Two Strikes

Well, as I feared and/or predicted, my dive into super-busyness did interrupt the blogging streak.

I’ll admit, I was kind of impressed with myself for getting Friday’s post up from the hotel room after a 4.5 hour drive from Boston to NYC. (Plus the last-minute housing crisis we had to negotiate, but that’s a story for another day.) But then, after a busy Saturday out-and-about, we decided to do something a little different and go out on the town!

Admittedly, it was to a game bar, so our #nerdcore rep remains intact. Still, after several hours of bar food, games and G&Ts, I just sort of forgot about blogging until we went lights out at around 11:30.*

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Over the Hill and In the Next Valley

I had my annual eye check-up yesterday. The annual eye check-up that I hadn’t gotten round to doing for 24 months or so. (I’m not sure whether the best 2-word explanation for that would be: Momma lazy or Momma workaholic.)

Anyhow, this appointment marked a bit of a sea change from previous ones. I walked into my two prior appointments saying much the same thing: “You’re gonna tell me I need bifocals, but I don’t want ’em on account of vanity.”*

This year, my attitude was different: “It’s finally time for me to get those progressives.”

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Taking this Show on the Road

The next ten days or so are going to be a true acid test for this new “write every day” pledge. We’ve got a quick weekend trip to see the Harry Potter Exhibit in NYC, and then the exact next day after getting home from that, I’m off for a six-day business trip.*

Ages ago, when I had a long vacation planned, I wrote a short series of things to auto-post while I was abroad. (Admittedly, the execution of that idea was a touch shaky, but hey: points for trying?) I’m sure the almost-daily ritual of me whining about not having a surplus of blogging ideas will give you a solid read on the current situation.

No, Virginia, I do not have any extra posts in the bank.

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Caveat Emptor: The Secret Life of an American Art Forger by Ken Perenyi

This is another one of those impulse “daily deal” purchases. With advertising copy like this—

The astonishing true story of America’s most accomplished art forger: a kid from New Jersey who became a master, fooling experts and eluding the FBI for thirty years.

—a New Jersey connection*, and a decent string of 4- and 5-star Amazon reviews, what’s not to like?

More than I expected, actually

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From the Hat: When I was a Kid

I hope that one of these days I will have ideas for writing topics. Maybe it’s rose-colored hindsight, but my recollection of other stretches where I was blogging is that I had so many more subjects than I had the bandwidth to address.

And now here I am with my shiny “write every day in 2019” pledge, and the topic well has run dry. Oy vey.

So, I guess it’s back to the “hat box” I go.

I remember when I was a kid….

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Belated Book Recs: MLK 2019

I’ve been wrestling with the notion of weighing in on what I am sarcastically calling the “Covington Catholic clusterfuck,” but I really don’t have any hot take on it that isn’t actively plagiarizing other people’s intellectual labor and insights. Here’s a few links and random thoughts:

  • On why that unedited video doesn’t actually exonerate these teenage racists: WokeSloth and Twitter.
  • On the general foolishness of chanting “build that wall” at someone whose ancestors were here LONG before yours.*
  • And here’s an extra thought (freely lifted from a friend FB page): would this whole sorry confrontation have been de-escalated earlier if there had been been more NPS Rangers on hand, rather than them being so short-staffed on account of the shut-down?

And that’s all I care to say about that tonight.

So, in lieu of socio-cultural commentary, what focus am I going to use for an MLK Day post?

Books, of course.

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Hospital Sketches by Louisa May Alcott

One might guess that I’m feeling better today than yesterday, being as I have been able to read–as indicated by another category completion on the year’s reading tally. That is, indeed, the case. Unlike yesterday’s achiness, it no longer hurts to be up and around. However, I am still finding myself to get tired out very easily.

All of which is to say: lucky for me this is such a wee slip of a book. Both for my capacity to finish reading it today, and for my odds of writing a book review tonight.

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Rambling (Wo)man

I assume it’s snowing out there by now. I can’t confirm with my own reportage, because I’ve spent most of the day in bed. Yes, that Creeping Crud came roaring in on all cylinders overnight, so my day has mostly been about sleeping, hydration, a bit of iPad gaming, trying to read and not having the clear-headedness for that, medication, more hydration, and yes, more sleeping.

Not exactly the kind of day brimming with writing material. But I don’t want to drag my achy, germ-ridden body across the house to get the “box o’ writing prompts,” either.

So what’s a gal to do?

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Waiting for Harper

And so it begins. 

Winter has lots of possible beginnings: cultural (Monday after Thanksgiving), calendrical (December 1st), astrological (Winter Solstice), what-have-you. But in my experience as a newbie-Bostonian, I’m pretty sure that the winter storm season doesn’t begin until right about now. There have been exceptions to this, of course: a couple of our years here have had one biggish snowfall in December. But in most years, the first big snow dump seems to happen somewhere around mid-January or MLK day. And even in those years that had a single snowstorm in December, the rotating lineup of winter storms didn’t start until then.

And, right on time, Winter Storm Harper is scheduled to arrive tomorrow evening.

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Hygge: The Danish Art of Happiness by Marie Turell Soderberg

  • PopSugar #44: read a book during the season it’s set in

I’m trying to recall when I first learned of the concept of hygge. A couple years ago, I guess. I don’t remember the exact circumstances–it was on the Internet, obviously, but I can’t be more specific than that. Some item somewhere. A link to Facebook? A book review of The Year of Living Danishly?  Gaia knows.

What I do recall is the deep sense of recognition, that aha! moment, when I saw the term and its definition. Hygge–which, roughly speaking, unpacks to an amalgamation of coziness, contentment, enjoyment of life’s simple pleasures–is about the most natural habitat for this homebody duck as I could possibly imagine.

I think I learned the concept a tiny bit ahead of the big hygge craze in 2016-2017, but I did take the opportunity that craze provided to get a couple books about hygge into my home library. (Which, in typical fashion, I never got around to reading.)

But Mr. Mezzo and I have been intentionally doing things this winter to “get our hygge on,” so when I saw this particular category on the PopSugar list, I knew exactly what I wanted to choose for my “season.” And so I pulled out the prettiest of my hygge books and put it on my “challenge shelf.”

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