I haven’t written because I’ve been preoccupied by things that I don’t wish to record for posterity. Besides, I’ve said it all before. It can be reduced down to a thick bitter gravy of “ouch, I hurt, I dread what’s coming next and I have valid criticisms of these various institutions that people keep writing off.” No sense dragging it out over 500 words or so.
I also realised that my last weeks’ blog entries have been overwhelmingly skewed toward “I dislike this thing.” Whether it’s whining about my expensive e-Reader that I’m lucky to have or whinging about a book that was someone else’s hard work, I’ve been on a critical jag. The world needs constructive criticism and that’s what I try to do; but it also needs pointing out the good things. Today I’m going to do that. Today is a list of things that are wonderful. My list does not include girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, though, because that’s not so much a “wonderful” thing as a “why did they put that in the song?” thing. I always wonder why a nun sings about loving little girls. It’s not really a good idea, I think. Anyway…
Books that make you stop everything else
There are bad books and okay books and good books and great books. Then there is this other class of book that exists outside the world of Books and are something else altogether. When you find one you just know you’ve hit upon something so special it can’t be disregarded. It’s like finding your true love or the perfect meal or the greatest vacation you ever had–and finding all easily fitting in the palm of your hand and their whenever you want it. Sometimes large groups of people agree on which books these are (I have yet to meet someone who isn’t thoroughly drunk with pleasure by Patrick Rothfuss’ The Name Of The Wind and The Wise Man’s Fear) and sometimes you’re the only person who is so captivated. (I am completely in love with Deborah Smith’s The Crossroads Cafe) It doesn’t matter. If the book swallows you, it’s a grand thing and one of those nuggets of gold in the streambed.
Hammocks in the Sunshine
Lying suspended and cradled, gently rocking in the breeze, sheltered by the trees planted by an unknown farmer decades past…this is one of those things that proves a God to me. That you can be anchored by time and experience the soul of the wind in a calming way, that’s a sort of message from God that I Am.
Yes, society is trying to make this wonderful thing into the next class-action lawsuit. Trial lawyers intend to take it the way of the cigarette and the trans fat; they look at the fizzy drink as a sort of carbonated pot of money for the taking. I don’t care. I KNOW the calories are empty and the caffeine is a drug. It doesn’t matter. Because every now and again when the mood strikes there is nothing quite so perfect as an icy Coke sipped from a cold glass. Other folks are scholars of wine and students of coffee. I have always been a soda girl, ever since I was small. My life could be structured as an ode to the great sodas I’ve drunk and especially to the role Coke has played in my life. Cold cans on camping trips, two-litre bottles in the back of the van as we drove through Europe listening to the Cats soundtrack, the 500ml bottles I kept cold in the flower box outside my London window during January…Coke has been part of my life as long as I’ve had skin. I love it.
There are other things for this list, but these are the biggies today. Just thought I’d share.