Tag: books

Christmas Recap

Doright Manor was too quiet this Christmas. Studly Doright and I had gotten together with our kids and grandchildren in Texas at Thanksgiving, so we had to suck it up and spend Christmas without them. I’m going to be honest and tell you, Christmas for just us two isn’t much fun.

We tried to be as festive as possible. We took in a movie on Christmas Eve and then drove around Tallahassee to view the holiday lights, returning home to open gifts from each other. We’d agreed neither of us needed any big gifts this year, so I bought Studly books (he really isn’t a reader, but I always hold out hope), and T-shirts featuring vintage motorcycle brands.

He bought me Star Wars stuff: a Resistance leader’s jacket, a BB-8 handbag, and several pieces of jewelry in the shapes of light sabers and droids. So if anyone in Tallahassee sees a late middle aged woman sporting any of the aforementioned gear, you can be fairly certain it’s me. Say hello and we’ll go find some First Order thugs to put in their place before heading for coffee.

Our dinner on Christmas Day was outstanding, even if I do say so myself. I ran Studly out of the house to work in his shop, opened a bottle of Chardonnay, and made a meal for the ages. I’m a much better cook when fueled by wine, and that’s a fact. Studly went back for seconds and thirds which I took as the highest compliment. And the pecan pie, oh my word! It was one of the best ever. Studly said I was going to have to stop telling people what an awful cook I am.

We went to another movie after dinner, getting home much later than is our norm (10 p.m! Absolutely decadent!) and then spent a quiet post-Christmas Tuesday. I had planned and executed the perfect turkey and cheddar sandwich on soft white bread for dinner, while Studly warmed up the leftover turkey and dressing for a repeat of Christmas Day’s meal.

So, while nothing exciting happened, and we missed being with our children, we had a pleasant holiday. I’m writing this on Tuesday evening and thinking I might have to have one more piece of pecan pie. Wednesday’s post most likely will deal with how none of my pants will button. Exciting stuff. Stay tuned.

Peace, people!

Read it Again, Ma’am

I read all the time. If I could no longer read for some reason I’m sure I’d wither away and die. Oh sure, I could listen to books on tape, and I suppose I could make do, but there’s something magical about the way a reader interacts with a book that a recording can’t replicate.

My taste these days runs to science fiction/fantasy, but I’m always looking for some new delicacy regardless of genre. And then there are my favorites. These are books I’ve read more than once, and for someone like me who’s always looking for the next literary thrill this repeat reading is the highest compliment I can pay a book.

So what select books are among my repeats?

1) To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee is number one. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve delved into the world of Scout Finch, and I read it at least once a year in the fall.

2) Stephen King’s, The Stand, is a close second. The epic tale of good versus evil still gives me chills, and I become suspicious of any sniffle or cough, certain that Captain Trips is about to wipe out most of humanity.

3) A Separate Peace, by John Knowles, comes in third, and I can’t really say why. There’s something about this coming of age story that draws me in. My heart aches for these boys on the brink of manhood and all of the pitfalls awaiting them. If I pick up my well worn copy when I’m dusting or otherwise moving stuff around I can’t help but begin reading it again.

4) I’ve read all but one of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series multiple times, having read the series from the beginning every time a new book in the series was released. So I’ve read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone seven times, while I’ve only read Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows once.

I’ve recently added a new book to those deemed worthy of a rereading. This book, The Whistling Season, by Ivan Doig, is the first book that comes to mind when a friend asks for a recommendation. So when I didn’t have a new book in the queue, I thought it might be time to remember why I recommend it so often.

The Whistling Season is set in Montana in 1909. A widower with three sons takes on a housekeeper whose ad, “Can’t cook, but doesn’t bite” intrigues him. The widower and his sons get much more than they bargained for when Rose and her brother, Morrie come into their lives.

This book is an homage to education and the one room school house, and to a time when life was a bit slower, but no less complicated than it is today. The language is incredible and the story so compelling I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to reread it.

Those are mine. What books have you read repeatedly? I’m always looking for my next favorite. Looking forward to suggestions.

Peace, people!

A Suggested Guide for Reading in 2017

I found this reading checklist on Facebook and thought it was worth sharing. 


Wouldn’t it be fun to tackle the list in order? I’ve needed to shake up my reading pattern for awhile, and this might be the ticket. Anyone care to join me? We could discuss our choices at the end of every second week.

Peace, and good reading, people.

Outlander Angst

I started book seven of the Outlander series today. Those of you who urged me to read Diana Gabaldon’s epic tale of love, lust, war, and time travel should be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves. Before entering the universe occupied by Jamie (sigh!) and Claire, I was relatively normal. 

And, when pressed as to why I hadn’t read the books, being the avid reader that I am, I’d smirk, “I don’t read romance novels,” in a slightly condescending voice. 

Then one day I panicked, having found myself without a book queued up on my Amazon wish list, and so to pacify my earnest Outlander loving friends I placed an order for that first book on kindle. I’ve not been the same since.

From the outset it was clear that the first book, from whence the series takes its name, was more than a simple romance novel. There was complexity here, and, well, time travel. I read science fiction and fantasy, so this was right up my alley. 

In the middle of the third book of the series, Voyager, something shifted. I began dreaming about the characters, not just as they are in the books, but as if we were interacting in real time. We’d have full-blown conversations. In addition I began thinking in a Scottish accent. Please tell me I’m not nuts. 

Now, at the beginning of book seven, I’m on the verge of a breakdown. At present, there are eight books in the series. I’m on the next to the last one. 

The books are long, and I am not a fast reader. Jamie (sigh!) and Claire will be with me for at least another month. Even so, that special heartache of knowing I’m in the final stages of a great series has set in. I can’t put the book down, thus I soon will have nothing left of Jamie (sigh!) and Claire.


And if anyone suggests I watch the televised version of the series, I will slap them. After all, I don’t watch romance!

Peace, people.

Room for Words

  
Grandiose refuge

For readers of every ilk

Free ideas here!

  
Homespun collection

Cozy repository

Infinite value.

  

 
Enter worlds of words

With reverent abandon

Viva libraries!

Tree Heaven

 I guess I’m responsible for thousands of smiling trees. I wonder how they feel about e-readers? Relief? Survivor’s Guilt?  
Peace, people. 

Woman Before A Mirror

Picasso’s “Girl Before a Mirror”

selfies:
one of the kardashians, kanye’s wife,
kim, published a coffee table book around her favorite
selfies.

hundreds
of pictures of kim, provocative, poised,
playful, compiled for public perusal,
appropriately titled
“selfish.”

i did not
purchase this book; however, i wonder
if it could be used as a template for my own book of
selfies.

so far, of
the twelve selfies in my iphone, only
two do not render my visage as a distorted picasso
painting.

much work remains.

 

From Kim Kardashian’s book, “Selfies.”
 
 
The author, giving a sneak preview of her book of selfies.

Peace, people! 

Copyright 2016. All rights reserved by Leslie Noyes.

Note: I have no connection at all to Picasso, nor to Kim Kardashian, never have been or intend to make any monies or free lunches on the back of this post, and to my knowledge was never a model for Picasso or for Kim.

Just One More Chapter?

  

read to me mommy
one more chapter pretty please?
then i’ll go to sleep

  

once upon a time
a fierce kitty caught her tail
sweet dreams sweet kitten

Nekkid and Skeert

Picture this: A man and a woman, strangers to one another, agree to try to survive in a harsh environment for a period of 21 days. Naked. While being captured on film. 

This is an actual television series in the U.S. 

occasionally participants construct crude clothing; other times they just get blurry in their privates. It’s a disease, I think.

Each participant is allowed to bring one tool or accessory to facilitate their survival. I’d bring a gun to kill the huge snakes in the dark jungle. So far no one’s done that. Perhaps guns are against the rules, or perhaps bullets would count as a second tool.

Typically each couple experiences extreme dehydration, epic weight loss due to starvation, and emotional angst at being naked with a stranger. 

Ok, I made that last part up, but I imagine my attempt at being on Naked and Afraid might go something like this:

Nekkid and Skeert

Stranger Joe: So, what tool did you bring?

Me: A book.

Joe: A book! That’s not a tool!

Me: (Whacks Joe upside the head with my book) Oh really?

Joe: Ok! I guess you made your point. I brought an axe. 

Me: I guess that’ll work. Just don’t ask to use my book. Guess we need to dispense with our clothes. You first.

Joe: (strips) Your turn.

Me: (strips)

Joe: Ha! Ha! Oh my gosh! Can’t Unsee THAT!!! (Drops axe on foot; loses two toes)

Medical crew steps in and takes Joe to the nearest emergency room.

I wander in the wilderness for 21 days, reading my book and munching on berries, occasionally fending off snakes and lizards. In the process I lose 22 lbs. and find my inner goddess.

Peace, people!

Collections

there is a diverse cluster of angels
arranged in an vague approximation
of a semi-circle on the third shelf
of a bookcase in my living room.

the tallest among the collection,
a beautiful Isabel Blume piece
soars among her sisters, holding
high a pink ribbon of survival.
a gift from my daughter, the angel
commands and deserves center stage.

her siblings provide clues to
places visited by my friends and me.
a brightly colored fabric angel hails
from guatemala. she is plump and
comforting and is the only seraphim
I know who sports black pigtails.

two cherubim, one tiny and one merely
small, serenely smile, clutching plaster
lambs to their white plaster chests.
another guatemalan angel, created from
old, rolled sheet music soundlessly
sings praises to heaven above.

there are several others gathered there,
some sitting on books. i imagine they
read late into the night so from time
to time i rearrange them for variety.
one inexplicably holds a marble. i have
no idea where the marble came from, but
it seems appropriate in the angel’s hands.