Category: Books, TV & Music

The purpose of hobbies

I had a beautiful run of good golf, so I’ve been playing a lot, trying to savor the last of the good weather, and as it turns out, my good golf. What a game. It must be there are just a few people who can play consistently well. For the rest of us, it’s mostly bitter disappointment mitigated by tiny spurts of proficiency and eternal hope.

But that’s why I have lots of hobbies. So disappointment is a moving target.

I’m thinking the key is diversity of interests. When you get pissed off at one, move on to the next until you can come back and play nice with the others.

And so, with golf turning out to be such treacherous jerk, I turned to my friend Art and completed Number 40!

For some strange reason, I went with a Christmas theme. You may recall I don’t like Christmas all that much, although I’m into the food part and regularly make decorated cookies and other holiday treats. I think I wanted to see if I could capture some of the iconic images of the season.

As it happens, I actually like Number 40! Maybe it will make a believer out of me. Probably not, but I still like it.

I haven’t decided whether I should hang it on the wall with all the others or box it up with almost nonexistent holiday decorations and trot it out sometime in December. We have a big nutcracker from Germany, and that’s about it for seasonal décor, so I’m leaning toward another brick on the wall.

That reminds me last year I convinced Dale not to get a tree, so I suppose I will have to go along with that mess this year. I’d better start preparing myself now. By the way, I’m doing that with politics, too. Preparing myself for the worst so whatever happens won’t be such a shock. I’ve already rehearsed in my head how I will stay calm if it all goes to hell.

Anyway, I do like the tree in the end, particularly the part where Dale decorates and I drink Single Malt Scotch. But overall, I see Christmas trees as a long run for the short slide.

Aside from bad golf and visions of sugar-plums, I was feeling sad that I finished the Easy Rawlins series by Walter Mosley. I prowled around the internet to see if there was a new one on the horizon. There isn’t, but I found a six-book series by Mosley featuring Leonid McGill. I’m in the library queue for the first one, so I should get that next week.

Current reading is the Longmire series by Craig Johnson. As for the books, I like them but don’t love them. I used to say that about men. With a few exceptions, it mostly still applies.

Free from Amazon Prime was a twister called Twenty Years Later by Charlie Donlea. It’s about a woman accused of murder and headed for a trial when she is killed on 9/11. An investigative reporter starts unraveling the story 20 years later, and there are surprises everywhere. I enjoyed it.

Have you seen Killers of the Flower Moon? I haven’t read the book, and I was thinking about doing that first, but this might be one time when the movie wins. However, I haven’t been to a theater in years, and I’m not sure I can sit for 3.5 hours. Still, I actually think I might rather sit in a theater for that duration as opposed to my living room …

Fewer distractions and the popcorn is better!

You had me at croutons

I’m making Caesar salads for dinner tonight, and I wouldn’t even bother if it weren’t for homemade croutons. Such a simple pleasure and so damned good.

Easy, too. I used Italian rolls from the freezer. Thawed them out, cut them in cubes and then tossed the cubes with melted butter and salt. Then you just spread them out on a sheet pan and brown in a 400-degree oven.

For the salad, I start with romaine lettuce and whisk together a dressing made with anchovies mashed with a couple of garlic cloves, olive oil, a one-minute egg and fresh lemon juice. Then toss the whole thing with freshly grated Parmesan Reggiano.  

Top each salad with those amazing croutons.

I was trying to start the second Louise Penny book while the croutons were browning, but I didn’t get very far. You do have to watch them. But I have some time after I’m done here, and I’d like to see how far I can get in the book before dinner. That’s when I do my best reading.

If I go horizontal after I’m fed, it’s all over.

Lupin, one of my favorite Netflix shows has new episodes. I watched two last night! The French mystery follows Assane Diop, the son of an immigrant from Senegal who had come to France to seek a better life for his child. The father gets framed for a theft and hangs himself in prison. Assane is orphaned but grows up to become a professional thief and master of disguise who avenges his father’s death.

Speaking of simple pleasures, I’ve been buying artisan chocolate instead of the drugstore varieties I used to favor. One of my favorites is Dick Taylor, and I just toured the factory in Eureka when I visited my sister last week.

They had bins, yes bins, of samples in very small pieces, which I liked a lot. It doesn’t take much to fully enjoy the experience of chocolate. I bought a few bars of the 72% Belize dark chocolate to take home. With a discount for taking the tour!

Here’s my indulgence. I break the bar into roughly dime-sized pieces and store it in a zipper-lock bag. I pull two pieces out after breakfast and begin with several sips of hot coffee to pre-warm my mouth. Then I slide in one little piece and let that luscious chocolate melt slowly on the tongue, swishing it about the mouth, savoring the complex flavors. No chewing allowed.

And then I do it again.

OK. It’s just two small pieces of chocolate, but it’s almost like meditation.

Nothing and everything

Death Valley is a taboo subject at our house, but a couple of you asked what happened to that trip, so here goes.

As you may recall, Dale had been wanting to go in the dead of summer, while I wanted to go in the winter, when normal people visit. I finally caved and said, fine, we’ll go in the summer. We were scheduled to go smack dab in the middle of July. Plenty hot, one would assume.

But I had second thoughts. I mean, we’re not as heat resistant as we used to be. I had a million other reasons for not going, but Dale was excited. I’m not sure he ever understood death was not just a name but an option.

To help me plead my case, I found a video of a couple touring Death Valley in the summer with their two children. It was about 20 minutes long, and not the finest cinema out there, but it told a story.

Basically, they drove from one site to the next, got out of the car and then got back in before they died from exposure, never actually seeing the sites as they were meant to be experienced.

I made Dale watch the video, and he said it was 20 minutes of his life he’ll never get back. However, he also said it didn’t sound like fun to drive around all day after driving eight hours just to get there, especially when it was more of a whim than anything else.  

A whim was it? We agreed to cancel.

On the day we would have arrived in Death Valley, the temperature was 129 degrees Fahrenheit. I let out a big sigh of relief and said something to the effect of thank the Great Planner we didn’t go. I figured Dale would nod in agreement. Instead, he looked at me with disgust and said, “We could have been there.”

And that is why we don’t speak of Death Valley anymore. There will come a day when we will try again, but it is not this day.   

In other travel news, we’re doing an overnighter to Sonoma this week. I don’t expect any drama, but I’ve been wrong before. Oh, and my 50th high school reunion was this weekend, but I did not go. Certainly, there were people I would have enjoyed seeing, but I’m not good in large social settings. At other events, I have been known to find one person and cling pathologically to them for the duration, ruining their opportunities for what I’m told is happy mingling.

Staying home was the humane thing to do.   

You know I love reading a crime series. Up until now, I’ve concentrated on one series at a time. I was well into the Easy Rawlins series by Walter Mosley, when I saw a new Lincoln Lawyer book by Michael Connelly was going to be published in November. I decided to read those, too .

That went so well, I added two more to the mix. The Walt Longmire series by Craig Johnson and the Inspector Gamache series by Louise Penny. I’m surprised to find I like having a variety on hand, and it helps with library choices in case the next one in my queue is checked out.  Yes, I only read them in order and have a spreadsheet to help me keep track.

A word about Inspector Gamache. These are popular books, especially after the TV show Three Pines came out. I’ve checked out the first book, Still Life, at least four times but never read it. I finally said, this is it. Read this book or hide your head in shame forever!

I didn’t like it at first, because I tend to favor mysteries featuring the hard-boiled private investigator. But once I accepted it’s a different subgenre, I calmed down and began to enjoy the book immensely. The writing is so intelligent with spot-on literary and cultural references … but never pretentious. The setting is almost like a cozy mystery, but then there’s plenty of murder and dark despair to go around.

Maybe it was reading about the idylic village of Three Pines, but it seems there’s a hint of fall in the air, and I just want to cook, cook, cook. I love savory pumpkin dishes and have a decent collection of recipes I want to try.  How about creamy kale and pumpkin soup? That sounds great to me. Dale? Kale? Not so much, but he’ll eventually go along for the ride. Or a pumpkin stew with juicy chunks of beef and maybe some curry seasoning.

Sometimes I have to pinch myself. I still get asked, “What do you do all day?” Ha! Nothing and everything.

Friday traditions

We thought being trapped in the mud after the heavy rains would be the worst of it, but then, exhausted and still a little hung-over, we ventured out from our soaked and filthy tent to join 70,000 other desperate souls trying make their way home after an epic adventure at the Burning Man festival in Nevada.  

Um, well, not us, exactly – but somebody, maybe? Just having a little fun over here at Chez Boring … which is just how I like it.

No holidays where we have to fly anywhere, thank you very much. I spent most of the summer playing golf early to avoid the heat. I played with a guy the other day who told his wife he didn’t want to go anywhere anymore – just to the golf course and back. I bowed my head in silent admiration.

Oh, I got new glasses and had to drive 30 minutes to find the same frames so I wouldn’t have to get anything different. When I was online trying to find identical frames, I saw an ad for an optometric shop with the slogan “Life is too short for boring frames.” I was like, no, no, not for Donna. I’m sticking with black until something darker comes along.

Our Friday tradition is Dale’s homemade pizza and a movie. In preparation, we made a liquor store run to get “back-up beer.” We have a kegerator, and there’s no gauge to tell you when it’s getting low. You can pick it up and see if it feels lighter, but Dale prefers to go with my recommendation, based on my reputation as “the beer whisperer.”

What can I say? I just have this second sense when the keg is getting low.

A second keg will fit in there until the first one kicks. That’s the back-up beer. Today’s choice is Panic IPA by Track Seven Brewery. Before the pandemic, a few of us in the cul-de-sac used to have driveway parties, and Dale would wheel the kegerator out onto the front porch for the neighbors to enjoy. We were the envy of the hood, and not just because we’re young and good-looking.

Then everyone went inside their houses and never came out.

Tonight’s pizza has a OO crust topped with a creamy white garlic parmesan cheese sauce. Then two more cheeses – whole milk mozzarella and smoked gouda. The rest of the toppings are smoked salmon, capers, red onion and diced fresh tomatoes. It’s one of our favorites.

I’m not sure which movie we’ll watch. We’ve been focusing on bad 50s monster movies and have watched 30 of them to date! The Amazon watchlist keeps expanding. Most are pretty awful often involving an inquisitive scientist with a beautiful (unattached) daughter and a confident (unattached) military man sent to investigate strange goings on. Surprisingly, the monsters are few and far between.   

We laugh a lot, so there’s that.

I’m reading The Fifth Witness by Michael Connelly. This is book four of seven in the Lincoln Lawyer series and it parallels the second season of the TV show, which puts a different spin on the character Lisa Trammell. I like both versions, but they are quite different. There will be a new book in the series published in November, so now’s the time to catch up!

The weather is really beautiful here in Northern California, so we’re just trying to enjoy it. Dale and I always talk about hiking when it’s not too hot, but then we never do it. We agreed this week to try and do a hike every Thursday. There will be some weeks when it won’t work for various reasons, but I wanted to pick a specific day so when I book appointments, I’ll know to keep Thursdays open.

I know, so busy am I.

No such thing as bad weather

October will be six years since I retired, and I’m getting better at it all the time. I’m better at relaxing, not stressing out, not regretting and just enjoying the time that has been given to me.

I had my annual physical this week, and all my blood work came back fine, including my CA-125, which is a metric used in diagnosing and monitoring ovarian cancer. Mine was a perfect seven. I’ve been disease-free for more than 24 years, but every single time I see that number, I tear up. I feel so lucky.

For some strange reason, the dramatic weather associated with climate change is helping me accept the seasons as they come. My new mantra is there’s no such thing as bad weather. It’s just weather. Yes, it’s hot now, but it will be cool later. Enjoy each day as it comes.

I mentioned my new-found acceptance to Dale, who looked at me like I was from outer space. I mean, isn’t what everybody does? Not me – in the winter, I would complain about the cold. I couldn’t wait for summer. Then when summer arrived, I was mad it didn’t last long enough.

Now, I just want to make the most of whatever nature throws our way. Instead of dreading winter, I thought, well, I could start with getting a decent jacket. Look better, feel better, right? For the past eight years, I have been wearing a fleece freebie I got at a corporate retreat (complete with corporate logo).

As it turns out, Dale was also looking to upgrade his winter look, so we went to REI and threw some money at it. I got a cool black cropped puffy jacket from North Face, and Dale bought an REI puffy jacket in blue. I like how mine fits at high hip … much more flattering on me than mid-thigh.

We always joke it’s cold out when the Californians trot out the puffy coats. At least now we’ll fit in. Well, probably not, but it’s a start.

Books & TV

I’ve been reading more than watching. As per usual, crime fiction is my genre of choice, and I particularly love reading a series from beginning to end. I just finished book nine of the Easy Rawlins series by Walter Mosley.

Easy is very much the hard-boiled private eye, which I like a lot, but I also enjoy reading about the African-American experience in California – starting with post-WWII and currently addressing the Watts riots, also known as the Watts Rebellion. It’s interesting to see how Easy evolves. He’s an educated, self-taught man who can easily speak the King’s English or slip into a country dialect people often expect from a poor black man of his time. He uses both forms of communication to his advantage.

Sometimes I’ll hear about a new book coming out, but it’s not the first in the series, so I have decisions to make. I recently read a review of Evergreen by Naomi Hirahara, and it sounded great, but then I realized it was the second in the series. The first one, Clark and Division, was at the library, so I read that first and am now on the waiting list for the new one.

The story focuses on a Japanese-American family in California after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Guided by fear and prejudice, the U.S. government incarcerates the family in Manzanar and eventually relocates them to Chicago. Rose Ito, the older sister, is sent first. The younger sister, Aki, is 20, and she and the rest of the family arrive in Chicago to find Rose has been killed by a subway train. Aki investigates the death, and the family tries to adjust to life in Chicago.

In addition to being an entertaining mystery, the book personalizes a tragic chapter in American history. And in California’s history. It does seem as though I’m attracted to historical fiction that tells the story of those who have been badly treated by the system, and sadly, there’s no shortage of material.

Another tactic is to re-read a series when a new book comes out. I saw a new Mickey Haller novel by Michael Connelly is due out in November. I’ve read some but not all of the series, so I decided to start at the beginning and picked up The Lincoln Lawyer from the library today. I just finished the series on Netflix, so it will be fun to compare and contrast.

Enjoying the career afterlife

Although I absolutely love retirement, of course I understand there are some significant setbacks that can prevent us from having a wonderful time as we age. Sickness, pain, loss, loneliness, financial distress. Those can be very difficult to overcome.

Then there’s ego. You’re not all that and a bag of chips anymore. You don’t look the same. You miss being somebody. Sure, I went through a little of that, but it’s actually chump change and easy to leave behind. My advice? Let it go. Enjoy your career afterlife and save your strength for the big guns.

Lately, my career afterlife has been even more enjoyable than usual. I attribute a lot of that to my back no longer giving me fits. The official diagnosis was herniated disc at L4-L5, sciatica and spinal stenosis. The neurosurgeon said I was more active than most people with these problems and to consider myself lucky. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need surgery.

Everybody’s different, but I started reading about piriformis syndrome. Symptoms are similar to what I was experiencing. I found these exercises and for about six months now, I’ve been doing them daily.  Unbelievable. I feel like a new person. I still experience a little pain from time to time, but it’s no big deal.

On the entertainment front, I’ve been reading more than watching, although I did enjoy the latest season of The Lincoln Lawyer on Netflix. I seem to recall reading the first book in the series, and now I may go back and read them all.

Today was kind of a bonus day at the library. I went to get the next Easy Rawlins novel, and another book in my queue popped up. The book, Sing her Down by Ivy Pochoda, is described as a gritty feminist Western thriller. Sounds right up my alley.

Then, in the Lucky Day display at the library, I saw All That is Hidden, a new Molly Murphy mystery by Rhys Bowen. This is number 19, and I’ve read them all in order (as I am wont to do).  Molly is a detective in turn-of-the-century New York City. I usually go for the darker stuff, but I do like historical fiction, and these are highly entertaining.

Food-wise, we continue on our path of delicious eating. I made sourdough bread last week, but it didn’t last long. Toast in the morning, sandwiches for dinner one night and then served on the side for dunking with miso fish chowder from the freezer. Here’s a link to the recipe for the chowder if you subscribe to the NY Times cooking section. Dale’s from Maine, and he loved it!

I made the soup a few weeks ago and used frozen cod and added some shrimp. Instead of bottled clam juice, I pulled some homemade lobster stock out of the freezer. I made the stock with picked out lobster shells after Dale made lobster rolls a month or so ago.

The white miso was a game-changer. Now, I’m on the lookout for any recipe with white miso. Where has this been all my life?

Saturday I made quiche with bacon and Gruyère cheese. We both thought I used a little too much bacon, but it was still quite yummy. I used to make quiche in a deeper pie pan, but I’ve switched to the tart shell with the removable bottom, and we like that better. I prefer the tart pan because I pre-bake the crust for a bit, and you never have to worry about a soggy bottom.

Dale did a whole roast chicken yesterday, and I’m going to use the leftovers for Tom Kha Gai later this week. There are a million recipes for this Thai chicken coconut soup. I’ve been using this one for years.  I’ve made it both ways – raw chicken thighs or leftover roast chicken, and they’re both great.

I’ve been itching to make it because the recipe calls for makrut lime leaves, which are difficult to find. One day I happened to be in Whole Foods, and there they were! I bought what they had and froze them.

For the rest of the ingredients, we went to 99 Ranch, which is a fantastic Asian supermarket chain. They usually carry my favorite Chaokoh coconut milk, but they were out last time we were there, so I ordered it on Amazon. Thankfully, I saw it was back in stock today.  

I browsed the fresh noodle aisle while we were at 99 Ranch. Very interesting!! I’ve tried cooking Udon before but didn’t have good results. Maybe ramen?

Juggling streaming services

I watch very little network television other than old Law & Order reruns, but dag, I do love the streaming options available today. I figured with all this great content, actors and writers would be making money out the wazoo. Apparently, that is not the case, as evidenced by the SAG-AFTRA strike. I hope they find a solution, because I can ignore a lot of bad craziness in the world if there’s something good to watch on TV. Seriously, it’s a quality-of-life issue.

Currently I subscribe to Netflix and Apple TV+. By the way, if you like crime stories, the six-episode series Black Bird on Apple TV+ is excellent. It’s based on a true story and was developed by the writer Dennis Lehane.

Anyway, two services should be enough, but it really isn’t. The problem is when I like a show, I eventually run out of episodes, and then I start shopping around for a new show until another season drops. I get done with a Netflix series and can’t find anything else that interests me, so I shop around over at Apple. When I’m done there, I hop back over to Netflix and hope for the best.

It seems to me if you had four or five streaming services, you’d have a ready supply of content, so when one series ends, another one begins. Theoretically, you’d always have a favorite in the queue. I’m not sure it would really work that way, but it sounds good on paper.

All that to say I’m thinking of adding STARZ and Hulu. That would seem to round it all out nicely, but I’m kind of a tight wad and feel so many subscriptions is perhaps a bit indulgent. The money is actually not a big percentage of my budget, so I’m thinking, why the hell not? It’s not like I’m stuck with some high-ticket item that never gets used. If my finances change, I cancel.

The last movie I saw in a theater was Wild with Reese Witherspoon. That was pre-pandemic, so I can’t blame Covid. There have been some that tempted me, but I always wait for it to come out on a streaming service, and I’m absolutely fine with that. The best movies seem to hit Amazon first, where you pay by the drink, and that’s OK with me. I always search for free content, but if it’s something I really want to see, I’ll cough up the money.

Oppenheimer would definitely make the cut when it lands somewhere after the initial run. This sounds crazy, but I suspect Barbie will be in that mix eventually. It just sounds like a fun movie, and I’m not at all bitter I never had a Barbie. My sister, who is two years older, got the Barbie, and I got a Tammy. She wasn’t quite as glamorous as Barbie, but neither was I.

As for reading, I settled on the Easy Rawlins series by Walter Mosley. The first four weren’t in the library, so I had to pay for those. The Kindle version was $14.99, which I thought was spendy, but I did it anyway. I’m about to start book five, which I got from the library, so it should be smooth sailing from here.

Easy is a black World War II veteran who leaves Houston after the war and moves to Los Angeles. I love the historical California connection, and I like Easy’s hard-boiled detective persona. In the novels I’ve read so far, there is a lot of tension between black culture and white society, and the author brings it all to life with larger-than-life characters and complex mystery.

When I sit down to read one of the Easy Rawlins stories, I feel like I’m slipping into that world … complete escapism, and that works for me.

A book I can’t stop thinking about

I often recommend books, but I don’t write full reviews. A couple of sentences, and I’m onto the next thing. This isn’t a proper review, but the novel moved me in a powerful way, and I believe it deserves more than a passing note.

The book is Small Mercies by Dennis Lehane. The setting is Boston … the summer of 1974, when a judge’s order to desegregate schools meant busing students between predominantly white and black neighborhoods would begin in September.  

The key character is Mary Pat Fennessy, an angry, 40-something single mom from the housing projects of Southie, a tight-knit community of Irish Americans. She has already lost a son to drugs, and now her 17-year-old daughter doesn’t come home one night. On that same night, a young black man was killed under mysterious circumstances.

Mary Pat starts to put the mystery together, and her daughter, still missing, is central to the crime. As Mary Pat investigates, she seeks revenge and has some rather unpleasant encounters with the Irish mob.

These people are vile, racist and profane, and it’s sometimes hard to read. No one is hiding their prejudices in this story. Mary Pat is awful and filled with rage but actually quite funny. You want to hate her, but there’s something more to Mary Pat than you realize at first, and she goes after some seriously bad guys.  

This is not your ordinary crime thriller. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s easy to hate these people, but you begin to see how hate is a disease that gets passed down from generation to generation, and you realize with great sadness the damage it does to everyone, and like Mary Pat, you ultimately figure it has to stop somewhere.

An exceptional book. That’s all I can say.

Number 37

In other news, I finished number 37. It’s interesting for me to see how my art has evolved. I started with just abstract designs drawn freehand, because I’m not good are drawing real things freehand. But then I started adding images and linking them together with abstract lines. I’d say the newer stuff is more mural-like.

Most images I draw freehand even if they are a bit crude, but others are simply beyond my skill level. In this piece, I printed out a clipart illustration of a lobster, traced it and transferred it by putting the pencil side down and retracing the lines. It transfers just enough of the pencil marks to give me an image I can work with. Same for the taco, although I did some of the filling freehand.

Finally, I have a brilliant quote to share. A friend from my Army days found me through the blog, and we have been corresponding. It has been so great to catch up after all these years. She is also a cancer survivor, and her ordeal makes mine look like look like a walk in the park.

In her last email, she wrote this:

“Sometimes I think: I lived from cancer–how can I justify my luck when others die. What can I do? But maybe we only owe the world community a little niceness, vaccinations, and not buying any assault weapons.”

It’s good to have smart friends.

The reality of spring

Spring always disappoints me. By this time, I’m ready for the warmer weather, but the cold and rain can’t quite quit us. My neighbor, high on life and all that, likes to say rain is wonderful! This is the way it’s supposed to be! Relish the cold – it will be hot soon enough!

OK, Earth Girl, message received, but I’m still pissed.

It rained Tuesday, but I walked anyway. I’m trying to increase my mileage as a test to see if my body will hold up for a long-distance walk of some sort. I thought I’d build up slowly (months) and eventually try to walk 10 miles three days in a row. What do you think walkers? Good plan? Bad plan?

I’m on a mission now, and I was like, rain, you can’t stop me! It actually wasn’t so bad.

Yesterday was golf, and it was cold and miserable. I played very badly. My body just won’t move properly when I’m freezing. I’m never happy about bad golf, but I have evolved. I’m no longer embarrassed. Sometimes I play great golf, and sometimes I play horrible golf. What you see is what you get.

Today is another rainy one, so in the spirit of accepting the reality of spring, I decided to make the most of it. A little Covid vaccination to kick things off. We got our second benevolent booster in the morning, but after that, I was a free agent. I went to the library and loaded up on books.

I paused as I walked across the library parking lot and reflected on the reality of nature’s cool wetness fucking up my glasses.

The “Lucky Day” stack had Life on the Mississippi: An Epic American Adventure by Rinker Buck. His previous book, The Oregon Trail, was great, so I have high hopes for this one.

As a crime fiction aficionado, I have been remiss in my Don Winslow reading. He is among the best. I absolutely loved his earlier works but am afraid to read the border trilogy, which deals with the war on drugs. I’m not sure I can get through the violence. I decided to try The Force, which is about the NYPD.

I love the library for many reasons, but I especially love the no-risk element for a book I’m uncertain about.  Oh, and I’m on the waiting list for Small Mercies, Dennis Lehane’s new book. He’s another great crime writer if you haven’t read him yet. Mystic River is maybe his most famous, probably due to the movie, but I would start with A Drink Before the War.

Then I came home and consoled myself with a tuna melt. I made it in a gratin dish without the bread, and it was just delicious. I do pride myself on eating very little processed food and was disappointed to learn canned tuna is considered a processed food. I thought, well, if I’m going to die, a tuna melt is not a bad way to go.

That said, I am going to pay more attention to labels. I thought ice cream was better than, say, candy, since ice cream is a real food, except they add all kinds of shit to it, so it’s not exactly pristine, either. I’m not going to get fanatic about what I eat, but I do want to know what’s fueling the engine. I might still go for death food, but I’ll think of it as informed consent.

After that, I went out into the garage and worked on my art for a bit. That usually makes me feel good.

I really need to clean the bathroom, but it’s not high on my list. I have all those new books, and I’m thinking it’s time to get started.

Readin’ in the rain

I will always remember the fall of 2017 because I had just retired and read all of Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch books in order. Such a simple pleasure but hunkering down at home to read after a lifetime of work felt like a precious gift.

That was before the pandemic, before we discovered the dark side of hunkering down. But this staying at home thing … I still sort of like it. To commemorate the miserable rain-soaked winter of 2023, I am burning through all 19 of John Lescroart’s Dismas Hardy books in order. I would describe them as legal suspense with family intrigue, hardboiled criminal investigations and some courtroom drama.

Oh, and the setting is San Francisco.

Early on, I tried to take breaks and read other books in between, but I finally gave up and committed to the blitz. I’ll start number 16 later today and have the rest on hand, courtesy of our local library. I should be done before the rain clears later this week. No one can stop me now.

I’ll be sad when it’s over, the book marathon not the rain, but at least I can diversify my reading material again. However, I do think my compulsive nature rather enjoys the singular focus of one good series at a time. I’ve become immersed in this fictional world, and it’s been a pleasurable escape from the real one. I may just do this again with a new series.

Number 35

On the local art scene, I finally finished number 35. I’m not sure why, but this piece was a bit of a slog. I was so happy to spray on that last coat of lacquer and immediately went to work on number 36. I’m already way more excited about him than I was poor number 35, who never felt the love.

So, today marks 24 years since I was diagnosed with stage 3 primary peritoneal cancer, which is virtually the same as ovarian. I am in a small group of long-term survivors who have been free of disease since their initial treatment. I don’t know why I’ve been so lucky, but I share this information from time to time because somebody somewhere needs to know good outcomes are possible.