The Wild About Books blog has clearly gotten off task these last couple of posts, but there sure were numerous views, visitors and comments with my rambling about daily life in Montana. I would like to thank Tom for being such a good sport and assure everyone, including Tom’s girlfriend, that the flirting in Darby is all innocent fun.   The mission of this blog is to be a seriously great resource for book lovers.  I digressed.

The January Book selection as stated in the first blog of this month is, “Orphan Train”.  I just finished and this is a wonderful book with  very good writing and an intriguing story line.  It took me a few pages to get into it and then I had a hard time putting it down.  I  recommend this book and believe that you will enjoy it too.

“Orphan Train” has opened up a door for me that I was unaware had been closed.  My maternal grandmother was raised in an orphanage in the same time frame as this book and reading it has me asking many questions about her.  Pauline Stanley Wright died a tragic death when I was 3 months old so I never really knew her. Perhaps this unknown story of my grandmother is even more interesting to me now that I am almost the age she was when she died and my daughter is the age my mom was when she lost her mother.  I know from the few stories I’ve heard that she was loved by all. I also know that when I watch the relationships between a granddaughter and her maternal grandmother that I have missed out on what appears to be a key relationship in our lives. Granddaughters seem to be more patient and accepting than daughters and not as sensitive to the comments from the grandmother. Where a daughter will take a comment from her mother as criticism, a granddaughter will  take it as wisdom and carry it with her.  When I watch my daughter sit with my mom and teach mom how to use her new iPad or help her with her facebook page I know that I was robbed of a special relationship with my grandmother. Then I feel selfish when I think of my own mom, who had just turned 24, and lost her mother.

My mom told me stories about her mother as I was growing up.  Some stick, most don’t and now I’m craving the details.  How did Pauline and her brother Robert end up in an orphanage?  What happened to their mother Roxie?  How did anyone survive hardships 100 years ago?  In the “Orphan Train” they shipped the orphans out west and put them to work, free labor.  I wonder how people today can complain about “our economy” when they read books or hear the stories from this time frame of the early 1900’s.  I asked my mom to start emailing me stories about her mom.  I’ve also asked my Uncle’s and cousins for information as well. This is the door that has been closed. Untold stories suppressed. Due to the tragic death no one in the family talks about it. The story hoovering over us like a bad dream that we don’t want to re-live. Is it possible to create some family healing through story telling?

One story I remember is that every Christmas at my grandmother’s

orphanage all of the children would get an orange.  They were so excited to get an orange that they ate the whole thing, peel and all.  Another story I remember and still play in my head is that my mom was in a state of shock after her mother’s death.  In a trance. Shut down from the world.  Then the baby would cry.  And a voice would tell her; “you’ve got to take care of the baby”.  I believe that my orphan grandmother has been looking out for me ever since. It’s about time I got to know the story of my guardian angel.

One of the theme’s or lesson’s learned in “Orphan Train” is that everything happens for a reason.  Perhaps you get fired or you’re having a difficult relationship with a co-worker.  In order to get through difficult times you have to remind yourself that everything happens for a reason.  I believe this and make it through life preaching this, but deep down, I doubt it.  I can never come up with a reason for my grandmother’s young, preventable, and horrendous death.

Hard to believe I’ve written 20 posts already and not once have I mentioned Tom, the Darby UPS man.  I only bring him up now because my biggest fear came true today while at my appointment at The Electric Beach and Hair Studio in downtown Darby.  Yes, as I’m sitting in the chair with hair and aluminum foil heading in every direction, my nose looking bigger and my face looking redder (without the hippy style hair to help tone it  down) in walks Tom, the hot UPS man.  I make myself small and try to hide behind my pregnant hair stylist. I’m tempted to get up and run into the tanning booth room; when I hear;

“Lisa? ……Is that you over there?”

Of course he knows it’s me.  My truck is parked out front.  The whole town knows I’m getting my hair aluminum foiled today.  Even my beautiful man Brett asked me that night what I was doing in town  all day.  All day translates to 90 minutes.

I never thought I would be the kind of person who spent 90 minutes getting my hair done.  I didn’t start getting my hair aluminum foiled until I got progressive lenses and my baby turned 20 years old.  It was then that I decided I didn’t want gray hair too.  It’s bad enough that I now tilt my head in that awkward way when I read in order to look through the reading part of my progressive lenses.  I wasn’t going to magnify my aging with gray hair too.  It was more the color of dirty dishwater; not really a color at all.  No one else uses the term “aluminum foiled”.  I still can’t call it what it is.  I don’t want to admit that I get my hair colored.  But now Tom knows.  This will be the last time I get a cut and color appointment at noon.

“Tom! …..did you pick up my package today?”

I had ordered some jeans from Amazon. I have to tell you my new favorite way to shop for jeans is on Amazon.  You buy enough so that there is not a shipping charge.  You have millions of styles and sizes to choose from. They arrive in a week and  you try them on at home.  The ones you don’t like go back in the bag, go to the Amazon website and hit the return items option.  They email, you a UPS label for free, no shipping charges and refund your credit card right then. Done.   Skinny jeans.  I bought skinny jeans. Junior skinny jeans.  I had a feeling they may not fit over my hips and butt. I was never able to test that since I could not get them over my calves.  I’m a size 6  and could not get these jeans over my calves.  A person would have to be unhealthy or 9 years old or more likely an unhealthy 9 year old to put these jeans on.  I printed my label and placed the package in the hall at work for Tom to pick up. I put a sticky note on the package that said; “Tom, pick me up” and I drew my boobs on the sticky note so that he would know who it was from.  The English teacher walked through the hall as I placed my package on the floor and asked if those were eyeballs.  No, I said, they are my breast.

All the women’s eyes in Darby get wide with excitement at the sound of the UPS truck.  I always feel bad for the substitute drivers who have to deal with the looks of disappointment at every stop.  One evening I heard the UPS truck coming down our driveway and I ran outside  to meet the truck. The driver is not Tom but a substitute.  “Oh jeez!” I said to the driver, “I thought you were Tom; I almost flashed you my tits”.

I also feel bad for the husbands. “Did you order something again dear? The UPS man is here” as his wife scurries through the living room tripping over the cat to get to the front door.

Whenever there’s a group of women together we end up talking about Tom.  I was in a pilates class one day and we start discussing Tom before class.  We were all laughing and joking about hot Tom.  Some of the women didn’t know of Tom and said they would go home that night and order something online for him to deliver.  We started our class and one of the pilates students came in late.  As she walked through the room and started rolling out her mat I interrupted the class and said “we were just talking about your boyfriend”. She looks up and says “Tom??”

One of the women business owners in town says she always signs the little machine thing and he never looks at so one day she wrote “kiss me” instead of signing her name.  She forgot about it and the next time he delivered he hands her the machine to sign and he’s already written  “when?”  Her face was very red when she handed it back.  This man could write a book.  He could probably do a lot more than write a book if he wanted to.

Everyone has a Tom story in Darby.  These are all mothers and wives. Young and those who aluminum foil their hair.

“Tom brought me a big package today”

“Oh whatever; in your dreams”

I have finally figured it out.  You will be so proud of me.  After 50 years; I have decided what I want to be when I grow up.  There have been times in my life when I thought I knew what I wanted to be.  At four years old I wanted to be a ballerina or a check out girl at the Bi-Rite Grocery.  At ten years old I decided I would be the first woman president.  As a young teen I figured I would have 9 children so that I could own my own professional baseball team. There have been many ideas, but nothing I felt passionate about. It’s why I never finished college.  I was never passionate enough to spend my time and money on a particular degree.  My college transcripts look like my music playlist.  A hodge podge of mismatched unconnectable dots. Honestly, my all time dream and proudest accomplishment is being a mom.  I wanted 5 kids; I wished for twins during both pregnancies.  I loved changing diapers.  I’m a freak, but it’s true, I loved it. But I did that and the jobs I held at that time were secondary as the mom job came first.

A list of Lisa’s career adventures:

1. Check out girl at the Bi-Rite Grocery (that was one dream come true)
2. Check out girl at Mickey’s Mart in Disney World
3. Assistant Manager at Subway (I was over 18 and could use the meat slicer so they made me assistant manager)
4. Work study job at Guilford Technical College
5. Drafter (in Germany)
6.  Drafter (in North Carolina where I also became a licensed plumber and licensed Heating and Air Conditioning Contractor)
7. Maid, waitress, bartender, dishwasher, lawn boy, pool cleaner…..(CINDERELLA!!!) at a “resort” in Montana.
8. Caretaker of a Motel in Darby
9. Caretaker of a Laundromat in Darby
10. Step aerobics instructor
11. Summer Camp Leader
12. Substitute Teacher
13. Leader for Adventure Cycling
14. Assistant Secretary at Darby School
15. Secretary at Darby High School
16. Bookkeeper for a crook in Hamilton
17. Nine days at Halo Heaven (first job that I said; “this isn’t working out for me” and didn’t come back the next day)
18. Lightfoot Cycles (assembled recumbent bikes; this was my favorite job)
19. Darby School District Clerk and Business Manager (this is the best job I’ve ever landed; but, it’s not me).

Nineteen jobs in 50 years.  My dad has worked the same job in that exact same time frame, as in; one job for the last 50 years!  I’m sure I’ve left out some things too.  Like selling rubber stamps; a network marketing gimmick in which you spend more on the product than you make. I bet on football too; but that ends in the same result as the network marketing.

“Do what you like and the money will follow”.  Is this true?  Do I have the confidence to test these waters.  Throw in the proverbial steady job towel.  Will I let wild abandon win over ridiculous, meticulous,  never ending, non-motivating, waste of my talents paper pushing desk job?  How much longer can I fake caring?

A Writer. An Adventurer. An Entrepreneur.

That’s what I want to be. Is it possible to make a living being an entrepreneurial adventure writer?  Should I not even think about that part and just do it?

“Let the world know what you want and the universe will take care of the rest.”

Montana adventures naturally lead to a good story.  Let me practice my writing on you (ha, like I don’t already).

It was New Year’s Day and I was traveling with my beautiful man through the Big Hole towards Jackson.  We had just finished cross country skiing with our black lab on Anderson Mountain at Chief Joseph Pass on the continental divide. There was plenty of snow at this elevation and it was a brisk 5 degrees.  The sky was a brilliant blue and the sun was bright and glistening on the snow.  It’s very magical and peaceful cross country skiing on this mountain.  We arrived in Jackson for a soak in their rustic, quaint, full of it’s own personality hot springs.  It’s 5 degrees and walking out the door into the pool area is a challenge wearing only a bathing suit.  The steam from the hot water has frozen on all of the fixtures, power lines, furniture and walls surrounding the pool creating ice stalactites and stalagmites everywhere .  I feel as if I’ve entered the scene of a spaghetti western Disney movie. Even the hand rail into the pool is coated in a frozen sculpture.  The water is 101 degrees which is just perfect, not too hot that you are torn between the too hot water and the too cold air.  After 40 minutes or so we are pretty much cooked. We get out soaking wet and look for our towels on a stalactite. We were now famished and decided to try the restaurant across the street.  Jackson Montana has a population of 50 and has two restaurants; one at the hot springs and one across the street.  Rosa’s Cantina.  Yum, some Mexican food sounds perfect.  We walk into the restaurant, there is a women on the floor playing with two basset hounds.  I hope that she is a customer.  There is a man sitting at the counter staring at us in a “Deliverance” kind of way, knowing that we aren’t from around there.  I hope that he is a customer.  No such luck.  They are the proprietors of the establishment. The waitress and the cook.  They greet us and tell us to sit anywhere.  We are the only customers and have our choice of truly anywhere.  The basset hounds are also excited to have customers and follow us  nudging  our palms with their wet noses hoping for some pets as their owners holler unsuccessfully for them to “com’ere”.  The restaurant smells like smoke, wet dog, dish water and old grease.  I’m starting to question our choice.  We sit in a booth and the woman brings us two plastic covered food stained menus.  Brett’s upset that he forgot his reading glasses.  I assure him not to be upset about that, that this is not a Mexican restaurant.  I read the menu items off to him; chicken fried steak, fried prawns, fried seafood platter, burgers with fries and many more frozen items that can be quickly turned into a meal with the magic fryer basket.  My vegan stomach was not seeing any options, Brett is trying to figure out how we politely walk out and the basset hounds are insisting that we must be family.   I stand up.  Brett stands up.  The bassets get more excited.  Finally I say “I think we’re just going to head home for dinner.”  We  get out, cross the street and enjoy a meal at the hot springs.  The end.

It’s always like this.  Every adventure is a story and every day is an adventure.  You can’t make this stuff up.  I’d be missing the boat if I didn’t write it all down.  A writer, an adventurer, an entrepreneur.

“Don’t be afraid of death.  Be afraid of the un-lived life.”

Zach, Mom and I spent an afternoon brew pub hopping in Durham last month.  My 73 year old mom was the designated driver because she doesn’t start drinking until the evening.  Zach and I don’t have those parameters.  Durham is a small town with a lot of people.  There are little hole in the wall businesses everywhere in Durham; all with their own personalities, selling everything from locally crafted beers, to homemade cupcakes, to shops with local artist made jewelry and locally made beeswax candles. Durham is maybe the coolest little town there is and it’s kind of a secret.  Only the truly adventurous will wander into an old garage building and find themselves with the best cup of tea they’ve ever had or a most delicious vegetarian perfectly southern meal placed before them or find themselves in a yoga class.  Eclectic squared would be a good description of Durham.  They also have their fair share of craft breweries.  We’re driving around Durham in mom’s car looking for the next brew pub with the google maps lady giving directions.  “in a quarter mile turn right onto Irwin Street”.

Mom; “did she say left?”

Zach and I “NO!  RIGHT ,RIGHT”.

Mom “@$$%@#”.

Google Map lady speaks next and she is so polite.  She just redirects never indicating that we made a wrong turn.  We drove by the Methodist Church eight times that day . We find the brewery and it doesn’t open until four.  Back to the google maps lady.  We drive by the Methodist Church to the next brewery which is only the facility for making the beer, the tasting room is back on Main Street.  Google map lady again. Go by the Methodist Church.  There’s not a lot of parking in this town, but mom is able to save the day.  Handicap Parking Permit!  Mom’s new knee got her one handicap parking permit.  Doesn’t make sense to me.  She needed the handicap parking permit with her old worn out knee.  They should make her park on the next block with her new bionic knee.  Reminds me of both times Hannah dislocated her shoulder, she went to the emergency room, they put it back in and gave her some great pain drugs.  She didn’t need them now.  Her shoulder’s back where it belongs.  An afternoon of brewery hopping with my mom and son and parking in the handicap parking.  We were also in charge of dinner since Meg, Hannah and Dean were all working.  Google lady, Methodist Church, Whole Foods, Google Lady, Methodist Church, back to Meg and Dean’s.  Oh holy cow I forgot the best part of this story.  Before we left the house I realized that we did not have a key to lock up.  Think, Think.  We locked up the house from the inside.  Opened the garage door, hit the shut garage door button, ran through the garage, ducked the shutting door while at the same time jumping the electronic eye Indiana Jones style.  If the handicap parking permit people hear this story they will revoke mom’s permit.

What did we talk about on our day together?  I know what we did not talk about.  The ending of mom’s life.  Crass?  Yes.  But no one talks about this.  This is the societal elephant in the room. What is our fear? Death or hanging on to life? What is life and where do we draw the line?  That’s our fear and so therefore we do not talk about it.  We should.  We should be discussing what are you going to want when you are not able to make a decision and we have to make it for you.  I just finished the book “Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End”  by Atul Gawande.  Atul Gawande is a doctor who experiences life’s ending and how families deal with the logistics, nursing homes, home health care, and family responsibilities on a regular basis.  In this book he uses his own personal experience with his father’s end of life story.   This is now required reading if you are a follower of Wild About Books.  People do not want to spend thousands and thousands of dollars on ultra fantastic bypass stint open heart surgery so that they can live for two more months recovering and on mind numbing pain drugs.  They want autonomy.  They want to be with family and play cards and have a beer.  This affects everyone.  Please read this book no matter what your age.  We need to address this.  It is a big issue that should be talked about. Who picked this subject on Christmas Day?  Go snowboarding.

Next post is the January book selection; I promise.  Click here to see more Wild About Books Posts.

One day my step brother David was telling a story about having just listened to a show on the radio and about how progressive and liberal the speaker was only to find out he was listening to a republican which totally amazed him that a republican could be speaking in this way.  I spoke up and said; “you see, in the end we all want love and goodness and to get along”.  David’s eyes got big as he exclaimed; “YOU are an optimist!”  Ever since that moment whenever someone ask my political views, religious views, views in general; I proudly state that I am an optimist.  This will help explain the two books (with two completely different perspectives)  that I am reading now.  “Mere Christianity” and “The End of Faith”.

“…..a cold, self-righteous prog who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute.”  C. S. Lewis “Mere Christianity”

“…we live in a country in which a person cannot get elected president if he openly doubts the existence of heaven and hell.”  Sam Harris “The End of Faith”

I switch back and forth reading a little of each trying to understand everyone’s points of view. Sometimes I’ll be reading and forget which one of the books I’m reading.  You wouldn’t think this was possible; but it just goes to prove that we are not as different as we think.  In the end I believe that most people want love and goodness and to all get along.  I’ve often been conflicted at Christmas time.  Why do I carry out the Christmas time traditions when I’m clearly not a religious type person. I actually get angry with society and what Christmas time has turned into.  This can’t be what it was meant to be.

Both of the banks in our town are offering Christmas Loans to help people out during the season of over consumption and spending beyond their means.  How very christian of the banks to help us out like that.  But what is the definition of “christian” when used as an adjective.  Let’s take a moment to look that one up  :” treating other people in a kind and generous way”.  Interesting definition because you can be considered christian without being a christian.  This has started out very cynical, I should back up; although I’m fearful that this entire blog post may be cynical and if you haven’t enjoyed it so far you may need to skip this one as Christmas and it’s commercialism and  societal pressures always turn me into a Grinch.  The very fact that the banks are offering to give out money as long as you sign a paper that you will give it and more back to them does not seem to be treating other people in a  kind and generous way.  It seems a little back handed and hypocritical.  Abusing the definition of christian appears to be the norm.  How has  “treating other people in a kind and generous way” come to mean getting a loan so that you can buy presents, lights, trees, prime rib and giant blow up snow men for the yard in order to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ? How many shopping days until Christmas?  We can shop on Thanksgiving day now.  Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, Cyber Monday, the new chain store in my town will be open on Christmas Day and my favorite the after Christmas sales when you can spend it all on yourself!!!!! Thank God for Christmas to give us a reason to do so much shopping that we need to take out a loan.  We haven’t even discussed the stress, cooking, baking and extra weekend work that we have put upon ourselves to get though this joyful time of the year.  Who’s family will we be with; his? hers? the step people? the in-laws? Feelings are going to be hurt.

Enough of this. Stop stop.  Plenty of people enjoy Christmas time.  They get to visit family and friends.  They get to give them a gift and truly enjoy giving.  They get to decorate  a tree with all of the ornaments collected over the years and decorate the house and host a party.  They get to go Christmas caroling with the neighbors.  They enjoy the hustle and bustle of shopping for presents and the savings on those special savings days.  Hooray for these beautiful people who look forward to all of these things.  I am happy for you.  I am happy that taking out a small loan at Christmas time helps you have a successful and happy Christmas for you and your family.  These traditions are special and historic to people and in the words of Meg Poe; “if it matters to them; then it matters”.  Who am I to knock their special time and how they enjoy it.  Everyone should enjoy the Christmas season in a way that makes it special to them and respect each others way of celebrating.

Can you see it?  Can you see my Grinch heart growing?  I still will not be putting up a tree or lights.   I will not feel guilty for not doing those things.  I will not feel pressure to buy presents just to buy presents.  I will wake up on Christmas morning with my beautiful man, have a cup of tea and hot oatmeal.  We will pack the car and head to the ski hill as is our Christmas tradition.  We sit by the fire in the lodge and dress for the outdoors.  I will lose my beautiful man for 30 minutes or more on Christmas morning at the lodge.  He personally finds every employee at the ski area and wishes them a Merry Christmas.  This is his gift and his special way to spend Christmas.  His gift is a genuine wish for a Merry Christmas as well as a heart felt smile to all of these people working on Christmas day.   He treats people in a kind and generous way and I love him for that.

I hope you all find your special way to have a Merry Christmas and don’t let society or peer pressure dictate that for you.  Find your own way to enjoy the holiday season and don’t forget to treat people in a kind and generous way.

Our next post will be the announcement of the January book selection. Check out Wild About Books website for more post like this one and to take this month’s poll.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Since there is not a Wild About Books December book club selection and November’s book was so good; I believe we should discuss “The Untethered Soul”  one more time.  My favorite chapter is  chapter 15 “The Path of Unconditional Happiness” The secret to living a spiritual life.  It’s amazingly simple really.  Happy or not happy; it’s your choice. That’s it.  You choose to be happy or you choose to be unhappy.  An easy example would be; you added cumin to your muffin mix instead of cinnamon.  Now you’ve wasted your time and money on a dozen nasty tasting muffins, throw the muffin tin and the muffins out the front door and vow never to bake again because you are too stupid to pick up the correct spice.  Unhappy choice.  Or; you rename the muffins “Mexican muffins” and see who will eat them and clearly mark the cumin container so that that doesn’t happen again, lesson learned.  Happy choice.  Even worse is when you allow others to make you unhappy.  You base your happiness conditionally on what other people do; that’s ludicrous.  I’m going to be mad all day because someone cut me off in traffic.  No.  My choice is no; I will not let them control me like that.  I will still be happy.  What about people that let the weather control their happiness? There’s nothing they can do about the weather!  How can you let the weather control your happiness?  There are people that I work with that get upset when the snow comes.  What?? You live in Montana!  Or people that choose to be unhappy because it’s Monday or worse, unhappy because it’s Sunday which means that the next day IS Monday.  They choose to be unhappy.  Clearly they choose to be unhappy if they make a day of the week a happiness indicator.  A difficult example would be when a 24 year old co-worker who you’ve known most of his life wrecks his motorcycle on a beautiful Saturday afternoon and dies.  It’s still your choice to be happy.  You can be sad about the death and grief can grip you when you are not expecting it with uncontrollable emotion.  If you are his mother this grief can grip you at any moment for the rest of your life.  But; and this is a big but and I can not lie, you can choose to be happy.  Happy that he was out doing what he loved on a beautiful Saturday afternoon and you can choose to be happy that his death was a blessing over being mangled and crippled and in pain for the rest of his life and you can be happy that for 24 years his family was able to enjoy having him around. It’s your choice.  It’s your choice and it must be genuine.  You have to believe it.  If you are faking happiness it doesn’t count.

Let’s use an every day example.  How do you stay happy every day at your desk job pushing paper, filling out online forms, nagging people for receipts, etc.  You can attempt to purchase happiness.  A new computer for your desk, a new desk for your office, a new office space with a big window. You can list all of the great things about your job such as the pay, benefits, flexible hours, cell phone, matching retirement plan, etc.  No matter how much you try to make it better, you are still at a desk managing super boring, non challenging, uncreative paperwork.  Did I say you?  I really mean me.  What makes me excited to get up in the morning?  I choose to be happy.  I choose to make off color, inappropriate jokes at work, I choose to send silly emails that make people laugh, I choose to start an administrative book club for some interactive dialog and I have a Happy Sack.  Yes, I have a happy sack.  Before I moved into my new office with a big window, I had a small closet next to the staff bathroom.  In that closet office I had an outside door that took me right to the reader board sign for the school.  So I took it upon myself to be in charge of the reader board sign.  Usually it was upcoming events like home football games or the next school board meeting. One day just for fun I put up: “Never trust an atom, they make up everything”.  Some days I would have students put up the letters for me.  Two boys from the 7th grade came into my office to do the reader board.  I had to introduce myself, because, as the school paper pusher, I don’t interact with the students and therefore don’t know them.  One of the boys eyes got big  and a huge grin came upon his face as he looked at the shelving on my wall and exclaimed in excitement; “YOU have a happy sack”.  Oh jeez, what does he see on my shelf?  What have I brought into my office that could be referred to as a “happy sack”?  I slowly turn, scan the shelves and there it is.  My hacky sack; now and forever known as my happy sack.  It has now moved from the shelves to my desk.

Choosing to be happy is not as easy as it sounds and it is easy to forget that you have that choice.  Believe me when I say that having a happy sack on my desk not only reminds me that I have that choice to choose happiness, it also puts a smile on my face and how can you be unhappy with a smile on your face.

How many psychologist does it  take to change a light bulb?    Just one; but the light bulb has  to want to change.

Lots of newness and  improvements are happing to  our blog.  The biggest one is the name change.  The Wild Women Book Club has now become……Wild About Books, A seriously great reference site for book lovers. If you are a follower of this blog, you get emails when a new post has been published and you don’t get a chance to see the blog, which is now more of a web site with the home page being the blog itself.  Check it out; Wild About Books.

My challenge this week was from my son Zach.  He asked if I ever read about things that I didn’t believe.  For example, I’m a vegan and probably would only read books and cookbooks that promoted the health benefits of being a  vegan.  Or, when I  wanted to read about Mormonism, I chose a book about a person that ended up leaving the Mormon Church because it justified my beliefs about the Mormon religion. The closest I’ve ever come to reading something that might not lean towards my beliefs was when I read “Killing Lincoln”.  My mom had a fit that I would read something by Bill O’Reilley; I didn’t know who Bill O’Reilly was so that one doesn’t even count. The day after Zach challenged me, my dad called, which only happens one to three times a year, and recommended a book “Mere Christianity” by C. S. Lewis. Dad is on his 4th time reading this book.  He must really like this book to recommend it to his unreligious daughter and to be reading it for the fourth time.   I do believe that the universe makes things happen for a reason and that it is important that you are aware of the signs from the universe. Therefore, through the combination of Zach’s challenge and dad’s recommendation I will be reading  “Mere Christianity“.  C. S. Lewis is the author of the popular series The Chronicles of Narnia of which “The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe” is one of the books.  I just started “Mere Christianity”  and haven’t even gotten past the introduction and forward and I am already sucked into the philosophic style of writing.  You have to read each sentence with focus because each sentence is a masterpiece of writing.  Then you have to stop and ponder the sentence.  This is the epitome of a thought provoking book.

In the mean time; I’m reading “Winter of the World”, which I’m really not into and “The Gluten Free Edge”  a book about gluten free athletes and how their performance improves by eliminating gluten from their diet.  I don’t recommend the book but I do recommend trying a gluten free diet. You must be asking yourself; how will she find time to research and find a book for January with all of this extra curricular reading going on in her life?  No worries my fellow followers, I have my staff and the universe working on that research right now.

Wild About Books is about reading good books and sharing how they impact your life.  I’ll guide you in our monthly book selection, but there will also be references to many other books in the weekly posts.

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It’s the first of December.  Don’t forget that the December Book Club Selection is not a book but an assignment.  Catch up on some reading, read something light and easy, visit friends and family.  We will have a new book selection for January.  I’m enjoying a Thanksgiving vacation with my family in North Carolina.  Yesterday I took Zach and Hannah to church which, if you don’t know us, is a new and exciting adventure. We’ve never been into sitting, being inside, group singing, praying, group reading, or sinning.  All of these things seem to be synonymous to church goers.  This is merely a personal observation.  Our adventurous spirits did enjoy this outing; plus we got to see my dad sing and it was his church. We got a bit lost when the group would chant something that they all seemed to know or when they would start singing from a book that we found in a book holder in front of us.  God  spoke to them about what they were going to sing and they all knew which page to be on .  No; that’s not it.  You had to follow along in the program which was your cheat sheet for the Hymnal and the Bible. The minister was very good, kept our attention, and had a nice speaking voice.  His sermon was about Luke.  But in reality Luke was never mentioned.  This was a story about Zach and Elizabeth.  Elizabeth was a failure because she was barren and now a burden to Zach who had to feed her.  It was like she was a lame horse and should be shot.  I’m pretty sure that was not the lesson to the story.  I don’t want to give the plot away because that is never the intention at Wild Women Book Club.  Zach went into this secret room because he was a higher up priest. It was such a holy room that only one person at a time could go in and they tied a rope to his leg in case he died in there and they had to drag him out.  A big, ugly, scary angel came to visit him in the secret room. ( This is all starting to sound Mormon to me, but we were in a Presbyterian Church. ) Luckily for Elizabeth, the angel told Zach that Elizabeth would be done with her suffering and humiliation of being barren and he would make sure that she would conceive even though she was old,which was also   going to happen to  the unmarried teenager Mary. And Zach would now be mute.  What?….was Zach saying things to Elizabeth that were not romantic “hey Liz, that robe makes your ass look fat”. Maybe if he kept his mouth shut she would have a better chance of conceiving?  The end.  The minister kept mine and Zach’s attention and we were both feeling pretty bad about Elizabeth’s self worth and suppression as a woman in this story.  We lost Hannah right off the bat.  She chose to read the Bible starting with page one, just like you would do with most books.  I believe her words were  “…this is some scary, intimidating shit…”.  The rest of our day was much dialog about our church adventure, religion, other religions and god.  Is God a thing to fear or a loving, accepting entity? Do we worship Jesus or was he meant to be an example to follow?  Both Zach and Hannah said they would like to read the Bible; but maybe a children’s version.

Going to add a gallery of pictures for you.

This is my church in Montana:

I am always continuing my education and, I am happy to announce that I am taking an online class called “Creating WordPress Websites”.  You may notice some exciting changes in our blog as I move along in this class and next I will take “Creating WordPress Websites II” and then we’ll really get crazy!  That’s what I’m reading now.  Two lessons a week using this blog as a working model and you get to enjoy the result.  You might see some weird pages added and wonder “what the heck is she doing”.  It won’t be the first or the last time you have those thoughts about me.  The online class I’m taking is through a web site called Ed2Go.  They offer many classes for enriching your life and learning some cool stuff.  This is my first one and I do like it but I don’t think I’ll give it a complete review until I’ve finished the class and taken a few more.  I do recommend that you check it out and see all of the classes that they have to offer.  This one I’m taking now is 6 weeks long and cost $95.  I’m going to try to add a photo now:

A picture of a homemade watermelon, basil, vodka popsicle.  I call them cock-sicles.

Let’s attach a document for you to read; since you like reading so much.  This is one of my most favorite things I’ve ever read.  Thank you Hannah for sharing it with me:  Exposed by my Children

Now I’m going to try a video; this is a good one too you should check it out; this isn’t just for homework people.  I’m giving you some good things.  You’ll be making eggnog cock-sicles for Christmas and flaunting that beautiful body; no doubt.