July, July, ,July

There’s a saying about bees in July, how they aren’t worth a fly (whereas bees in June and May have actual value). On the other hand, a picture is always worth something, no matter what month it is taken in.

          I actually picked this up (dead bee and all) and carried it inside to show it off. I don’t particularly like bugs, and sometimes dead bugs are even creepier than live ones, but it was worth it.
           I’ve finally read, for the very first time, The Old Man and the Sea. And three random novels  have also been duly devoured. I’ve three more books, plus the ones I put on hold, and then I’ll go back to the guardian challenge. The three books are non-fiction, which sadly makes things go much slower at the beginning. But I think they’ll be very interesting once I actually start them. I know I read way too much fiction, and from the juvenile section too, and I’m hoping I can mature my taste gradually over the next decade. Yes, I’m still idealistic enough to think taste can mature.
            Reading is so nice and relaxing, and I haven’t been doing enough of it these past few years. I’m afraid I’ve become something of a couch potato. In fact, besides a few online obligations, I’ve had nothing to do all summer until a few weeks ago when I finally got a part time job. It’s the best job imaginable. I get to hang out with two of the cutest boys you ever saw, while playing with an incredibly intelligent girl. They’re triplets, and they’re about sixteen months old. You can imagine how difficult it would be to raise three children all at the same time, but witnessing it makes all the difference. Even simple chores, like groccery shopping, become complicated.
             I wanted to end this post with a picture of the carnival my family went to  a few weeks ago, but I think I’ll show it to you next time instead. Oooh, I have a lot to catch you up on. I better get busy, huh?

Self Infliction, or the Guardians Challenge

 Sometime ago, about two five weeks I’d guess, I stumbled upon a book blog and discovered the Guardian Challenge. The Guardian is a british paper that has published a list of 1000 novels which they think are the best of the best. The idea of the challenge is to read 10 novels from the list  (1%), with at least one book from each of the seven sections (comedy, family, love, state of the nation, sci-fi/fantasy, and crime). A day spent on the library’s website and a short jaunt out to pick up my my holds and I was in business. My choices were pretty random, and I only checked out five to begin with, but I thought I’d review some of them for you just for fun (Photos courtesy of Amazon). 

A Room With A View by E.M. Forster
Set partly in Italy and Partly in the English countryside, this book really made me want to travel. It was enjoyable to read, with lots of description and digressions-which-were-not. That is, a lot of the book wasn’t actual dialogue but a summary of dialogue written in a general way as if it were unimportant to the plot. Plot is an interesting word to use in accordance with this book because one didn’t get the feeling that the book was about the plot. The first half seemed a commentary on the rules of propriety; though the author never says a word against the rules, the reader cannot help thinking some of them just make things worse. The second half was definitely more story-oriented, but it too makes the characters seem like a backdrop for something else. Some idea or philosophy that you can’t quite put your finger on. I think this is why I didn’t like this book. I mean, I liked reading it, but I didn’t like it. I prefer a story, I suppose, and I couldn’t shake the vague feeling that this book wasn’t about the story. The characters were slightly alien to me too. Sometimes they did things that seemed completely out there. Their reactions to certain events made no sense to me. (Cecil thanking Lucy was particularly odd). I’d recommend this book, because it was enjoyable to read (I’ll probably read it again. Eventually), but I wouldn’t buy it.
                               Silas Marner by George Eliot

                    After reading the backcover of this book I realized I had seen a movie remake of it, with Steve Martin no less. I’d advise all people interested to read the book first and then watch the movie – The book needs all the suspense you can give it. Like Forster’s book, this one’s plot was pretty simple. When I say that I do not mean to say it was bad or to otherwise disparage its worth,  I’m merely trying to explain what it feels like reading it. Most of the “adult” books I’ve read have been from the sci-fi/fantasy genre and involve an intricate weaving of plot, setting, and characters. This book weaves those things together too, but the whole feel is simplicity. The historical setting, for instance, was understated and would have totally gone over my head if I had not been reading an edition which mentioned it over and over agin in the forward.
              The book is only 176 pages long, but even so it has very few actual events and quite a lot of character-oriented introspection. There is a whole chapter of country dialogue, complete with accent and unique grammar structure, which has no effect on the plot. Even the men who are talking are little more than names, so that it is more an insight into village thought than into the minds of specific people in a specific village. Because there is not much dialogue, and even less action, I found it hard to care for most of the characters. For all that, the book was okay. Rather like oatmeal, neither overwhelmingly bad nor astoundingly good, but neutral with overtones grayness. But every now and then there would be a sentence that made me smile. I especially loved this one:

“In that moment the mother’s love pleaded for painful consciousness rather than oblivion –  pleaded to be left in aching weariness, rather than to have the encircling arms benumbed so that they could not feel the dear burden.”

(Dis)May

“Authors…. As much creatures of the reader’s imagination as the characters in their books.”

– Alan Bennett, The Uncommon Reader

I stare around me in equal parts delight and dismay. The first month of summer (as the school year has taught us to call it) has been and gone, with only memories too prove it existed. Here are my vital signs to prove I have been virtually active during this period of blog silence:
Favorite song on Pandora: Laura Gibson’s “Hands in Pockets’ – I love the lines “So goes another winter slowly/ Hands in the pocket of my coat.” The whole song invokes the feeling of fortitude one must draw on to get oneself through the cold school days that seem to last so long. Now that it’s summer I can enjoy the coolness of the melody even more.
Recommended Blog: The Family Trunk Project – this is, at first glance, a knitting blog maintained by a designer. But the premise of the blog, as suggested in the title, is unique. The author is slowly designing a pieces of clothing for each of her parents, grandparents, etc. Reading how she translates her relatives’ characteristics into knitting is interesting no matter how you look at it. But even if you couldn’t care less for textiles, you should definitely Open The Family Trunk and take a peek at her history. One day, I am confident, she will inspire me to get acquainted with my own relatives.
              I have also been making waves on the crafty front. I’ve made an apron (which still needs to be re-hemmed and buttoned) and I’ve received the yarn for the February Lady Sweater. I’m making it out of a beautiful french blue linen yarn know as Euroflax. If you are  familiar with this yarn and this pattern you may be wondering what I’m thinking. Do not fear, I’m prepared to make drastic changes to the pattern with the help of my calculator and ruler. But first my needles have to arrive. Theo has already started her summer cardigan project. It’s not a race of course, but I’m going to have to knit fast to catch up.

Hero…. or Hopeless

“Hold on,” he said, stopping the car, “I’ll have to open that door for you.”

“Oh. It’s child-locked.” I said, simply, as I stared at the door, hoping it would reveal it’s secrets.
“Well, kind of.” He replied , opening the door for me to hop out of. “It’s to keep people in  who don’t want to come quietly.”
I nodded. It made sense for a police car.
   I finally got my bike back today. It has been chained up for two weeks, but since I’m going home I kind of need it. There’s no day like the last day to visit the local police station and see if they have a bike-chain snipper. I wish I could’ve gotten a picture of those babies. They were probably as long as my arm is from the shoulder to the fingers, and the head, the cutting part, was a little bigger than my hand. They were huge, and they cut through the plastic and braided metal of my chain easily enough. At least, it looked easy when the young policeman did it.
           My next post will be from home concerning home (hopefully with pictures). I’l leave you with the knowledge that I have started a new sock project: pink and brown jaywalkers.

Copeland

“Eat, Sleep, Repeat.”

That’s not where I am. I saw it on the back of a car today and thought it was funny, but it’s not where I am. I’m still in Focuscity. I’ve a lot, lot, lot to do, and very little mind to do it with. I’m moving! I’ll be back here on this hill in a few months, but until then I’m going back to my parents home. I can’t wait to take my baby sister in my arms and give her a great big squeeze. Then there will be the shocking flow of words form my other sister, and a calm steadiness from her older  brother. Or the flashy wit of his older brother, and the teenage confidence of the alpha brother. I’m looking forward to getting reacquainted with all of them, but I’ll miss this place too.
           I’ll miss the way the sunset is painting the bottom of the clouds orange. And how even now, when I look over at the distant mountains, I can half believe there’s a golden sea just behind them, complete with inlets and islands. The weather has been a little strange today, as it is most days here, but I say it all worked out for the best.