The other day, I picked up a book off the new book display—drawn by the colorful cover and by the title. Mobile Library, by David Whitehouse, has a happy-looking cover, but it is anything but a happy book.
I’ve never really liked horses. The way they side-step with those ginormous, clippy-cloppy hooves, bare those big, big teeth, and roll those huge eyes until the whites show all the way around? Very scary! Yes, they are beautiful, and yes, their shiny coats are like stroking silk. But still. Horses. <shudder>
My fear of horses probably is the reason that I never really wanted to read Westerns. But I quite often looked at Westerns. So many great covers! So many sub-genres! I read Doc, by Mary Doria Russell. And then Epitaph, the sequel. I wanted more, more, more!
I still don’t really like horses, but I have discovered that I really like Westerns! Check out some favorites in my Most-Wanted list.
I only clean my house to loud rock and roll music because a) I know my neighbors love it and b) doesn’t everyone?
In honor of American Craft Beer Week (May 11-18), raise a pint at one our area’s local breweries, enjoy a draft in your favorite pub or tavern, or just pick up a six-pack to take home. Beer and pizza, beer and good times with friends, beer and backyard barbeques—there are virtually no wrong ways to enjoy a brew. Just don’t overdo it! Be sure to imbibe responsibly.
BOSS: Hey, can you create a booklist to highlight downtown Fredericksburg, maybe for Restaurant Week?
ME: <out loud> Sure, that would be FUN! <to myself> Are you kidding? What kind of booklist could I do for that? What’s my hook? There is no hook. Nooooooo. I’m doomed! Doomed! I’m gonna need a snack to figure this out. There are no snacks here. What snacks do I have at home? Wait. Wait. I’m getting an idea….
They say that with age comes wisdom. I’m not so sure—most middle-aged ladies I know (myself included!) seem to not be able to remember anything! Maybe the phrase means the wisdom to say “now, honey, you’re gonna hafta remind me of this conversation, because I surely will forget everything momentarily!”
Now that I have become, ahem, une femme d’un certain âge, I find that I am drawn to mysteries with little old lady sleuths.
I don’t have a passport. I should have a passport. I need a passport. I want to be the type of person who can jet off to Paris on a moment’s notice. The type of person who is asked to jet off to Paris on a moment’s notice. I’ve printed out many passport applications.
I was not a very adventurous child. I wasn’t boisterous and loud and physically fearless like some of my friends. I did, however, harbor a secret wish to run away and join the circus. I was mesmerized by the bright lights and spangles. And maybe even a teensy bit aware that there just might be some...tawdry…aspects to the circus life.
From the safety my reading perch (depending on the season—the back of the sofa, or on top of the furnace vent, or in the shade of the side yard) running away to join the circus seemed possible. I could be transformed from an awkward kid with glasses into a glittering aerialist!
Have some PEEEEANUTS or POPCORRRRN or COTTON CAAANDY and enjoy these circus tales.