Catching Up

I've just been writing about books, but you are due a life update. I'm going to do it based on what is on my camera roll.

I spent a glorious part of an afternoon wandering around the University of Pennsylvania campus. Here's what you need to know. The campus is GORGEOUS and there are SO MANY PEOPLE wandering around on foot. Since COVID, our campus is basically dead, so this was shocking to me. I cannot stress how pretty the campus is. 

Also, Philly has a reputation for people being assholes and I have to admit that while most Philadelphians I met were lovely and welcoming, there were more assholes per capita than in any other place I've ever been. I was shoulder checked on the sidewalk multiple times and the guy on the train was really short with me when I could not produce my ticket in 0.3 seconds. But, honestly, most people were generous and excited to show me their city.

It is the City of Brotherly Love, I guess. 

My conference was at the Penn Museum, which has lovely grounds and you would not believe how fabulous conference spaces and classrooms. 

When you walk in, you are greeted with a sphinx.

This is the room where we ate all our meals. Look, I was not expecting any of this based on the conference description. If I had known it was going to be like this, I would have been way more excited about the conference instead of absolutely dreading it. 

Moving on. 

After the gorgeous day, it rained and rained and rained. I had packed an umbrella, but it broke upon leaving the museum right before my 1.3 mile walk to my hotel. I stopped at a random bookstore (I think it was Drexel's bookstore?) and purchased this umbrella, which my husband helpfully told me is in support of the Philadelphia Phillies. I guess I'm a Phillies fan now? 

So things went really well. The conference was actually useful, the venue was stunning, and my hotel was great. I think you know where this is going. 

Hey, it has been over a year since I have flown and the rules have changed SO MUCH. Why isn't anyone telling me about these changes. When I left Madison, I literally just put my backpack in the x-ray machine and walked through the thingmabob that is probably giving me radiation poisoning. There was no shoe taking off, no electronics out of the bag, NO LIQUIDS IN A ZIPLOC BAG. You still can't bring in a water bottle with liquid in it, though. 

When I left via Philadelphia, I did have to take my Kindle and laptop out of my bag, but that was it. No shoes, no three ounce liquids all in a bag. Honestly, if I had known this liquid rule change, I would have brought my foundation. Anyway. Regular travelers, why aren't you telling me these things? 

Because I wanted to leave from Madison and because I wanted to stay for the morning presentations on Wednesday at the conference, I had to have a layover on the way home. It happened to be in Charlotte. I don't want to go get into the gory details, but the flight was delayed and delayed and delayed and we didn't leave Charlotte until after 1am. 

It wasn't my worst travel story, but I have got to stop using American Airlines. I got into bed after 3:30am and when the alarm went off, I almost cried.

So I've been mostly recovering because apparently one messed up night's sleep in my 40s means I am essentially useless for the next five days.

Here are some views from my morning walk with Hannah yesterday. 

Spooky season is here and I'm going to stop complaining about the end of summer. I'm embracing fall and Halloween and I'm here for it! 

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If you have a bad night's sleep, how long does it take you to recover? What city do you think has the rudest people? 

London Falling by Patrick Radden Keefe

London Falling: A Mysterious Death in a Gilded City and a Family's Search for Truth by Patrick Radden Keefe is one of those books. You know the kind? The kind that the author is on Fresh Air, but you think it sounds boring? But people you know and trust tell you it's really good despite the fact that you know you think it sounds boring? 

Well, hey, you should LISTEN TO YOUR OWN FEELINGS. This book is not my jam. Maybe it's your jam, particularly if you want to hear about the history of London for half an hour before you even meet a human being. This is the kind of book that thinks it's important that you know the history of the great-grandparents of a random person you'll only hear about sort of tangentially. This is the kind of book about a pathological liar who somehow gets into trouble and you're supposed to feel sympathy for him. This is the kind of book about bad people doing bad things and their only motivation is money. Now maybe that's interesting for some people, but it's not interesting for ME. 

Sort of rich kid pretends to be the son of a rich Russian oligarch, gets mixed up with mobsters and the drug trade, and ends up jumping off a balcony into the Thames. His parents try to figure out what went wrong (I dunno? you never parented him?) and all sorts of things about the underworld of London are discovered. 

Do you enjoy reading about wealthy entitled people being wealthy and entitled? Do you enjoy stories about thugs and mobsters? Do you enjoy it when entire judicial systems just shrug about thugs and mobsters because, hey, they're rich and they bring in a lot of money to the economy? Do you enjoy parents justifying how they didn't parent? 

It appears as if a lot of people DO enjoy Keefe's long digressions into history and rich people behaving badly because this book has a 4.29 on Goodreads. Listen, you do you. 2/5 stars

Lines of note:

It was a strange sensation, to move around St. John's Wood, picking up groceries or stopping for a cup of tea in a cafe, and knowing that there might be people around them, people from their own community, who had connections to Verinder Sharma, or to other elements of London's criminal subculture and who perhaps knew more than they did about their son's death. (Chapter 15)

I think this is profound, actually. When something big happens in your life (a new baby, a new job, a death in the family, discovering your son was a drug dealer who jumped off a balcony fleeing from a Russian mobster), it's CRAZY how the rest of the world just goes on, isn't it? 

I ended up speaking with dozens of former law enforcement officials, but never succeeded in locating anyone who nurtured the kind of Ahab like obsession I had in mind. (Chapter 22)

Moby-Dick!!! I KNOW THIS ONE. 

What I looked up: 

Candy and Candy apartment (Chapter 3) - Candy and Candy (now known as Candy London) is a world-famous ultra-prime interior design and property development company founded by British brothers Nick and Christian Candy. I thought this was just some British idiom I'd never heard. 

Hat mentions (why hats?):

bowler hats (Chapter 2)

top hatted mascot of the game (Chapter 7)

top hat (Chapter 11)

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Have you read this? Did you think it was super boring? Do you like how I'll fit Moby-Dick into anything I can? Do you think I'll still be so proud of reading Moby-Dick in a decade? 

The Reread - Realm of the Elderlings #1: Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb

It has been more than five years since I read The Realm of the Elderlings and I am due a reread. 

Several years ago, I dogsat for a friend for an extended time while she was in Europe. Her dogs were adorable, but it was quite a bit of work to go back and forth to her house multiple times a day. She gave me a big gift card to Powell's and told me I had to buy something fun. I bought the ENTIRE Realm of the Elderlings saga. 

Lately I've been in a reading valley. It's not a slump - I've read some very good books - but the books are not exciting me or making me eager to read them. So the advice I've always gotten about these situations is to do a reread. So here I am. First up is The Assassin's Apprentice. 

Fitz is the bastard son of Prince Chivalry. His mother's family abandons him at a royal home and he's raised in the background of court, mostly hanging out with the stableman, Burrich, who is his father's man. Well, King Shrewd realizes that Fitz could be useful, so he convinces Fitz to tutor under Chade, Shrewd's assassin. Along the way, Fitz realizes he has a special bond with animals called the Wit, which is taboo. He's also tutored by a dickwad named Galen to try to be able to Skill, a talent only those with royal blood have, but Fitz is not good at it. Anyway, he has to go on a mission to kill someone and he sort of succeeds, but more by accident than anything else. Meanwhile, Prince Regal, second in line to the throne, hates Fitz, so I'm pretty sure that's going to be important. 

Let's all pour one out for Nosy and Smithy, Fitz's dogs who, sadly, do not make it through the entirety of this novel. 

Look, this book is SO GOOD. Fitz is a traumatized child who immediately clings to any adult who shows him any attention. No one actually teaches him the nuances of the court, so he never has any idea what's really going on. He has no idea why Regal and Galen despise him, even though to the reader, it's crystal clear. Dogs show him real affection, so of course he develops his Wit, even though Burrich tells him it's shameful. It's such a great character study of poor Fitz. And we sort of know, before we're even halfway done with this first book in this entire eighteen book series, that it's always going to be poor Fitz.

I listened to the audiobook and it's so good. If you haven't read this, what are you waiting for? 

5/5 stars

Lines of note:

All events, no matter how earthshaking or bizarre, are diluted within moments of their occurrence by the continuance of the necessary routines of day-to-day living. Men walking a battlefield to search for wounded among the dead will still stop to cough, to blow their noses, still lift their eyes to watch a V of geese in flight. I have seen farmers continue their plowing and planting, heedless of armies clashing but a few miles away.  (Chapter 3)

You guys, I just looked this up. It is the same exact passage I marked when I read this in 2020. 

"...Burrich's shown you both how to work, and how to obey. Two things that Burrich himself excels at. You're not especially strong, or fast, or bright. Don't think you are. But you'll have the stubbornness to wear down anyone stronger, or faster, or brighter than yourself. And that's more of a danger to you than to anyone else." (Chapter 4)

So much foreshadowing in this book, friends. Fitz is so incompetent at everything he does. 

"There isn't much in a man's head," he told me, "that can't be cured by working and taking care of something else." (Chapter 5)

Right? I get out of bed to take care of my girls. 

"Keppet," said the woman at the next mat as I completed my purchase. I glanced at her, thinking she was addressing the woman I had just paid. But she was staring at me. "Keppet," she said, quite insistently, and I wondered what I meant in her language. It seemed a request for something, but the older woman only stared coldly out into the street, so I shrugged at her younger neighbor apologetically and turned away as I stowed the nuts in my basket.

I hadn't gotten more than a dozen steps away when I heard her shriek "Keppet!" yet again. I looked back to see the two women engaged in a struggle. The older one gripped the younger one's wrists and the younger one struggled and thrashed and kicked to get free of her. (Chapter 6)

Click to show spoiler

THIS IS FITZ'S MOM. 

 

The more tolerant Chade was, the more surly I felt. (Chapter 7)

Teenagers, right? Or, alternately, me when I'm hungry. I hate it when my husband is super reasonable when I'm pissed off. 

Men cannot grieve as dogs do. But we grieve for many years. (Chapter 24)

Poor Fitz. 

Hat mentions (why hats?)

so many new garments, hats, and accoutrements for Regal (Chapter 19)

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Do you reread books? How often? What motivates you to do a reread? 

Weekend Roundup

Friday during the day, I put my nose to the grindstone and got my work inbox from over 260 emails to under 30. I felt like confetti should have rained from the sky. Alas, it did not. 

Friday after work my friend Gina and I went to a Paint & Sip at a local art shop that is located in the same space as our new bookstore. Gina accidentally drank the paint water and I accidentally painted my water bottle, but we made it out alive.

Now, neither of us are artists. We are lovely human beings and we have a lot of strengths, including being great humans to a dog and a cat, holding big girl jobs, and paying taxes. But I will send out a delightful prize (to be determined) to the first person who correctly identifies who or what exactly we painted here in the comments. 

Yes, I hope everyone notices that I'm wearing LAYERS and REAL SHOES because that is the bullshit that is living in Wisconsin. The next weekend I'm home I'm going to have to put away my summer dresses and bring out my stupid cold weather wardrobe. 

Moving on. Saturday my husband went to visit a sick friend who lives in Madison. While he did that, I went to Sephora and World Market. I don't remember the last time I meandered around a store without a specific mission - maybe when Joann's was going out of business? Well, here's what I do. I look at an item, come up with a price for what I would pay for it in my mind, and then when the price tag says anywhere from twice to five times that price, I immediately laugh at myself for thinking this is 2002 and leave the store without buying anything.

The popcorn advent calendar was $45. Forty-five American dollars, yo. No, thank you. 

Then we went to Costco, but the less said about that the better.  I wish it were closer so we could go on a non-Saturday. (We can't go on Sunday because the pharmacy isn't open on Sunday.)

Sunday I packed my bags and Dr. BB drove me to the airport. Now I'm in Philadelphia, which is a real city, yo. I guess in my mind all the cities in Pennsylvania are like Pittsburgh, which more of a large town. ANYWAY. I managed to get myself from the airport to the hotel on the train and didn't make a single wrong turn getting to my hotel. Then I went out to dinner and meandered around for a bit before heading back to the hotel because, friends, fall HAS not hit Philly yet and I was dressed for 60s and rainy (what it was when I left Madison) and it was almost 80 here. I was sweating like a stadium beer is what I'm saying. 

Mural on the train station exit. 

Not a bad view from my hotel room. 

Public art!

I'm pretty sure my camera lens was messed up. Will try again for a crisper photo tomorrow night. 

Just a quick reminder that you should vote for the next CBBC book if you have not done so already. Just fill out this Google form. At first, there was such a runaway winner that I ordered one of the books from the bookstore, but it's a really tight race now. The scores are 39, 40, and 41, which is SHOCKINGLY close. The form will close on Thursday or whenever I get around to looking at the results when I get back into town. 

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Okay, who or what did Gina and I paint? There is a great prize at stake here. Have you ever been to Philly? Why wasn't I aware of the fact that it's a real city? 

Five for Friday, Edition #50: The Good and Bad of Our Four-Legged Friends

There's a lot (too much?) of capslock in this post. I'm just warning you. If you don't want to watch me go off the rails in real typing time, maybe skip this post. 

1) Remember that adorable fawn with its mom? Well, the fawn is no longer in the picture and the doe has taken to sitting under our pine tree drooling. She's skin and bones and is not even remotely moved when Hannah lunges and barks at her, so we're pretty sure she has CWD (don't click that link if you don't want to be sad). It's not a good scene. The DNR thanked us for calling, but told us to the call our local police, who politely told us to fuck off. So, hey, if next week there's an update about a dead deer in our yard, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR MY REACTION. (NOTE: She hasn't been in our yard for about 24 hours. I am hoping she went off and died in an appropriate deer dying place, LIKE THE WOODS.)

2) Speaking of, we think something died in our basement and it smells repulsive. We cannot figure out WHAT died, though, OR WHERE IT IS, so if you come to our house, now it smells like dog shit AND dead animal. WELCOME TO THE GIMBALSH HOUSEHOLD, HERE'S SOME queaseEASE. (I don't think this is actually true, but who the hell knows? I'm nose blind to the house at this point. Who wants to volunteer to come visit and tell me?)

3) I hit a ground squirrel on the way to work this morning. Am I sad about this? YES. There was also a dead squirrel in front of the sidewalk two doors down earlier this week and Hannah now thinks that when we get to that sidewalk square, we need to walk ten feet into the yard to avoid it. She is so smart that she was trained to do that on only two walks, isn't she? 

She is all nose. 

4) Life hack: Some months ago, we switched kitty litters to Lightweight Tidy Cats after years of using the cheapest 40 pound bag I could get at the local pet store. THIS HAS BEEN LIFE CHANGING. It's less dusty, less stinky, and when I spill it, it doesn't require every single muscle in my upper body to clean it up. I strongly prefer the scent free versions; there are Glade versions that I think are sort of gross - do you want your cat poop to be covered up with the artificial scent of an ocean with dead fish? Anyway. Do you have a cat? Does it use litter? Consider lightweight litter. Pro tip from me to you.

Collage of bad photos I have taken of my pretty kitty. She refuses to look at the camera when I take out my phone. She's like a sulky teen. I'm particularly fond of the one where she's cuddling scissors and earbuds. 

5) Life hack: Make homemade capsules for the bitter powder your dog has to take for the rest of her life. Remember Hannah's GI issues? Well, the vet has given up on trying to treat whatever the underlying cause of it is. Apparently some dogs, MOSTLY SHEPHERDS, OF COURSE, are just on this medication all the time. So now Hannah's in that club. Anyway, we bought some 1000 (ONE THOUSAND) empty capsules, fancy tweezers to hold said capsules, and now we have an assembly line of pill making once a month. DON'T YOU WISH YOU LIVED WITH US?

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Random things I need to tell of you.

1) I'm going to be out of town for a conference next week, so I'll be MIA. Am I looking forward to this conference? Absolutely not. But I might get to see my cousin, so that's all right. Oh, if you happen to be in Philly on Monday morning, let me know. I have nothing on my calendar right now. I'm not opposed to sleeping in, to be honest. 

2) What is this complete and utter bullshit? TREES ARE ALREADY CHANGING. I HAD TO WEAR REAL SHOES ON TUESDAY BECAUSE IT WAS TOO COLD FOR SANDALS. Bring back summer! Boo to fall! Next year I'm moving to Belize. (I am not moving to Belize.)

3) I don't remember the third thing. It's probably for the best.

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Any news from four-legged creatures in your life? Are the leaves changing where you live? How do you feel about that? Are you going to be in Philadelphia early next week?

Sea of Charms (Spellshop #3) by Sarah Beth Durst

The Spellshop
The Enchanted Garden

Cozy fantasy is NOT an easy genre to write. It is hard to write about something with actual stakes, but that doesn't seem like TOO many stakes, if you know what I mean? There has to be some conflict, but not enough that the reader is actually worried in the Ned Stark is about to lose his head sort of way. Legends and Lattes was quite good, but the follow-up was a snooze. People recommend the Monk and Robot series for cozy fantasy and, while I do like Becky Chambers a lot, maybe the first book was a little too cozy for me? I think Sarah Beth Durst is actually quite good at it. Sea of Charms is the third book in the Spellshop series and if you're looking for something to distract you from reality, these books are just the thing.

Marin is a sailor. She runs supplies from island to island in an attempt to pay off the debt her parents took on to help pay for her boat after Marin had a broken engagement. Suddenly, she has a crew of a talking plant and this composer named Dax who is fleeing from the war-torn city of Alyssium. She has a pet sea serpent. A PET SEA SERPENT. Can they pay off her parents' debt? Can they safely escape the danger from the war? 

OF COURSE THEY CAN. THIS IS COZY FANTASY.

I don't think Dax is as good a male lead as the grumpy gardener in the second book, but not every book has to be grumpy/sunshine to parallel my own real life. 

I love the world Durst is creating. I love how simple everything is in these books. 

Do I want every book I ever read to be like this? No, of course not. But as a diversion as I'm going to bed, I absolutely do want it. 

4/5 stars

Lines of note:

Sure, the city was lovely, in the same way that a many-tiered cake covered in fondant and spun sugar seemed lovely if you didn’t know it had been baked with fish inside. It soured if you sniffed too hard. (location 182)

“People think pleasure is the source of happiness. I have found that it is not. It is purpose. Purpose and passion.” (location 5627)

Hat mentions (why hats?):

he wore a stiff box-shaped hat on top of slicked-down hair (location 5340)

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Are you a cozy fantasy fan? What's your favorite in the genre? What's your favorite mythical creature? 

We Were Forbidden by Jacqueline Harpman, translated by Ros Schwartz

Since I read I Who Have Never Known Men, I've wanted to dig into Harpman's catalog a little bit. We Were Forbidden is a new translation of three short stories written by Harpman.

In the first story, a woman and her fellow survivors wander around a woods after having been conscripted to the military in a war, a war they haven't heard any news about in years. Is the war still ongoing? Can they leave the woods? As their clothing falls apart and their ammunition stores dwindle, what is going to happen to this group?

There's a mini-series on An Old Timey Podcast in which they talk about Hiroo Onoda, a Japanese soldier ordered to lead guerilla warfare missions on Lubang Island in the Philippines. He was told to never surrender, so when he received word that World War II had ended, Hiroo was certain that the message was a trick. He kept fighting until 1974 – nearly 29 years after the war ended.

This short story made me think of Onoda. It's probably the strongest story in the collection.

The second story is based on Harpman's childhood, when she and her family fled to Morocco in light of the invasion of Nazi troops. In this story, the main character is punished severely for ideas she doesn't share with the Moroccans. It was also zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

The last story was confusing, but fascinating. The main character is an author and, as she's going about her daily life, she starts inventing a story and characters in her head. So it's a bit unsettling because you're going from "real" life to the invented life. Honestly, it's one of the best things I've read about the writing process. Most books on writing don't actually touch on how ideas happen - they focus on butt in seat and hours at craft - but this short story really did seem to talk about the creative process in a way that felt real. 

As with most short story collections, I thought the stories varied in strength, but I'm glad I read this. Plus, it's only 90 pages long, so I finished this in an evening after dinner!

4/5 stars

Line of note:

I hadn't understood that there are moments in history when noble sentiments prevail over common sense...I had naivety and reason but no tact. It didn't occur to me that an argument that was well-founded could be controversial. (page 30)

I know this is just because of the anniversary of 9/11 recently, but I remember being so vehemently against the PATRIOT Act and it seemed like everyone around thought I had lost my mind. I was not tactful about what I thought about the government and sort of missed the memo on blind patriotism at that time in history. 

Things I looked up:

humus (page 12) - dark, organic material that forms in soil when plant and animal matter decays

Giorgione's Young Man with Arrow (page 57) -  an Italian Renaissance oil on panel painting created by Giorgione in 1505. It lives at the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna. 

Gros's Bonaparte at the Pont d'Arcole (page 57) - an oil-on-canvas painting executed in 1796 by the French artist Antoine-Jean Gros. It depicts an episode during the Battle of Arcole in November 1796, with General Napoleon Bonaparte leading his troops to storm the bridge. It is housed at the Palace of Versailles.

the plot of Madame Bovary (page 76) - Emma Bovary marries Charles, a fairly dull doctor. Emma's bored with her staid middle-class life and to escape this life, she has affairs with local men and runs up massive debts buying luxury items. When her lovers refuse to help her pay what she owes and her creditors close in, she kills herself by swallowing arsenic. Her heartbroken husband dies soon after discovering her betrayal, leaving their young daughter to an impoverished life. Oof. Sounds sad. 

Hat mentions (why hats?):

broad-brimmed black hat (page 56, 72, and 73)

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How do you feel about short story collections? Have you ever read one where all the stories were a hit?