and a killer poodle

Fifty acres and a poodle

A Story of Love, Livestock, and Finding Myself on a Farm

by Jeanne Marie Laskas

The poodle was good. Also the mule, the horse, the ladybugs, and even the invasive multiflora briars. Loved the neighbors and workmen, especially Billy and all the Joes. Billy is a hoot--

"When I was a kid, everybody took a gun to school," he says. "Not with the intention of shooting anybody. But just to kill supper on the way home. What else was there to do with your spare time?"
"Um, well, we watched TV," I say meekly. "Did you ever see Green Acres?"
He smiles. "I'm a little older than you," he says. "But I've seen reruns."

One funny thing--I noticed after finishing that the entire story is written in present tense. Present tense usually annoys me, but I didn't even notice it. But possibly, just possibly, that's why I found the book so easy to put down and so hard to pick up again.

The author's interior dialog and attempts to relate her struggle with aloneness just didn't grip me. They seemed to be repetitive, unchanging, and boring. And sadly, (having to admit a defect of my character here) I found myself skipping or skimming those parts. Frequently I skipped too far and missed some of the good stuff. Which sucked.

But the book didn't suck. It was great. Laugh-out loud a couple of times and excruciatingly painful only twice when it had to be.

Gotta get me some omega-3s!

The Queen of Fats:

Why Omega-3s Were Removed from the Western Diet and What We Can Do to Replace Them

by Susan Allport

Didn't quite fit the subtitle -- the topic of "Why Omega-3s Were Removed from the Western Diet" was a very small part of the whole. In a nutshell, here's why: they oxidize faster (aka go rancid), which makes them more expensive to preserve in processed food--it's cheaper to remove them. The experts in the early days didn't know they were important--fat is fat, right? And it took a long time before they realized the importance. And as we well know, our food industry is a business, not a non-profit. If people aren't demanding it and willing to pay for it, we don't get it.

A better subtitle would have been something like "the slow but exciting discovery of the essential need for Omega-3s in the diet--and why nobody cares." Because that's what the story was all about--by the time researchers actually had some evidence about the subject, western consumers had seen so many fat fads come and go, that finally, when there is some actual evidence, they're too tired to care.

can you blame 'em? My parent's generation (in the 1950's) were told to quit eating butter, lard, and egg yolks because of the bad animal fats and cholesterol. They were to substitute the 'good fats' from plant oils. My generation (the 1980's) were told to avoid all fats and switch to high-carb. My kid's generation (2000's) were told to restrict the carbs but load up on saturated vegetable fats and lean animal fats, with an occasional side of bacon. It's clearly a game of good fat/bad fat, right?

It shouldn't have been, because it should have been obvious to anyone who took a minute to look at the numbers--American's fat consumption has been steadily decreasing but our rate of heart disease has not--and we're fatter than ever. There never was and never will be a causal relationship between the quantity of fat consumption and bad health.  Just as there never was a causal relationship between dietary cholesterol and blood cholesterol. (To make matters worse, blood cholesterol levels have never been demonstrated to be linked to heart disease.)  As usual, it's like this: people make up shit and other people believe it.

But not this book. It's about people who were determined to get to the truth, wherever it led. And it's about where the truth did lead them.

And one more thing, in case you read this blurb but never read the book: Omega-6 and Omega-3 fatty acids are both essential to human health. This is not a speculation--there is real, evidence, of many kinds. It is also known that adding omega-3 fatty acids to the diet can improve babies' vision and brain development, and can slow down or reverse adult heart disease.

 Is the "cause" of heart disease a deficiency of omega-3s? Probably not. But is the cause of conflicting nutrition advice our human tendency to over-simplify the complex? Most likely.

Almost very good

Legal Tender
by Lisa Scottolini

An action heroine for our times, and a lawyer. Weird, huh? Co-owner of a law firm that's making money to boot. But unfortunately, one night after a fairly hard day she goes out rowing--sculling if you will--all by herself, just at the time when a certain someone is being murdered.

And she's the prime suspect.

Where she goes from there is anyone's bet but I'll tell you one thing--she's not a wimp nor stupid. She knows how to get dressed and put on makeup in a public restroom, then walk into a law office like she owns it. Which she does, technically, just under a slightly different hair color.

Good, almost very good.

State of the Garden, mid-October

Not really. All I can say is the broccoli have succumbed to insects after the heat and drought stress, and the kale doesn't look much better. I've not been taking care of them--I've been off looking at Other Peoples Gardens. For shame!

This is a lovely little peninsula they made into a garden! I don't know the history of it but I do know it's worth the trip.  Even in fall--pumpkins, chrysanthemums and coneflowers abounded and even some flower I would have thought done for the season, like begonia. But they're having the same unseasonable heat as we are.






My favorite!  The fairy garden -->











And good sandwiches in the snack bar, too! No pic--gobbled it down before the camera could come out.

Lost and darn near forgotten, but fascinating

Lost Christianities: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew

by Bart D. Ehrman

I hadn't planned to finish reading this, but...it just happened. It was so very readable.

When I originally put it on the to-read list back in January, I was fresh off a couple of other books on the subject. But now I've grown a little bored with the subject--not to say that it's a boring subject. And not to say it's not a great book--it is, or I wouldn't have finished it. Mr. Ehrman is working on questions like these--did Christianity start out homogeneous and later became diverse; what happened to all the offshoots of the early religious communities; where did their writings go and what do we know of what they were all about; and most interesting, why did orthodox catholicism "win" and all other sects lose? The  last chapter has some very interesting thoughts on that latter question.

Anticipation not rewarded

When choosing a book to read, I try not to read too many reviews. If the publisher's blurb sounds interesting and the Goodreads community star rating is 4 or above, that's enough--I add it to my list and preview no more.

The 'official' review for The Princess Diarist starts off thus:

The Princess Diarist is Carrie Fisher’s intimate, hilarious and revealing recollection of what happened behind the scenes on one of the most famous film sets of all time, the first Star Wars movie.

I stopped right there and sent it straight to the to-read shelf.

But the review goes on...

Fisher also ponders the joys and insanity of celebrity, and the absurdity of a life spawned by Hollywood royalty, only to be surpassed by her own outer-space royalty.

Also, he says?  How about, almost entirely?!?!?

Now, my general approach to writing my own "reviews" is this: if 24,000 people have already reviewed a book, then you doesn't need mine. I can write whatever I want; I don't have to stay on topic,  be objective, or even stick to the facts. I simply have to report why I loved or hated the book.

But not this time. I consider it my duty to make a few corrections to the official review.

The book starts off with a little biographical information. Then it relates her interview for the role in Star Wars and her reaction to being chosen. At this point I'd gotten accustomed to her writing style and was even little charmed by it--it was like an aimless amble around a poorly planned goat trail through the brambles of her brain.

Then the book relates in excruciating detail how she ended up sleeping with a certain person. Then it goes on and on and on and ON about that person and her feelings about him. When that topic is sufficiently beat into the ground, the author's narration abruptly ceases and another voice starts reading from the actual diaries. They were about the same as any diaries written by any other teenager of any day and age...although I suspect some of the entries were written under the influence of a mild hallucinogen. Even when they weren't confusing dreams with reality, they were pretty lame listening to the person outside her head.

I had to start skipping at that point. I'm not so big a fan that I really want to listen to stream of consciousness, fever dreams, or random ramblings of anybody's brain anytime.

Eventually Ms. Fisher's narration resumed. She jumped to the present time and began relating the things fans said to her while she was signing autographed pictures at comic cons. Mixed in with the inane chatter were her own thoughts and reactions. Random, amusing, and interesting.  Very interesting--for about two minutes. Then it was enough already!

And that's all. Nothing else about the movies or the making of them, behind the scenes or otherwise. My recommendation for my friends is this: borrow the book, read the first few chapters and skim a little of the rest. Sorry.

So very adorably British!

Thus Was Adonis Murdered

Sometimes authors of detective fiction will attempt to enhance their mystery by pretending that they are as ignorant of the outcome as the readers are. Not so for Professor Hilary Tamar--she modestly admits on page one
that,

If the events in which Julia Larwood became involved last September had not been subject to the penetrating scrutiny of the trained scholar--that is to say, my own--well, I do not say it is certain that Julia would even now be languishing in a Venetian prison.

(But she would)

Fans of P.G. Wodehouse and Dorothy Sayers should give this a try--Ms. Caldwell has somehow managed to capture the wry wit of the British in a tangled weave of mystery, motive, and murder. But in true detective form, the mystery is unraveled through pure attention to fact--not psychological mumbo-jumbo, motive analysis, or from the killer making a second attempt when the detective gets too close to the truth. I really hate the latter--you know those books where the "detective" stumbles around blindly until he happens to trip over the murderer's big feet and gets shot at? This is NOT one of those. There are no fortuitous confessions, either. Pure logic, observation and deduction rule the day.

I even suspect that if I'd been a more careful reader and not got distracted with the comedy, I'd have figured out the clues myself. But I was in too much of a hurry to get to the next funny part--and it was indeed very funny. And distressingly erudite.

Let me just mention that a few readers were put-off by the writing style--they complained about things like "big words" and "run-on sentences". Silly! That's the whole point! If you can't make yourself slow down and enjoy the language, you should get the audiobook.

Beautiful absolutely...and all in their heads

 

Traveling With Pomegranates: A Mother-Daughter Story

by Sue Monk Kidd and,Ann Kidd Taylor


How come Sue Monk Kidd gets dreams that are relevant, foreboding, and full of symbolism, while I get dreams about not being able to find my car? Is my car a symbol of my independence and I'm afraid I might lose it? Wow! Maybe there's something to this dream analysis thing after all. And I really need to get one of those car finder key fobs.

But despite her incessant and sometimes unconvincing interludes of "I woke from a dream...", I loved this book and adored the authors--Sue Monk Kidd and her daughter Ann Kidd Taylor. They're going through exactly the same existential crises that I am--and dealing with them better. Pretty much everyone goes through crises like these, except maybe people who have to struggle with basic human needs on a day-to-day basis. The questions are: Why was I rejected? What am I going to do with my life? How do I face the end of life? Just who am I, anyway?

Maybe not as globally important as, Why are people born? Why do they die? and why do they spend so much of the intervening time wearing digital watches? But the questions recur and go on recurring and a person can spend a lifetime searching for the answers.

That's what I took away from this book--answering those hard questions is a process and a journey, not an arrival. It's not a sudden flash or a single, life-shattering insight--it's a lot of life-shattering insights. And I admire both authors tremendously in the way they searched for meaning and shared their journey with the rest of us. Applause!

One thing I'd like to discuss with Ms. Kidd, though. In her struggle with our society's denial of the 'old woman', did she ever read up on native American mythology? Sure, I can't argue that in our shallow 'modern' culture, the old woman is perceived as worthless, weak, and should-be invisible. Once past childbearing age, women have no role to play in society. Funny, isn't it, that women could once choose a career of 'childrearing' and consider themselves fulfilled? It's a career--until the children leave. Then it's nothing. If the kids don't move back home with grandchildren, there is nothing left to do but sit in a rocking chair and knit afghans.

Not Spider Grandmother. She brought the gift of fire; taught the art of weaving; stood up to Coyote when he did magical mischief. I am not myself a native American but I think it's time we rejected the testosterone-driven patriarchal society of Christianity and bring back the wise old women of yore. The Kidds have their Virgin Mary--I have my Spider Grandmother.

A wild ride indeed

No Baggage:

A Minimalist Tale of Love and Wandering

by Clara Bensen
 

The book jacket says: One dress, three weeks, eight countries--zero baggage.
And that's it! She carried a purse with a small assortment of personal care items, two pairs of underwear, a phone, a passport, and a tube of Chapstick.

I'll leave the suspense for the reader, but let me just remark that in spite of the lightness of her physical load, she carried the full load of emotional baggage.  I came to love this not-so-crazy lady taking a wild leap into the unknown with a partner as scared of commitment as she was. Or maybe he was scareder--he wouldn't even commit to a hotel reservation. Or a tube of toothpaste.

It ends up as a lovely love story...somewhere between surrender, contest and compromise, with bad hygiene thrown in for comic relief:

[in Istanbul] It briefly occurred to me that I had no idea which continent I was on as I battled my flight-rumpled hair in the bathroom....
Jeff and I would have to skip the early, always-look-attractive stage of dating...the roots of my hair were dark-tinged with grease. my eyes were dim crescents. My dress smelled like stale fingers on airplane cushions. My armpits had begun their gradual descent into bacterial petri dishes. Oh well.

I have to admit I was getting a bit dizzy halfway. So many places in so little time! But a surprising depth in her growing self-knowing kept me reading. I appreciate many authors who share their travels with me, but I especially thank you, Ms. Benson.  Journey on!

State of the Garden Report, October but still summer

The "cold front" was a bust. It's very likely to be in the 90s again next week. My Bok Choy likes it hot!

And the pumpkins!





             This little mystery --->> 
appears to be Hairy Vetch, one of my winter cover crops.




And this fellow is a gem. Every time I moved the camera to take a picture, he shuffled around to the opposite site of his pepper. Finally I got the bright idea of holding the camera still in one hand and using the other hand to tease him out of hiding. But he never let go!













But wait--breaking news--all of a sudden the forecast is for mid-eighties with a chance of rain. There may be hope.

He goofed on the opposable thumb, but the rest is rock solid

Second Nature: a Gardener's Education
by Michael Pollan

If you're a gardener, you'll enjoy this very much. If not, you probably won't read it. But that's a shame because he has a bit to say about man's place in nature and nature's place in the man-made world.  Short answer: front and center.

One sad little passage describes a small forest of old-growth white pines trees that were destroyed by a tornado. The nearby town had to decide what to do--harvest the timber and replant the pines; replant another species of tree; burn the area over to encourage the pine seeds to germinate; or do nothing in reverence for natural processes. But that latter was not an option, because the dead timber created a fire hazard that would endanger nearby houses.

One approach to this problem would have been to have a town meeting and let everyone have their say. You might have to have a human spokesman stand in for the birds and animals who occupied the forest. And when everyone had spoken, everyone would work together to choose a solution.

Sad to say, this approach wasn't taken. The "owners" of the forest--The nature Conservancy--chose to take the natural approach and didn't invite discussion. They were forced to allow a fire break to be dug all around. Spoiler alert--so a beautiful grove of pines is now a weed-choked field surrounded by an ugly ditch.

Leave it to mankind to jump on simple solutions ("let nature take her course") to complex problems. For one thing, it wasn't a wilderness to begin with. For another, what guarantee do we have that native species will regenerate the land and not the Norway Maple, an invasive species?  What if a heavy rain washes out all the topsoil and trees can never grow there again? We. Just. Don't. Know.

Nature has no grand design for this place. An incomprehensively various and complex set of circumstances--some of human origin, but many not--will determine the future of Cathedral Pines. And whatever the future turns out to be, it would not unfold in precisely the same way twice.

I can't repeat the entire argument here, but I urge you to seek it out and read it yourself. You'll come off a little wiser about the cheap, easily digestible fables about "natural succession" vs. "human desire", and you'll think a little more carefully about human's place in nature--neither above it, beneath it, or even outside of it. We're right in there and we need to accept that and go with the flow.

This episode of insight only occupies a small section in the book--the rest is pure entertainment. He talks about the snobbery of rose fanciers--I never dreamed that the "tea rose" was a irreverent upstart, not worthy of the notice of the stately, long-lived and well pedigreed old garden roses. He does a survey of garden catalogs, from exclusively snooty to novelty upstart to ecologically aware. And he cracked up when he independently discovered the reason why I plant seeds in rows. (Hint: try weeding a 4x4' square of scattered, mixed seeds of radishes, spinach, and kale.)

note: his opposable thumb quote below was wrong--most apes have one--

according to the anthropologists, it was the opposed thumb that gave us an edge over the apes and supplied the basis for civilization.

Wish he'd included mockingbirds and robins

Unseen city:

The Majesty of Pigeons, the Discreet Charm of Snails & Other Wonders of the Urban Wilderness 

by Nathanael Johnson

Perfect airplane/boat/train/[your choice here] reading. Light, short, and engaging; plus and you get to learn the mathematical pattern of a snail's shell, the reason pigeons usually have deformed feet, and the appeal of stinky ginkgo trees.

Warn your co-travelers before starting--you're going to be interrupting them with annoying informational tidbits. You'll become the "Did you know...?" bore in the break room. I didn't read it while traveling but I did sneak it in during restroom trips at work. In this way I spared my coworkers the "did you know...?" interruption; they would have caught on if every time I returned from the restroom I was determined to share a new, enticing tidbit.

He has one important point to make. Why do we revere the natural world only when it occurs far away from human habitation? Shouldn't we give a glance or two of admiration for the plants and animals that learn to live with us? They're pretty smart, you know, to figure out what humans are up to and stay out of their way while getting on with their own lives. Or sometimes, to even wheedle what they want out of us.

One thing for sure--you'll never again tee off a crow.