Prioritize and simplify

I feel like a fraud. I call myself a bookworm and talk about how I love to read and yet lately I've read about 3 books the two months and haven't cracked the pages of any on my book club list ( a new one; I've resigned myself to Scott's victory over the previous list). 

The wedding is over so the time I used browsing wedding websites, making lists, scouring second-hand stores and stressing is free for other things and unfortunately I'm seeing a pattern of tv filling that empty time way way too much. 

So I've come to the conclusion that something needs to change. Hence my new resolution: finish one book a week. 

I say finish because I have about ten  books started and finishing them will give me the same sense of accomplishment as starting from scratch. 

I fully expect to break this resolution most weeks. I hope not but at this stage I don't feel a lot of self-confidence in my discipline and preserverance. I feel like all I've accomplished this year was a wedding and I have so many regrets from that process that it makes me a bit wary if taking on new projects. However, reading is something I can do and an area where I know myself pretty well. I know what I like; I don't read to impress people; my taste is random and eclectic and has too large a share of children's lit and fantasy and sci-fi and self-help and chick-lit to make it on any laudable book list list. As long as I channel my taste reading is fun. 

I'm hoping to transfer a bit of that philosophy to other areas of my life. I was recently inspired by a wedding in which I was a bridesmaid. The couple did a great job prioritizing what was important and letting go of everything else regardless of people's expectations. The result was a simple affair that focused the attention on the beautiful couple, their love and their loved ones. 

So this is the plan for this fall 

1. Figure out my priorities. 

2. Simplify; weed out mine and others' unrealistic expectations. 

3. Find life-giving ways to focus on those priorities. 

Nikolski

Not my favourite book by a long shot but definitely up there for a translation. I find that the need to resolve plot lines and tie it all up with a pretty bow might be an English thing. Books from other cultures ( and yes, the francophone world of this book is another culture) seem to prefer hazier, perhaps more realistic and less predictable endings. The book's main characters were all somehow connected and related and their paths connected briefly but no joyous reunion was ever made and the mystery was never revealed; a bit frustrating to my mind which likes proper endings and nothing left hanging.
That being said, I did very much enjoy the process of the read. The descriptions were evocative and unexpectedly whimsical. My favourite character was Joyce: her eccentric fixation on becoming a pirate and the unorthodox ways she goes about it was amusing and surprisingly endearing.

Just not the same as lattes

Ducks blown off their feet by the wind

Is it mean that I think this is hilarious?

First Comes Love, Then Comes Malaria by Eve Brown and five other books

I quiet enjoyed the account of life in a much less developed countries from the perspective of an aid worker instead of the more typical missionary tales. She is pretty candid about her difficulties with the deprivations and cultures. She's real enough to confess that there were issues and she didn't just glide into a paragon of a adaptability.

Today I also finish Corduroy Mansions by Alexander McCall Smith. Ah the sleepy tales of normal people going around doing normal stuff at a very slow pace. Gotta love it!

I've not kept up at all with the books I've been reading so I'll do a short summary...

Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott- moralistic (one of the principal characters has bad habits, ends up dying young and tragically as a result) but a nice throw-back to my childhood.

Sword of Truth - Stone of Tears by Terry Goodkind - Kept my heart racing with all the tension and action and drama. I would definitely not recommend his books for younger readers but they make a nice adventure story with twists and turns (including some even I can't predict).

The Lost Art of Gratitude by Alexander McCall Smith - I like Isabel Dalhousie. She is a bit frustrating at times when she uses philosophy to NOT get revenge or get even with someone who is cruel to her but I like the way she incorporates philosophy into the everyday and uses logic and thoughtfulness to make her decisions, usually leading to her taking the higher road.

Reread the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society again. Every time, it's so good!

Winter and Instagram

My favorite winter song 

SUSHI!!!!!!

Shopping!

Winter winter winter....snow, baking, toques, lattes and Survivor

Winter wonderland

First snow for Chania! 

Things I don't like about winter #2

Having to decide between warmth or sight when you get into a car....do you heat or defrost?

Things I don't like about winter #1

Having to wear socks indoors. My feet now enter little footsie prison.

Parkour kidlet

1st World Problem

My arm hurts from flipping through so many hangers and carrying around all the clothes I'm gonna buy.

#1 Cutest Pig EVER! (watch to the end)

Books Currently Reading

 

Sneak preview of future reviews on the blog!

*Not pictured:
- Drop Dead Healthy
- Stone of Tears
- The Highlander's Last Song

Beauty Tips from Moose Jaw

After "Why I hate Canadians" and "How to be Canadian" I was expecting another hysterical book from Will Ferguson and I was a bit disappointed. A few chuckles yes, but not the ironic satire that I was expecting. That being said, it was quite enlightening. I learned a lot about Canada that I'd never heard of as he chronicled his travels to lesser known of the world, talking about history and current culture in random places like Moose Jaw, Victoria, St. John's, Churchill (polar bears!!!), the Saguenay and others. I'd recommend it if you are interested in learning more about Canada in a palatable, entertaining way. If you're looking for a laugh, check out his other books instead.

I want I want I want

Date Night

Pho and Fried Rice: Yummy combo

Bubble Tea!!!

Playing WOW

Box of Books: BEST!

I'm really struggling with my Reading ADD right now. I already had a three (or four) books on the go and I just got a nice lovely box from The Motherland (aka. Powells) The problem with having an eclectic reading taste is that there is a different book for each mood and that can really weigh down your napsack. In this box alone I've got theology, fashion, TCK self-help (which my nieces and nephews need to read before their inevitable identity crisis hits)novels from various genres, mystery, classics, stunt journalism, and biographies and I want to read them ALL AT ONCE! For breakfast, I shall have Henri Nouwen's Compassion and Nina Garcia's The One Hundred: A Guide to the pieces every stylish woman must own.

Runner up for Cutest Pig Ever`

The Happiness Project

An example in what is called "stunt journalism", (Gretchen Rubin attempts an experiment and then writes about it), The Happiness Project is one woman's quest to become happier. She does this through setting different resolutions each month focusing on different aspects of her life, such as parenting, marriage, health, work, friendships etc. She tracks her progress through a series of charts and resolutions.

I think my instinctive reaction to this is fairly normal: focusing on happiness is a sure way to not be happy and it seemed selfish, self-centered, and a little desperate for book ideas.
However, don't we all search for happiness to some extent? We generally make choices because they will make us happy in some way or another. Is it so wrong then, to make this pursuit of happiness a deliberate one: with means undertaken that will provide both personal growth and make the environment around you more positive and intentional.

Although a bit more blatant and gimmicky, I think I prefer Rubin's methodology to Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat Pray Love). Rubin stays close to home; she focus on better herself in order to impact her surroundings. Her relationships are improved, her marriage gets better, she focuses more on her children and her health and energy improving can only help to maker her a better wife, mother, and friend. Gilbert on the other hand, takes a vacation from real life. She deserts her responsibilities to go stuff herself in Italy, find enlightenment (and starvation) in India, and live happily ever after in Bali. She is searching only for herself and her own self-improvement and although this might be what our modern Western society is all about, it goes against the grain of what most civilizations, societies, even modern nations are based on. Plus, who can relate? We can't all just drop everything and go wandering around the world in search of enlightenment (...she says piously from Vietnam)

I liked how she approached reading (I liked that she read the entire L.M. Montgomery canon) and I like all the charts and lists she kept.
However, I love books, I love reading methodically (like through book club list) or randomly (like having 5-10 books on the go), I love charts and lists and goals and self improvement (one of the big reasons I'll never be truly British) and resolutions. I know plenty of people who don't and therefore might struggle connecting with her methodology.

My biggest gripe with her is that she's not A.J. Jacobs. (see previous posts). When it comes to stunt journalism, he's at the top of my list. Funny, packed with interesting facts from an obvious amount of research with clear, conside and valuable points. Rubin rambles a bit and tries to bring in too many epiphanies and points and "truths" and conclusions.

The biggest thing I'll take away is the list of recommended readings. However, don't think I would put this book down on any of my recommended reading lists unless its the "Fluffy, entertaining and potentially helpful" list.

Spectrums

I'm an obsessive comparer. Or maybe its normal and everyone does it. I don't know but sometimes I annoy myself.
I know comparing is unhealthy when you are comparing yourself with everyone around you. You tend towards "negative comparison" which means that you compare yourself with people who are doing better, are more fit, seem happier, have good careers instead of with people who you percieve to be less off than you. Also, I, for one, do "bits-and-pieces" comparison. Where, I want to have this person's hair, and that person's job and that other person's friends, and someone else's degree. And then I think of myself as worse off not realizing that the person with good job might not have the good hair or the good friends...and I can't be down because I'm not a composite of everyone else's good qualities and fortune.

I also compare when adjusting to new cultures. Somehow this is my processing method. When I first got to Canada, I found myself saying "well, in Costa Rica we don't do it this way" or "oh, that's different here, in Costa Rica....." and I became so annoyed at myself! I didnt want to always bring up Costa Rica but that was my natural frame of reference and this new cultural HAD to be viewed in the perspective I'm coming from.

Travelling also brings out this constant comparison. When I go to new countries I have to place them on spectrum. Where does it fall on the First World/Third World line. Are there enough parks and coffee shops that i could live here? Do I feel as safe/safer/less safe than in Costa Rica/Canada. Etc etc.

This helps to not lump countries from a similar region together. For instance, between the Phillipines and Vietnam I'm seeing a huge difference that I never thought I would. In small things and big.

For instance, Manila seems much more poor than Ho Chih Minh. The posh areas of Makate are cloisetered away far from the squalor of the Manila proper and I feel much more on edge there. Vietnam on the other hand, seems much more relaxed and approachable. Ironically, it is Manila that is littered with Starbucks, even in the worst areas while HCMC seems to have bigger "indie" coffee shop culture. And although it was nice to order something and know what you're getting (I haven't had a decent iced latte in a long time since Costa Ricans don't seem to know the meaning) I do enjoy poking my head into little corners here and discovering charming cafes. I have learned to stipulate NO SUGAR when ordering Vietnamese iced coffee...a few mouthfuls of pure sugars taught me that.

I just forgot what point I was making. If I remember, I'll edit this. meanwhile, off to explore Saigon!

Luxury

Today 20$ got me:
- a nice long walk to a spa
- the use of a steam room, sauna, and shower
- multiple disposable underwear for the different stages of my spa date
- multiple towels, towelletts and handkerchiefs for an unknown purpose
- a luxurious 90 minute shiatsu and hot rock massage (Hot rocks massages are a little bit of heaven on earth)
- a generous tip for the masseus who climbed all over and around the table in order to get to my many travel-related accumulated knots
- a taxi ride home


I think i might give up eating and drinking and just put that money towards daily spa dates :) I've experienced very little that feels as good as a looooonnnnggg massage.

Tyler Bakes

Licking the spoon sparks interest in the process:

Whose face is dirtier?

Tyler shows of his wrist strength:


And his mopping skills:

In Goes the Coconut! Out goes the Coconut!


Sweeping up our many "uh ohs" :

Is it ready yet??



All done!
Checking to make sure his beloved Granpa likes it:

The Postmistress

You wouldn't think a book about World War II, a front-lines radio/reporter and a deceptive public servant would make for relaxing beach reading, but in the case of The Postmistress it actually was. It was interesting to read about the radio reporting from London, something I hadn't really read much about. It also shed light on the fact that for a while, the world didn't have a clear picture of what was happening to the Jews: we look back and say "how could that have happened?" but in the moment, in the confusion, the wild rumours going on about everything, it was hard to sift through to the truth as we see it now. Not a justification by any means, but perhaps an explanation of why the world's countries weren't quicker to open their doors.

With Malic Towards Some by Margaret Halsey

I have already addressed my love for epistolary writings in the previous entry, so I shall merely include a few of the many samples of Margaret Halsey's diary that amused me.
Although written in the 1930s (during her year in England) I find that many of her observations, particularly regarding Anglo-American comparisons, are still quite true which is delightful to my freakish little soul that loves cultural comparisons along those lines.
It also shows the extent of my Anglophilia that, despite her constant disparaging remarks on British weather, food, insipid conversation and her glowing tales of France and Sweden, my sense of comfort and loyalty towards Britain is, not only not abated but, contrary to logic, increased. The weather might be terrible, the food inedible and the people stiff and awkward: BUT, the fact that it's the same weather, food, and conversation endured by most of my favorite authors, politicians, actors, singers as well as all my fictional companions of youth gives it an idealistic glow that will probably not tarnish until I've had to personally endure those trials for at least a year.
It must also be added (especially should any of my British friends be reading this) that it is my opinion that in the last 80 years, the quality of wit in any given conversation has shifted considerably to the other side of the Atlantic. Unlike Meg Halsey, in looking for sheer amusement, I would much rather eavesdrop in England than America.

"In the meantime, we institute compensating economies. The straightened regime is harder on me than on Henry, who never knows whether he is comfortable or not until it is pointed out to him."
- With Malice Towards Some, 60

I suppose I ought to be used by this time to being myself, but sometimes it comes as rather a shock.
- 120

"It seems that one of the principal differences...of English and American life comes from the fact that Americans are prone to favor you with their opinions and to do it, moreover, in the manner of an office boy favoring letters with stamps at five minutes to five., whereas the English think of an opinion as something which a decent person, if he has the misfortune to have one, does all he can to hide" - 192

"American men look at women when (they think) the women are not aware of it; Englishmen do not look at them at all; but Frenchmen look at them with such thoroughness and intesity that you half expect them to approach and ask dubiously, 'Is it washable?' "

In regards to a man regarded by all as being bitter and cynical but turning out quite nicely: "In these parts, apparently, a skeptic is a man who refrains from cuddling kittens" - 200

Referring to a baby: "A handsomer batch of protoplasm than young Wadhams I have never seen" - 202

Happy Centennial Daddy-Long-Legs

I love epistolary novels. There is something about a collection of novels or diary entries which, autobiographical or fiction, seem to give the reader a more intimate view of a person's life, thoughts and, if you're lucky, secrets. It's probably because of this that I can't stop ranting about Helene Hanff's compilations of her letters and diary entries and why I love Anne of Windy Poplar for her collection of decidedly unromantic but charming epistles to her fiance. It might also explain my delight in finding a first edition (and to my knowledge, only edition) of Margaret Halsey's With Malice Towards Some, the diary entries of a slightly restless wife of an professor lecturing in Oxford for a year. The list could go on and its partially due to this list that I hate being asked "what books do you like". Most of these books are not on any bestseller list, probably because reading what someone had for tea in 1938 is not the exactly the heart-stopping drama or sweeping romance that people crave for. Reading people's letters and diary entries, one cannot expect to have a happy ending every time or have all the intrigues tied up nicely by the last page. These books don't always follow traditional story plot lines and, since they don't contain vampires or asinine by-products of vampire pop culture, would probably bore a large part of the population.

One that has endured and and is celebrating its 100th anniversary this year is Daddy-Long-Legs by Jean Webster. Although I have not read it a 100 times, the number is definitely in the double digits and as of my last read this week, it has not lost any of its charm.

It's not the love story that develops in the last few pages that has kept me going back for re-reads or captured the attention of so many readers in the last hundred years. It's the plucky orphan who, knowing well her fate and caste in life, dares to dream beyond and explores the world handed to her with abandon, self-effacing and good-natured humour, and creativity. Although readers in search of wild adventures might get bogged down in details of college lunches and classes and faithful reporting of which pig ran away or which cow died, there are greater themes in the book: female suffrage and social reform being among the most obvious.

I give this book a five star but only for that certain kind of reader. I think you know who you are.

Jason Mraz

Two Books and Their Boxes

I don't know if I'm getting pickier with books or if I've just had not-so-good luck lately, but I've recently read two which, by their covers, would seem to be books I'd love but instead, I was quite disappointed in.

When Autumn Leaves looked like a fun, homey little town with stories about friendship and community and maybe a bit of magic thrown in. The reality was that the books rushed along, barely making your acquaintance with one character before switching over to another character's point of view. By the end of the book, I'd forgotten who the people at the beginning and hadn't really gotten attached to anyone along the way. Furthermore, the moral quality of many of the characters was quiet dubious and the magic was a fairly dark, wiccan sort which did not fit in with the rest of the timbre of the book. I love epic fantasy tales like Lord of the Rings, Narnia or books set entirely within another world. I like reading about leprechauns and brownies and other folklore. But somehow when a story tries to create a modern day and combine it with outright magic which, frankly, is irrelevant to the story line, it makes it harder for me to suspend my disbelief and enjoy the story. I like genres to stay in their boxes!


The Hundred-Foot Journey was a bit better. It is the story of an Indian boy whose rowdy family sets up a resturant in a little French village to the horror of the gourmand across the road. Eventually he goes on to train and become a great chef. The book hurries through various stages of life from Indian, London, Lumiere, and Paris so you don't quiet ever feel settled in. It reads more like a condensed biography than a novel. Now, I have nothing against biographies. But when it is suppose to be a novel, I like it to read like a novel.
To be fair, I enjoyed all the foodie talk in the book: it made me want to go make a sauce or stuff a quail.

Intellectual Masochism

I don't like short stories. And even though English teachers across the globe might twitch in horror, I don't know many people that do. Except for my beloved P.G. Wodehouse, most short story writers seem to feel a burden to send a message or social critique or statement on the darkness of either their souls or everyone around them in one fell punch. And since I'm not a masochist ( unless it comes to my back being scratched or weaving needles in and out of my palm or liking the feel of a knife's blade or...) ok, since I'm not usually a masochist, I don't want to be repeatedly slugged in the head. At least books couch their message in slightly more subtle terms. That is not saying that that books aren't dark or fatalistic but that doesn't seem to be the sole purpose of a majority of books.


Novellas are almost as bad: too short to be legitimate books and too long to be short stories, they try to straddle both worlds. I can't seem to invest myself in a story that I know is going to end soon. I find myself racing along to just find out what the "point" is that the author is trying to make; an attitude I rarely take with books.

However, perhaps I've been reading the wrong sort of short stories and novellas. If anyone out there has suggestions, I'd be happy to give them another try.

Lunch

My alloted portion: 6 1/2 ounces of a single vegetable and 3 1/2 ounces of meat. Delicious and I didn't even manage to eat it all so I get the leftovers for a snack later on!

Happiness is:

Coffee and Paninis at the coffee shop


Casados at the Mercado Central


Copos by the Torre


Osea: frienship and food goes together really well.

Apologies

The Godfather is not necessarily a book that I would recommend but there is one particular paragraph that struck me. The son to the Godfather just died and the consigliori (counselor) to the Godfather hadn't been able to stop it. Before he tells the man his son is dead:

"he tried to prepare his own manner. He would have to be in all ways strict with his own guilt. To reproach himself would only add to the Don's burden. To show is own grief, would only sharpen the grief of the Don. To point out his shortcomings as a Consigliori, would only make the Don reproach himself for his own bad judgement for picking such a man for such an important post."

This one struck me especially because I have so often found myself comforting people who have done me wrong or are apologizing for something. They use their grief as a shield and self-flagellation as a tool to garner pity. I know that apologizing is an art and I find myself wanting to do the same: using my great guilt to try to make the wronged party understand and not hate me. But I think maybe, in apologizing, the kindest thing to do is give the wronged party a chance to be hurt and say "I was wrong. Forgive me" not "I'm such a terrible person, You shouldn't forgive me even though I hope you do etc". In the latter case, then the other person is stuck saying "No, you're not a horrible person" instead of "I was hurt but I forgive you". Basically, the difference lies in whether the apology is for the benefit of the apologizer or the wronged person. I believe a simple, sincere apology made for the person you have wronged is much more effective and healing than a flowery, self-beating one which casts all the attention back on yourself. Unfortunately, I fear the art of apology is being lost just like the art of politeness, greetings, correspondence, handkerchiefs and hats.