I got another book ~ Why are you not surprised?

The Antiquities Dealer (A David Greenberg Mystery Book 1) ~ by Ed Protzel, 2018, mystery (Missouri, Israel)

Pursued across continents by Christian, Jewish and Muslim extremists, all seeking a priceless relic, antiquities dealer David Greenberg must decipher the sole clue to its whereabouts.  Is humankind's future at stake?  Who is behind the plot — and why?

When Miriam Solomon, the love of David Greenberg’s life, phones him at his antiquities gallery in St. Louis, the black hole at the center of his heart shudders.  Twenty years earlier, Miriam had inexplicably run off to Israel with his best friend, Solly, a brilliant but nerdy young scientist.  Now she tells David that Solly has committed suicide and she needs his aid on a secret research project Solly left unfinished:  to acquire the one remaining nail from the crucifixion of Jesus.  Is she telling the truth?  And why does that nail have such significance?

A local author named Ed Protzel (read his bio here) posted on our neighborhood page that some of his books are only $0.99 right now for Kindle.  I decided to buy this one, after reading Amazon's excerpt, because in the first scene the main characters meet at Blueberry Hill, a restaurant in the Delmar Loop where I've eaten several times.  I take out-of-town friends there, like Mike Feely last year.  The U-City Library has a copy, available whenever the library re-opens.  However, I went ahead and bought it for my Kindle because (as the author says) it's only $0.99 right now.  I'll share the link to his offer, in case any of you are interested:  99¢ STUCK-AT-HOME KINDLE OFFER!  If you don't have a Kindle, Amazon will give you a free app to read a book on your laptop or computer.  I got it myself when a children's book I wanted couldn't be downloaded to my Kindle.  Here's the Facebook page for this book, too.

Cleaning out and looking back

Crown Center irises, May 2019

Flower of the Day

Iris eyes smiling
back at the man who sees
more than a flower

by Judi Walters

haiku posted in a comment
March 30, 2011 at 9:38am

Memories are made of this

Today is my great-granddaughter's birthday, so I'll share a cute story from when she was little.

Raegan:  "The moon smells good."
Her mom:  "What does it smell like?"
Raegan:  "Ladybugs."

Susannah has a thoughtful post today.  I snagged her title:  Cleaning Out and Looking Back.  Here's the part that caught my attention:

"I took the calendars out of the box and sorted through the papers first.  Most of the paper is being recycled as it is no longer something I need.  The calendars stayed in their pile.  Should I keep them?  Why should I keep them?  I opened the first one from 2004, and I was not prepared for the flood of emotions that came to me.  I read of meetings with people I have not seen in years. ... I saw notes about plays and sporting events and parties I attended ... As I turned the pages, I got married, moved to a new state and church, bought a house, said good-bye to my best friend, watched my husband graduate, said good-bye to family members while welcoming others to the family.  So many memories in these pages."

Looking back at memories is something I've been doing during this time at home alone.  (Sorry, Clawdia, I meant home without other humans.)  I'm not reading as much, though I've set up a book discussion for anyone who has the book Purple Hibiscus or has already read it.  I, too, have been sorting through books and papers and tossing stuff.

Yesterday, I gave a couple of books to Rosita, who told me a few years ago that she's from Egypt.  She had called to say she'd heard I was "the librarian" and could I maybe get her a couple of books out of our closed and locked library.  No, I don't have access to that, but I could give her my own books.  I asked her what she likes to read and who her favorite authors are.  "Anything!" was her answer.  She's also a knitter, but has run out of yarn and run out of books.  She sounded so frustrated.  I chose a couple of novels from my shelves and took them in a bag to hang on her door.  Since I had called first to let her know I was coming, she met me at the door on her electric scooter and thanked me profusely.  One frustration taken care of.

Walter Richard Sickert’s interpretation of boredom, which is in the Ashmolean Museum, shows another couple of bored people.

Word of the Day

ennui / en·nui / änˈwē / noun = a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement.  Example:  "He succumbed to ennui and despair."

I had a hard time making myself keep reading the last book in the Little Women series by Louisa May Alcott, Jo's Boys, and How They Turned Out (1886), which I rated 4 of 10 ("struggled to finish, but not worth it").  The reason I'm quoting it now is that I came across the word "ennui" three times in the text:

• "If one could have a fine house, full of nice girls, or go travelling, the summer would be delightful; but to stay at home with three selfish sisters and a grown-up boy was enough to try the patience of a Boaz," complained Miss Malaprop, after several days devoted to pleasure, fretting, and ennui (loc. 2205).
• "Work is wholesome, and there is plenty for everyone; it keeps us from ennui and mischief, is good for health and spirits, and gives us a sense of power and independence better than money or fashion" (loc. 2328).
• "I think I was dying of ennui" (loc. 16186).

Too much ennui causes people to search for something, just anything, to keep busy.  This poor cat is tired of it.  If you can't read that dark writing, it says:  "God, please send them back to work."  A commenter online said, "Or send the children back to school."

New normal

Three of my great-grandchildren today, with their mom.

And the youngest fought it all the way.

Re-reading old favorites

Erin Wathen

"Attention span has left the building."  I read that line the other day in an article by Erin Wathen, also know as Irreverin.  (Can you see "Ir-Rev-Erin" in that moniker?)  The article is entitled The Gospel of Reading What We've Already Read Before.

"Our old stories have some-thing to teach us.  And those that become favor-ites, have a place in our lives for a reason. They teach us how to find hope when that rare bird seems elusive; they teach us resilience and creativity; and most of all, they bring us to a place that is familiar, so we can catch our breath and then get back to the business of navigating the unknown.  The story itself is the gift.  And fact or fiction, it’s as true as anything we know."

I'm sure I'm not the only one who can empathize with the idea that my attention span is less that it used to be.  I haven't been reading nearly as much as normal for me.  But "normal" has changed a lot in the last few weeks, hasn't it?  When I got the book Purple Hibiscus last week, I knew I'd read it before, and it wasn't what I'd call "an old favorite."  I did look through the list of books I've read and discovered I'd given it a rating of 8/10 when I finished reading it in April 2013.  I consider 8 of 10 a "very good" read.  So I've started re-reading this 2003 novel by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.  I'm mentally traveling "back to Nigeria."

Then maybe I'll finish reading Erin Wathen's book that's here beside my chair that I started reading in March, when it was Women's History Month:  Resist and Persist.

Word of the Day

mon·i·ker /ˈmänəkər / noun informal = a name.
Example:  "Her real moniker is Erin Wathen."

Beginning ~ with Papa breaking the figurines

Purple Hibiscus ~ by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, 2003, fiction (Nigeria)

"Things started to fall apart at home when my brother, Jaja, did not go to communion and Papa flung his heavy missal across the room and broke the figurines on the étagère."

I read this novel in 2013, as a library book with the cover pictured above.  On Monday, I was given a newer edition with a bright red cover and intend to start reading it again today.  Adichie is an excellent writer (I've read several of her books), and I'm quite willing to read this one a second time so I can discuss it on my Book Buddies blog.  If you can get a copy, you're welcome to join the discussion.  Here's what it's about:

Kambili (age 15) and her older brother Jaja lead a privileged life.  They live in a beautiful house in Enugu, Nigeria and attend an exclusive missionary school, but their home life is not harmonious.  Their father is a respected businessman, but he is fanatically religious and tyrannical at home.  When their loving and outspoken aunt persuades her brother that the children should visit her, Kambili and Jaja take their first trip away from home.  Once inside their Aunty Ifeoma's flat in the smaller city of Nsukka, they discover a whole new world.  When they return home, changed by their newfound freedom, nothing can be the same as before.  Tension within the family esalates, and Kambili must find the strength to keep her loved ones together — even after her mother commits a desperate act.

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Gilion at Rose City Reader hosts
Book Beginnings on Fridays.
Click this link for book beginnings
shared by other readers.
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Interfaith Day of Prayer

Today is Interfaith Day of Prayer.  Here's a prayer by the Rev. Dr. Traci Blackmon that came in an email this morning.  She is Senior Pastor of Christ the King United Church of Christ in Florissant, Missouri.  She is also Associate General Minister of the UCC's Justice and Local Church Ministries.

Holy One,

Here we are, called by your many names in many languages, to humble ourselves and pray.  Here we are, God, called together from diverse places and spaces to seek your face, to look upon the sickness that has infected our world, to acknowledge the wickedness of both our compliance and our complicity, and to lament the consequences of our actions aloud.  Here we are to wail.  Here we are to sound the alarm.  Here we are to groan.  Here we are, to cry out on behalf of Your creation.  And to turn.

For the voices gathered here as a cacophony of lament on this National Day of Prayer, I honor your power.  For the congregations and communities, both near and far, seen and unseen, heard and ignored, we represent, I honor your presence.  For creation wounded and trying to heal, I give you praise.  For the voices all around this world that never cease to call upon you for the strength to rise, for the courage to confront, and for the hope to sustain, we join our voices to theirs and offer these prayers.  We are crying out to you.

And we are listening.  We are listening for you in the wind.  We are listening for you in the quaking of the earth.  We are listening for you in the fire.  We are listening for you in cries of our people.  We are listening for you, listening in the stillness of our streets.  We are listening.  We are waiting.  Knowing that you hear our cries, we wait for your mercy as we turn our hearts toward your people and heal our land.

We pray in many names.
I pray in the name of Jesus.
Amen

In October 2019, I read White Privilege: Let's Talk ~ A Resource for Transformational Dialogue by Traci Blackmon, John Dorhauer, Da Vita McCallister, John Paddock, and Stephen G. Ray, that was published in 2016.  This resource is only 99-cents for Kindle, and resources for facilitators are available free from the publisher.  Here are some of my notes from that book:

"In the same way that a tinted lens will color everything seen through it, seeing the world through the lens of race changed the way I see everything" (loc. 119).

"Join efforts to repeal the 13th Amendment's exception clause.  Ostensibly, the 13th Amendment, passed in 1865, banned slavery.  But the exception clause still allows it.  The amendment reads: 'Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction" (loc. 2030).

"Rule 1:  Being a white ally is understanding the ubiquity of anti-Black animus held by a majority of white people, and therefore being inclined to believe Black people about the presence of racism in everyday life" (loc. 2233).

"Rule 2:  Being a white ally is not denying the power and privilege that your whiteness brings you, but rather asking how you can use it in the struggles to ameliorate the effects of white supremacy on Black persons and communities" (loc. 2262).

The "Do You Pray" illustration above was in the same email this morning from Parkway UCC.

Flowers, words, and lots of friends

Flower for the Day

My friend Sharon sent me azalea photos this morning along with the poem "Azalea Forest," which I later found online.  I wrote back:  "Is this your house?  The azaleas are beautiful."  She replied, "A friend of mine has published this for a number years.  If you want to be added to his daily posts, lmk and I'll have him add you to it!"

Azalea Forest

Beautiful pink azaleas are growing here and there,

A touch of surreal pink fills the forest air,

Tall, tall trees beautifully grow;

Oh I love this forest so!

Patches of light-green grass,

Grow here and there on the forest path,

Sunlight illuminates the air;

Birds are chirping without a care.

God created each azalea with love,

Just as He made the beautiful dove,

Evening sunlight dances in the west;

Shining in the Azalea Forest.

Marian, August 2013

When we built our house in 1965 on Signal Mountain near Chattanooga, we planted rhododendrons along the front.  I looked up the difference between the two kinds of flowers and found this explanation:

• All azaleas are rhododendrons, but not all rhododendrons are azaleas.
• Most azaleas are deciduous, but true rhododendrons are usually evergreen.
• Azaleas have funnel shaped flowers; rhodendron flowers tend to be bell-shaped.

There were also wild rhodendrons growing on the other side of the mountain stream that ran through our little acre.  I love the flowers.  Mine were more pinkish (like this photo I found online), and I don't remember them ever being as lush and full of flowers as his.

Wednesday Words

• lush / ˈləsh / adjective = growing vigorously, especially with luxuriant foliage.  Example:  My azaleas weren't quite as lush as those pictured above.
• lmk = an acronym meaning "Let Me Know."  This one I could figure out, in the context, but not every reader of my blog may know this.  Example:  If you want to be added to his daily posts, lmk and I'll have him add you to it.
• deciduous / diˈsijo͞oəs / adjective = a tree or shrub that sheds its leaves annually.  Example:  My rhododendrons kept their leaves year round, so they were not deciduous.

Decades of difference

Our meals for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday include glazed salmon, chicken paprikash, and a tuna salad sandwich.  We also get three soups this week:  potato soup, split pea soup, and vegetable soup.  Donna emailed, "Do you want my split pea soup?"  I responded, "Sure, but hang onto it for a day or two, since I've just been down to meet the Instacart guy delivering my groceries, talked to Floyd on the link desk while waiting for the delivery, ran into Emily as she arrived home, spoke to Marie about discussing our new book on the Book Buddies blog, and told Sharon (in passing) that she has a box on the delivery table.  I'm in for today, I think, though Clawdia has been doing mad-cat dashes around the apartment, jealous that I got out of the apartment and won't let HER go for a walk in the hall."

I spoke to a lot of people today, as we were carefully keeping our "social distance" in the hallways and all wearing masks.  It's funny how a mere five people — FIVE — seem like "a lot" after days of staying home and not socializing, not shopping, not attending events, not eating in the dining room or Café together.  It seems like decades since we freely did those things every day!

Speaking of "decades" — I just realized today how very much Donna and I differ in ages, at least during these few days between our birthdays.  As of last week, I'm 80 and can say "I'm in my 80's," while she's only in her 60's.  Good grief!  Oh, well, she'll be 70 on Friday.