my favorite book
good lord.. i have so many.. how the hell am i going to choose?
i would much rather talk about the books that i hated. like.. heart of darkness by joseph conrad.. which i have blocked completely from memory.. or catcher in the rye.. i took that book and threw it as hard and far as i could out my back door when i finished it. i almost threw out charterhouse of parma.. but then i hit the middle and fell in love... besides, that book might have actually mamed someone if i did throw it, so it's a good thing i decided to like it. i liked atlas shrugged a lot until she got long-winded with john's speech.. so i chucked it. besides, rand's heroines always leave me somehow unsettled. middlemarch was a snorefest but i liked that old curmudgeon, silas marner. i couldnt get past the first page of lady chatterley's lover.. dunno why, but i kept falling asleep. shutter island and i have a love/hate thing going on. i hated the old man and the sea, it felt unfinished to me. but the all time worst book i ever read.. Jonathan Livingston Seagull.. ok maybe not the worst.. but it's high on the list. have i offended anyone yet? grins
my favorite book might just be The Lady in White by Wilkie Collins. the only reason i say it might be my favorite is because it's well-worn from many reads. i might just pick it up on the way to bed tonight and read it again. the characters come alive.. i see them in my mind, like they were old friends and ... enemies.
oh i forgot.. so many.. Lust for Life.. and the one about Michelangelo.. simply fantastic..
a high wind in jamaica... so brilliantly unexpected and twisted.. The Hobbit.. just leaves me mystified.. yeah im never gonna be able to pick just one. ;)
Sunday, March 18, 2012
My favorite book
I could narrow it down to the top twenty per Genre, but it is hard to pick just one. I can see them clamoring around,
Pick me, pick me. What about me? That summer in Boston,when you read me through cover to cover twice!
When you are sick, you reach for me... I am your favorite. Me me! I am dog eared and written in. I got post it notes.
Vut about me, you read me in German.
I went backpacking with you! and i was heavy..
You are such a book slut, How could you forget how much I meant to you?. You don't read me anymore, but I meant everything to you once.
Childhood, Little Women. Hands down winner. Second Place goes to Alice in Wonderland. Third place, the Bobbsey twins.
Middle years. Anything by Dickens, and a special nod to Gone with the Wind. Anything and everything science fiction
Young adult, Thackeray's Vanity Fair. mhm. Hotel New Hampshire, John Irving's works simply brilliant.
Adult. Kristen Lavransdatter, Rex stouts work, PG Wodehouse. huge favorites of mine
but all above them all is Jane Austin's Pride and Prejudice. Simply the best novel written in our time.
So readable. I've read it over and over and over. It is without flaw. I know it by heart, but it still delights me. I want to read it on my death bed.
Pick me, pick me. What about me? That summer in Boston,when you read me through cover to cover twice!
When you are sick, you reach for me... I am your favorite. Me me! I am dog eared and written in. I got post it notes.
Vut about me, you read me in German.
I went backpacking with you! and i was heavy..
You are such a book slut, How could you forget how much I meant to you?. You don't read me anymore, but I meant everything to you once.
Childhood, Little Women. Hands down winner. Second Place goes to Alice in Wonderland. Third place, the Bobbsey twins.
Middle years. Anything by Dickens, and a special nod to Gone with the Wind. Anything and everything science fiction
Young adult, Thackeray's Vanity Fair. mhm. Hotel New Hampshire, John Irving's works simply brilliant.
Adult. Kristen Lavransdatter, Rex stouts work, PG Wodehouse. huge favorites of mine
but all above them all is Jane Austin's Pride and Prejudice. Simply the best novel written in our time.
So readable. I've read it over and over and over. It is without flaw. I know it by heart, but it still delights me. I want to read it on my death bed.
my dad
my dad is depressed.
has been for 10 years as of April 16th
the day before his birthday
he will be 67
we talk every thursday night
usually for an hour or so
i dread winter
he hits his lowest when it's dreary and cold
the phone calls are difficult
lately they have become worrisome
and short
and last week he didn't call
and i got busy with life stuff
and his bad son just didn't call him..
and this week i went on a date
and checked my phone..
he never called.
for two years after my ma died
i spoke every day with him on the phone
it took a toll on me
but he never went to grief counseling
he refused
he never talked to anyone
but me
..and jenny
over time the calls became less frequent
and now, it's once a week
the weather has been fantastic
and unseasonably warm in the midwest
the sun is shining
and
i sent him a bundle of stories to read..
with a message
Dear Dad,
Early Birthday present.. since you don't celebrate.
These essays are just the beginning of a thank you. A thank you for the love of words you instilled in me from a very young age. You and Ma gave me a love of music.. and so I am a musician. All those Scrabble games stuck with me. And so now, I write. You gave me so much Dad.
Thanks Dad.. I love you, man
Wen
tonight he called while i was in the middle of a game with Rosie and Reese. i rushed to the phone. i thought something was wrong.
There was a smile in his voice when he said, 'Thank you, son.'
has been for 10 years as of April 16th
the day before his birthday
he will be 67
we talk every thursday night
usually for an hour or so
i dread winter
he hits his lowest when it's dreary and cold
the phone calls are difficult
lately they have become worrisome
and short
and last week he didn't call
and i got busy with life stuff
and his bad son just didn't call him..
and this week i went on a date
and checked my phone..
he never called.
for two years after my ma died
i spoke every day with him on the phone
it took a toll on me
but he never went to grief counseling
he refused
he never talked to anyone
but me
..and jenny
over time the calls became less frequent
and now, it's once a week
the weather has been fantastic
and unseasonably warm in the midwest
the sun is shining
and
i sent him a bundle of stories to read..
with a message
Dear Dad,
Early Birthday present.. since you don't celebrate.
These essays are just the beginning of a thank you. A thank you for the love of words you instilled in me from a very young age. You and Ma gave me a love of music.. and so I am a musician. All those Scrabble games stuck with me. And so now, I write. You gave me so much Dad.
Thanks Dad.. I love you, man
Wen
tonight he called while i was in the middle of a game with Rosie and Reese. i rushed to the phone. i thought something was wrong.
There was a smile in his voice when he said, 'Thank you, son.'
Trust Recovery
I am troubled. I see my writings here and realize these represent a time when I was depressed, long depressed, for years. What I don't see represented is the way I changed or the how. I feel a need to address that. The TRUST topic brought this up and I trust my fellow bloggers will allow this extension of theme.
The Price Is Right! That's what I did! I watched it every day at 10 AM. On the weekends, I missed it. I longed for the 'happy' hit. Actually, I was not happy when the contestants won their prizes. I wasn't happy when they had the closest bid. I wasn't happy when they were called from the audience. But, they were! They were giddy, smiling, laughing, crying, high-fiving and even dancing with joy. And I didn't know how to do that.
I could fake the smile. I could hug the relatives. I could laugh sarcastically. But the hard black hole in my chest was always there. Except, after a year or two, of watching others be happy, I started to feel something for them. Would the birthday girl contestant get the Big payoff? Would the dottering oldster win the motorcycle showcase? Could the newlywed win the Honeymoon Package, the student the $50,000 PLINKO!!!!!!!
At 10 Am every morning, I sat in front of my flickering screen-contained, therapy counselor, and watched my fellow humans exhibit behavior I didn't have anymore. For an hour daily, I watched, watched and learned, watched and began to care again.
True, I had a grief counselor for two years, I opened my heart to God in Nature, and I took long drives. I got a dog. helped others, and read a lot. I learned some new skills, met new people, tried to do whatever feathered the edge of the black hole even slightly, even for a second. That I did. And, I did that again, and again.
I am not a drinker or a drugger, never saw the value in letting go of my brain. During my recovery I didn't have a brain though. Not one I recognized. Not one that was me. I was not me. And, now I am! Five years later I can look around and say, I am me! I can identify happy when it happens. I am still here. I learned.
I play Draw My Thing now. Thank you, Price Is Right.....Haven't seen the show in ages!
The Price Is Right! That's what I did! I watched it every day at 10 AM. On the weekends, I missed it. I longed for the 'happy' hit. Actually, I was not happy when the contestants won their prizes. I wasn't happy when they had the closest bid. I wasn't happy when they were called from the audience. But, they were! They were giddy, smiling, laughing, crying, high-fiving and even dancing with joy. And I didn't know how to do that.
I could fake the smile. I could hug the relatives. I could laugh sarcastically. But the hard black hole in my chest was always there. Except, after a year or two, of watching others be happy, I started to feel something for them. Would the birthday girl contestant get the Big payoff? Would the dottering oldster win the motorcycle showcase? Could the newlywed win the Honeymoon Package, the student the $50,000 PLINKO!!!!!!!
At 10 Am every morning, I sat in front of my flickering screen-contained, therapy counselor, and watched my fellow humans exhibit behavior I didn't have anymore. For an hour daily, I watched, watched and learned, watched and began to care again.
True, I had a grief counselor for two years, I opened my heart to God in Nature, and I took long drives. I got a dog. helped others, and read a lot. I learned some new skills, met new people, tried to do whatever feathered the edge of the black hole even slightly, even for a second. That I did. And, I did that again, and again.
I am not a drinker or a drugger, never saw the value in letting go of my brain. During my recovery I didn't have a brain though. Not one I recognized. Not one that was me. I was not me. And, now I am! Five years later I can look around and say, I am me! I can identify happy when it happens. I am still here. I learned.
I play Draw My Thing now. Thank you, Price Is Right.....Haven't seen the show in ages!
Trust…
Trust…
Husband is on strike from his job!
Insurance stops!
Parents request: Kids stay healthy…
Daughter comes down the stairs dressed in her corduroy jeans and almost ready for school.
She is crying…..Mom…I can’t see.
What do you mean you can’t see?
I can’t see in front of me.
Sit down…..now wondering….is my daughter going blind?
Stand up and try walking…let me see if you stagger…
Daughter stands up…I can’t see.
Daughter sits down…mom,…now I can see.
Stand up….can’t see……….sit down…can see.
Hmmm…that came on quite suddenly.
What is wrong with my daughter?
Call the family doctor…daughter gets bumped up ahead of everyone else.
Bring her in and let me examine her.
I have a good idea of what it could be, but I would like her to be checked out by the best eye specialist and he is right here in town. I just want to make sure it is not a hidden tumor.
Ok…another doctor bill. My third sentence was “Kids, stay healthy”….and here we are edging our way to doctor #2.
Doctor examines daughter…no tumor! Oh what a relief to hear those words.
So, what are we dealing with? She stands, she can’t see….she sits…she can see.
Doctor #1 calls us back after receiving news that there wasn’t a tumor.
Doctor says “Has anything strange or tragic happen at school or at home recently”.
Not that I know of…I called the school and talk to daughters teacher…explaining our situation.
She mentioned that kids were making fun of her because she was wearing the same style corduroy jeans that a boy in her class wore. Instead of making fun of a boy wearing the same jeans as a girl, they picked on my daughter for wearing the same jeans as a boy. I purposely bought boy jeans for all of my girls since they were more durable and less expensive at the time.
When my daughter would stand up, the threat of having to go to school increased and when she sat down, the threat decreased.
Daughters diagnosis was: Hysterical Blindness now known as Conversion Disorder.
I packed all of her corduroy jeans in a box and they were sold at a rummage sale for a buck each. She trusted me in only purchasing girly jeans from then on and she was never blinded again!
TRUST
In God We Trust...or we should. But we like to second guess Him, don't we?
I came late to an honest spirituality. My brother and I were baptized in the Community Methodist Church and took part in Sunday School. We walked together to church on Sundays I remember my mom and dad were always still in bed when we got home. Then, four more siblings! They were not baptized. By then, we had moved away to God-foresaken California and there were way more things to do on Sundays...
However, I found Him again. At forty five, in a twelve step program, I discovered spirituality, faith,and trust. I learned to 'let go and let God'. I learned to ask for what I needed. I learned to trust that there would be answers. They were not always the answers I expected. But, they put me in a better place.
And then, my world fell apart. And, I didn't care if I stayed in the world. It was a heartless existence with no purpose and my identity was gone. The reason I woke up each morning no longer existed. And I cared for nothing else. I was spiritless, faithless, and trusted no one. In fact, I was pretty sure everyone was out to take advantage of me in some way or another.
I wish I could say that I was guided to ask the right questions and received the right answers . It didn't happen. All I did was live. In the most basic, survivalist mode. Somehow. There were many days when I didn't even try.
I look back on five years of that near-death experience. I should have trusted Him more. Because I am still here and I thank God. And, I am here! God! I am here!
Thank you all at DMT and Forever Young.
In God We Trust...or we should. But we like to second guess Him, don't we?
I came late to an honest spirituality. My brother and I were baptized in the Community Methodist Church and took part in Sunday School. We walked together to church on Sundays I remember my mom and dad were always still in bed when we got home. Then, four more siblings! They were not baptized. By then, we had moved away to God-foresaken California and there were way more things to do on Sundays...
However, I found Him again. At forty five, in a twelve step program, I discovered spirituality, faith,and trust. I learned to 'let go and let God'. I learned to ask for what I needed. I learned to trust that there would be answers. They were not always the answers I expected. But, they put me in a better place.
And then, my world fell apart. And, I didn't care if I stayed in the world. It was a heartless existence with no purpose and my identity was gone. The reason I woke up each morning no longer existed. And I cared for nothing else. I was spiritless, faithless, and trusted no one. In fact, I was pretty sure everyone was out to take advantage of me in some way or another.
I wish I could say that I was guided to ask the right questions and received the right answers . It didn't happen. All I did was live. In the most basic, survivalist mode. Somehow. There were many days when I didn't even try.
I look back on five years of that near-death experience. I should have trusted Him more. Because I am still here and I thank God. And, I am here! God! I am here!
Thank you all at DMT and Forever Young.
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