Another Book, and Nothing Creative

I am in North Carolina, ostensibly to help my sister recover from surgery. She has been discharged from the care of her cardiologist, and is doing very, very well. Still slow, but getting there. I will go back home on Tuesday, and I am excited about seeing my husband, my family, my dogs, and my house. And my beautiful, clean, organized scrapbooking room. I have not done but one creative things since I got here (on February 16), and I am feeling very hemmed in. Amazing that when I am scrapping, or sewing, or whatever in my room, I don't feel creative, but when I am not doing any of those things, I feel very uncreative. Odd.



I have read books, however. About 7 of them. I still have 3 Saint books to read and make tests for (can you see that my steam for that task gave out a long, long time ago?!), and I am in the middle of the last book I brought, World Without End, by Ken Follett. I have read all of his books, and this one is up in the top 2-3 of his works. I am really enjoying it.



The book that I have finished that I really, really liked is Dough, by Mort Zachter. I loved reading the story, but I also loved how honest he was about reconciling his feelings of love and fondness for his uncles with the anger he felt after learning their secret. I would recommend it highly to anyone who enjoys memoirs.



Finally, I am back in TarHeel country, and finally go the chance to see my Heels in the DeanDome (it was built after I left, and I have attended concerts there, but never seen the team play). My friend with the connections, Moneypenny (yes, her real name), called with the great news. Could there be a downside? Of course there is, in my world! The tickets are for the day I leave, at 3:39 in the afternoon! Maybe next time.

Here is a photo of my new and improved Scrapbook/Sewing Room. I am so happy in here.

All's (Mostly) Right with the World

My favorite line from Anne of Green Gables. . . and a Robert Browning poem (Pippa Passes?)

I am in North Carolina right now. My sister came through surgery well, and I am spending a couple weeks with her while she recuperates. Some fun, but not a lot. She is doing well, and I am glad that she is taking it as easy as she is. That is difficult for her.

dook has lost twice since beating my Heels, and I am happy since those bruised and battered Heels are winning still. (Take that, rat bastard!)

More books read, especially in airports, etc., and posted in the box on the side. Yay Me!

All IS right in the world. People I love, games to play. . . Yeah, life is good.

Worry. Concern, and Letting Go (plus, another book)

First off, before I forget, I finished another book with one of my very favorite characters, Dismas Hardy. It took me a couple days to finish John Lescroart's Dead Irish, but it was very good, and I am glad I found it on Paperbackswap.com. (BTW, if you haven't checked that site out, do it. What a great idea, and what a convenience. Love, love, love it.)

So, on the other things. For a few months, the Carolina-dook game has been on my calendar, me waiting with eager anticipation. But something came up: my sister is having bypass surgery tomorrow. Suddenly, the game isn't the biggest thing anymore.

Then, I feel a little guilty, because it is still a big deal to me. Very, very few people get this about me, but Carolina Basketball is part of who I am. I won't equate the season with my family (sister, parents, husband, or my kids), but, dang, is it close. I know I shouldn't, but I still care a great deal about the outcome of that game. If something happens bad in NC, then the importance of the game will recede, I am sure. If I was asked to, I would miss this game. But the thing is, I would remember that I was missing it. Does this make me abnormal?

So, the title of this post is Worry, Concern, and Letting Go. I have never worried about things in my entire life. If you have control, and it needs changing, then change it. If you don't have control, then you get concerned, but that is all--you can't fix anything, so why worry? Concern is different--you care, and you anticipate an outcome, and you pick up pieces when you have to, but worry? Nah. Now, I am in the middle of a situation over which I have no control, I am concerned, but it is completely someone else's to deal with (my son's). I have to let this go, but I am still very, very concerned about the direction of his life. But I have to let this go: it isn't mine, I can't own it, and I can't fix it. Letting go is so hard.

So, Go Surgeons! Go Jaymi! Go Sam!

Go Heels! Beat dook!

Another Book

I just finished My Summer of Southern Discomfort, by Stephanie Gayle. It was a good book, but when I finished it, I wondered, "Do the people who write the 'Advance Praise' even read the book? Jay Atkinson, for example, wrote "her first novel is a ...funny book." A woman who was treated horribly by her very first lover, and man who was in a clear position to take advantage (and shouldn't have), moves to Macon, Georgia, to escape, and works in the District Attorney's office. Oh, and her father, whose respect and admiration she craves, is/was a prominent attorney for civil rights. Of course, she is assigned to a a capital murder case, and the novel is about her misgivings, both in her personal and professional lives. Funny stuff, right?

The inside jacket notes make this book sound as if it is going to be a sort of Stephanie Plum novel, light, fun, and sexy. It isn't any of these things.

But I won't let any of this detract from the novel. It was a good story, although it seemed as though the writer was trying a little to hard to make her words sound pretty. Still and all, a good book.

More Books!

I finished two more books: Audio Digging to America, by Anne Tyler, and the book I got for Christmas from my children, Born Standing Up, by Steve Martin.

Digging to America was good--I liked it better than I thought I would, but I think Ms. Tyler is falling into a formula pattern, which saddens me. I thought that Saint Maybe was/is one of the best stories, I have ever read, and maybe it is that nothing else she writes stacks up, while coming close often. The body of Digging to America is rich, and I love the character development, and I felt bad when bad things happened to anyone in the book. But I hated the ending. I know that comparing a writier to Shakespeare is generally considered a compliment, but he did have a problem with endings. Ms. Tyler does the same--as if to say "I know how I want this to end, but I am tired a writing." All said, it was satisfying, and I would recommend it to friends, but still think that Saint Maybe is her best work.

Anyone who knows me knows that I love Steve Martin: I love his humor, I love his sense of privacy, I love (most) of his artwork, I love his novellas, and I would love to see his plays, should one ever play close to where I am. So his "biography of someone he used to be" was a no-brainer. It took me just a few hours to read, and I loved it and wished it had lasted longer. Mr. Martin is on my cliched list of "10 Famous People You Would Invite to Dinner," and besides my husband, he is the only one that is still living. The apparent ease with which he strings words together are magical for me, and I wish that I could write like he does. I love that I feel as if I know him better, while he really didn't reveal much of his personal life in his book at all. I appreciate that; I didn't want to read a tell-all, or a defense of his life of his work. I loved it, and I eagerly wait for his next writing. I would love to see another original movie (please stop with the Father of the Bride and Cheaper by the Dozen!).

Finished Another Book

I finished another book today: John Grisham's Playing for Pizza. I love John Grisham. I love his legal books (all but one, and I can't remember which one), I love the movies made from his books (except for The Firm, where the book was SO much better than the movie), and I am especially loving his non-legal books. Playing for Pizza was so enjoyable. I wish I could write like him, just because it seems so effortless for him (which means that it is probably really hard, or at least, it used to be for him).

Thank you for such a relaxing, comfortable book.