Still Reading - New Style
Wed., August 2, 01:13 PM
When frustrations arise, I try to bring my Jonah education into play. It goes something like this: I could do A or B or C. If C cannot be done at this time; forget it. It is counterproductive to dwell on something you cannot change, at least not right now.
It was with this attitude that I survived yesterday, waking up with symptoms of vertigo. I’ve had it before, I know how to deal with it, and I can do nothing else until the symptoms subside. I need to be sitting upright, so I opened the recliner, put a water bottle in the cupholder, and took an antihistamine.
Though I listened to the radio on and off, mostly I slept for the next five hours. U.D. gave Husband his medication, and he went back to his room. That was fine with me; she had to go to work, and I was physically incapable of dealing with him. When I woke up, I tentatively checked my responses – much better – and, even more tentatively, ate a few berries with cream. No nausea; I’m good to go – carefully.
I made Husband some oatmeal – the milk had spoiled again, so I used coffee creamer – and brought it into his room. I make concession when it’s this hot. He needs to be in the air conditioning.
About half an hour before I was going to get him up for the evening, the power went out. I’m comparing alternatives like mad, and I decided to let him sleep. His room would stay cool for a while if I didn’t open the door. I lit the one memorial candle I had in the cupboard. I took another antihistamine, and I dozed for the next several hours. Husband got up once, not for anything for himself but to make sure Cat had water. “Take care of your animals” got through to him. Taking care of himself is entirely another story. The lights were back when I woke up a little after midnight.
This was not going to be the subject of my post; I simply lost a day, and it doesn’t matter in the long run.
Once again using the Jonah system, I decided that books with large print were a good option for me, and so I have signed up with yet another book club (I swore I wouldn’t do this again!). My reactions are mixed. For one thing, these books are about 40 per cent more expensive than what I usually pay for new books. The other thing is that the selection is somewhat limited. I’m just not a soap opera, Harlequin Romance kind of reader. But I have to admit that 16- or 18-point type is a lot easier for me to read.
There were a couple of books that I enjoyed, and I realized that, different as they are, they have something in common. The first was Dark Tort by Diana Mott Davison. This is something like the tenth in a series of pun-entitled mysteries like The Cereal Murders and Dying for Chocolate. I like the way the characters are drawn: Goldy Bear, a caterer; her growing son; her friends; and even her ex, whom she calls The Jerk. I also enjoy the setting, somewhere around Aspen, Colorado; it’s a place I’ve never visited. And, most important, the mystery plots are good.
All of Ms. Davison’s stories are accompanied by some of Goldy’s recipes, which are great reading, although I will never cook any of them. Even the dishes that would be healthful for me don’t translate easily into one- or two-serving meals. Oh, well, reading recipes is still interesting to a former chemistry student and cook.
The second book I read is A Good Yarn, by Debbie Macomber. This is a sequel to The Shop on Blossom Street; A Good Yarn is the name of the shop. In each book the shop owner offers knitting classes to a small group of women, whose lives intersect to form the basis of the plot. Blossom Street is in Seattle, another city I would like to visit. Included in this book were instructions on how to knit socks. Just as I am unlikely to cook Goldy’s recipes, I am not likely to knit Lydia’s socks. I did learn some things about knitting, however.
The problem with this book was that I really didn’t care much for the characters. As the narrative slipped from one to the other, all I could hear was whining, and all I could think was, “Woman, get a grip!” I seem to have far less patience with fictional characters than with real people, which I find amusing and silly, but there it is.
Eventually, they all do manage to “get a grip,” and turn their lives around. I didn’t like the sudden emergence of an anonymous benefactor, who provides business loans, limos, and whatever else was lacking. Fairy tales or science fiction, a deus ex machina is out of place in this genre.
The instructions for knitting socks on two circular needles was especially interesting, not because I’m going to do socks, but because I usually knit sleeves in the round. (I didn’t understand the phrase, “graduating from socks to sweaters.” The most complicated sweaters I ever made were far easier than turning a heel!)
The book contains information about groups such as Warm up America, The Linus Project, and ChemoCaps. Even with my reduced capabilities, I may be able to do something for one of these groups, and that would be gratifying.
So reading is slower, but it’s still there, and I can still learn, even from less than perfect books. Not a bad conclusion.
