Somehow January has already come and quickly gone. Here are the highlights:
The biggest news is that we lost our Project Manager for our house build. Apparently, he had not been a detail person and had let many things slide, mostly on other homes. I thought he was excellent, but I’m not the one in charge. I’m told we can look forward to faster progress now, so we’ll see. It is a setback in my eyes and a shock, but I’m meeting with the builder this morning to impart any unimplemented plans that the PM knew about but they did not.
It’s been slow-going lately and I’m a little bit down about it, but I know that once a few key things happen soon, we’ll be all forward motion. I’m busy with paint selections, furniture planning, and organizing our possessions, so I’ve been trying to ignore the rest.
We came home from New York City to discover that one of our cats had tipped over their water bowl and it had warped many of the wood boards in our breakfast area. So we are replacing and staining them at great expense. We had to spend a night at a hotel because of the fumes.
Also in feline news, our two cats took apart and ate most of a pill that I accidentally left on the bathroom counter. Since we didn’t know how much they ingested, my daughter and I ended up at an emergency clinic at midnight on a Saturday night. One ended up having tremors and definitely needed to be there. Another expense. Grrr.
Sweet Girl is selling Girl Scout cookies rather reluctantly. From her actions and my own frustrations with being a troop leader, I think this may be our last year. She wants to do well, but she also doesn’t like speaking up and asking people if they want to buy cookies.
I’m on the search for house hardware (door hinges, deadbolts, cabinet pulls, house numbers, vent covers, towel hooks, etc.) and paint selections for all walls and cabinetry. It’s been fun.
I’ve been “KonMari-ing” my house, trying to pare down possessions. In our new home, I know exactly how much space we have and where each item will go, so I know we don’t have room for extra bags and craft supplies and every last extension cord. In other type-A-ness, I have a spreadsheet of the individual areas in my house, broken down into manageable sections, and I’m crossing off each cabinet as I go. I’ve given away, donated, and even sold so much already that I’m starting to see (and feel) a difference.
OK on to the books. I haven’t read much this month because of all the time spent decluttering. Oh and I discovered The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and have been binge-watching that. 🙂 Netflix, I cannot wait 10 months for Season 3.
The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey
Bedridden, cut off from the most basic aspects of life, Bailey observes a wild snail that a friend brings her from a nearby forest. She discovers a sense of wonder and patience and learns much about her own place in the world. A fascinating story about a snail’s anatomy, decision making process, movement, and amazing natural defenses.
“Survival often depends on a specific focus: a relationship, a belief, or a hope balanced on the edge of possibility. Or something more ephemeral: the way the sun passes through the hard, seemingly impenetrable glass of a window and warms the blanket, or how the wind, invisible but for its wake, is so loud one can hear it through the insulated walls of a house.”
How to Walk Away: A Novel by Katherine Center
Entirely predictable but great nonetheless. A girl who seems to have it all is suddenly in an airplane crash and loses her ability to walk. Insert self-discovery, rude but gorgeous physical therapist, some family dynamics, and you have the typical novel. Quick and fun read.
“If you’d asked me before the crash, I’d have told you that feelings were like blocks of primary colors: You felt blue for a while, then yellow, then red. But now I saw the emotional landscape quite differently—more like the pointillism of a Seurat painting: each color made up of many other colors. Look closely, and it’s dots. Stand back, and it’s an afternoon on the lake—all the colors relying on each other for texture and meaning.”
We Are All Made of Stars: A Novel by Rowan Coleman
A nurse dealing with personal grief works in a hospice and interacts with the patients, often writing down their final thoughts and letters of confession. I liked how Coleman used multiple characters to weave together a story of their heartbreak and of celebrating life.
“Your psychic is your poet. Both when we read poetry and when our future selves are read to us, we want to feel less alone, and we want to see the world and our lives from a new point of view. When we get even one of those rich pleasures from a poem and its poet, it’s more than enough. But we hold our psychics to a different standard. We expect more. We expect proof.”
White Sands: Experiences From the Outside World by Geoff Dyer
Dyer travels to several exotic locales in this memoir and tells of his experience with a sense of place, purpose, and memory. I may never walk in his steps in Svalbard or in a rooftop bar in China, but his sense of intellectual curiosity, exploration, and his efforts to uncover a place’s meaning are the same as mine. Often funny, sometimes confusing, this book is a journey unto itself.
Future Perfect: A Skeptic’s Search for an Honest Mystic by Victoria Loustalot
I thought this one was a very compelling look into the modern world of psychics, astrologers, and shamans. Full of honest skepticism and curiosity, Loustalot uses her own experiences to test the information they give her. It’s a book about the choices we make and how we decide to live our lives. I enjoyed her point of view and the personal nature of this book.
“I am mourning, I am mourning for the life I once had. The exciting job that made a difference, that brought people back from the brink of death, the strong, handsome, brave husband who adored me. I am grieving for the girl who always knew what she wanted and knew how to be alive in this terrifying world. That girl is gone. She is lying in pieces somewhere and I miss her. I miss her and I want her back.”
