Monday, July 28, 2014

You know why I'm blogging right now?

To avoid the writing I'm supposed to do today.  Gah!  I hate it when I'm like this.  I blocked out the morning to work on a Trib books piece due Wednesday and instead I have done the following--

1.  did laps at the pool
2.  mopped the kitchen floor
3.  vacuumed the entire downstairs
4.  drank several Dr. Peppers
5.  ate half an apricot
6.  called my mother-in-law
7.  made multiple trips to the recycling bin
8.  called Vikki and made an appointment to have my hair trimmed
9.  ate a piece of watermelon well past its prime
10. called TRQ


I'm getting to work now, people.  I promise.

Friday, July 25, 2014

Also! Quinoa!

And this just in!

My interview with Tiffany Beveridge who has just published a wicked parody of living life with a precocious (albeit imaginary) child.

What baseball can teach you about life

Yeah.  That's what I wrote about in this week's column, which I forgot to post earlier in the week.  Meanwhile!  Friday!  Celebrate!

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Happy (Quiet) Pioneer Day

It's been quiet here.

Kathy and I strolled down to South Temple early to watch the runners.  Afterwards I went home and made potato salad for lunch at noon, which also turned out to be a quiet affair.  Then I took Al and his family to the pool which we had to ourselves, so yeah.  Things were kind of quiet there, too.

When did quiet become the new noisy at our house?

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

All the Light We Cannot See

This is the gorgeous title of a gorgeous new book by Anthony Doerr.  I finished reading it on my way home from Houston and I felt transformed by the experience.

When you love a book as much as I loved that one, it's hard not to put on a white shirt, a tie, a pair of shiny Swedish knit pants from Mr. Mac's, and a nametag in order to proselytize the reading public so that they, too, can partake in the rapture.  (Right.  I'm mixing religious metaphors here.)  This, of course, can be a dangerous thing because maybe I just read this book at exactly, exactly the right time so that it spoke to me on a cellular level, which would make me a problematic judge.  Is the book as stunning as I think it is?

I don't know.  But I lived a life apart every time I opened it.  I could taste it.  It's been a long time since I've felt this way about a novel.

Incidentally (and not that it matters), four of my all-time favorite books are set against the backdrop of WWII--

The Madonnas of Leningrad  (Debra Dean)
Prince of the Clouds (Gianni Riotta)
The Lost Garden (Helen Humphreys)

And now this.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

The dogs of Liberty Park

I always think it's interesting to see what kinds of humans own which kinds of dogs, because you know!  It's always so much fun to generalize!

Anyway.  Running every morning in Liberty Park gives me a chance to draw some loose conclusions on this front and here's what I've observed.

Pitbulls are often owned by young females in their twenties or early thirties.  Tattoos are frequently involved, although not always.

Toy breeds are often owned by large men of color.

Golden retrievers and worthy rescue dogs are often owned by gray-haired couples who listen to NPR.

Feel free to add observations of your own.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

When selfies go wrong

Yeah, so I've mentioned before that I hate photos of myself.  And I hate that sometimes I have to send people photos of myself.  Like today.  I had a gentle reminder from someone that they're waiting for me to send a bio and a photo for a talk I have to do this January.  So OF COURSE I can't find any j-peg deals on my computer, so I run outside and start taking disastrous selfies.  Which you can see for yourself.

Yes.  People always like photos of walls behind your head.

Objects are larger than they appear  . . . (thanks Gary Larsen)

Hahahahaha!  I LAUGH in the face of danger!

And then I decide to tuck my chin in front of the camera and laugh some more.  Hahahahaha!

Ooooo!  Perky!

Less perky. . . but with branches coming out of my ears!

Suspicious Face

I'm in the dark.  As usual.

I had a neck once.  It was a good one.  I miss it.