review - Last Night In Twisted River

Several of you have asked me what I thought about John Irving's latest, Last Night in Twisted River.  Unfortunately, from the very first pages I was disappointed to realize that his writing simply isn't very good.  John Irving's talent instead lies in his imaginative plots, where characters do unexpected things and are very colorful.  Mr. Irving describes the North Country, as people from New Hampshire call the Northern parts of the state that border on Canada, very robustly, if not stereotypicallly.  The rougue North Country spirit is embodied by one of the characters, and he is facinating.   The other two main characters are not as interesting.  The son turns out to be a writer, educated at Exeter in New Hampshire, just like all of Mr. Irving's other books. 

Because I was not inspired by the writing, though, I neglected it.  I let it sit for long periods unread and unloved.  So much time passed between resting and reading (it's a long book), that by the end I finally became fond of the main characters and wished I had paid more attention to them.  Still, I have to say, bad writing, bad plot, but loveable characters who grow on you.

These are the days...

These are the days.  These long, lustrous, and luscious days.  I think nearly this whole month of May shone with glittery sunshine.  Fitting then that this long weekend, marking the end of May and the beginning of summer, was spent luxuriating in the perfection of the landscape and weather. 

Even the dog had a roll in the ferns and wore them for the rest of the day like a fairy crown.

When it rains, the skies present a gift, as if in apology for the momentary loss of sunshine.

I've been so bedazzled by this time of year that I can hardly bear to come inside to post.

I seem to be having difficulty getting on blogger during the day. I either can't log at all or it's slower than molasses in January. Is any one else having problems, or is it just my network?

Garden Time Around the Corner

This is a stirring sight in our household.

It means that it is almost garden time.  The growing season is short up here in the Northern side of the US.  So, to help ensure that the vegetables have enough time to produce their goodies, we give them a warm head start inside.  When the weather turns to snow in April, these infants stay safe.  When freezey breezes toss the apple blossoms into the air, these pampered babies stretch their roots in their pre-garden sanctuary.  By the end of May when there is no more chance of frost, we give them their chance to feel direct sunshine and rain at last - that is until we eat them!

     

Stepping Stones

I found

that someone had placed

two stones,

centered in a muddy puddle

along the path.

The unexpected discovery

made a touching impression,

that along the path of my

morning walk

in a place that creates

some struggle,

some inconvenience of stride

from having to jump or

feel a cold dampness soak my socks,

someone went out of their way

to place two rocks,

flat and level,

just so.

I can continue easily.

Step. Step.

I'm over the mud

and on my way

to the song of the wood thrush.

The stranger's anonymous kindness

feels like a friendly hand

stretched out

just when I needed it.

Save the Oceans - Buy Seafood Wisely Using Your iPhone

Formerly titled, Worthwhile "App" - Seafood Watch.

I've known for some time that what seafood I chose to buy could have an affect on our oceans.  Yet, I was often confused about what I was supposed to buy, or not buy.  Farm raised?  Wild caught?  I thought I heard somewhere that it is better to buy smaller fish; they're lower on the food chain, I guess.   I thought I heard somewhere that talapia was a good choice.  Then I heard that it was not.  How was I going to find real answers in the midst of so much misinformation?

Then I discovered a resource to answer my questions - an app I could get for my iPhone!  I guess I should have known.  Yes, there is an app for that!

I only got my iPhone because my husband was crazy to get one, and if he got a cool new phone, I was going to get one, too.  As anyone who has one knows, there are hundres of thousands of useful, no-so useful, and downright stupid "apps" to buy and add to your iPhone.  Well, here is one that Everyone should dowload and Use!  And, it's FREE!

"Fishing practices worldwide are damaging our oceans—depleting fish populations, destroying habitats and polluting the water. Informed consumers can help turn the tide."

This tool, from the Monteray Bay Aquarium, is a must have for all your seafood purchases, whether at your grocery store or restaurant.  We consumers have the power to save our oceans.  It seems hard to imagine that our vast oceans, which have been a boundless source of food for all of human history, could be on the verge of destruction, but they are.  Our growing human population and technological advances in the fishing industry are taking their toll.  We must pay attention to what we consume to ensure the continuing bounty of the seas.

 I am now using this guide whenever I choose seafood.  Before I used this guide, I found it difficult to remember which seafood was appropriate to purchase, and which purchases were contributing to ocean destruction.  For example, some farmed seafood are good choices, and some are not.  So, simply following a farmed or no farmed, plan does not work.  Similarly, the same kind of fish or seafood can be sustainable or damaging, depending on the type or location of its harvest.  But, the mere fact that your choices are complicated is now no excuse for not using your purchasing power to restore our oceans.  You do not even need to have an iPhone to get the guide.  The aquarium's website had a downloadable pocket guide containing the same information.

It always amazes me how miraculous Nature is, and how tenaciously living things persist in their existence.

It snowed a bit here this morning.  Yet, the early grass, leaves and blossoms appear to be taking it in stride.  It is not unusual for it to snow in April, and Nature in this area is not quelled by it.  Delicate flowers and infant sprouts bend under the weight of damp snow, but do not die.

They seem to me to be saying, "I am here, and I will remain and grow no matter what you throw at me."

Morning Mist

I took this photo a few weeks back, just before I left for Florida. The mornings were misty then.  I believe it was because the air was so warm yet the ground and water, still barely recovered from ice and snow, held on to their nearly frozen temperatures.

There was little green showing a few weeks ago.  It is the time of the year where one most appriciates moss, for its oasis of color amidst the drab.  Fairy dust, or garden of forest elves, giving the promise of spring to come.

I left New Hampshire early on an irrationally warm day for the beginning of April - it would be 80 degrees that day.  I was on my way to Florida, the Promise Land for survivors of Northern winters and raw muddy springs.  When I got to Florida it was - tah dah - 80 degrees!  Now THAT wierd coincidence does not happen often.

But I was not going to Florida for the weather.  I was going for my heart.

You see now.

This is the unbearably irresistible call.

The music of life. That is the theme if the book I just closed.
There it is, on my "tray." This is a signed copy, a gift from the author whom I know. I love his phrase - music of life. Think about that. I've considered life many ways, but not as music. But it is. Yes. A simple tune, or a symphony, melodic, jazzy, plaintive and timid, or bold and full.
There is music to our actions in the way we treat others and carry out our beliefs. What about the music of holding a baby, play, and of course making love. There is music in the work we do, especially if it is meaningful. There is even music in sorrow.

What music are you creating?

Travelling today. This post is being sent via texting from my iPhone. I'm on my way to visit my grandchildren in Florida.

I have four unfinished posts saved, lingering unposted. Where did the month of March go? We've gone from piles of snow to 80 degree weather, stoking the woodstove to casting open all the windows to relish the warm breeze. Our appetites have gone from hearty stews and other comfort sustenance to salads and outdoor grilling. Winter to summer.

A bear has visited the bin in which I keep the birdseed. Twice. I find it turned over and broken apart in the early morning when the dogs and I burst out of the house to greet the day. A telltale bag of seed, ripped apart and dirty, is found yards away from the bin, into the woods.

I wish I had stopped to photogaph the sunrise through the mist which graced my early drive to the airport this morning. It delighted me, made me pause in my "gotta hurry," preflight frame of mind. Still, I chose the airport rush and ended up, as usual, with plenty of time to spare. The beauty I beheld this morning only captured in my braincells.