that I attended, anyone could stand on the floor in front of the stage. Hillary gave an inspiring speech, and I was so glad that I didn't decide not to go alone. After being crushed by the crowd trying to get her autograph after the speech, I tripped and fell in the parking lot on the way to my car. No, I did not just trip of my own accord; my shoe got tangled in some plastic netting that had been used to block off parts of the parking lot. Yes, the same netting that others were walking over with no problem. Although I knew immediately that I had hurt my left pinkie very badly, I was more embarrassed than hurt.
2. Secret Service Surprise - After I fell, I needed to figure out if and how I would go to the emergency room. I was in an unfamiliar part of the city, so I didn't know where the closest emergency room was. A man in uniform came over to see if I was okay, and he suggested that I should let some EMTs take a look at my hand before I decided if I could drive myself to the emergency room. He said there was an ambulance on the property already so I agreed. He radioed someone about the ambulance. Soon, two other officers arrived. One of them suggested that I go ahead and drive myself to the nearest ER, because the ambulance had already left the premises. Thinking that police officers could tell me where the closest ER, I asked, and was quite surprised when one of them said they were from DC. It was then that I realized they were Secret Service officers and not local officers.
   
3. A Broken Pinkie - Feel free to laugh. The thought of needing surgery on a pinkie seems rather absurd to me. The pain and inconvenience of it has not been funny though. Seeing the hooks from the two pins that were inserted into the bone almost made me pass out this week when the splint and bandage were changed. I still have at least one and a half weeks before the pins are removed. I was lucky that it was my left one. Since I am right-handed, I can still write but typing virtually one-handed is slow and not much fun. And it has put a crimp in my Spring Break fun.
   
4. Lucy, Finally - Monday, the first day of Spring Break, Valerie and I finally went to the museum to see the Lucy exhibit. In addition to the bones, the exhibit contains historical and cultural artifacts from various parts of Ethiopia. I enjoyed the exhibit immensely, but I enjoyed seeing Valerie's enjoyment of it even more. She really misses anthropology, and I'm sure that seeing the exhibit made her miss it even more, but it was really great to see how excited it made her.
5. Recent Reading 1 - I finally found the time to finish reading Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche. I have decided than I do not like having several books going at one time. I read the first half of this one while I was reading some other books, then I put it aside to complete a book club reading, so by the time I finished the book, I had forgotten some things that I planned to say about the book. I was able to read the second half of the book during two post-surgery, sleepless nights thanks to a painkiller that kept me awake. I did mark one passage: "...a single act could reverberate over time and space and leave stains that could never be washed off." I wish that I had two hands to elaborate on the meaning of the passage. This is a civil war story, and it is even more interesting knowing that the war was real but the it is now forgotten and/or ignored. Adiche's prose drew me into the first section of the novel, and she kept me fixated even during the horrifying descriptions of the effects of war. In the final part of the novel, Adiche's characters attempt to put their post-war lives back together. I know I haven't said enough about it, but I highly recommend this novel. Also, if you have a chance to see Adiche read, don't miss her.
   
6. Recent Reading 2 - Last month's book club selection was The Girls by Lori Lansens. I was pleasantly surprised by this novel. It is narrated by conjoined twins. Lansens does a good job of distinguishing between the two sisters. This novel has a lot to say about the connections we have with family. Lansens also does a good job of making the girls' as-normal-as-possible life believable in the context of the book. If I wasn't one handed, I would say more.
7. Recent Reading 3 - The current book club selection is The Complete Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. This is only the second graphic book that I have read. I really enjoyed it. It was recommended to me over a year ago when I voiced my dissatisfaction with Reading Lolita in Tehran. Persepolis was much more satisfying without being heavy-handed or too light.
   
8. Current Reading 1 - I am trying to finish a previous book club selection, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See. I wasn't able to finish it because I had that 7 days of writing hell for my degree. After that week, I moved on to the next selection. I'm about half way through it.
9. Current Reading 2 - I just started Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev. This will be the first of four books for the Russian Reading Challenge that I am supposed to be participating in this year.
   
10. Next on my t0-read stack - Garden of Eden, one of Hemingway's posthumous novels. I read the first chapter when I purchased the novel a few weeks ago. It seems like an intriguing plot for a he-man like Hemingway.
11. Another on my t0-read stack - The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz. Valerie gave me this book for Christmas (birthday?) and I am ready to find time for it.
    
12. Still Waiting - I have two more weeks to wait before I find out if I passed Capstone and will get my masters degree in May. I am still not feeling confident, but I am ready to know one way or the other.
13. At last - Thirteen things are more difficult to think of and even harder to write one-handed than I thought. Whew!

Now, I'm going to work the crossword with Valerie before she does it without me. Later!

Just a quick post

before I clean the kitchen and go to bed. I am supposed to be working on a research paper, but I am procrastinating as usual.

I just have to say that I saw Barack Obama last night, and he was awesome. Not awesome enough for me to change my vote, but awesome still. He does have some great ideas. And, although I kept saying things like Is that possible? Can he really do that? How can he do that?, I did leave feeling like he could do some great things.

Texas matters this time, and I think it's very exciting. This is the best election year ever! :-)

Okay, I have to do the dishes now. 'Night all.

A Rainy Day of Reading

Too bad it wasn't pleasure reading. No, instead I spent most of the day reading for my final library science class, History and Culture of Youth Information Services or something exciting like that. ;-) Although I don't consider myself a history aficionado, I have enjoyed reading about the women who feminized librarianship and children's literature. Don't worry, I'm not going to expound on the topic here.

Despite enjoying that reading, I wish I had spent the day pleasure reading. I have two books that I want to finish and one that I need to start so I can have it read for the next book club meeting. I want to finish Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I started this book a while ago, but I put it aside to read a book (or two?) for work and to finish a book club book. Then I didn't go back to it because school was starting up and I needed to read Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See, which I was not able to finish on time for book club because I spent all last week writing three research papers for my degree.

Mostly, though, I want to read Half of a Yellow Sun. I can't wait to see the author Adichie read from this book tomorrow night. Since I was first seduced by this story, I have been trying to articulate what has drawn me into it. On Friday at work, I was thinking about it and thought I had figured out what I wanted to say about it, but now, I can't really remember my ideas. I'm sure I will recall them later. For now, I think I will retire to read to the sound of the rain.

A Week of Writing

This week I will be completing Capstone, a week-long essay test that essentially concludes my pursuit of a master's degree in library science. The program that I am in does not require a master's thesis, thank goodness. I tried that when I pursued a master of arts in literature in the 90s. Yeah, I never got past the proposal for my thesis. I was just too lazy about doing the work, even in the summer when I wasn't teaching high school English. I still feel like a quitter and loser for not completing it, too.

This time, though, I know I will finish--my job depends on it. I will spend Monday through Sunday researching and writing three essays. I am confident that I can do this, but I am worried about my tendency to procrastinate. Really, Procrastination is my middle name. I am procrastinating right now. (I should be working on class work for the final class that I am taking this semester or organizing articles from my previous classes to use as resources this week.)

This morning as I finished reading the Capstone Guide, it struck me that I feel like I am about to do something physical. I feel like I should have done some physical training, doing push-ups, sit-ups, jogging, or weight-lifting. I feel like I am going to need some physical stamina to survive the week.

Of course, I have spent the last two years, doing mental training for this week, and I really do believe that I will be successful. I just don't want to be working around the clock next Saturday and Sunday, submitting my work at the last possible minute. I have done that with too many of my assignments in my coursework. Each time, I have said that I won't do it again, but I still do. Hopefully, I will feel too stressed this week to let my penchant for procrastination lead me down that path again.

Also, I know that Valerie will monitor my procrastination when she's home and will call me on it when she sees me doing it. Hopefully, I won't get too pissy with her when she catches me procrastinating either. If I do, I will just have to make it up to her as soon as the week is over.

Now, I should stop procrastinating and do a little class work before an online chat about Captstone begins at 1:30.

You probably won't hear from me again until after next Sunday. Wish me luck!

Some restored faith

What a surprise! Hillary is winning in New Hampshire. Everyone had written her off there, and the media had all but given Obama the Democratic nomination after the Iowa results. I'm not going to boast or brag here because I know that this race is far from over. I will say, though, that I am pleased with the results.

I have been very angry at the Democrats, especially women (sorry Valerie!) , for the past week. I'm not exactly sure why it makes me so angry. In truth, I like Obama; I understand his appeal. If he ends up winning the nomination, I will be an ardent supporter. I just can't figure out how/why any woman who calls herself a liberal or a Democrat would not support an extremely qualified woman, a woman who has a real chance of becoming the president. Maybe it's my age--I am over 40--but I just think this race is the best chance for the women of America to put their votes where their mouths are and elect a woman president.

Now, I really should go to bed, but I think I will read for a while first. Tonight, I had intended to post some reading resolutions for 2008, but I guess I will post those tomorrow.

A Great First Day

Actually before I write about the first day of 2008, I want to say something about the last night of 2007. Valerie and I went to a party at Paasha, a new club in H-town, and we had a wonderful time--one of the best New Year's Eves in my life! Lots of fun and no drama! We danced and laughed and didn't get home until almost 2:00. I am so glad that we decided to go to that party.
Yesterday morning, Valerie woke up ready to tackle some household projects, like cleaning the patio, putting away the Christmas decorations, and organizing our storage closet. Although cleaning the patio this week had been on my agenda for this week, I wasn't really enthusiastic about the prospect of spending a holiday "working."

However, once we got going on the patio, I was completely into the cleaning. Since we moved in together, we have not done anything to our patio except clear the leaves off the drains and wade through the leaves to get out the gate to do laundry. I wish we had taken a before photo of the ankle-deep blanket of leaves that covered almost every inch of the patio. It took us all afternoon and into the night, but we got almost everything done...on the patio. Yeah, we didn't do anything with the Christmas decorations or the storage closet. We didn't even eat our black-eyed peas and cornbread, which is a typical New Year's repast in my world, until after 9:00. But it was worth it, and we actually had a good time doing it together.

Now, if it wasn't so damn cold outside today--36 degrees in very cold to a wimpy Texan--I could sit on the patio and waste today instead of wasting it on the couch. :-)

Recent Work/Reading

My new (in the 4th month, is it still new?) job as librarian in a junior high (grades 7-8) has been a bit frustrating at time. I have read so few of the books that my students read/should be reading. I taught high school, mostly juniors and seniors, English for fifteen years, and I have no children. I hated the Children's Literature class that I took two summers ago. I haven't yet acquired a taste for much young adult literature either. So, I looked forward to reading something by an author that I knew and respected. I wasn't disappointed either.

Years ago, I read one or two short stories by Sherman Alexie, and I had seen the movie based on some of his short stories, Smoke Signals. I have heard him interviewed on radio and television, but I have never read one of his novels. When I heard that he won the National Book Award for Young People's Literature this year, I was excited for two reasons. First, I actually knew the author of a book that I might want to purchase for my school's library collection. Second, I remember enjoying the stories and the film and enjoying his interviews--he seemed like an affable, funny guy.

The whole time I was reading The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian I kept thinking about Whitman's "Song of Myself." (I'm sure some smarter critic has already pointed out the similarities, but I can't find evidence of it online.) At first I thought the similarity was just a physical similarity--the printed pages looked like some (much?) of Whitman's poem: The short, sometimes only one sentence, paragraphs and the use of cataloging, parallel structure, and repetition. After I finished reading the novel, I thought more about the thematic similarities, and I kept trying to remember Whitman's line with "barbaric yawp" in it. The next morning at work after I finished the novel , I pulled a book of Whitman's poems off the shelf--ah! the joys of working in a library. I browsed through "Song of Myself" to find the line, which is in the final part. I read through this part of the poem several times, and I really think that the whole part sounds like Arnold Spirit, Alexie's protagonist.

"The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me....he
complains of my gab and my loitering.

I too am not a bit tamed....I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the
shadowed wilds,
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.

I depart as air....I shake my white locks at the runaway
sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at the first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop some where waiting for you."

(I wish that I knew Ginsberg's Howl better, and I might be able to make some connections between it and this book too. I know that Howl has been much compared to Whitman's "Song of Myself. " I could go into a detailed comparative analysis here, but since I'm not an English teacher or student right now, I'm not. Plus, it would bore and/or scare off my few remaining readers, and I wouldn't want to do that. )

Arnold Spirit is this boy who has so much bad in his life that it would be easy to accept him giving up and settling for a life of too little everything except bad. Instead, he strikes out on his own and succeeds, but not without struggle and not without the help of family and friends along the way. Wow! What a trite summary. I promise this novel is not trite!

I think this novel tells a great American story. And you have to love a book with a character who compares the joy of reading a good book with getting a boner. :-)

Finally!

"I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night."

"It was only a smile, nothing more. It didn't make everything all right. It didn't make anything all right. Only a smile. A tiny thing. A leaf in the woods, shaking in the wake of a startled bird's flight.
But I'll take it. With open arms. Because when spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time, and maybe I just witnessed the first flake melting."

What beautiful words to end a book that has so much of the ugliness of mankind in it. I have finally read Kite Runner. It had been in my to-read periphery for a long time. I started it a couple of weeks ago and wasn't really that impressed with the opening chapters, so I put it aside to read Beige (a work read). I was worried that Kite Runner couldn't satisfy or impress me enough to live up to its reputation--everyone that I know who has read it raves about its greatness. I shouldn't have been worried. Once I went back to it, I started being drawn into the story. I cried more than once as I read, and I wanted to read the book constantly. The last book club read was such a disappointment that I had been feeling rather listless about reading. I needed to fall in love with a book. Kite Runner cured my reading blahs.

I wasn't that impressed with Khaled Hosseini's prose style, but the plot of this novel is great. When I finished the book this morning at work, I wished that I knew how to talk about music. The language of this book is not musical, but the last three or four chapters felt like a symphony to me. Or I felt like a symphony should be the background music to this ending. I really can't explain what I mean, but my first thought after I read the last sentence was this: What an ending! I wish I knew musical terms. If I figure out how to explain myself, I will post more on Kite Runner later.

I think I will go read one of the stories in the latest book club selection, No one belongs here more than you, and go to bed. Oh wait, before I go, I just have to say one thing: What about those Cowboys! 11-1 and a clinched playoff berth. Woohoo! :-)

A Picture Perfect Day

Today was a gorgeous day! A breezy 66 for the high, and the sky was beautifully blue. I wish I had a photo to post to show you how glorious it was today.

After lunch today, I walked down the street to the middle school next door to the junior high where I am librarian. I took the long way to and from the other school so that I could be outside for as long as possible. On the walk back, I realized how good my life is right now. Even though I am not completely happy with my new job (I miss being in a high school but I'll save that story for a future post), I am so happy not to have to worry about submitting grades for students by the end of the day tomorrow. All week, my teacher co-workers have stressed over getting their grades submitted before the Thanksgiving break begins. It truly is a nice feeling not to have to worry about that kind of thing anymore. :-)

In addition to work, I am almost finished with my next to last semester of grad school. The 4-hour course that I am taking this semester is the hardest course that I have had to take, and I will be so glad when it's over.

Most importantly, my personal life is great! I will write specifically about that later, but, for now, I just want to say that I am very happy.

It's been over a month since I have posted an entry here, but I plan to post more regularly once this semester is over. Maybe I will regain those five or six readers that I used to have. If not, maybe I will find some more.

Have a great Friday everyone.

A Reading Challenge

I haven’t been blog reading or writing much lately. I just can’t seem to find the time. Last night, while sitting in my website development course, I browsed the most recent entries from the blogs on my feeds page.

Reading blogs about books inevitably leaves me wishing that I had more time to read or planning a trip to the bookstore or both. Last night was no different. Danielle at A Work in Progress posted her list of books for Ex Libris's Russian Reading Challenge. I have only attempted a couple of challenges in the past, and I don’t believe that I successfully completed either of them. Therefore, I was pleasantly surprised to see that for this challenge only four books in a one year are required. I might be a slow reader, but even I read more than four books in a year. So I think that I will participate in this challenge.

Here is my tentative list of Russian reads and some comments:

War and Peace - Do I dare take on such a lengthy book?
Fathers and Sons – I have wanted to read this book for since one of my former AP students did a research paper on it.
One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich – I read Gulag Archipelago as a teenager. I don’t remember much about it except that if was a long book.
Something by Nabokov – probably not Lolita, perhaps Pale Fire – for a while, every where I looked, people were talking about him.
Some Chekhov plays/stories
The Brothers Karamazov - I loved Crime and Punishment and feel like I should read more Dostoevsky.
Something by a female Russian novelist?
Russka by Edward Rutherford – I bought this book at Half-Priced Books a while back. It might be a good review of Russian history.

Surely I can find the time to read at least four of these in 2008. I will be finished with grad school in May and should have lots of free time next summer.

So much to blog about, so little time to blog

I want to blog about Gloria Steinem's lecture and book signing last night. However, I'm too tired now and will write about her later. For now, I will just say that I am still in awe.

I also need to blog about Michael Chabon's reading last week and about recent reading. Maybe I will find the energy and the time tomorrow.

Now, I'm going to read myself to sleep.