Book Review: Tortuga by Rudolfo Anaya

Tortuga is a bittersweet novel about a 16-year old boy who is injured in an accident and must go to the Crippled Children’s Hospital to recover. Set in the 1950s when Iron Lungs helped keep the most severe polio sufferers alive, this bleak portrait of life in a hospital somehow shines with a luminescence that I found very surprising.

Tortuga uses his spiritual gifts to connect with the “vegetables” in the polio ward and is overcome with the grief of life and suffering he sees there. Driven to despair he contemplates suicide, yet survives and then goes on to become a singer about pain and suffering as well as the beauty of life that he manages to see through his experiences at the hospital.

I’m painting a rather ominous picture of one of the most beautiful books I’ve read. The basic plot-line is as I’ve described above, but the desire to live and fight and be more than you currently are, coupled with beautiful prose, witty characters and an overall joy of living that permeates throughout the book, Tortuga does not leave the reader despairing. Instead, the reader finishes with a sense of hope and confidence in the future.

MMM...tasty?

Book Review: A Slight Trick of the Mind by Mitch Cullin

What an amazing book. Really, truly, amazing.

Cullin imagines Sherlock Holmes at 93: memory failing and facing the end of his life. What lessons and observations will that ingenious deciphering mind come up with when faced with love and loss, and at such a fleeting time that he’s likely not to remember it when he next wakes up or reaches into his pocket for the next snippet of memory placed there at some previous time.

The novel consists of three plot lines. The first is “present day” (1947) Sherlock—93 and just returning from a trip to Japan where he is in search of the elusive prickly ash plant. Here we see Sherlock interacting with his housekeeper, Mrs. Munro, and her son, Roger. Mrs. Munro’s husband was killed in combat in WWII. Sherlock attends his bees, harvesting the royal jelly for its health benefits.

The second plot line follows the trip to Japan where Sherlock meets up with a man whose real purpose for bringing Sherlock to Japan was to find answers about his long-lost father. Sherlock does find a prickly ash plant and cherishes the experience, much of the remainder of the trip is lost to “present day” Sherlock, but the reader gets beautifully written passages about post-war Japan and how WWII not only affected the landscape in Hiroshima but also the minds and souls of the Japanese people.

The third plot line is Sherlock’s own telling of one of his cases that wasn’t recorded by Dr. Watson. In this story, Mr. Keller, strives to find out what is troubling his wife. Sherlock find some sort of fascination or love for Mrs. Keller in his brief encounter with her in a garden, leading to his love of bees and tending of the apiary.

While the description of the separate plots sounds confusing or overwhelming the book is far from that. Very tightly written and organized, I found myself completely drawn into the story of a man whose memory—that thing that has defined him his entire life—is failing and he’s aware of it. The elusiveness of memory, of the bees, of love, of humanity permeates this beautifully written book. It will remain on my shelf.

I wish I had Smell-O-Blog

This is the jasmine we planted last year--there are three bushes on the lattice here, this is the pic of the one in the middle. The smell is amazing.

This is celebration!

Casey's Towels

4 towels for my cousin Casey who is getting married today...they'll arrive a little late, oh well. 100% cotton and soft and wonderful as all the other towels, in aqua, royal blue, natural and beige.

Rosey Bushes

The roses are planted on our back patio. The creeper in the corner (tied up to the trellis) has been a hanger-on since we moved into the house 8 years ago. We cut it back, it didn't grow, we dug it up, or thought so, and left it for dead...only last year it grew back, so we decided to wait and see what would happen. Lovely deep red roses on it.

Book Review: The King's Grace by Anne Easter Smith

The King's Grace is a good read. I've read the two previous books in this series and enjoyed both of them immensely as well.

Smith writes about the time in British history typically called "the war between the roses"--the house of Lancaster and the house of York vie for the throne ending up with the Tudor King Henry VII eradicating the York line.

This installment is told from the perspective of Grace, one of Edward IV's bastard children, who is welcomed at court and plays an important role in this fictionalized portrayal of the mystery of the "boys in the tower" (King Edward's legitimate sons who were placed in the tower by Richard and never seen again).

The story is captivating and despite the fact that the book is so big, you really dig in and want to sit and read and read. I find myself getting to that point with each of Smith's books, and I really enjoy that I have so much to read--I can stay captivated for a long time. The characters are likable--or not when they shouldn't be--and the plot is interesting with enough turns to keep you reading, but not too many so that it doesn't seem plausible.

My only complaint is Smith's attempt at mimicking the middle English vernacular. It couldn't be done and be readable, but the "certes" and "tis" and other such words thrown in for "authenticity" don't ring true with this reader. I find myself overlooking it, though, after a few pages.

I'm happy...

I'm happy that my civic ordeal is over this week. We meet tomorrow, get "released" and then I'll never ever ever have to do that again.

38 days...

In 38 days I won't have to have conversations with either of my daughters about whether they are actually going to do their clothes or just complain about them being dirty...I won't miss that at all...I'm really looking forward to being friendly with them...and not "dealing" with irritableness and gripiness and other teenage ickiness!

Sonatina in C Major, Mvt. I, by Kuhlau

Please forgive the early flubs...other than that I think it's a decent playing.

They didn't ruffle, but they're still pretty

Don't know what happened, but the wool didn't shrink so the scarf didn't ruffle...and since it was so long, I cut it in two, hemmed them and have them for sale here. They are very lovely, soft and silky to the touch. They measure 9x62 and sell for $35 each. The yarns used are rayon, tencel and merino wool.

Alyssa and Elizabeth Go to Prom!

Attempted Theft

There was an attempted theft of one of the flower pots last night, but they didn't get very far, thank goodness. Now I guess we wait and see if they come back with wire cutters or give up the "easy gardening" to another victim.

First Blush

Our first rose of the season.

Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell

I loved this book.

Gaskell follows the life of Mattie Jenkyns, told from the perspective of a young woman named Mary Smith. Mattie's older sister, Dorothy, dies fairly early in the book and the remainder of the book is about Mattie's relationships with her friends and neighbors and society. They have several adventures including a conjuror, supposed thieves, marriage, love, betrayal, bank failure. But one thing remains constant--good people are appreciated and supported and "win" in the end. Winning doesn't mean that they get rich or have a windfall, but that they are happy.

Gaskell does a wonderful job of creating very life-like and enjoyable characters and presenting a simple story in a manner that did not feel simple. I really enjoyed reading this book and was kind of sad to finish it. I'll watch the mini-series presented by Masterpiece theater in the coming weeks. Looking forward to that as well.

And then 2 more were gone...

In an effort to keep this from happening until there are no more flowers, David has wired all the pots together. How I wish for a night vision camera to catch the thief's surprise when they try to pick up a particular pot and end up with 12 more! Hopefully this will do the trick.

What's missing?

This morning when I opened up the blinds to my front porch I noticed that the prettiest flower pot was missing. Gone. Someone stole our flower pot!