My steadfast readers will remember that almost a year ago I posted a book review I had written for LibraryThing Early Reviewers. I never understood how in the world that particular book was selected for me as there are just so many good books out there - and that wasn't one of them. Neither is this book, but, as promised, here is my review of it.
Any Given Doomsday by Lori Handeland
I wanted to like this book. I really did. And I think it started out well. I quite enjoyed the early chapters of the book set in Milwaukee. A fresh voice, a fresh locale, what's not to like? I didn't even mind the multiple types of supernatural beings thrown at me with each turn of the page. “Charmed” is one of my guilty pleasures, after all.
The author began increasingly to lose me, however, with each of her successive sex scenes. I understand this kind of soft-core porn has been de rigueur in paperback romance novels for a long time, but I don’t read them. It’s not that I’m a prude – I’m just not interested. When I realized that the transfer of some types of supernatural power could only happen during hot sex, that just seemed too silly for words to me. Pretty quickly the plot became a vehicle to get from one sexual encounter to the next. Bor-ing.
I understand this is the first book in a new series for this author, and I do appreciate getting in on the ground floor with the first book in a series. However, I prefer to see each book end with a strong resolution, which was definitely lacking here. I don’t think this book can stand alone, and that is a drawback for me, since I won't be reading anything else by this author.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Ben!
Today is Ben's birthday. Please wish him a happy birthday here or on one of his blogs.
(You probably won't be surprised to hear that he is getting something hand-knit from me - and I had better get back to it!)
(You probably won't be surprised to hear that he is getting something hand-knit from me - and I had better get back to it!)
Monday, September 15, 2008
I don't like Ike
I live in Northeast Ohio. I don't love living here. I really want to live on the east coast. Right on the east coast. Like I could see the ocean out my windows and stroll to the beach whenever I so desired. Since we can't afford to live on the beach, however, I have always comforted myself with the idea that at least we're safe when hurricane season comes around - until last night, that is.
Yesterday was a funny day, weatherwise. Soupy and hot in the morning gave way to sunny and windy (an odd combination) in the early afternoon. Although rain was predicted, we never really had any. Ben and I watched football games on and off throughout the day. I was mostly puzzling out a new knitting pattern, and Ben wandered in and out, as he does. We were really waiting for the Browns-Steelers game to start at 8:00 p.m. I was excited at the idea of watching the game on Sunday Night Football, but, as it turned out, we didn't see a minute of the game.
The wind had really picked up in the early evening, and we could hear small branches from the big, old oak trees surrounding our house hitting the roof and deck. The strong winds made the dogs nervous, and Lucie was either parked on someone's lap or hiding under the coffee table. I was watching the last seconds of the San Diego-Denver game, hoping the Chargers could pull off a last-minute miracle (y'all know how I feel about the Broncos) when the power went out. And flickered and went out. And flickered and went out. And stayed out. And that was pretty much it.
Since it was just past 7:30 it wasn't totally dark out yet, but we could see it soon would be. Ben rounded up candles from around the house and put them on the mantelpiece in front of the mirror, where their light was reflected. I lit candles in the kitchen and bathroom, in case we needed to make forays into those parts of the house. Most importantly, Ben found a transistor radio with batteries that still worked so that we could listen to the football game until the power came back on. That's what I was thinking, anyway. I think Ben knew otherwise.
I called the Ohio Edison hotline around 9:00, but the hours continued to pass with no electricity. We listened to the entire football game on the radio, which was o.k., except for the fact that we had to listen to the incredibly annoying commercials. Did you know that radio commercials are even more annoying than the ones on t.v.? I bet you didn't think that was possible.
We had a myriad of concerns. Of course we had been grocery-shopping earlier in the day, and were concerned about the refrigerator full of food that was gradually warming up. Neither one of us knew how widespread the outage was, and didn't know if we would be expected at work today. We had our cell phones, but for how long? If we couldn't recharge them, we couldn't use them. Fortunately, the temperature had dropped as the hurricane blew in, and we were able to open the windows to the cool, fresh air as the evening progressed with no sign of power being restored.
I had a flashlight and my cell phone on the night stand when I went to bed, and I tried to ignore the dozens of little worries swirling through my mind, in hopes that I could fall asleep. I slept fitfully for a couple of hours, and was actually awake when the power came back on around 2:00 a.m. Only a couple of lights were on in the house, and when the air conditioning and my ceiling fan kicked in, I was able to fall soundly asleep for the rest of the night. We had been without power for about six and a half hours.
Okay, I know I am lucky compared to the people living in Southeast Texas, but that is exactly my point. I don't live on the coast, and one of the few benefits of that is not having to worry about hurricanes and the woes associated with them. Until now.
Yesterday was a funny day, weatherwise. Soupy and hot in the morning gave way to sunny and windy (an odd combination) in the early afternoon. Although rain was predicted, we never really had any. Ben and I watched football games on and off throughout the day. I was mostly puzzling out a new knitting pattern, and Ben wandered in and out, as he does. We were really waiting for the Browns-Steelers game to start at 8:00 p.m. I was excited at the idea of watching the game on Sunday Night Football, but, as it turned out, we didn't see a minute of the game.
The wind had really picked up in the early evening, and we could hear small branches from the big, old oak trees surrounding our house hitting the roof and deck. The strong winds made the dogs nervous, and Lucie was either parked on someone's lap or hiding under the coffee table. I was watching the last seconds of the San Diego-Denver game, hoping the Chargers could pull off a last-minute miracle (y'all know how I feel about the Broncos) when the power went out. And flickered and went out. And flickered and went out. And stayed out. And that was pretty much it.
Since it was just past 7:30 it wasn't totally dark out yet, but we could see it soon would be. Ben rounded up candles from around the house and put them on the mantelpiece in front of the mirror, where their light was reflected. I lit candles in the kitchen and bathroom, in case we needed to make forays into those parts of the house. Most importantly, Ben found a transistor radio with batteries that still worked so that we could listen to the football game until the power came back on. That's what I was thinking, anyway. I think Ben knew otherwise.
I called the Ohio Edison hotline around 9:00, but the hours continued to pass with no electricity. We listened to the entire football game on the radio, which was o.k., except for the fact that we had to listen to the incredibly annoying commercials. Did you know that radio commercials are even more annoying than the ones on t.v.? I bet you didn't think that was possible.
We had a myriad of concerns. Of course we had been grocery-shopping earlier in the day, and were concerned about the refrigerator full of food that was gradually warming up. Neither one of us knew how widespread the outage was, and didn't know if we would be expected at work today. We had our cell phones, but for how long? If we couldn't recharge them, we couldn't use them. Fortunately, the temperature had dropped as the hurricane blew in, and we were able to open the windows to the cool, fresh air as the evening progressed with no sign of power being restored.
I had a flashlight and my cell phone on the night stand when I went to bed, and I tried to ignore the dozens of little worries swirling through my mind, in hopes that I could fall asleep. I slept fitfully for a couple of hours, and was actually awake when the power came back on around 2:00 a.m. Only a couple of lights were on in the house, and when the air conditioning and my ceiling fan kicked in, I was able to fall soundly asleep for the rest of the night. We had been without power for about six and a half hours.
Okay, I know I am lucky compared to the people living in Southeast Texas, but that is exactly my point. I don't live on the coast, and one of the few benefits of that is not having to worry about hurricanes and the woes associated with them. Until now.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Kristy!
Today is Kristy's birthday! Please join me in wishing her a good one!
(ps-s-st... and thanks so much for the awesome weekend, Kristy and Tom!)
(ps-s-st... and thanks so much for the awesome weekend, Kristy and Tom!)
Friday, August 15, 2008
day tripping
I went to see my dad yesterday. I have done a pretty good job of seeing him every month this year. It's a little trickier in the summer because he doesn't use air conditioning and I can't stand the heat. It has been cooler than usual this year, however, and yesterday was a good day to visit him. I drove through a thunderstorm on the turnpike (always exciting) but other than that, my trip was uneventful.
I really enjoy my visits with him, and never know what new insights I will come away with. Yesterday, he said to me, "You had something I never had - an electric train. It was under the Christmas tree for you nine days before you were born. Did you know that?" Actually, I didn't. My electric train is part of my earliest memories, it's true, but I never knew that he bought it for me (his first child) before I was born. It makes sense, though. I have seen photos of my mother that Christmas - hugely pregnant with the child (me!) that would be born right after the new year on January 3rd. My parents certainly didn't know whether I would be a boy or a girl, but I have a sense that my dad didn't care. His first child would have an electric train.
I do remember riding the Rapid to Cleveland with my dad when I was very young to go to a train shop somewhere downtown. I have a sense that it was a small shop - long and narrow with a high ceiling, but that could just be a child's perception. I don't remember anymore what we bought there. Maybe it was the automated box car with the conductor who kicked boxes out onto the platform. Maybe it was just some more track. My dad must have taken a child's delight in the small, crowded shop and everything that was in it. He was so young then - not yet 26 when I was born.
As an odd aside, I received my first electrical shock as a small child when my dad allowed me to plug the transformer into the wall socket. He didn't realize that my tiny fingers were touching the metal prongs of the plug. I was more surprised than hurt, and learned a life lesson I have never forgotten.
I have really struggled in recent years with the concept of passing time and with memories of places (and people) that no longer exist. For some reason that I don't really understand, spending time with my dad makes me feel better about all that. It's a win-win situation.
I really enjoy my visits with him, and never know what new insights I will come away with. Yesterday, he said to me, "You had something I never had - an electric train. It was under the Christmas tree for you nine days before you were born. Did you know that?" Actually, I didn't. My electric train is part of my earliest memories, it's true, but I never knew that he bought it for me (his first child) before I was born. It makes sense, though. I have seen photos of my mother that Christmas - hugely pregnant with the child (me!) that would be born right after the new year on January 3rd. My parents certainly didn't know whether I would be a boy or a girl, but I have a sense that my dad didn't care. His first child would have an electric train.
I do remember riding the Rapid to Cleveland with my dad when I was very young to go to a train shop somewhere downtown. I have a sense that it was a small shop - long and narrow with a high ceiling, but that could just be a child's perception. I don't remember anymore what we bought there. Maybe it was the automated box car with the conductor who kicked boxes out onto the platform. Maybe it was just some more track. My dad must have taken a child's delight in the small, crowded shop and everything that was in it. He was so young then - not yet 26 when I was born.
As an odd aside, I received my first electrical shock as a small child when my dad allowed me to plug the transformer into the wall socket. He didn't realize that my tiny fingers were touching the metal prongs of the plug. I was more surprised than hurt, and learned a life lesson I have never forgotten.
I have really struggled in recent years with the concept of passing time and with memories of places (and people) that no longer exist. For some reason that I don't really understand, spending time with my dad makes me feel better about all that. It's a win-win situation.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Andrew!
Today is Andrew's last birthday in his 20's. Yeah, he's that old. Please join me in wishing him a Happy Birthday - while he's still young enough to enjoy it.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
what was that?
That was a little black dog named Muffin. When the days were hot, Muffin's family all went to the country. We're off to the country, they said, and you're going, too, Muffin.
Thus begins a record I must have listened to a thousand times when I was a kid. Muffin's family loads him in a "travel box" where he can't see outside, but he can hear. The rest of the record (both sides of a small 78) is a series of sounds, followed by the narrator's voice asking, "What was that?" over and over and over again.
My brother gave me a stack of old records some years ago, and Muffin in the Country, as it is called, was among them. I was delighted to have it, although the record doesn't play all that well anymore, since my brothers once tried (successfully, I must admit) to play it with a straight pin as they manually spun the turntable. We did mange to listen to it, however, and more importantly, Ben taped it so that Tom and Julie could listen to it. It is almost as familiar to them as it is to me; so much so that for a while "Muffin" was in the running as a name for Rufus, because he is a little black dog, after all.
Last month, when Ben and I were at the flea market in Hartville, I was looking at a booth full of old chilren's books when I found a paperback called The Noisy Book by Margaret Wise Brown, an author best known for writing the children's classic, Goodnight Moon. I picked it up because I loved the graphic style of the cover. It was a re-print of a book first printed in 1939, and it seemed very 30's-bustling-big-city to me.
Imagine my delight when it turned out to be a book about a little black dog named Muffin! The format was very similar to my beloved record. Poor Muffin got a cinder in his eye, and when his family took him to the vet, a bandage was put over his eyes until he was healed. So, once again, Muffin couldn't see, but Muffin could hear - all the sounds of the big city, as it turned out.
I started sifting through the stacks of books to see if I could find, possibly, Muffin in the Country, as well. And I did, under the title, Country Noisy Book. I also found an indoor noisy book and a winter noisy book. I think I bought all four of them for two dollars.
What a find! Are these books worth more than I paid for them? They are not. But how delighted I am to have them anyway.
Thus begins a record I must have listened to a thousand times when I was a kid. Muffin's family loads him in a "travel box" where he can't see outside, but he can hear. The rest of the record (both sides of a small 78) is a series of sounds, followed by the narrator's voice asking, "What was that?" over and over and over again.
My brother gave me a stack of old records some years ago, and Muffin in the Country, as it is called, was among them. I was delighted to have it, although the record doesn't play all that well anymore, since my brothers once tried (successfully, I must admit) to play it with a straight pin as they manually spun the turntable. We did mange to listen to it, however, and more importantly, Ben taped it so that Tom and Julie could listen to it. It is almost as familiar to them as it is to me; so much so that for a while "Muffin" was in the running as a name for Rufus, because he is a little black dog, after all.
Last month, when Ben and I were at the flea market in Hartville, I was looking at a booth full of old chilren's books when I found a paperback called The Noisy Book by Margaret Wise Brown, an author best known for writing the children's classic, Goodnight Moon. I picked it up because I loved the graphic style of the cover. It was a re-print of a book first printed in 1939, and it seemed very 30's-bustling-big-city to me.
Imagine my delight when it turned out to be a book about a little black dog named Muffin! The format was very similar to my beloved record. Poor Muffin got a cinder in his eye, and when his family took him to the vet, a bandage was put over his eyes until he was healed. So, once again, Muffin couldn't see, but Muffin could hear - all the sounds of the big city, as it turned out.
I started sifting through the stacks of books to see if I could find, possibly, Muffin in the Country, as well. And I did, under the title, Country Noisy Book. I also found an indoor noisy book and a winter noisy book. I think I bought all four of them for two dollars.
What a find! Are these books worth more than I paid for them? They are not. But how delighted I am to have them anyway.
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