What's on Your 2014 Summer Reading List?

Reading is the sole means by which we slip, involuntarily, often helplessly, into another’s skin, another’s voice, another’s soul.  

Joyce Carol Oates

Time once again to post my summer reading list. After years of doing this, I've only made it through the entire list once -- by year's end. I'm easily distracted for some of the very simple reasons I now list.

A new book that has just come out from a favorite author

More than a few trips to the library

Choosing from the stack that arrives at Book Club 

Grabbing one of the other twenty-five books on my To Be Read shelf

A trip to the book store or a late night perusal on Amazon

A backlog of New Yorker's requiring attention

The multitude of short story books that crowd my night table - Best of 2013, 2012, 2011 or poetry books or a Dorothy Parker reader or...

Often what is next on my list just isn't what I'm looking for at that moment. What can I say? I'm flighty and subject to a moment's whim. 

I need to revisit but I think there is a blog group that reads only from their To Be Read shelf in January or February. Probably would be a good idea for me to catch up on those that show up on my summer list year after year. Lakeside Musing? Was that you?

Alas, this summer's list.

The Interestings  Meg Wolitzer
Longbourn  Jo Baker
The Lowland  Jhumpa Lahiri
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao  Junot Diaz
Taft Ann Patchett
Written in My Own Heart's Blood  Diana Gabaldon
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle  Barbara Kingsolver
Of Human Bondage  Somerset Maughm
Sous Chef Michael Gibney
The Snow Queen Michael Cunningham
Duty: Memoirs of a Secretary of War Robert Gates
Outliers Malcolm Gladwell
The Mouse-Proof Kitchen Saira Shah
Honeymoon in Paris  JoJo Moyes

I also highly recommend these books by some of my fellow Austin WriterGrrls

Hip Girls Guide to the Kitchen  Kate Payne  A hit-the-ground running approach to stocking up and cooking delicious, nutritious, and affordable meals.

Twisted  Marjorie Brody Sarah Hausman must hide a secret--even from herself. If she acknowledges the truth, it will destroy everyone she loves.

Out of the Frying Pan Robin Allen  Health inspector Poppy Markham suspects murder when a popular chef buys an organic farm.

Skirts at War  Jennifer Newcomb Marine  - Overcoming dual-family conflict with proven strategies for creating peace at home.

Slow Family Living Bernadette Noll  75 simple ways to slow down, connect, and create more joy

Take My Husband Please  Kimberly Jayne  (Due out in August) A soon-to-be divorced real estate rookie's hot new love affair gets derailed when a series of blind dates turns her ex into the man she always dreamed he could be.

I'm always on the lookout for well-written smut in my summer reading so let me know if you have a good one. Meanwhile, I'm off to my hammock.

What's on your Summer Reading List?

What's On Your Summer Reading List?

Always read something that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.

P.J. O'Rourke

What's on your book list for summer? I'm compiling my pile and hope you'll share yours also. I'm also adding a few titles written by some friends of mine.

My Summer Stack:

The Moonflower Vine - Jetta Carleton
A Visit From the Goon Squad - Jennifer Egan
The Lake Shore Limited - Sue Miller
The Widows of Eastwick - John Updike
Beloved - Toni Morrison
Why New Orleans Matters - Tom Piazza
As I Lay Dying - William Faulkner
Divisadero - Micahel Ondaatje
The Whole World Over - Julia Glass
The Golden Notebook - Doris Lessing

(Not to mention that there are 30 more books on my To Be Read shelf and that I'll probably hit the library when nothing pops out at me on any given day.)

Here are a few I recommend written by some of my author friends.

If You Can't Stand the Heat - Robin Allen
A Cozy Mystery Culinary Romp

I, too, have suffered in the garden - Jennifer Hritz
Character driven delight

Circular Breathing - Meditations from a Musical Life - Ann McCutcheon
Essays from an incredible writing teacher
Tender Graces - Kathryn Magendie
Women's literary fiction

Click on the books to find their Amazon page. As you can see, I haven't quite mastered the proper download of the covers. Why is it that some days you can't remember what you've done in the past? Perhaps sometimes a good thing.

So, what's on your list for the summer?

I'm a Home Wrecker

Let us a little permit Nature to take her own way; she better understands her own affairs than we.

Michel de Montaigne, translated

I've destroyed a family, or two.

For the past couple years, we've had a family of Barn Swallows living in our dock eaves. We like them. They sit on the fan above us and sing to us. We watch as their young awaken and the parents tend and protect them, teach them to soar the sky and eat the spiders and mosquitoes living around us. They keep a neat nest and have a lovely song.



On another eave, we've had a sparrow family. I've lain in my hammock and watched that mother push her young out of the nest and down the railing, letting them know their time to explore on their own has arrived. One day last year I observed an eight hour process from pushing the babies away to their actual flight. (Wish raising my own kids had been that easy.)

The Swallows and Sparrows appeared to live in relative peace until this year. The Bird Wars have begun. Apparently in this mottled sparrow mess of collected treasures, the eggs did not hatch.

Which caused the male sparrow to stake out another space and claim the entire dock as his domain. With relentless fervor, he and his female crew began nest making in various spaces, including the swallow nests. Messy nests. Eggs galore.


The swallows relocated their nest to the neighbor's dock, but the neighbors promptly removed it. These human inhabitants also spray constantly for spiders and fog their entire yard to kill any bugs. Seems rather futile to me - we are at the lake.

After a few days back in town, I returned to the cabin. From our front window I saw a flurry of activity down on the dock. With my binoculars, I watched a flustered female sparrow pick up stray nest pieces in her beak, a tad frantic as to how to get them back in place. I assumed the swallows had returned to reclaim their own home and deflect the new building. A walk on the the dock proffered indeed the discovery of broken eggs on the ground, their yellow yolks on the sun-warmed wood looking like a miniature fried egg.

Finally having an opportunity to string a couple of days together to mimic a compete slug and hibernate in my hammock, I found myself engulfed in the middle of these bird wars swarming above me. Seemed a nonstop daily cycle of rebuilding and destruction of homes. The swallows flying through the spires of the dock patrolling the area. No physical fights, just a show of unity and diligence on the part of the swallows. The sparrows - domineering and invasive, unwavering. I decided to intervene.

I had my tallest son - 6'3" climb the ladder and remove the sparrow messes from the swallow nests. And, the extra ones they had started on other rafters. We only cleaned up the nest with the unhatched eggs, as the grasses and collected pieces of feather and matter in that nest dangled like two feet of hanging trash. Following Linda at Wander to the Wayside's lead, I hoped that the nest with lifeless eggs and the loss of their new makeshift nests might force the sparrows to relocate to another dock. My swallows could live in peace. Me, too.

I stayed for a while that afternoon, awaiting the response. The male and female sparrow arrived at their dismantled swallow nest and displayed quiet distress. The female leaned her head against her mates neck for a moment, then flew off. The male, took a few of the loose strands of grass remaining from our cleanup and placed them gently inside the nest.

A tender moment, I'd experienced. I felt like a beast.

Upon leaving the lake later that day, I wondered what might occur while I returned to my home and tended the flock living there. When I returned to the cabin a few days later, armed with my new Google research on the invasive sparrow empire in North America, I worried about my swallows. I found their original nest remained clear. However, another haphazard sparrow nest loomed above me in the rafters. But only one. Seemed the swallows with their tell-tale forked tails had gathered in force - the parents and both sets of babies born this year joined and running recon. One alighting on the fan, while several sat on the eaves, and when the male sparrow inched his way toward the swallow nest, two to three swallows huddled, emphasizing their presence.

Mr. Sparrow keeping watch, never giving up, never giving in.

The swallows equally vigilant.

I question my involvement in this process, that I turn up my nose to my neighbors decisions of chasing away the birds, hanging fake owls, and spraying weekly for spiders. But, I, too, have intervened in the process of nature. Even though I only sought peace for all of them, I chose one over the other. Difficult.

Meanwhile, my birdie looks on.

Happy to visit the lake and spend his mornings outside talking to all his friends as they fly by. Another piece of nature I have to admit I control.

Meanwhile - 8 Days Later

Marriage is a book of which the first chapter is written in poetry and the remaining chapters in prose.
Beverley Nichols

When I last left you, a wedding lingered before us. Four days after the event, I'm still exhausted, but after a fairly good night's sleep, wanted to offer a glimpse of the festivity.

Such fun we had. Such laughter. Old friends, fun family. Beautiful weather. And the newly married off on their honeymoon. Below, a couple of photos. Will catch up more as soon as I catch my breath.

I wish. Ian's 18th birthday last night, Senior Awards tonight, baseball games Friday and Saturday, my mom visiting. Graduation in Arizona next week. Dream on, Julie. Dream on.

P.S. I will post a photo of me in my dress as soon as I get one that isn't all blurred. That IS me on the right in the top photo. Purple lady.

Photos by B. Schraeder, F. Fredericks, H. Conrad, me

How To Waste TIme When the Words Don't Flow

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.

Douglas Adams

This weekend, while hiding from my computer and the thousands of words not yet written in my Nanowrimo quest, I buried myself in the quiet of my hammock. A book, filled with words from one more studious and dedicated than yours truly, aided my escape.

Movement caught my eye. Something fell into the water, just beyond the edge of the dock. I looked up to spy an osprey, perched on the top of the rope swing. A fish clamped in the talons of its thick legs. Lunch.



The fish appeared quite unconcerned. (Perhaps its demise occurring before the arrival at my house.) I watched with curiosity, unsure if the unpleasant butcher of a poor crappie might force me inside to my computer. But the osprey matched my silence and proved a most patient eater taking delicate bites of his prey as though enjoying the view while he lunched at the lake. Quite particular about which morsels to eat, he dropped the unwanted into the water below. No doubt another in that food chain gathered nourishment from there.

I forgot about him after a while, engrossed in the pages I read, only glancing now and again to see how much longer he might be. Seemed in no hurry. Just like me - getting back to my novel-in-progress, somewhere in the word count.

My own bird chirped from up on the porch, my husband having put him out on the table to enjoy the day.



As to my Nanowrimo progress? My main character is no longer wandering in the middle of a prairie. She is further along the road to trouble. The tension grows. The road goes on with frequent detours.

I'm very good at distracting myself with any number of fascinating projects, including keeping time with your average, every day neighborhood osprey. Incredible sight.

Hope he does the dishes when he's done.
(sorry for that one.)

How goes the battle for the rest of you?

Who's Got the Funk?

funk 1 |fə ng k| informal noun 1 (also blue funk) [in sing. ] a state of depression : I sat absorbed in my own blue funk

Is it just me? Or does the word blue in that sentence definition seem a tad redundant. I suppose there are some funks that are worse than others. In fact, I think I just came out of one. A long one.

As I've written quite a bit on this blog since it began last January, there has been much to remind me of my age. Such as:

* Assessing what I've been doing, or not doing, for the past 20 years to meld into a resume
* Reading thousands of essays from 17-year-old kids helping little old ladies - like 50 - across the street.
* My oldest son graduating from college and getting engaged
* Middle son beginning his senior year of college
* Discovering arthritis in my feet
* My youngest son embarking on his senior year of high school
* My hot flashes trading places with an occasional period accompanied by a growing gut
* Being labeled an "older voter" - one of those over 50
* Getting serious with exercise and gaining 7 pounds
* 64 days straight of 100+ degree weather
* Trying to figure if going back to school at age 54 makes any sense.

Lest I go on?

Last week I turned 53. Feeling drawn into a deeper mote of mope, I felt the need for a jarring experience. I didn't want to jump out of a plane or ride on my husband's motorcycle. I wanted a controlled leap out the rut. Something to let me know I was alive, but the assurance I'd survive the outcome. Like a ride on the Tilt a Whirl or the Scrambler. Instead, much to my husband and youngest son's surprise, I chose the waterpark, Schlitterbahn.

Best thing I could have chosen.

Even though I was afraid to put this older body into a inner tube and ride through chutes and drops, I did it. My favorite was the free fall slide, just my body on a rolling drop. Even channeled my fear long enough to keep my feet crossed so I wouldn't get a wedgie from the pool at the end of the slide.

At the end of the day, we sat in the swim up hot tub bar, a margarita in hand, and I silently cheered myself. I felt good. Came home with only one bruise on my arm and the knowledge that it wasn't about not being a pussy riding rides or having to do something really stupid to prove something to myself. Instead, taking the opportunity to do something out of the norm. Something beyond the usual.

I still love to lie in my hammock and read for days on end. But I'm not dead yet either.

Suddenly 53 doesn't sound so old.

So, who's got some funk?

funk 2 |fəŋk| |fʌŋk| noun 1 a style of popular dance music of U.S. black origin, based on elements of blues and soul and having a strong rhythm that typically accentuates the first beat in the bar.

Ow!

Please visit my mom at her new blog site Old? Who? Me?

Summer in a Hammock - Reading List

I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

T. S. Eliot

'Tis time to post the summer reading list thanks to all your suggestions. I also included several from my shelf-to-be-read, plus my book club selections for the next few months. If you should come across a good read during the summer, pass it on. Meanwhile, read on, sip iced tea (sweet tea), and read on.

A book is like a garden carried in the pocket.
Chinese Proverb

2009 Summer Suggestions from my blogging friends:

Shanghai Girls -- Lisa See
Coraline, American Gods and Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman (series of three books)
Supreme Being - Christopher Buckley
Tender Graces - Kat Magendie
Twenty Chickens For a Saddle - Robyn Scott
White Heat - Brenda Wineapple
The Bad Mother - Ayelet Walman
The Gate House - Nelson DeMille
The Wind Blows Away Our Words - Doris Lessing
Strangers - Anita Brookner
John Henry Days - Colson Whitehead
Jessie's Girl - Gary Morganstein
Gargoyle - Andrew Davidson
Divsadero - Michael Ondaatje

Books from My Unread Shelf
Traveling Mercies - Anne Lamott
Shakespeare's Kitchen - Lore Segal
The Joy Diet - Martha Beck
Siddhartha - Hermann Hesse
Beloved - Toni Morrison
The Big Rock Candy Mountain - Wallace Stegner
So Brave, Young, and Handsome - Leif Enger
Home - Marilynne Robinson
Word - On Being a (Woman) Writer - edited by Jocelyn Burrell
Escape - Carolyn Jessop
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - Mary Ann Ashffer and Annie Barrows
Ella Minnow Pea - Mark Dunn
The Maytrees - Annie Dillard
The Crimson Petal and the White - Michael Faber
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

Quite the list. Best get started. Happy summer reading.