"G" Authors -- Going to Work, Going Home, Going Criminal?

Author's note: A couple of years ago, my library system added blog posts to our website. Many of the posts were short collections of book reviews, often following a theme. I tried writing a few of these, but never felt like I could keep up with the thought-provoking themes of my librarian colleagues. It was a good challenge, a growth opportunity, and I was honored to have been selected to write for our site. After a few successes, and several wadded-up-and-thrown-in-the-trashcan failures, I realized that what I needed was my old writing partner to get me going again. Enter Polo! 

All of the books reviewed here are available as downloadable audiobooks.


Making Jack Falcone

Joaquin Garcia

A real-life story of the mob, crime, punishment, and maybe justice. Joaquin Garcia is a hulk of an FBI agent who was able to infiltrate one of the biggest crime families on the East Coast. There are scenes of violence, crude language, and every bit of illegal behavior you’d expect to find in a book on this subject. What was most surprising to us, though, was how Mr. Garcia (six feet four inches tall, weighing in at three hundred pounds or more) kept from being recognized over the course of several years and a handful of aliases.

Polo’s thoughts: “Apparently the Mafia doesn’t run Lab tests. One sniff would have sent them running from this ‘Jack Falcone’ guy. Woof!”

Sous Chef

Michael Gibney

Subtitle: 24 Hours on the Line

We picked up this one because one of our favorite people works in a dining establishment of multiple star rating (that is, a classy restaurant). Our person has told stories of stress and intensity, of being slammed with customers and of coworkers who don’t take their turns polishing silver or buffing the glassware. We wanted to see inside a kitchen, and this book gave us that view. Let the listener beware – very salty content.

Polo’s insight: “No wonder my man is exhausted on his days off! The noise and action is too much. I enjoy my kibbles in our own quiet house, thank you very much.”

Mrs. Pollifax Pursued

Dorothy Gilman

(narrated by Barbara Rosenblat)

We enjoy listening to Barbara Rosenblat, and Katharine read all of the Mrs. Pollifax books many years ago. The best thing about Mrs. Pollifax? She’s full of surprises! She dabbles in martial arts, travels extensively to obscure locations, keeps secrets, makes friends, and stirs up trouble while uncovering world-class villains. While she is utterly lovable, she is a force to be reckoned with – but the bad guys never suspect!

Polo’s perception: “Mrs. Pollifax seems like a cat – but a good one, sneaking up on bad guys. She’s all good!”

Camino Island

John Grisham

Although we usually skip bestselling authors (because their books are already in demand, it’s not like they need more publicity, and we like to suggest things that might not be on your radar), we had to choose another “old favorite” and go with Grisham. The story did not disappoint. Great setting, interesting characters, and a plot that is part mystery, part normal life.

Polo’s pondering: “There’s a dog here, but the dog doesn’t get to participate much except to walk on the beach. I like beach. Good story.”

The Stranger Game

Peter Gadol

Pick a stranger, follow them, but don’t let them see you, and see how far you can get away from your own humdrum life routines. The “game” goes from innocent to edgy to… murder??? For the duration of this audiobook, every time I (Katharine) was out alone somewhere, I was tempted to play the game myself. Who doesn’t want to watch, to imagine a story about a person, to throw yourself into an innocent but secret mission?

Polo’s regrets: “I watch people all the time, in front of my house. I’d follow them, too – but I would also bark to let them know I’m here. I’m always ready to play!”

Triggers

Marshall Goldsmith

Eye-opening reminder that I am not in absolute control of my reactions, habits, and go-to behaviors. That sounds harsh, but this author really is gentle. We all have personal triggers – tone of voice, physical tics, even childhood memories – that arouse anger or sadness, fear or compassion. The book is full of helpful advice and real-life examples of both good and not-so-good behavior. Goldsmith takes things to an extreme for himself – he suggests paying someone to be your accountability partner, calling them at the end of every day to rate yourself in a number of areas of concern. I guess that would be like a dieter doing a weigh-in, with an observer holding a clipboard and writing down every scale reading. You don’t have to follow every suggestion in this book, but you’ll probably find insight, encouragement, and challenge here. I did.

Polo’s response: “Squirrel? Trigger! Crow? Trigger! I must bark my loudest at every bad invader! Why would I want to change? Oh – you said dog biscuit? Play with toy? Well…”

The End of the Suburbs

Leigh Gallagher

Polo and I live in the suburbs. Very happily, we thought. But this study of “new urbanism” and other trends of residential life introduced us to different ideas (and ideals) of sustainability, walkability, and community. Descriptions of large, planned communities are appealing, in some ways, and made us reconsider the style of population density to which we are accustomed. Among our extended family, there are people who live right in the city and people who live more than five miles away from a small town, covering a range of lifestyle choices and opportunities. Very eye-opening to ponder the variety of situations that we in North America call home.

Polo’s observation: “I like my yard. I like my neighbor’s yard. I don’t like cars or buses or busy streets. I don’t even like neighbors walking on my part of the street. Woof!”

"A" is for Author -- Listening to Books with Polo, Letter by Letter

This material originally appeared on our library's website. I was fortunate to have been allowed to post book reviews there for a time. Please pardon the awkward formatting -- I'll try to fix it later. 

Sometimes I let my dog pick out books. Polo can’t actually read, so I limit his search options to things we can download and listen to together. I should warn you that Polo’s not a great fan of romance (too mushy), sci-fi (non-human creatures make him bark), or horror (he parks his 80 pounds of fear in my lap), but he enjoys a good mystery and a good all-around story. In order to keep track of new authors, we’re starting to move through the alphabet one letter at a time.

Here are our top three selections from authors whose last names begin with the letter A.

Adrenaline

This book opens with adrenaline, as the main character runs through his parkour workout in a half-constructed building in London. Leaping off one wall, scaling another, flying across gaps two stories high, grasping, clinging, propelling himself to the next ledge. The plot of the entire book follows these unpredictable twists and turns, from one danger to another. Part spy novel, part heartbreaking story of love lost, this was a great listen – and there’s a dog at the end! 

A Darkness Absolute

Way up north in Canada’s Yukon Territory is a secret town. Everyone who lives there has a deep, dark secret. Rockton is forbiddingly remote, a place for extreme witness protection. In deepest winter, the darkness is long and the suspense longer. When a resident takes off, it’s up to the local police force to find him before he freezes to death. But while searching for him, Detective Casey Duncan stumbles upon a woman being held in a cave. Who kidnapped her? How did they keep this secret? Will Casey and Chief Erik Dalton be able to prevent another kidnapping? Not only does this story provide chilling suspense, but Kelley Armstrong builds a fascinating community of characters whose company I missed when the book ended. Good thing there are more titles in this series, and Polo was thrilled about the big puppy who appears midway in this book. 

Thin Places

Skye’s mother disappeared after they were involved in a scary one-car accident. Although Skye was soon placed in a permanent foster home, she never felt like she belonged anywhere. Despite her emotional disconnect, Skye grows up and prepares to go away to college. The mystery of her mother’s disappearance finally begins to come out as Skye develops new friendships and opens up to a counselor. Can she ever have a relationship with her mother again? What happens to the fragile ties with her foster mom? If you haven’t yet read an “indie” book (produced by an independent publisher), try this one. (Although it's not available in audio formats, the book was short enough for me to read aloud with Polo.)

Epic Seattle Adventures, Part One

I had an unexpected opportunity to see a few of THE things to do in Seattle. Here are a few photos from our first stop -- the Space Needle! First time I've been up there since my son became a t**nager lo, those many years ago. (When my kids were adolescents, I vowed I would not say that particular four-letter word.)

Wheel Ferry Crane Port

it was kind of wet that day

"Rain Gets in Your Eyes"

it stopped raining for a while

fall colors

Sea plane! Sea plane! Landing on Lake Union

those hills are pretty marvelous way out there

the Stadia, and that remarkable red building

For authentication purposes, here's a self portrait from the glass-floored observation level. Sorry I didn't think to adjust the lighting, but this is obviously me. You can even see the tread on my left boot.

"F" is for Frolic, Failure, and Fun -- or, Authors Whose Last Names Begin with F

A couple of years ago, my library system added blog posts to our website. Many of the posts were short collections of book reviews, often following a theme. I tried writing a few of these, but never felt like I could keep up with the thought-provoking themes of my librarian colleagues. It was a good challenge, a growth opportunity, and I was honored to have been selected to write for our site. After a few successes, and several wadded-up-and-thrown-in-the-trashcan failures, I realized that what I needed was my old writing partner to get me going again. Enter Polo!

Polo in his reading chair

The next step was figuring out what we could do for themes. I enjoy a range of material from quirky fiction to educational nonfiction, and Polo's game for whatever. How to cover this mix? Let's go alphabetically, by the authors' last names! We like to listen to books (Polo struggles with reading, at least when I'm around), so we only review things we can access via compact discs (audiobook CDs) or electronically (downloadable audiobooks on my phone).

We started listening, reviewing, and posting together on the library website with "A" authors, and the whole process was very satisfying now that we were doing it together. Our posts made it through "E" authors before a website update brought adjustments to the backstage side of the process. Also, my workload seemed to intensify, so we decided it was time to bow-wow out of the website thing. (See what we did there? A little dogga humor!)

And now, feigning fantastic fanfare, Polo and I feature frisky fiction (and whatever) by authors whose last names begin with the letter F.

The Tumbling Turner Sisters

By Juliette Fay

A great story from just past the turn of the century – the last century, that is – complete with cultural references and history made story. An average family is pushed to the brink financially when the father badly injures his hand, and mother and daughters realize it’s up to them to become breadwinners… by creating a Vaudeville act and hitting the road! Ups and downs, twists and turns, as the Tumbling Turner Sisters learn to balance each other, both literally and figuratively. Nothing comes easy for them, but these women have bonds and resilience that carry them forward.

Polo’s considerations: “It would have been helpful if they'd had the companionship of a good dog. I would have helped, but I do not travel.”

The Confusion of Languages

By Siobhan Fallon

How important is cultural awareness when you join your military spouse on assignment to the Middle East? Is attendance at security briefings optional, and can you draw caricatures of the officer presenting this material while he’s speaking? What if you are assigned to acclimate a newly arrived wife, but she resists your help? Told in alternating voices of the experienced, careful Cassie and the upstart, impulsive Margaret, this is an intriguing story of what-ifs and what-now.

Polo’s deliberations: “Again, they could have used a good dog to keep them safe. Margaret needed a herding breed to keep her in check.”

The Mitford Murders – A Mystery

By Jessica Fellowes

You may have heard of Julian Fellowes, creator of the award-winning Downton Abbey television series. His niece, Jessica Fellowes, has collaborated with him to write companion pieces for Downton Abbey, and she has crafted this wonderful period mystery set in the early 1900s. Strong characters, evocative scenery and characters, and a tricky tale of murder make this a winning audiobook.

Polo’s opinion: “The best stories have dogs in them. This is a very good story, complete with a dog and a couple of young human children.”

Being Educated by "Educated"

I don't usually read bestsellers. At least, not while they are still on the bestseller list. The main reason is that I don't feel any need to jump on the bandwagon. The other big reason is that I don't think to put myself on the waitlist for soon-to-be-published hot titles, and once I notice the new book, the hold list is way long. So I don't bother.

But I have friends who recommend books. In fact, they're professionals when it comes to suggesting the next great read. How can I help but get excited? So I put myself on the list for Tara Westover's memoir, Educated. Homeschooled girl from strict religious family makes it big in academia, despite not having any formal instruction in history, science, or math. How did she break free to enter university? How did she manage to earn multiple degrees? How did she overcome her extremely isolated childhood?

When I listened, engrossed, I found the audiobook was more of a horror story. Over and over, I perched on the edge of my seat. "Run! Run from the house before the crazed ax murderer catches up with you! Get away from the giant metal-eating behemoth machine before it crushes you! Tell someone about your brother slamming your head into the wall!"

This is a story of abuse. So much abuse, for so many years. The breaking free was not so much about education, although that certainly was her ticket to a completely different world. As is so common for people who experience domestic violence, it seems impossible to sever the ties that bind them to their abusers. That is the horror of this story. And that is the reader's opportunity for education.

Well-Known People Here -- Right Here!

Libraries are gathering places for people who like books. But they're also places where interesting ideas are exchanged, where stories are told and culture is shared. And, occasionally, where famous or semi-famous names may appear.

In my oh-so-long library career, I have been privileged to attend a lot of programs and some very good staff training events. And I have met a total of three "famous" people in these official settings. (I can't talk about all the famous people I've helped. Patron privacy is a big deal in the library.)

The first big name was Nancy Pearl, known first as a Seattle librarian, then as the author of the Book Lust series of books and broadcasts. She is so well known that she has her own action figure! Not only does she know a lot about a lot of books, but she teaches others how to identify certain elements about the last good book they read. This, in turn, helps form ideas about what sort of book to suggest next. Great workshop, excellent presentation.

My next famous meeting was with a children's music performer, who also was part of a rock band some time ago. He gave up the nighttime gig in favor of family, and nonchalantly shook my hand as he said, "Hi, I'm Caspar Babypants." Wow. Way to embrace your alter ego, Chris!

Last weekend, a retired TV meteorologist came to talk about the dangers and wonders of mountain weather. What a voice! I had been accustomed to hearing him on our local news broadcasts for twenty years or more, but that was on television. Hearing him speak -- live and in person -- made me a little giddy. Jeff Renner really, really, has a great set of baritone pipes!

So, that's it for celeb sightings so far. But, coming up next month, my brother asked me to get an autographed copy of J.A. Jance's latest novel. She's coming to my library! My brother is a fan, and they have a mutual friend, and she's coming to MY library! It will be great fun to listen to her stories about writing, maybe take a few photos, and then get that book signed for my brother. Woot!

Jeff Renner at my library

Hello? Hi? Is Anybody There?

Golly, when did the wallpaper get changed to this very innocuous light blue fluff? At least I fixed the text so it's black on white. More readable and all that, you know. I've learned a little about writing with accessibility on the Web.

So I've been paying a lot of attention to that daily time-stealing, friend-conversing, mainly-used-by-my-generation face thing. A lot of attention, as in, several years' worth of attention. One lonely blog post here last year. Yikes. I'm sorry! I think often about blogging, but it takes so much time and energy to write up and edit (and edit, and re-edit) multiple paragraphs here. Meanwhile, on that other platform, there are pretty pictures and greetings from friends and more pictures, and I can scroll through a hundred short pieces in an hour and feel as though I've caught up with my people.

But this blog thing has value. Sure, the posts really are short, and they're not deeply personal, but I can pretend that hundreds of kind strangers (or no one at all) will read and nod in understanding. Is there still a place for blogs any more? My, how quickly things change.

I'm blogging for work, though only occasionally. I'm supposed to be able to post book suggestions -- not reviews, exactly, because I don't think I should say that something is so awful that no one should pick it up. I wanted to do this because it's writing, and I'm a writer. (Being a writer, in this case, does not necessarily mean that anyone will choose to read my writings. But I like to write.) Once I got all trained and instructed in the professional aspects of writing for work, I did a few posts... and lost my motivation. Crickets.

Recently, however, I re-discovered my muse and became re-energized to blog again. My alter ego, my writer-side, was right there in front of me all the time. I just hadn't been looking to him for help, because this was supposed to be professional, you know, for my career, writing. This muse of mine, you see, has a sweet face, a black and pink mottled nose, and a long wagging tail. It's Polo. It's so much easier to imagine my dog's responses to things than to write my own highly edited thoughts. Polo is straightforward, honest, and only a little bit cynical about human nature. He's kind and witty. And he uses a simpler vocabulary than I can muster. (Another rule about writing for the work blog is to keep it very readable for English language learners. I don't mean to sound high-falutin' -- it just happens to be how the words fly off my fingers.)

So, I'm taking my dog to work these days, hoping he can get away with writing book stuff for me. We'll see how it goes. At least 30% of the blog posts on our website are read by fellow staff members, and everything is carefully reviewed as soon as it's published. If Polo isn't allowed on that blog, at least he can come back here to lend a paw regularly.

Thanks for checking in. I'll try to get back here more often. Mostly, I'll try to write. Somewhere. Like this guy on the side of a building at the University of Washington. Because he's been at it a long time, and he isn't finished yet.

Does This Derny Make Me Look Dorky?

Maybe it's just that I was tired when I started watching, but the Olympic sport of Women's Keirin was such an amazing spectacle.

It starts on the steeply banked velodrome track, riders' feet buckled onto their pedals, embracing the men who are their handlers. Waiting for the start. Waiting for... the uniformed guy on a motorized bicycle to come around the track behind them, making the turn, riding on the inside lane.

This guy is sitting very upright. None of the hunched-over streamlined posture for him. His helmet is the round, nerdy type. He wears khakis and a polo shirt in the Rio Olympics colors. And he's not pedalling.

So the best funny thing is this dorky guy -- riding a thing called a derny. ("Hello! You're in the Olympics? What's your athletic event?" "I drive the derny." Silence.) He doesn't have to look athletic. He doesn't have to be athletic. He just has to ride around the track, five and a half times (if you don't count the first half lap before the official start), sitting straight up, looking straight ahead, increasing his speed only incrementally through each lap.

Finally, after watching this measured procession around and around and around the track, the derny pulls out and the sprint ensues. This is when the cyclists get down and dirty, jockeying for new positions, sizing up the field, knowing when to push to the head of the pack for the lead. This is when all the strategy they've had in their heads comes to fruition. This is the action. Two and a half laps of all-out, adrenaline-revving sprint riding. "He's gone! Let's go!"

The photo below is not from this year's Olympic event, but I love how this dernyman looks a bit like a traffic patrol officer. All business. Do not exceed the speed limit. Period. This portion of the race is not. a. race.

Eagles in the Tree, Snails on the Fence

I went walking... by the river, where the eagles live. Mama eagle was posing for the paparazzi, but they all had four-foot-long megalenses that made me feel like I'd rather keep walking and see what I could see on my own.

Who knew that snails climb fences? Maybe to keep away from the nesting geese? There was a tiny narwhal-bird in the top of a nearby tree. And I love that Indian plum is one of the very first spring bloomers.

Some thoughts on my shyness. When I feel self-conscious, I lose most of my social graces. Sure, I can put on an act of warm effusiveness, but that takes effort and brain-energy. Those are the times when I lose people's names, or forget that I just greeted this patron five minutes ago. Ugh.

On the other hand, shyness lets me explore on my own, looking for the ordinary extraordinary details that are often overlooked. Like a snail on the fence, or the hummingbird in the tree just a ways down from the giant eagle.

Therefore, being introverted is a blessing and a curse. But mostly, a blessing. And I'm grateful. Mostly. Because I do enjoy noticing the little things. Thanks, God.

Canyon Sunday

Here is a glimpse of what I was doing a couple of days ago. Had to drive home from a conference... chose to stop SO MANY times to take photos.

It impresses me that God didn't create a stagnant world. Those rock formations probably didn't start out tilted, right? They got moved. Who would have the power to move them?

               O God, when Thou didst go forth before Thy people,
               When Thou didst march through the wilderness,
               The earth quaked;
               The heavens also dropped rain at the presence of God;
               Sinai itself quaked at the presence of God, the God of Israel.

Are You Ready to RUMMMMBLLLLLLLE?

Welcome to our 20th season with the Chargers! The team I love because they wear my initials... and because the coaching staff is great, and they let me be on the sidelines instead of far away in the stands! My excitement for the first game is like a kid on Christmas Eve. It's here -- let's get started!

Thanks to the wonders of modern computing (I guess), the printed score books I'd used have become obsolete. A few years ago, I designed my own, drawing it on graph paper and getting it printed each season. This year, it seemed like time for a change, so I have been working on an Excel template instead. I still want to fill it out by hand -- if I entered the data directly onto my laptop, I'd be stuck way up in the stands. Where's the fun in that?

So, I printed a few sheets of the new form and looked for a recorded game to use for a test. The first one I found was an AFC Divisional Playoff between the Bills and the Browns. This was in 1989, recorded from television and posted on YouTube. No computerized markers to show line of scrimmage or first down, fewer replays, sideline camera angles -- a pretty good simulation of real life for tonight's high school game. I had forgotten Bernie Kosar's sideways stance under center. The commentators recounted Ron Middleton's highs and lows as his son was born 12 weeks premature and Ron was released and rehired a couple of times that year. I remembered a few names -- Jim Kelly, Pete Metzelaars, Thurman Thomas, Cornelius Bennett, Ozzie Newsome. In a promo for the next day's game, baby-faced Bob Costas and OJ Simpson were pictured. My, how the times change.

Ahhh... good nostalgia. But now I must make a few last adjustments to the score sheets and get them printed again. Sharpen the pencils, dig out the clipboard, it's time for FOOTBALL!

Oh, and if you'd like to share my little trip down memory lane, here's the link to that video. Enjoy!

Can I Just Say That God Ate My Homework?

This week's assignment... shooting a single subject with varied focal lengths. It took me a couple of days, but I figured out what props I wanted to use and how I might set the scene. Here it is, up close and personal, without background or variances:

The sun was very close to dropping below the horizon, so I hurried off several shots with the wrong shutter speeds, incorrect apertures, and no sun filter. Meh and bleh. Good ideas, but bad light. But then, this began to happen:

Are those sky jellies?

Meanwhile, off to the east...

Add moon...

and eight tiny reindeer...

And there you have it -- my excuse for not finishing my photography homework tonight.   

                   

Thy lovingkindness, O Lord, extends to the heavens,

They faithfulness reaches to the skies.

Well... so maybe I shouldn't use God as my excuse... but still... He did this... and it was amazing!

Details, Details -- Who's Minding the Net?

I don't know much about football. However, for more than 25 years I've walked the sidelines of three high school varsity teams, doing their scorebooks. From that vantage point, I couldn't tell you if the guards were pulling or what kind of defensive coverage is being used. But I see things, and I hear things.

One of the long-time volunteers with my current team is responsible for all the equipment. Coach D oversees, in a most obsessive manner, everything from game balls to helmet straps to the coaches' audio gear. He's loud, intense, and sometimes obnoxious about it. But he's been there almost as long as me, so I guess he's glad to be there.

My hometown pro team [GO, HAWKS!] played an okay game this week, but I didn't get to view the absolutely spectacular end of this game until several days later. I watched the NFL.com play-by-play synopsis online while I was at work on Sunday and felt a little of the drama of that amazing comeback and win. [WE'RE GOING TO THE SUPERBOWL!!!] Even though I knew the outcome, I was amazed to see those final minutes unfold. Wow! Just, WOW!

As I watched the incredible plays by the Seahawks, and the mounting failures by the Packers, I noticed one striking detail. During Green Bay's final offensive drive at the end of the fourth quarter, the camera cut to their kicker, Mason Crosby, doing a few practice kicks on the sideline. The Packers were aiming for a touchdown, and they were moving the ball down the field pretty effectively, but Crosby knew he had to be ready just in case.

One thing about his preparations bothered me, though. The net into which he was kicking was half off of its frame. Twice in the highlight video, he tried to reattach it, to no avail.

Here's the net, hanging lopsidedly while he kicks into it...

And trying to tuck it back where it belongs again...

Crosby made his field goal, tying the game near the end of regulation. Great save! But... why was no one there to fix the practice net for him? Why wasn't there a Coach D running over to grumble and straighten things out? How can it be that no one -- apparently -- was standing by the kicker, the guy who could save the team from losing the NFC Championship? Where's the support?

The following passage says it well:

For even as the body is one and yet has many members, and all the members of the body, thought they are many, are one body, so also is Christ. For the body is not one member, but many.

If the physical body is the team, you know that all members of the team are important. Every player, every coach, every equipment manager plays a role that may prove vital to the outcome of the game. In spiritual terms, the body is the Church, the local or universal network of people who follow Christ. Each person has a role, a talent, a style, that contributes something unique to the whole. Some are visible, some are vocal, others are supportive background folks who see a need and quietly fill it. And some are obsessive, loud, and intense, but they still provide necessary aid. They're the ones who might notice a problem with the net, and step in to set it right.

Green Bay could use their own Coach D, but they're going to have to look elsewhere. Our Coach D is just fine right here, wearing our green and gold. [Go Chargers!]

I Miss Blogging

Hi! Welcome back -- and I'm not sure if I mean that for you or for myself. I think about this blog often, but there are other things grabbing my attention and time these days. Blogging just kind of drops off the list, you know? Some amazing things have been happening, especially in my family. This has never been too precise of a blog-o-log, though, as I didn't want it to be all about me. So much easier (and less personal) to have the dogs write it.

So, you ask, what about the dog? Polo is well and happy. He has a bum knee that will not allow him to go on walks unless he has surgery. There's plenty to do at home, thankfully -- and staying home means no car entrapment! Polo specializes in home protection. Squirrels, cats, pugs, and children on bicycles are all kept at bay by the sheer power of his bark. Oh, and also neighborhood ducks, raccoons, possums, coyotes, motorcycles, and trucks. And some of my friends.

When he's not barking at all passers-by, he may be found sunning himself on the back deck or lounging inside on the couch. We're all about his comfort.

Why is it I don't have much to write about? Oh, well. Polo might end up writing the same thing every day. Maybe that's not a bad thing.

Contentment with Limited Perspective?

How does it make you feel when you know you can't see the whole, big picture? Being "limited" is a bad thing, right? I can only make an informed decision if I have all the facts! But we cannot possess all the information that exists. We may think we know it all, but our minds are distinctly finite.

Open Sails on the Sound

These limited perspectives were photographed through the stationary binoculars at the Nisqually Wildlife Refuge.

Far-off Bridge

Top o' the Mountain

More of the Mountain

Although the size of the viewing field is small, the magnification is great -- better than my camera's zoom, and much better than the naked eye.










Across the top quarter of this photo, you can see a portion of the Narrows Bridge. That's a good ten miles from where I stood.













And then there's Mount Rainier. Here you see part of the summit. Distance, about 40 miles as the crow flies.














This pic of The Mountain reminds me of photos taken from the windows of spacecraft, looking back at Earth.







I had fun playing with my toys, both in shooting these photos and cropping them later. Taking advantage of limited perspective, if you will. The narrow view (no pun intended) lends itself to a different kind of contemplation. Maybe it's good to be reminded of our limitations.

Paul noted something like this --

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I shall know fully just as I also have been fully known.

One day, we will know all about everything. One day, we will understand. One day, all will be revealed. Until then, I can trust God who fully knows, completely understands, and whose will is being accomplished. He's looking out for my very best interests, and He sees the minute details as well as the really big picture.

"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the Lord, "Plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope."

We don't get it all now, but it's okay. Might as well make the most of this and enjoy what we've got!

What's Hotter Than a Hot-Button?

[Spoiler alert: I'm not going to tell you the question.]

I work with the public. I thoroughly enjoy working with -- and for -- the public. Sometimes there are odd things that happen, or dumb questions that get asked, but I consider these to be par for the course. After all, I do plenty of odd things and regularly ask my fair share of dumb questions.

But there's one thing... there's one topic... actually, one question... that I abhor. I can't stand it. Last week, it almost drove me to curse. It's a dumb question, asked innocently enough, but when I hear it... I spout steam and smoke and fire out of my nostrils. IT MAKES ME REALLY, REALLY ANGRY.

Enough about me. Let's talk about you.

Is there one thing that makes your blood boil? Is there a subject that you wish could be made permanently off-limits? Maybe it's the way something is said, the tone of voice or an underlying accusation, that gets your goat. Or perhaps it's a long-buried memory that isn't dead after all, and it rears its ugly head at the mention of an associated idea.

I got it again today. Out of the blue, as always. And I'm seething! I hate hearing this! May I curse now?! If only there were words that would blow off my steam, I'd shout them.

Everyone's got a hot-button, I suppose. Probably most people have figured out how to get over it, too. I mean, you have to be able to get over it. Whatever it is, it's going to keep coming up. That's life.

Breathe...

Okay, I'm feeling better now. Thanks for letting me vent. But do you ever feel this way? I'd like to know.

A Whale of a Nice Day

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...

The first football game of the season is only a few hours away. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, it's not too hot, and Polo just had a good run in the back yard. Except for my little virus, all is well. So, you ask, how's business at the library?

Work has been busy. Several years ago, August was such a quiet month that we did major projects -- such as checking in the entire collection of movies and music, replacing worn cases, making sure our records were up to date. Then, September would hit us hard with a sudden surge of library patrons. These days, the summer isn't that quiet, but I'm sure we'll still feel slammed once school gets going.

Although I have no trouble wasting time -- sometimes whole days -- at home, I hate not being busy at work. After all, I'm there to do something, not sit around. It's way more fun to be challenged and active there. When the phones aren't ringing and the patrons aren't needy, I get fidgety.

Come to think of it, Polo gets the same way. He can take long naps, but there comes a point in his day when he needs to do something. If no one is paying attention to him, the easiest thing is for him to pick up a shoe or sock, or look for something near the edge of a counter that he can reach. Then he holds it in his mouth and runs up and down the stairs, up and down, up and down, waiting for us to chase him and take it back.

This week, I've learned that Polo knows a new phrase: "Play ball!" When he hears these words, he is morethanready to pound some sod and chase flying spheres in the back yard.

Polo hates being bored at home. I hate being bored at work. Maybe I'll pack a tennis ball in my lunch bag tomorrow -- it's bound to be a slow day at the library.

Two Weddings and... uh...

Presto change-o! Within a couple of months, two of my sons became engaged. As in, they're planning to be married! Woo hoo! Do you know what this means? All those stories I've heard about kids growing up -- those were definitely true. But all those stories I've heard about kids leaving the nest to build their own lives? It appears that those stories may be true, also! Amazing! This may be proof -- one of the boys acquired an apartment last week, and he has been living there for three days! It's empty, he's alone, but he's got a bed and utilities and maybe some food in the cupboards, and he's loving it.

Economic circumstances being what they are, this has been a difficult time for my guys to strike out in independence. The desire has been there for a long time, but the boys just couldn't afford to get their own places. A few years ago, I had an interesting conversation with a hairdresser about this. We were making small talk -- do you have kids? how many? how old? When I admitted that all my sons still lived at home, she was totally supportive. In her cultural mindset, it's expected that the kids should stay home until they are really ready to be on their own. A solid career is a must, and a solid relationship is preferred, before there's any talk of leaving the parental home. On top of that, she saw it as a positive thing that my sons were willing to stay at home after high school. That's a marker of a decent family life, she said.

I was kind of taken aback. Not that I didn't agree, but I'd never heard these things spoken with such directness. She made me ponder my own expectations. In my family of origin, finances dictated that my brothers had to live at home through all four years of college. One moved across the country to attend graduate school, but the other stuck around a couple more years while he searched for a decent career. When I came of age, I took my cousin's advice and went away to college. After a year, I got married and never looked back. For me (and perhaps my brothers), it was most comfortable to move away to learn independence; distance gave me strength.

Anyway, back to the present. I'm thrilled, ecstatic, joyful, grateful, and happy that these two wonderful gals will be entering our family! I'm beginning to see myself in a new role, a new season of life. I'm not sure, but I think that becoming a mother-in-law means I'm grown up... as much as I'll ever be.

Oh, and the son who's not preparing to tie the knot? He says he's too smart to leave home for a while. He'll have three bedrooms to himself, and his mother in the basement.



P.S. The flower pictured above is from one of my future daughters-in-law. So nice!

Let's Get Medical

All right, I've had enough. The pain in my foot isn't severe, and it's not as serious as my very first flare-up, but I'm tired of ending the day with a sore heel. I'm tired of having to always sit with my legs crossed because it's too uncomfortable to put weight on my tender heel. I'm tired of thinking about plantar fasciitis.

This week, I'm going to my podiatrist to see about getting a cortisone injection. Take THAT, plantar fascia!

I don't mind wearing sensible shoes. It doesn't matter that my orthotics have to fit inside of them. The foot brace I wear to bed every night isn't any bother. But I've had enough of this nagging pain that should be curable.

Now, if I live through the injection, I should feel better soon. After that, the next thing will be to get Polo more accustomed to riding in the car to our walk sites.

*****

THURSDAY UPDATE:

I had the injection about four hours ago. My doctor was amazingly smooth about the procedure -- although I kind of wanted to see the needle and maybe watch it go in, he made sure I couldn't even get a glimpse of anything. It hurt, but my foot hurts some days anyway. I was glad when he said he was done! For now, it's ice alternating with heat, and comedy TV. I've got a good stack of books, but don't have much concentratability right now.

Aren't you glad you asked?

Behind the Curtain...

Oh, the dangers of channel surfing. Last night, I came across a documentary on PBS... okay, not my usual genre... but it was so much MORE than a documentary.

One of my favorite TV programs is the Red Green Show. It reminds me of things my dad and his older brother might have done, if there had been duct tape in the 1920's. (Happy birthday, Dad. I miss you.) Red Green is this middle-aged dude who loves his wife but cannot be trusted to be safe out of her sight. Since she never appears on the show, he's pretty much always making trouble or blowing up an engine or scheming about a Possum Lodge activity.

But I digress. Red has a dorky, inept nephew named Harold. (Harold Green is on your far left in the above photo.) Of course, Harold isn't quite as dumb as Red thinks, and he often rescues Red from the best [worst] of his plans gone haywire. Patrick McKenna is Harold, and Harold is Patrick McKenna. Period. Or so I thought.

This documentary had me on the edge of my seat for 90 minutes. Why? Because it's hosted by none other than Patrick McKenna, as himself! It's amazing -- like when a clown removes his makeup and speaks in a normal voice! Like when the wizard comes out from behind the Oz curtain! Like when Mrs. Doubtfire turns into Daniel Hillard!

So, if you've ever watched the Red Green Show, or if you know anyone who might have ADD, catch the next showing of ADD And Loving It?! on PBS. It's humorous and informative, and Patrick McKenna has a really cool wife who loves him a lot. Go figure!