When Do You Care About a Book?

I've been reading a lot more since Jim got me my Kindle for Christmas. Have I mentioned how much I love this thing?

As I look back over my book list for 2010, I have to admit I'm a little underwhelmed. I listened to the audio book The Help by Kathryn Stockett and didn't want it to end, but since then I've been on a run of books that I just don't care about.

First, I read "Three Junes" by Julia Glass. I can say that it was well written, sure. But did I care about any of these characters? Nope. Not at all. Well, maybe the guy who died early on who had moved to Greece, but he wasn't around long enough to really mean anything. I kind of didn't even like the book and I definitely wouldn't recommend it. But that's just me.

Now, because my brother pleaded with me, I'm 25% into, "The Passage," by Justin Cronin.

This is apparently a 600 page horror novel, I found out today. All I know is that at 25% in, according to my fabulous Kindle, I don't care. I kind of care about one person, but I could give him up tomorrow for a better book.

I am interested in reading, "The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake," because, well, it's a great title. As one who has equated food with love her whole life, I could weep over the title if I thought about it too long. Oh, wait...that's too much information for you, isn't it?

Anyway, with that, dear friends, I'm asking: what books have you read that you really cared about? What's your favorite book that you've read in the past year that you are glad you did?

I'm in need, gang!

-b

Irons, Fires and Custom Decorative Mirrors, Oh My!

I have a million irons in the fire. At least it feels like it, anyway. As a true Scorpio, I'm really great at getting something started, but finishing takes a little more discipline. No, all that glitters isn't gold, but it still glitters, and I like glitter, darn it.

One iron of late has been making decorative mirrors. Anytime I'd see one, I'd think, "How did they do that?" and when I start asking that question, you can pretty much bet that I'm seeing "glitter." I found everything I needed to know about getting started on the internet, read everything I could, and went to it. Here is one of my first tries:

So, while this is a bit time consuming, it's a nice creative thing to do while I'm trying to come up with new lyrics or melodies. You can imagine how excited I was when the owner of the brand new James Gang Company in Nashville offered to sell some of my work. We've already gotten a few mirrors hung in the "not so general general store," and I'm working on some others. This is so much fun!

Here's one of my favorites so far:

There are some cool green splashes throughout that are hard to photograph. I love it.

Here's one I made as a gift for owner, John Grimes:

And, yes, I forgot about photographing it till I was loading it in the car. Oops. Trust me, it looks amazing over the antique upright piano at the The James Gang Company store.

I'll let you know when John is officially open for business and maybe you can pop in sometime. Thanks for indulging me, friends.

-b

$20

Seems like a small price to pay to get rid of a yucky neighbor, I suppose.

About four weeks ago, Jim and I were working on cutting down some extraneous foilage around the front fence when I heard this voice. "Sir? Sir?" he called from the side of the front yard. "I'm really sorry to bother you."

And the story went. His name is John, he lives behind me, but he had walked around to the side of my front yard to call to us. He works at the garage perpendicular to my street. John weaved an elaborate story about how he was out of gas just down the road and he couldn't get hold of his boss to get any help. He even faked a cell phone call in the middle of the explanation. "See?" he pleaded. Could he just borrow $10 for 20 minutes. "I'll bring it right back."

As a test, Jim brought him a container of gas from the garage.

"Uh, I don't think that's going to do it. It's a really big truck." Okay, big fat liar. Would you like my paycheck, too? Because I'm just here to give away my hard earned money.


Still, I wondered if this might be the ultimate gesture, the be-all end-all opportunity to do a 'right thing.' The gesture which either proved that there is still some good in humanity or the gesture that cemented the word "awkward" between us henceforth. He and I have already had some, er, "quality time" regarding some of his backyard behavior. And, so I handed him $20 in cash. Just gave it to him.

My Dad taught me early to never loan someone money. I either give it to them or I don't, but I never expect it back. I clearly thought this guy was a liar, and so I didn't expect to get the money back.

That was on Sunday. On the following Tuesday I came home to the following note on my front door: I'll be by at 6 P.M to return the money. $20. I'm sorry it has taken a few days longer to get it back to you. Please call me at (insert fake number here.) John

At 5:50 PM on Wednesday, John revved up his truck and pulled out. I haven't seen him since. That was four weeks ago.

My friend Patty says the best way to get rid of somebody is to loan them money. Seems like it is working.

-b

Freaks and Weirdos Welcome, but Blogged About

I haven't been to a public pool in the summer aside from the ones at the beach hotels in years. I'd guess I was in the 3rd or 4th grade the last time. You can imagine my apprehension over my recent visit. Granted the pool was part of a member's only type place, but still.

As I sat uncomfortably in my white plastic chair peering over the top of my Kindle, I categorized my fellow pool goers as one of four groups.

First, we had the Normals. These are the people who came quietly, snagged a chair, and lost themselves in a great summer read. They may have gotten up and taken a quick dip in the cool water, but they mostly stayed in their chosen seats. These people felt no need to leave a big impression. I guess you could say they were my kind of people.

Next, we had the Paraders. My, my, my. Some of these people should just grab a baton and get on with it. Oh, for just a thimble of the self-confidence Flower-Trunk-Guy possessed. I heard a lady a few chairs down from me heckle to another particularly proud middle-aged man, "We get it already. Now sit down!"

Then you had the Lappers. Why use the mostly vacant indoor pool to swim your laps at 2 o'clock in the afternoon on the weekend when you can go outdoors and make everybody move so you can have one whole length of the pool to yourself? And, then, go ahead and yell at the innocent ladies who dared to float into your path. Because you're every bit the Michael Phelps you think you are, Coach.

The final category, and I suppose my most favorite, was the SCUBA diver. Granted there was only one participant in this group, he made the biggest impression by far. By far. With a heat index of 104 degrees, Dude walked out to the crowded pool with a full wetsuit (long pants and long sleeves), full head cover, goggles, flippers and oxygen tank. Little kids actually ran screaming to their mothers. He walked to the pool steps, lowered himself into the 3 foot water, and disappeared.

Makes you think, doesn't it?

-b