The Calling Sunday, May 24 2009 

For those of you who haven’t been to DearReader.com yet, head on over. This neat site gives you categories to choose your from, then each week the openers of the book of the week.  I would never have found Inger Ash Wolfe’s The Calling if not for this site.

The first mystery in this novel is that of the author.  The end page, sans photo, merely says: “Inger Ash Wolfe is the pseudonym for a North American literary novelist.”  Articles and blogs abound about the identity of this author, ranging from Margaret Atwood to Ian Rankin.  One email interview with the author explains her wanting to write crime suspense to stand alone without comparison to her other novels.  She explains she feels the old argument about genre fiction as the stepchild of literary fiction is ‘mostly illusory’ and this novel shows she is right.

Whether or not that mystery will be solved soon, rest assured that The Calling is crime suspense at its finest.  I can’t really call it a mystery, for we are aware of the murderer from the outset.  We think we know who he is; it is the why of his serial murder spree that must be nailed down.  His methods are at odds from traditional serial killers, making him difficult to trace.  An escalation in the crimes is what leads to their connection.

Set in the rural area north of Toronto, the small town of Port Dundas has never quite seen a crime to match that of the murder of cancer victim Delia Chandler and it falls into the lap of  61 year old Detective Inspector Hazel Micallef, a cranky, overweight detective we love at first sight.  Hazel is nursing a bad back that needs surgery, taking painkillers and trying to find food beyond the egg white omelets her mother cooks for her.  Divorced after 36 years of marriage, children grown and away, Hazel’s company these days is this widowed ex-mayor of the town, a formidable woman in her own right.

What I loved about this book was the voice Wolfe gives to her characters, large and small, averting the usual conventions of the genre without obliterating any of the suspense.  It makes for an original and riveting read, one I couldn’t put down.

I am happy to report word has it that Wolfe has finished Hazel’s second novel and I, for one, will be on the lookout for it.  Highly recommended.

The Dark and the Light Wednesday, May 20 2009 

Auntie M found herself running to The Emerald City in a horrendous rainstorm the other day. (If anyone can ‘run’ to Greenville, NC, 1 hr 45 mins from us.)  My goal was a new twin mattress for the hospital bed for Doc from Sam’s, inexpensive but definitely a comfort level above the one he’s on.

I listened on the way in to the offerings on NPR; after Car Talk and Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me, I heard a great interview with Kenneth Branagh about his role as Kurt Wallender, the Swedish detective, in the Mystery series currently playing on our PBS station.  He filled out background of his approach to the role, which I appreciated when I saw the next installment later that evening. (He also mentioned he is now working on the next three in the series for those of you have become addicted to the brooding Swede and the sepia landscape.)

But on the way home, the offerings were slim and I hit the CD button.  Now I must mention I was driving Doc’s rather long, enclosed pickup truck so I could cart the mattress home.  So it would be his choice of music I listened to.  After surfing through the six slots, he only had one filled.  Leonard Cohen filled the cab, one of Doc’s favorites.  Maybe it’s because they share a birthday that he feels a kinship with LC, but he owns every one his recordings, plus two books he’s written.  I personally think it’s because they are both depressives–ever really listen to his lyrics, lovely as they are?  I’m the eternal optimist, the glass half-full person, but Doc needs the occasional elbowing to be up. We are the truism of opposites attracting.

The first time I really became aware of LC, Doc and I were in Quebec.  We’d traveled to Montreal for a medical conference and continued to the Old City for four days of vacation afterward as it was my birthday.  It was very special because although we had been seeing each other for months, we had done so discreetly outside the hospital where we both worked.  This was our first public appearance together in front of his colleagues, many of whom had driven up the Northway from Long Island, as we had, to attend this popular convention.  I don’t think we’d really fooled anyone in our reticence, but I was warmly welcomed at the convention and we left for our time alone in Quebec on a romantic high.

I remember being entranced with the old world charm of the Chateau Frontenac and the city itself.  We ate dinner there on my birthday in their elegant restaurant while a harpist played softly (my favorite instrument and the one I wished I knew how to play).  As the waiter brought our dessert, he placed a plate in front of me with a small silver case.  Inside were a pair of tiny vintage diamond earrings Doc surprised me with–you can believe I was over the moon.

The next day, wearing my new sparklers proudly, it snowed heavily and after a walk had turned out noses to icicles, we found ourselves lingering over huge steaming bowls of chocolat chaud, talking about our future, our three sons and how they were reacting to our new relationship, and listening to the background music.  A gravel-voiced man sang in English, and as the tape repeated itself, I realized his lyrics were very poetic.  I’d only known LC as the writer of Judy Collins famous song “Suzanne,” so to hear him ‘singing’ his own songs was intriguing.  I don’t think I noticed then how depressive most of them were; I was too in love with the man beside me and the moment.

Fast forward twenty some odd (and married for 18) years later, and this CD brought back that memory.  Forget that we have had our disappointments and our losses, our heartache and our pain.  Who in a marriage of any length hasn’t?  What we still have is an enormous love and respect for each other that has weathered the storms we’ve faced together.   That afternoon of romance and a new future stretching out before us, the hopes and dreams we shared, all are caught up for me whenever I hear Leonard Cohen.  And I realized it must be that way for Doc, too, as he had chosen to keep LC in his only filled slot.

Posed for Murder Tuesday, May 19 2009 

I  read Meredith Cole’s Posed for Murder out of sheer curiosity.  She was the winner of the Malice Domestic Best First Traditional Mystery Novel Competition sponsored through St. Martin’s Press-Minotaur Books.  I’d entered one of my own and it didn’t make the cut, so I wanted to see what did.

At first the premise was kind of creepy: a young NY photographer has mounted her first big gallery show, based on unsolved murders.  She’s used friends to recreate the settings and toned them out to black and white images.  Her aim is to draw attention to the nameless victims.

Then I remembered the recent MFA graduation I’d attended of one of my Screw Iowa Writers Group members.  Whilst Mariana’s English mystery was very readable and entertaining, one of her fellow students had done his thesis as a series of poems based on murders, the victims sometimes recounting their last moments.  Now THAT was creepy.

Once I launched into the novel, it got more interesting, as the protagonist Lydia McKenzie describes the different vibes in her Brooklyn neighborhood, and one of Lydia’s friends and models for a photo is murdered–and found in just the same pose as is hanging on the gallery wall.

Lydia gets involved after being questioned and suspected by the detectives on the case.  A nice side bit is her interest in vintage clothing.  And is there a glimmer of romance with the male detective?  We’ll see in the next volume, as this is surely the start of a series.

Great summer reading, fast and enjoyable.

Mrs. Fixit and other Stuff Friday, May 15 2009 

Since Doc has been down, Auntie M has been dealing with most of those household chores he does that I never give a second thought.  Like changing the filters on our water system.

Having a well means that our drinking water tastes like the salt we use in its first filter–its potable but doesn’t taste so good.  And as for using it for tea, coffee or anything other than pasta water, definitely not so good.  Ditto our ice maker.

The filtration system that makes it taste good to drink has been down this entire week.  The filters needed to be changed.  How difficult could this be?  Wednesday afternoon, I head up to the attic with Doc’s directions written down. I go through the steps.  I purge and empty and screw in new filters.  Done.  Wait two hours.  Make dinner.  Check the system.  No water.

Thursday, after a repeated consultation, I go upstairs this time armed with a two-way radio.  From his hospital bed downstairs Doc talks me through it.  Done.  Wait two hours.  No water.  This time I noticed an unplugged plug, but he assures it should be unplugged.

Today, armed with the radios again and the instruction booklet (yes, he had it all the time) I go upstairs.  I consult the book.  I look at the machinery before me.  And immediately see the problem I’ve been having: remember that unplugged plug that wasn’t necessary?  This is true, but that is because THAT goes to the ‘older’ system, which is the one I have been changing the filters on for the past two days.  It is no longer in use. I did NOT know there is a ‘newer’ system, in a different case, sitting on the floor in an enclosed innocuous plastic case, beneath the old one.  AHA!

With the instruction booklet in hand, I now follow the steps ON THE CORRECT APPLIANCE.  They are clear and show diagrams and pictures.  They do NOT mention that you can catch your pinky finger and almost decapitate it, but nonetheless,  and despite a minor flood, voila! two hours later, pure, tasty water.  Ice maker turned back on.  Clear water for cooking dinner tonight.

Who says an old dog can’t learn new tricks?

In other news, Auntie M hit a wall earlier this week.   I got up and told Doc I just didn’t feel right–But couldn’t explain why.  Trying hard to finish a scene so I could get my pages out to my Screw Iowa buddies for reading before our June workshop, I gave Doc lunch, went back to the computer, and my eyes felt like they were going to fall out of my head.  My head spun, which made me nauseated. I had to sleep, at just that minute.   I told Doc I was just going to “lie down for a bit.”  Six hours later when I surfaced, he’d called Mom to come out and handle dinner so I could stay in bed.

So I did.  That night and into the next day, I slept and she brought me tea and English muffins, took care of Doc, and generally let me get over whatever hit me.  By the next night I was feeling better, and when she left the next morning,  I thanked her profusely.  Really, she gets to me sometimes, but she really knows how to pitch in when I need her.

Just as she was leaving I bent over to pick up her bag, giving her a good broadside view of my fat ass bottom.  I kissed her thanked her again.  Couldn’t have done it without her.  She smiled and gave me this parting shot: “Your pants are stuck in your crack.”

Gotta love that woman!

The Anniversary Tuesday, May 5 2009 

Yesterday day was Auntie M and Doc’s wedding anniversary–18 years official + 5 living together = 23 years we’ve been merging our lives.

We’re having a low fence built around our hot tub to keep dogs and Grands out, so that is our gift.  But I did have a card for him.  Being bedridden didn’t allow for shopping, so I wasn’t expecting one from him.

Doc has been battling a bad GI bug; no stamina and low resistance after the last 4 1/2 months left him unable to fight this off.  He lost 13 pounds in ten days (no, I don’t know why this is that men can lose weight so quickly.  It is totally unfair).  But he decided to soldier on and wanted to go to Physical Therapy, despite stomach pains and general weakness.  I can’t talk him out of it.   So here is how our anniversary went:

We leave house a bit later than usual in the morning as Doc is in slo-mo.  Get to post office, nine miles away, and he remembers we need to do some banking.  Did he tell me this before we left home?  No.  And I’ve left the checkbook home.  Back home and restart out.

We’re close to the hospital in town when he tells me to hurry a bit, he needs to get to the bathroom. We make it in time, but the therapist takes one look at his gaunt face and hollow eyes and says, “No PT for you today.  You need to see the doctor.”

Now our doctor’s office is literally across the street from the hospital, so I get him from the bathroom and push the wheelchair across the street and up the ramp. This is no mean feat as most of this road is gravel.  Our doc’s office is slammed.  And it’s close to closing time for lunch.  His nurse comes out and tells us our doctor wants us to go to the ER and get some IV fluids and he’ll see us there.

Back down the ramp, across the road, push the wheelchair up another ramp and into the ER, where the nurses know us and joke they are going to name a room after Doc.  Once he gets set up and the IV in, gets snuggled under a warm blanket, he relaxes and I see how pale his face is.  He needs these fluids.  Our doc comes in and tells him he’ll need a second liter and then we can go home.  His blood tests are good, just show the dehydration, and the test for an ulcer is negative.  Doc apologizes for ruining our day. I tell him as long as we are together, it doesn’t matter.  I almost mean it.

Doc sends me to get some lunch with my mom, who lives in town and frequently stops in at PT to say hello.  They, of course, sent her to the ER.  On our way back from eating a quick burger, she has me stop at her house to pick up the dozen pink roses she bought for our big day.  They are really pretty and perk me up.  When I get back to the ER, I open all the windows so the roses won’t die, as it’s warm and in the 80’s.

Two hours later, the second liter is running. (You can’t jam this stuff in  or you overload the patient’s heart, not a good thing.)  We joke about spending our anniversary in the ER.  Doc has eaten a decent lunch after they gave him meds for the stomach pains and dozes off.  I hear a loud noise from outside as the lights flicker and go out.  In a minute the generator starts and we have lights again, but a raging thunderstorm with pea-sized hail is going on outside.

This is what the locals in NC call a ‘frog guzzler’ a real soaker with rain so fast and furious you can’t see the cars in the parking lot.  The same lot where my truck is parked. With its windows open for the roses.  . .

An hour later we are good to go.  The hail has stopped, but it’s still raining a steady downpour.  I run to the vehicle swathed in plastic the ER nurses give me and have to wade through a puddle that soaks my Birki’s and wets my jeans halfway up my leg.  I use towels to try to dry the seats.  They bring Doc to the front door where an overhang gets him in without incident.  All set to go.

We stop at the pharmacy and I run inside to fill his scripts.  But wait, the lights in town are out, remember?  So the pharmacist can’t get online to do anything.  He is, however, a good friend and gives me a few of the stomach pills to hold us over.  Back through the rain to the truck.  I am so wet by now, my jeans have wicked the rain up to my knees and my shirt is soaked through.  “Nice bra,” Doc says, with a hint of amusement.  I squeeze water out of my wet hair.

We set off for home, only I hear a weird noise and go slowly in the shopping center lot.  Doc says the car is listing to one side a bit.  Then a dashboard light comes on.  “LOW TIRE PRESSURE.”   Ya think?   I get out in the rain and run around the side.  The front tire is flat as a pancake.  And it’s still raining.

We call the local tire place and fortunately, they have become friends over our 13 years down here.  The owner sends her son and another man to our rescue.  They change the tire in the pouring rain and I tip them gratefully.  The tire is ruined, a huge chunk of glass in it from in front of the pharmacy.  We’ll have to get a new one on our next trip to PT Weds.  But we are ready to go home.

When we finally get home, it’s starting to get dark.  We’ve been out of the house for nine hours, I’m soaked to the skin although now it’s starting to dry and get nice and clammy on the half hour ride home.  Doc restrains me from getting out of the car to get his walker, and hands me a card.

A card?  Where did he get a card?  He confesses he found it a few months ago and saved it in his desk for today.

I open it and the cover is a black and white phot0graph  (Doc knows I love B/W photo’s).

It shows the back of a tall gentleman (Doc is 6′ 4″) with white hair (yes) holding hands with a short (I”m 5′ 2″ on a good day) woman, kinda chunky (ditto).  They are naked, and they are running into the surf at the ocean.  They are about 80 years old.

The caption is a quote from someone named Jerome K. Jerome: “Nothing is more beautiful than the LOVE that has weathered the storms of  life.”

And in that moment I realize I really DID mean it.  And how lucky I am to have this man in my life.

And that it was really a very good anniversary, after all.

Thumbs Up, Thumbs Down Monday, May 4 2009 

Auntie M’s Google Images is not responding due to our rain/thunderstorms in the SE today, so I can’t give you any cover images today of these two books.  But each will be easy for you to find on the shelves.

Nancy Atherton’s newest is Aunt Dimity Slay the Dragon.  Atherton’s cozy series, usually set in England, revolves around Lori Shepherd, her busy twins, hunky hubbie Bill, and the spinster ‘aunt’ who left Lori their adorable cottage, somewhere outside Oxford in the Cotswolds fictional village of Finch.

Aunt Dimity comes to Lori in a journal and provides her with a sounding board when she goes off on her hunches, solving mysteries real and imagined.  It’s been a fun series, quick reads I call ‘brain candy.’  Until this one . . .

IF you want to know  are intested in Renaissance Festivals, this is the book for you.   The details are many and educational if you’re interested in Everything You Wanted to Know About RenFests.   But I couldn’t help feeling as I was reading that it wasn’t up to the same standards as the past books.  The ‘mystery’ bit is long in coming, and is a sort of disappointment when it pans out.

I got the feeling Nancy Atherton, whom I usually adore, was pressed for a deadline or simply needs a break.  Maybe she needs to take Lori and Aunt Dimithy on a cruise?

On the other hand, Face of Betrayal was so fast paced I read it in one night and one afternoon.  Written with mystsery writer April Henry, former prosecutor Lis Wiehl has come up with a trio of ladies we hope to get to see more of over the next few books.

Reporter Cassidy Shaw, Federal Prosecutor Allison Pierce, and FBI Special Agent Nicole Hedges are the “Triple Threat” ladies who form this lively new series.  Their personal lives, religious views, and family situations are as different as can be, which adds to the interest.  In this first installment, set in Portland, a 17 year-old Senate page home for Christmas break disappears after taking her dog for a walk.

By showing the story from three diverse perspectives, and objectives, including the reporter who needs this story to climb the ladder, we are treated to the advancement of the story and varying ways of obtaining information.

We also get a look at the behind-the-scenes reality of these very different occupations, from the makeup consultant called in to show the changes needed for high definition TV coverage, to the functioning of a grand jury, to the boring grunt work that makes up any FBI investigation.  There’s a smattering of romance and sex, but not too heavy.  Just enough to keep it interesting.

I give this one a high thumbs up!

BARF diet for pets Thursday, Apr 30 2009 

Note: This post is running simultaneously on EcoWomen–check us out!

BARF is an acronym for Biologically Appropriate Raw Food.  No, it has nothing to do with vomiting, and in fact, most animals on it rarely do!  The diet is based on food you find in your supermarket, your cuttings of things that used to go into your compost pile, and supplements such as cod liver oil, alfalfa and yogurt.

In our house, we call it Bone And Raw Food.  The BARF diet was championed by Australian vet Dr. Ian Billinghurst and has been around for almost twenty years now.  (You can order his small book  The BARF Diet through Amazon.com).  He believes our domesticated pets should be fed the same evolutionary diet they would eat in the wild to mimic the ‘gold standard’ of diets, one which is the most health-promoting.

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The diet is based on the belief that a grain based diet, which dry kibble is mostly composed of, is not biologically sound for your pet.   Studies have shown that diets high in grains and other starches contribute to most degenerative diseases in pets.

Eco Lassie switched to a raw food diet when our German Shephard dog, Angus, was having difficulties with arthritis around the same time the dog food scare ran throughout our nation.  Although Angus has now passed to doggie heaven where it rains bones, he lived to be 13 and was able to run and do stairs until the last week of his life.  His sister, Miss Murray, has been on the diet and is doing well at 15.  Our almost-two year old Spinone, Radar, has been on it since he came to live with us at eight weeks of age and is thriving.

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Why is a raw diet good for your dog or cat? Raw food contains living enzymes and proteins that help your pet’s body function.  Once food is cooked or processed, these die, and digesting other diets stresses the pancreas to produce those same proteins to function.  Enzymes in a raw diet don’t just maintain health, they can repair and restore, too.

Why feed a BARF diet? Pets fed this tend to be free of dental problems, skin issues, eye and ear problems, digestive and bowel problems, kidney and heart problems, pancreas and liver problems, and immune system problems.  They have a hugely reduced chance of developing infections and degenerative diseases.  And they rarely get cancer.  Owners with older dogs who have already developed these problems will see a great reduction and, in some cases, the disappearance altogether of these problems.

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As a pet owner feeding this diet, here are the concrete things I see:

Teeth and Breath: My dogs do not have tartar buildup thanks to the bones they gnaw on.  They also do not have ‘doggie’ breath, but have that nice ‘puppy’ breath young dogs have.

Skin and Coat: We noticed this right away.  Both our our dogs rarely shed, and their coats are healthy and shiny.  Murray has not had any of the raw or ‘hot spot’ issues she was prone to.

Stool Volume and Odor: Both dogs have a reduced volume of stool and there is little, if any, odor.  The stool turns white after a day and as digested protein, disintegrates right back into the ground.  They rarely have digestive issues unless someone feeds them too much cooked fat from the table.

Body Mass: Murray has lost weight, which she needed to do, which puts less strain on her older joints.  Radar is lean and healthy, as the diet increases your pets’ metabolic rate, and thus its healthy life span.

What the diet consists of: Dogs and cats are omnivores; in the wild they scavenge for whatever is available.  This means they eat meats, offal, vegetables, fruits and bones.

60% raw meaty bones( RMB’s)–yes, dogs can eat bones that are RAW, they only splinter when cooked.  I buy pork neck bones, chicken wings and chicken necks in bulk and give them the occasional large beef bone, which they adore.  In the fall, my husband adds venison meat and bones to this mix.

15% crushed veggies and 5% fruits–these MUST be crushed to break down the cell wall.  Dr. Ian says this is to mimic the gut contents of a dog or cat’s prey.  You can use a food processor or a juicer.

10-15% (dogs) and 15-25% (cats) offal–yeah, the tough part.  This is fresh, raw internal organs, such as liver, kidneys, heart and tripe.  EEEW I can hear you saying.

Supplements– cod liver oil adds Omega 3’s and Vitamins; yogurt adds probiotics to aid in digestion.  The raw food diet contains healthy bacteriawhich aid digestion, activite the immune system and promote health.  It’s like a mini vaccination with each meal.  Adding dairy probiotics in yogurt suuplies nutrients such as folic acid, Niacin and the B vitamins.  These are an energy source, increase the ease of digestion, and reduce allergic symptoms and help to prevent allergies.

WATER–dont’ forget to always have fresh water around for your pet. This diet is also high in water content.

What does this boil down to for the average pet owner?  Here’s what we feed our dogs:

Mostly raw meaty bones which means a pork neck bone for ‘breakfast’ andanother in the afternoon or evening.  Their evening meal is either chicken necks or cut up chicken wings, based on their weight. (How to’s on Dr. Ian’s book or online).  I buy these in bulk from our local meat farms and freeze them by a meal’s worth.  Each night when feeding I pull out the next day’s meal to defrost in the fridge.

We save our cuttings from veggies, fruits, and those you would add to to compost pile go instead into a ziplock in the fridge.  We also save our egg shells. Once every few weeks I pick up ground beef, and some chicken livers or kidneys or hearts or other ‘offal.’  I mix the offal in with the leftovers and egg shells and crush it all together. (I use my food processor.)  I add this soupy mix to the beef, add cod liver oil and alfalfa, and make patties which I freeze.  I alternate these patties for meals to change their diet and give them over the course of a month everything they need.  I add plain yogurt and raw eggs here and there to their bowls at a regular feed to vary the taste and add probiotics.

I also use common sense cleaning methods for my utensils and the dishwasher and nightly leave their bowls  soaking filled with soapy water for the next day.

I always have a can of pumpkin on hand; pumpkin is a natural digestive aid and if you feel your dog is straining at bathroom breaks, you can add some to the meat mixture until they get used to this kind of diet.

Is this a lot of work?  On the day we get home from the meat farm, an hour and half to bag.  On the day I make up the patties, another hour of work.  But otherwise I just pull a meal from the freezer and go.

IF you are interested, but either don’t have the butcher/meat farm resources OR can’t imagine putting your hands into a mixing bowl of ground meat/liver/kidney’s with crushed fruits and veg and a bit of cod liver oil thrown in, don’t fret.

The Only Natural Pet Store carries many lines of packaged raw pet food.  Some of the makers are: Primal Pet Foods, Nature’s Variety, Raw Advantage Organic, Bravo Raw, Stella & Chewy’s Frozen Raw, Nature’s Logic Raw, and Raw Advantage.  Some are frozen but most are freeze-dried.  Of course, these prepared foods will cost you a lot more over a month’s time.  So you just might want to put on a pair of gloves!

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Wisteria Sunday, Apr 26 2009 

Wisteria is one of my all-time favorite viney things.

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I love the fragrant purple bunches of grapey flowers, the graceful way they droop and hang.  The wisteria vines at Monet’s Giverny are thick with age, huge clumps of blossoms hanging and swaying over the bright green bridges.

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When Doc and I were building The Briary, we had our shop behind the house put up first.  That way we were on site when the builders were, and we used the shop for storage (and lunch) and kept our garden tools there.  Whilst the men sawed and hammered, we planted and cleared.  One of the first things we put in behind our veggie plot  and walked garden was a lovely wisteria vine.

That was six years ago.  The first year we were rewarded with our tiny vine climbing halfway up the pine tree trunk.  The second year it wrapped itself and greened out gloriously and reached for the top.  My neighbors told me wisteria sometimes doesn’t flower until year 3.  I waited anxiously for my first sighting of purple.

Year Three came and went and still no blooms.  Ditto Year 4.  I confess I gave up.  Then I read an article somewhere saying they were prone to get root bound, and to cut into the earth around the roots, chopping them up, to stimulate growth.  I read the article to Doc and he obliged one hot and sweaty day. The wild wisteria that blooms effortlessly along our highways mocked me.

Year 5–no flowers.  I thought of the wisteria at The Parsonage in Oxford, wrapping itself up the building, one of my favorite places for High Tea, and how I’d tried bring a tiny bit of that memory to our home.  Theirs is lovely:

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Last week Doc got the good news that his knee fx’s were healed.  PT is aggressive now, new machines being utilized, exercises increased, sitting in wheelchair time increased as his pelvic fx heals, too.  We are determined to get him walking normally, or as close to it as possible.  The news obviously put both of us in a good mood.  That evening when I was talking on the phone to a friend in Florida, I wandered to our front porch.  And looked toward the garden.  And saw this:

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Whoops of hollering and delight abounded.  It’s not the Parsonage or Giverny, but we at least have a chance to get there.

I thought of persevering and the hard work Doc is doing to walk again.  I thought of how I’d given up on this plant until Nature showed me what it had in store for me.  I thought that although I’m not highly superstitious, just a tad, that this was The Big Guy’s way of showing me not to give up.  Ever.  And that this week’s news was the portent of Good Things to Come.

As evidenced by my blooming wisteria.

The Birthday Present Tuesday, Apr 21 2009 

Barbara Vine is England’s treasured author, Ruth Rendell, one of the Golden Three of English Women novelists who also happen to be friends: Rendell, PD James and Frances Fyfield.  Now Baroness Rendell of Babergh (hey, I don’t know how the Queen comes up with these titles!), you may know her from her string of psychological crime thrillers or her best-selling series featuring Chief Insp. Reg Wexford and his family, which has also been serialized by the BBC and seen  in the US on Mystery!

Winner of three Edgar’s and four Gold Dagger Awards for her novels, Rendell is an accomplished author no matter which of her names she writes under.

The Birthday Gift is a crime novel with the unusual twist of not being about a murder at all.  Rather, it centers on the unraveling of a British MP, Ivor Tesham, whose idea of a birthday present for his mistress–to have her ‘kidnapped’ on the street, trussed up and brought to him for a night of sexual fantasy–goes horribly wrong.

It’s told in the beginning from the viewpoint of Ivor’s brother-in-law, a family man who is often repulsed by his in-law’s actions and sometimes cavalier attitude, while still trying to be supportive to his wife, the cad’s sister.  Halfway through, Vine adds the point of view of a spinster who has fallen is love with the dead woman’s cuckolded husband.

There is no great mystery here, other than watching how the big man will fall as the years pass and he thinks he is safe, and yet Vine is such a capable author, she reels the reader in and you feel compelled to see the story unfold.  Twice I thought I would put it aside as I knew there was no surprise ending; twice I picked it up until I’d finished it.

This is not a page turner, but rather a study in characters, done in a mild, mannerly way which disguises the awful hubris man can possess.  It also provides an interesting view into Parliament and the daily life of an rising MP.

Hamish Sunday, Apr 19 2009 

Hamish is our resident ghost.  Doc named him because I love that name for some peculiar reason and wanted to name our puppy that.  “Radar” won out, and by naming our ghost Hamish, he thinks he has nipped that one in the bud for any future animals we might own.

My Google Images won’t upload any pictures today due to rain, but I picture him along the lines of friendly Casper, a nebulous, jolly child, not scary or threatening.

He manifests himself in creaky noises we’ve thought were coming from inside the wall of our bedroom.    We’ve gotten quite used to him over the two years or so he’s been with us, and one or the other will ask if perhaps Hamish could cook dinner tonight, or bring us breakfast in bed.

It was only last night when I was putting Doc’s winter robe away in a vintage armoire we have against that wall that the secret of Hamish was revealed.  The piece in question is an English wardrobe by Ambrose Heal, an Arts and Crafts designer and craftsman who made furniture between 1896 and the 1950’s.

Hand-finished weathered oak, probably from around the time of WWI, it has a right hand door which opens and allows the middle mirrored door to open, revealing slide out shelves on top and five drawers on the bottom.  The left hand door which opens to a section with a bar, which is where we keep our robes.

It seems if this left hand door is not tightly screwed shut, it will gape just enough to creak on its vintage hinges, producing our ‘ghost.’  It doesn’t swing open, which is why we hadn’t figured it out before.

I’m almost sorry I found the cause–I think I’ll keep it to myself.  It’s much more fun having a non-threatening ghost in the house!

For those of you keeping track, Doc is coming along slowly but steadily.  He’s using a Wii game in physical therapy which told him Friday his balance was that of a 75 year old man!  He’s working on it.  But every day he walks a few steps more, and sits up a bit longer in his wheelchair.  He is regularly getting up for an hour for dinner right now, and today sat on the porch in the sun before the rain came, whilst I trimmed his hair and watched the purple martins at play.

I’ve told him his goal is to be reasonably independent by the end of June, when I will leave him with Mom for a week to go to Utah this year for my Screw Iowa Writers Group conference.  Check us out on http://www.screwiowa.com.

And enjoywhat’s left of  your weekend~

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