Much better than the last K-9 mystery

Storm Rising
by Sara Driscoll

Maybe my attitude toward Sara Driscoll right now is "can do no wrong," and maybe readers who expect the c vvvcvffffffffffffffffffff

Argh. Cats.

...expect a mystery to have a certain, predictable sequence would think she clearly did much wrong here. But I liked it--it told a story and isn't that the point of books, after all?

If you're wondering what the heck I'm talking about, I'll explain. A traditional mystery has a prologue, a crime, detection leading to a great reveal, and a little wrap-up at the end. If you like some action mixed in, then the great reveal might include the detective being attacked, abducted, or threatened in some scary way. But it's predictable, and you get your thrill in the reveal.

Just suffice it to say that she didn't do it that way. If you demand it, don't read this. But if you are starting to admire the characters and you love her writing, you'll absolutely love this like I did.

Everything going for it except the soppy personal relationships

Burning Ridge
by Margaret Mitzushima

She's not the action writer and her killer's motivation was awfully weak, and at the end, things didn't make much sense. Plus I got a little bored at the heroine's internal woes as she tried to let herself love and be loved.

And after saying those mean, judgemental things, I will happily read another in the series. After all, it had dogs!  And mountains and forests, search-and-rescue, forensics, and veterinary stuff. I wonder if descriptions of the drugs used by the perp were accurate? They were certainly fascinating.

So I'm in two minds about this--it has a lot to recommend it, but if you're looking for a series to fall in love with, probably not. But who knows? Maybe she's just getting started!

Excellent research, good audiobook

The Eating Instinct
by Virginia Sole-Smith

So It's our discomfort, and even disgust, with the "joy of eating" that frightens us. And that's because we've create a culture that tells us in a thousand ways from the time we first start solid foods, that this comfort cannot be trusted--that we cannot be trusted, to know what and how much to eat. We must outsource this judgement to experts who know better. First to our parents, then to teachers, then to food gurus and big brands, who sell us on diets, cleanses, food dogmas and lifestyle changes. We cede our knowledge, our  own personal relationship with food, to an entire world built on the premise that we don't know how to feed ourselves.

She goes on to discuss (in engaging detail) how her own daughter's instinctual ability to feed herself will be eroded over the years by society--by the friends who put their barbie dolls on diets, by well-meaning warnings from parents. And then interviews a lot of people with strange and even scary relationships with food that control their lives.

I admired her research and her writing and her courage in taking on such a "fraught" topic. The stories are heartbreaking, mostly, but bring up issues we need to understand. But I take issue with her notion that we have an "instinctual ability" to feed ourselves. If we ever had such a thing, it's been lost in the 600,000 years of our evolution. We're not rats and haven't been for a long, long time. And I, for one, am at least two generations removed from a basic knowledge of how to find, grow, and cook nutritious food. I don't know--society doesn't know--experts don't even know.

Be prepared for a string of K-9 capers

Before it's too late by Sara Driscoll

Reminder to self:
In this powerful K-9 crime thriller, FBI Special Agent Meg Jennings and her trusted search-and-rescue Labrador, Hawk, must race against the clock before a diabolical killer strikes again 

In my imaginary line between mystery and thriller, I'd put this squarely on the thriller side. Not in a bad, scary way, the way I did with Sara Paretsky's novels after my first two or three, and eventually gave up reading. But in a "wish she hadn't done that" sort of way. Her killer was never portrayed in first person, which I greatly appreciated. But his history left a little too little to the imagination.

Also the--oops. I can't say the other thing that bothered me. But nothing was too much over the line for me not to immediately seek out the next book in the series. Just like the first book in her series, this had great action; plenty of super dog heroics; very erudite mystery and believable deduction; and no coincidences. Also the cops, or rather FBI agents, aren't dopes. That part was kind of the best part. A lot of writers will create great stars like Meg Jennings (FBI Special Agent) and K-9 special operative (Hawk) and pit them against their own management team, but she doesn't. There's conflict, but it's believable.

Slow down, will ya???

Thirst: 2600 Miles to Home
by Heather "Anish" Anderson

It's hard not to tell this lady to get a life! But that would be stupid, she has a life--only not one that many people would recognize as a reasonable way to run out one's days on this planet. And she did try the life that most of us call normal--married with house and day job. It just didn't work for her.

What did work for her were 100-mile runs in the desert, grueling hikes on months long trails. Walking the Appalachian Trial, Pacific Crest Trail, and Continental Divide Trail, then doing the Pacific Crest Train again at a record-setting pace. Despite her speed, she didn't close her eyes to the beauty around her. She didn't hike these trails with both eyes looking down at her watch for days on end. She saw the world around and appreciated it, then trudged on.

It's enjoyable--and a whole lot painful--to read her account of the journey. Or should I call it a race? It felt more like a race. It's not my way to travel nor is it my way to enjoy the world, but that doesn't make it worth the writing of. As I wrote long ago, there are more ways to appreciate the outdoors than looking through the lens of a camera. A lot more.

Gardening in my roots, super roundup

Things are happening out in the garden, but the photographer has been derelict in duty. Any time that could be spent picturing and recording progress, has been frittered away in planting, transplanting, weeding and other non-essential activities. But trust me--it's growing.

We have

beets














black-eyes





















Bok Choy which is for no good reason going to seed already. I'm going to pull it all up today and cook it.








and broccoli, which is doing absolutely nothing but looks very lovely.


















carrots (and a few radishes mixed in)

chard (Swiss chard, if you insist, but why I have to capitalize the S I fail to understand.)

 cucumbers, getting ready to climb that fence









green beans that survived the frost, hurray!

lettuce, lots and lots





onions



























Sugar Snap Peas














close-up to the perfect pea


right before I plucked it

 squash, not yet hit by the squash borers














tomatoes. Too many, if that's possible.











and peppers--never too many!




There are a few miscellany--a ton of cilantro and horseradish that comes up wild; a tiny amount of dill and parsley which hasn't been discovered by the swallowtail caterpillars yet; a bit of sage; a couple of potatoes that were growing leggy in the pantry; some very unhappy garlic that against all rules was planted in the spring; and a few Kohlrabi which aren't growing their bulbs like they're supposed to.
I forgot to mention the very sad eggplant and a few asters I grew from seed.
Also the okra coming up wild all over the place and the zinnas coming up wild from the seed packets I planted last year to get rid of them. Who knows what they will do?

Warning: I'm on a streak of search-and-rescue dog stories

Lone Wolf by Sara Driscoll

Liked it enough to want to read another, but there were so many things I wanted her to do better. The action was fine. The searches were great. The personal relationships and character development were pretty interesting and I hope she continues with the same people and I get to know them better over time.

But (spoiler warning I think), there was a certain shift of perspective that I found cheesy and annoying. Not that I didn't care to learn what the killer was thinking, but not by seeing him and hearing him. It was much more interesting to learn about his personality from how he wrote and how he built the bombs, and the author could have confirmed all these guesses near the end as his identity was uncovered. In this case, show don't tell was a mistake.