So many books and what better time to leisurely soak up the sun, relax with a cool drink and indulge in some great reads! This is my current list to start you off.
Blood Orange Brewing is another fun read by Laura Childs, who also does the Scrapbooking Mysteries and the Cackleberry Mysteries. Theodosia Browning, owner of Charleston's "Indigo Tea Shop" is once again embroiled in her seventh tea shop murder mystery--this time, the untimely demise of beloved politico and retired CEO, Duke Wilkes. At a benefit concert for the restoration of an 18th century mansion, Delaine Dish dramatically flings open the parlour doors to a lavish high tea, only to expose Duke's crumbled body for all of Charleston's well-heeled society to see. Supported by her loyal friends and Duke's widow, Theodosia's hunch that all is not as it seems, impels her to charge forth and prove her theory. Armed with her curiosity, exotic teas and Haley's decadent offerings from her kitchen, Theo discovers shady politics and personal payback. Laura Childs knows how to draw her Readers in and blows their minds with her fun and delicious cosies, eventually reaching its dangerous and deadly conclusion. The recipes included at the end of the book are a tasty bonus. And yes, "Blood Orange" really is a special tea.
I've always had a fondness for historical novels that are written well and Philippa Gregory's The White Princess does not disappoint. This is a well-researched story that captures the imagination, told in the voice of Elizabeth of York, the reluctant bride of Henry VII and future mother of Henry VIII. Ms. Gregory's recounting of the beginning of the Tudor lineage is a fascinating tale of Henry VII's bloody seizure of the English throne from King Richard of York. Henry's reliance on his mother and uncle's advice plus his strong distrust of anyone supporting the conquered York king, feeds his insecurities. It doesn't help his self- confidence that his reluctant bride is a York princess, whose family had always had strong support from both nobles and commoners. Even when Elizabeth produces the first Tudor heir, Arthur and later his brother, Henry--King Henry VII never stops worrying if his throne is secure for his sons. Cleverly woven into "The White Princess" is perhaps an answer o whatever happened to Elizabeth's little brothers, Prince Edward, heir to the York throne and his little brother, Prince Richard, who both disappeared from the Tower of London. There have been York "Pretenders" popping up here and there, but none with the Royal charm and likeable manners of the one pretending to be the missing Prince Richard. This "Pretender" may be the real-deal as he gathers strong support from other European royal families and captures the loyal support of the commoners who all see him as their rightful king. "The White Princess" is a historical novel that will pull you into England's glorious pageantry, uncertainties and barbaric justice.
Nora Roberts, using her J.D. Robb alias when writing her "In Death" series, has crafted another entertaining tale involving Lieutenant Eve Dallas, her billionaire husband, Roarke and her loyal partner, Detective Peabody. In her latest, Concealed in Death, Roarke's latest multimillion dollars project begins with tearing down a derelict building to rebuild a safe haven for children who end up on the streets of New York, trying to survive and for those others, who are mistreated or neglected by a system meant to protect them. Instead, behind a demolished wall, Roarke discovers the burial place for two young victims. When Eve and her Homicide team process the site, the body count jumps to twelve. "Concealed in Death" gives an insight to the plight of runaways and homeless kids who place their trust in the wrong person. This tale also introduces the newest member of the team, Dr. Garnet DeWinter, forensic anthropologist, who will challenge Eve on cases that matter to her--and like Eve--all her cases do. This is an entertaining and thought provoking murder mystery that also demonstrates how true love can take you places you never thought possible. Grab a copy and read for yourself.
The Benefactor is a gritty crime story written by Don Easton, a former RCMP undercover operative who knows the criminal world extremely well. His latest novel begins with the apparent hit-and-run death of a 75 year old woman until a closer look at the car links it to an organized Asian crime syndicate. Undercover operatives, Jack Taggart and his partner, Laura Secord, once again dives into the dark and dirty Vancouver underworld. This time they discover how extensively Chinese spies have sunk their tentacles in uncovering both industrial secrets as well as the highly complex world of computer hacking into highly classified government and military files. Easton's books and his scenarios are lifted right out of today's headlines. He definitely knows his topics and clearly has lived through some of the hair-raising adventures he writes about. For exciting escapism and a darn good read, grab Easton's "The Benefactor" published by Dundurn Publishers.
So you think you can write a better tale? If you're a wannabe "writer,"--this book, The Kick-Ass Writer by Chuck Wendig, will either kick-start you into seriously tackling your writing project and finishing it--whether it's a short-short, short story, novella or novel. Chuck covers all the reasons and excuses you give yourself on why you're still unpublished. He hits the truths hard and his staccato-style of spitting out nuggets of information, honed from years of experience, ensures you're not reading reams of useless words. Chuck's straight-forward and logical advice gets you off your duff and writing again. If you're looking for one book on how to make it as a writer, get this one. "The Kick-Ass Writer" by Chuck Wendig gives it to you straight.
This is my Summer Reading List so far. As I mentioned earlier, so many books and the Summer's not long enough!
Wednesday, 14 May 2014
Saturday, 15 March 2014
What am I Reading?
Every now and then, I like to comment on various books I've recently enjoyed. Victoria, BC is a city of writers, book stores, coffee bars and chocolatiers. What more can a dedicated reader/writer ask for?
I've never read Ben Coes, but Eye for an Eye has made me a convert. Ben does a series featuring Dewey Andreas, former Army Ranger and Delta Force, who is on a personal mission of revenge. Even if Dewey cuts himself loose and goes rogue, his mission is unalterable. The political dramas, world intrigues and a very real scenario of China's possible mega-financial aid to the Americans, makes this an exciting book. Eye for an Eye is fast-paced and satisfied my blood-thirsty penchant for a great action story. Due to be released in June 2014, Coes' newest Dewey Andreas, Independence Day will definitely have me in line when it hits the bookstores. If you can't wait his e-books are available on both www.amazon.ca and www.amazon.com .
I've just finished devouring a crime-mystery, A Hemorrhaging of Souls, written by Canadian crime-writer, dedicated hockey player and fellow chocoholic, Nicola Furlong, who can be found at www.nicolafurlong.com I love reading mysteries, thrillers, adventures, historical-romances,--anything that grabs my eyeballs from the first page and holds it to the last. A Hemorrhaging of Souls does this admirably.
Set in an all-girls' Catholic school, someone has been killing its young students. Tempest Ivory, child psychologist and gifted soprano, desperately searches for answers as to who and why. Cleverly woven into the story is the turbulent family relations between Patrick Painter, homicide detective in charge of of the case and his father, Leonard, a retired cop. Tempest's traumatic childhood slowly emerges with the discovery of a personal connection to the Catholic school. With the opera, Rigoletto, playing in the background, A Hemorrhaging of Souls races to an astonishing, yet satisfying conclusion of the murders at the private all-girls' school.
I consider this a 'quick-read' as the story really moves along. You've got the clues, you've got the suspects, but who dunnit? Get your copy at www.amazon.com and find out for yourself.
The blend between truth and fiction can become indistinguishable when diving into a James Rollin story. Years ago, I was hooked with Subterranean followed by at least a dozen more stories, falling from Rollin's talented pen. With each book, the readers are taken on an international adventure, spiced with a dollop of supernatural and always with a good historical/archeological background. Co-authored with Rebecca Cantrell, Rollin's latest book, Innocent Blood carries on the Order of the Sanguines series, began in Blood Gospel. I'm not sure if I totally liked this book as it continues to raise some perplexing questions on the accepted teachings of the Holy Bible. Combined with science and mystical beliefs, Rollins and Cantrell have crafted a believable and plausible story. I found this is not a book to race through as there are several subplots happening--and as a reader, you don't want to miss out on any nuances. All of it eventually converges to a climax that will definitely lead to another book in the Order of the Sanguines series.
After reading Innocent Blood, I wanted something light and funny. Relish, My Life in the Kitchen, is a fun read by Lucy Knisley. Lucy's graphic memoirs, with its cherished family recipes is a humorous romp through her childhood and growing-up years with a chef Mom and a gourmand Dad. Relish is a fast and entertaining read as Lucy uses her art to tell the story. Filled with a peek at her foodie childhood and coming-of-age, this very entertaining book also includes some fail-proof, mouth-watering recipes that are easy to follow. Relish is Lucy's second book and makes a perfect gift for any foodie! It is a book easily dipped into again and again. Relish rates a place on my bookshelf--beside my other well-thumbed cookbooks!
James Patterson is a prolific writer who creates several series. His Alex Cross books are always thrilling and suspenseful. Double Cross was written in 2007, but I finally got hold of a copy and thoroughly enjoyed diving into it. Double Cross has not one, but two psychopathic killers, on separate missions, to destroy Alex Cross. Just when he returned to his psychiatry practice full-time, Dr. Cross is faced with a series of homicides, bizarre enough to make him a consultant teamed with his girlfriend, Detective Bree Stone and his old partner, Detective John Sampson. This book moves rapidly along, with its twists and turns, culminating in an acceptable climax, but leaving the readers holding its breath, knowing another Alex Cross story is coming!
So, these are my choices of reading material over the last weeks. I've not included my various magazines, journals and daily newspapers. For me, reading books are pleasurable fuel for the brain; reading newspapers are a constant source of inspiration and reading my magazines are always a luxury. And, of course, having a supply of "Triple Layer Double Fudge Brownies," makes any reading, very decadent.
I've never read Ben Coes, but Eye for an Eye has made me a convert. Ben does a series featuring Dewey Andreas, former Army Ranger and Delta Force, who is on a personal mission of revenge. Even if Dewey cuts himself loose and goes rogue, his mission is unalterable. The political dramas, world intrigues and a very real scenario of China's possible mega-financial aid to the Americans, makes this an exciting book. Eye for an Eye is fast-paced and satisfied my blood-thirsty penchant for a great action story. Due to be released in June 2014, Coes' newest Dewey Andreas, Independence Day will definitely have me in line when it hits the bookstores. If you can't wait his e-books are available on both www.amazon.ca and www.amazon.com .
I've just finished devouring a crime-mystery, A Hemorrhaging of Souls, written by Canadian crime-writer, dedicated hockey player and fellow chocoholic, Nicola Furlong, who can be found at www.nicolafurlong.com I love reading mysteries, thrillers, adventures, historical-romances,--anything that grabs my eyeballs from the first page and holds it to the last. A Hemorrhaging of Souls does this admirably.
Set in an all-girls' Catholic school, someone has been killing its young students. Tempest Ivory, child psychologist and gifted soprano, desperately searches for answers as to who and why. Cleverly woven into the story is the turbulent family relations between Patrick Painter, homicide detective in charge of of the case and his father, Leonard, a retired cop. Tempest's traumatic childhood slowly emerges with the discovery of a personal connection to the Catholic school. With the opera, Rigoletto, playing in the background, A Hemorrhaging of Souls races to an astonishing, yet satisfying conclusion of the murders at the private all-girls' school.
I consider this a 'quick-read' as the story really moves along. You've got the clues, you've got the suspects, but who dunnit? Get your copy at www.amazon.com and find out for yourself.
The blend between truth and fiction can become indistinguishable when diving into a James Rollin story. Years ago, I was hooked with Subterranean followed by at least a dozen more stories, falling from Rollin's talented pen. With each book, the readers are taken on an international adventure, spiced with a dollop of supernatural and always with a good historical/archeological background. Co-authored with Rebecca Cantrell, Rollin's latest book, Innocent Blood carries on the Order of the Sanguines series, began in Blood Gospel. I'm not sure if I totally liked this book as it continues to raise some perplexing questions on the accepted teachings of the Holy Bible. Combined with science and mystical beliefs, Rollins and Cantrell have crafted a believable and plausible story. I found this is not a book to race through as there are several subplots happening--and as a reader, you don't want to miss out on any nuances. All of it eventually converges to a climax that will definitely lead to another book in the Order of the Sanguines series.
After reading Innocent Blood, I wanted something light and funny. Relish, My Life in the Kitchen, is a fun read by Lucy Knisley. Lucy's graphic memoirs, with its cherished family recipes is a humorous romp through her childhood and growing-up years with a chef Mom and a gourmand Dad. Relish is a fast and entertaining read as Lucy uses her art to tell the story. Filled with a peek at her foodie childhood and coming-of-age, this very entertaining book also includes some fail-proof, mouth-watering recipes that are easy to follow. Relish is Lucy's second book and makes a perfect gift for any foodie! It is a book easily dipped into again and again. Relish rates a place on my bookshelf--beside my other well-thumbed cookbooks!
James Patterson is a prolific writer who creates several series. His Alex Cross books are always thrilling and suspenseful. Double Cross was written in 2007, but I finally got hold of a copy and thoroughly enjoyed diving into it. Double Cross has not one, but two psychopathic killers, on separate missions, to destroy Alex Cross. Just when he returned to his psychiatry practice full-time, Dr. Cross is faced with a series of homicides, bizarre enough to make him a consultant teamed with his girlfriend, Detective Bree Stone and his old partner, Detective John Sampson. This book moves rapidly along, with its twists and turns, culminating in an acceptable climax, but leaving the readers holding its breath, knowing another Alex Cross story is coming!
So, these are my choices of reading material over the last weeks. I've not included my various magazines, journals and daily newspapers. For me, reading books are pleasurable fuel for the brain; reading newspapers are a constant source of inspiration and reading my magazines are always a luxury. And, of course, having a supply of "Triple Layer Double Fudge Brownies," makes any reading, very decadent.
Tuesday, 11 February 2014
Smash Magnet
I'm convinced I'm a "Smash Magnet" and by golly, I would rather be a "Babe Magnet" or any other kind of magnet than what I am destined to be.
When Hubby bought the spanking new, blemish-free, silver Volvo station-wagon, I was thrilled until I heard those fatal words, "This will be our last car, Honey. We'll drive it until we can't drive it anymore." I think Hubby meant until we're too old to drive. I don't think he meant when the car starts to look like a battle zone.
It really isn't my fault that someone spitefully gouged one side of the car with their keys. Or, someone else ran their grocery cart into the Volvo's rear end. Or that someone actually raced away when they backed into the Volvo, causing a caved-in rear corner. It's almost as if the "Car gods" were having a field day, chortling and jabbing each other in glee as I carefully drive away on my errands--in my repainted scrapes, with carefully patched wounds on the Volvo. Even if I parked miles away from anyone else, the car will have obtained new scratches and dents when I return. Honest to god--all those times were not my fault!
Two weeks ago, I made it home without a scratch, until the concrete wall of the underground parkade reached over and grabbed the Volvo. There was no one to blame except "Yours truly" and I was so angry, you could fry doughnuts in my "sizzle." How the heck did I ever do something so stupid? The poor car really looked like it came from a fierce battle and lost--deep scratches and a large dent along the length of the passenger side, that's the right side. A phone call to the insurance adjuster and a visit to the body shop followed. It didn't help that the body-shop guy took one look and exclaimed, "Holy crap, that's really bad!" and with a gleam of $$$ in his eyes, started tallying the damage.
Darn if I wasn't loaned a Toyota Corolla that had just been returned by a person who had dented, scratched and mashed the front. The body-shop guy told me with a straight face, "We didn't fix it yet as it's the only loaner we have left." Huh! I knew it! My one-time only, "my-fault" accident, has labeled me a "Smash Magnet," so if by chance, someone runs into this Loaner car with their grocery cart, car and/or car keys, this car already needs to be repaired.
If you ever spot this silver Toyota Corolla in the parking lot, please steer clear of it. Blindfold your shopping carts as they are attracted to silver Corollas. And watch those keys--their pointy ends have this need to give silver Corollas a deep "caress."
Meanwhile, I am beginning to become fond of this battle-weary Corolla--it reminds me of my beloved Volvo, still recovering in the car hospital. . .
When Hubby bought the spanking new, blemish-free, silver Volvo station-wagon, I was thrilled until I heard those fatal words, "This will be our last car, Honey. We'll drive it until we can't drive it anymore." I think Hubby meant until we're too old to drive. I don't think he meant when the car starts to look like a battle zone.
It really isn't my fault that someone spitefully gouged one side of the car with their keys. Or, someone else ran their grocery cart into the Volvo's rear end. Or that someone actually raced away when they backed into the Volvo, causing a caved-in rear corner. It's almost as if the "Car gods" were having a field day, chortling and jabbing each other in glee as I carefully drive away on my errands--in my repainted scrapes, with carefully patched wounds on the Volvo. Even if I parked miles away from anyone else, the car will have obtained new scratches and dents when I return. Honest to god--all those times were not my fault!
Two weeks ago, I made it home without a scratch, until the concrete wall of the underground parkade reached over and grabbed the Volvo. There was no one to blame except "Yours truly" and I was so angry, you could fry doughnuts in my "sizzle." How the heck did I ever do something so stupid? The poor car really looked like it came from a fierce battle and lost--deep scratches and a large dent along the length of the passenger side, that's the right side. A phone call to the insurance adjuster and a visit to the body shop followed. It didn't help that the body-shop guy took one look and exclaimed, "Holy crap, that's really bad!" and with a gleam of $$$ in his eyes, started tallying the damage.
Darn if I wasn't loaned a Toyota Corolla that had just been returned by a person who had dented, scratched and mashed the front. The body-shop guy told me with a straight face, "We didn't fix it yet as it's the only loaner we have left." Huh! I knew it! My one-time only, "my-fault" accident, has labeled me a "Smash Magnet," so if by chance, someone runs into this Loaner car with their grocery cart, car and/or car keys, this car already needs to be repaired.
If you ever spot this silver Toyota Corolla in the parking lot, please steer clear of it. Blindfold your shopping carts as they are attracted to silver Corollas. And watch those keys--their pointy ends have this need to give silver Corollas a deep "caress."
Meanwhile, I am beginning to become fond of this battle-weary Corolla--it reminds me of my beloved Volvo, still recovering in the car hospital. . .
Natasha Elena
Natasha Elena is my 3 year old god-daughter. Since she was a baby, she has always called me "Nana" because her one and only real grandmother lives in Austria. Having Tasha for the day is always a treat, both for her and for myself. My god-daughter thinks she is helping me stop saying "bad words" and I like to think, she's being gently educated.
I'm normally a very calm and happy person, but there are certain times, when I feel enough is enough. I don't often swear--at least, not in English. And, even if it is in Cantonese, it's more an insult than a cuss word. Tasha hadn't spoken any words yet, but when she finally did, her first words were "scum-bag." It didn't sit well with her parents who had been priming her with "Mama" and "Papa." My defense was I thought she had been asleep when I was watching my Clint Eastwood "Dirty Harry" video.
I should have known better than to leave Tasha alone for 2 minutes, even if she was busy with her colouring book and big crayons. My newly painted blank wall was too tempting for a budding artist. She had carefully crayoned her best art on my new blush peach wall.
"Je***, I tried to say, while scrambling to remember if those were the washable crayons or not.
"Cheezies, Nana--you can say cheezies," Tasha cheerfully offered.
"Remember what Nana said about drawing on walls, Tasha?"
"Uh-huh."
"And what did Nana say not to do?"
"Umm, Nana said 'Nebber gotcha Danny, ebber do it again." Even my brain blinked as I tried to decipher what I had actually said back then. Oh, right--"Never, god-damn ever, do it again!" lost its punch when you had to sub swear words for socially acceptable ones meant for little ears. Tasha was two and a half at that time.
Another time, I had parked the car in the Super Store parking lot, when we made a grocery stop. Tasha was riding in the cart, along with the groceries, when we both spotted the new ugly scrape on the side of my car.
"Holy sh**!" I hollered, managing to stop myself midway.
"Holy sheep, Nana--it's holy sheep!" my god-daughter corrected with a giggle.
Tasha had been with me when I had to go to the local department store to settle an accounting mistake. Someone else's purchases had ended on my monthly statement. No matter how it was explained, the accounting person refused to acknowledge it was their mistake and suggested I contact Management if I wasn't happy. It had been a very frustrating hour and forgetting Tasha was there too, I muttered insults at that "ass****" who had refused to listen. Tugging my hand to get my attention, my little god-daughter announced in her loud voice, "Sassy mole, Nana. You can say sassy-mole." Somehow "sassy-mole" didn't conjure up the same image of the aggravating accounts person.
I do enjoy my god-daughter. She really is very special and lovable. Whenever we spend time together, it's filled with laughter and sometimes for me, new words. It's amazing how quickly I can scramble to substitute for any cuss words and, if I'm not quick enough, Tasha would giggle and change the word for me. I use to dread her going home and tossing all the real words back to her parents, but so far, I still have access to my precious god-daughter.
The other day, I discovered Tasha has learned a Cantonese phrase and she delivered it perfectly. With her tiny hands fisted on her hips, she frowned at Loki, her Maltese terrier. Her tiny dog had chewed one ear off her stuffed bear. "Aii-ya Su-ya. Kwai, kwai!" which roughly translated means, "You stupid--bad, bad!"
Yes indeed--I definitely treasure these moments and don't want her growing up too quickly. Sometimes I think Tasha will be a wonderful peace-maker, an ambassador for her country. Other times, I think she may be a linguist as she already speaks fluent Austrian and English. She has a wonderful imagination and grasp of words so she may become a famous writer. For her young age, she has a sense of adventure and isn't afraid to try foods that are new to her. I want to be there when she discovers what the world has to offer and all the things she can do to make the world a better place. I want her to gotcha Danny do it well and holy sheep, make us proud.
Nana loves you, Natasha Elena.
I'm normally a very calm and happy person, but there are certain times, when I feel enough is enough. I don't often swear--at least, not in English. And, even if it is in Cantonese, it's more an insult than a cuss word. Tasha hadn't spoken any words yet, but when she finally did, her first words were "scum-bag." It didn't sit well with her parents who had been priming her with "Mama" and "Papa." My defense was I thought she had been asleep when I was watching my Clint Eastwood "Dirty Harry" video.
I should have known better than to leave Tasha alone for 2 minutes, even if she was busy with her colouring book and big crayons. My newly painted blank wall was too tempting for a budding artist. She had carefully crayoned her best art on my new blush peach wall.
"Je***, I tried to say, while scrambling to remember if those were the washable crayons or not.
"Cheezies, Nana--you can say cheezies," Tasha cheerfully offered.
"Remember what Nana said about drawing on walls, Tasha?"
"Uh-huh."
"And what did Nana say not to do?"
"Umm, Nana said 'Nebber gotcha Danny, ebber do it again." Even my brain blinked as I tried to decipher what I had actually said back then. Oh, right--"Never, god-damn ever, do it again!" lost its punch when you had to sub swear words for socially acceptable ones meant for little ears. Tasha was two and a half at that time.
Another time, I had parked the car in the Super Store parking lot, when we made a grocery stop. Tasha was riding in the cart, along with the groceries, when we both spotted the new ugly scrape on the side of my car.
"Holy sh**!" I hollered, managing to stop myself midway.
"Holy sheep, Nana--it's holy sheep!" my god-daughter corrected with a giggle.
Tasha had been with me when I had to go to the local department store to settle an accounting mistake. Someone else's purchases had ended on my monthly statement. No matter how it was explained, the accounting person refused to acknowledge it was their mistake and suggested I contact Management if I wasn't happy. It had been a very frustrating hour and forgetting Tasha was there too, I muttered insults at that "ass****" who had refused to listen. Tugging my hand to get my attention, my little god-daughter announced in her loud voice, "Sassy mole, Nana. You can say sassy-mole." Somehow "sassy-mole" didn't conjure up the same image of the aggravating accounts person.
I do enjoy my god-daughter. She really is very special and lovable. Whenever we spend time together, it's filled with laughter and sometimes for me, new words. It's amazing how quickly I can scramble to substitute for any cuss words and, if I'm not quick enough, Tasha would giggle and change the word for me. I use to dread her going home and tossing all the real words back to her parents, but so far, I still have access to my precious god-daughter.
The other day, I discovered Tasha has learned a Cantonese phrase and she delivered it perfectly. With her tiny hands fisted on her hips, she frowned at Loki, her Maltese terrier. Her tiny dog had chewed one ear off her stuffed bear. "Aii-ya Su-ya. Kwai, kwai!" which roughly translated means, "You stupid--bad, bad!"
Yes indeed--I definitely treasure these moments and don't want her growing up too quickly. Sometimes I think Tasha will be a wonderful peace-maker, an ambassador for her country. Other times, I think she may be a linguist as she already speaks fluent Austrian and English. She has a wonderful imagination and grasp of words so she may become a famous writer. For her young age, she has a sense of adventure and isn't afraid to try foods that are new to her. I want to be there when she discovers what the world has to offer and all the things she can do to make the world a better place. I want her to gotcha Danny do it well and holy sheep, make us proud.
Nana loves you, Natasha Elena.
Being Kind
Kindness comes in many forms and often, when you least expect it. My neighbour was complaining about the shoddy treatment she had received from her taxi-driver. Apparently he was either having a very bad day or he was normally a very mean-tempered driver. Whatever it was, he had left my elderly neighbour 2 blocks from her home to struggle through the heavy rain. She was carrying parcels and doing her best to walk that distance with the aid of her cane. Her arthritic hips and knees made walking difficult. A scruffy young man, waiting for his bus, saw her stumble and quickly moved to grab her and hold her upright. Despite the fact that his long awaited bus was approaching, he insisted on carrying her parcels and walking her home. Magda said softly, "He could have been a thief or a mugger, but I trusted his intentions. He cancelled an act of meanest with an act of kindness."
Yesterday, I was enroute to my Mom's to help her with a few errands. Of all days, my car wouldn't start. After checking all the possibilities, I concluded it was something to do with my ignition because the key went in, turned the car's dashboard on but didn't turn further to start the car.
When all else fails--grab your husband, so I did. He too, did all the things I did and--nothing. The key was stuck at Level 1 and didn't go further to turn on the ignition. I ended up calling a taxi. Coming home in another taxi, I mentioned the car problem to my driver. It turned out his other job was car-mechanic. Unbelievable! He asked if I did this or did I do that? I replied yes to all of them. Finally he asked if he could take a look when he got me home. I replied, absolutely! After going through all the things Hubby and I did, he concluded the problem was the security coding in my remote. I was flabbergasted. How the heck did I mess up the security coding in a key remote that has only 4 functions and none of them had anything to do with the security code? Another of Life's puzzles. And an unexpected act of kindness as my driver/auto-mechanic took the time to figure what the problem could be. Now, our next problem is how to get our non-starting car to the dealership so this "diagnosis" can be confirmed.
People in long line-ups can be nasty and testy, especially if they still have a long list of stuff to do before Christmas. Postal line-ups are the worst. Everyone wants their parcels, etc. to get there before the Big Day and of course, at this late date, it would take a Christmas miracle to achieve that! A young Mom was trying to keep her toddler and tiny baby from getting whiny or fretful. She was 10th in line. The young man in front of her cheerfully offered to trade places so she could move ahead. As they switched, the person now in front of her saw what was happening and offered to trade places too. Within 3 minutes, the young mom and her tots were at the front of the line. Another spontaneous act of kindness.
I believe most people are kind. Many seem to be in a rush or busy or needing to be someplace else now! But, given the opportunity, most people genuinely care enough to make a difference. I like that thought. I like to think that the true Spirit of Christmas is present all year long and not just for a few short weeks.
Have you done something nice for someone today?
Yesterday, I was enroute to my Mom's to help her with a few errands. Of all days, my car wouldn't start. After checking all the possibilities, I concluded it was something to do with my ignition because the key went in, turned the car's dashboard on but didn't turn further to start the car.
When all else fails--grab your husband, so I did. He too, did all the things I did and--nothing. The key was stuck at Level 1 and didn't go further to turn on the ignition. I ended up calling a taxi. Coming home in another taxi, I mentioned the car problem to my driver. It turned out his other job was car-mechanic. Unbelievable! He asked if I did this or did I do that? I replied yes to all of them. Finally he asked if he could take a look when he got me home. I replied, absolutely! After going through all the things Hubby and I did, he concluded the problem was the security coding in my remote. I was flabbergasted. How the heck did I mess up the security coding in a key remote that has only 4 functions and none of them had anything to do with the security code? Another of Life's puzzles. And an unexpected act of kindness as my driver/auto-mechanic took the time to figure what the problem could be. Now, our next problem is how to get our non-starting car to the dealership so this "diagnosis" can be confirmed.
People in long line-ups can be nasty and testy, especially if they still have a long list of stuff to do before Christmas. Postal line-ups are the worst. Everyone wants their parcels, etc. to get there before the Big Day and of course, at this late date, it would take a Christmas miracle to achieve that! A young Mom was trying to keep her toddler and tiny baby from getting whiny or fretful. She was 10th in line. The young man in front of her cheerfully offered to trade places so she could move ahead. As they switched, the person now in front of her saw what was happening and offered to trade places too. Within 3 minutes, the young mom and her tots were at the front of the line. Another spontaneous act of kindness.
I believe most people are kind. Many seem to be in a rush or busy or needing to be someplace else now! But, given the opportunity, most people genuinely care enough to make a difference. I like that thought. I like to think that the true Spirit of Christmas is present all year long and not just for a few short weeks.
Have you done something nice for someone today?
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
Pens
I love pens. I especially like those with ornamental or novelty heads at the end. I have a few that are squishy for those moments when the pen is willing but the paper is blank. I can get inspired squishing the alligator's head so his cheeks and eyes bulge becomingly. Truthfully? It doesn't really inspire any great thought, just creates a bit of fun distraction. I also have a pen that, if you bash it against the palm of your hand, its green bulb flashes on and off. Another distraction for a few moments. My favourite had a goblin head but it fell off one day when I was writing like fury. The replacement pen with the squishy monkey head and pink rubberized hair wasn't quite the same. And the weight of the head made the pen feel top heavy so that writing was a chore. My bug-on-a-green-leaf is cool but it feels awkward when I write so I tuck it in my Snoopy pen cup, along with a few others. I have three different pen cups, all stuffed with pens of fine, medium and thick tips, markers, highliters of various colours, permanent pens for writing on tapes and dvd's. The list goes on.
I find pens are important. You can never have too many because when you need a pen in a hurry, there they are--ready when you are. And, have you noticed when someone lends you a pen, it somehow ends up in your pocket or purse? Or, vice-versa.
Recently, I bought a pack of regular pens--these were the Bic's ultra-round sticks with an easy glide. I like these pens because they start immediately--no scritching on scraps of paper to get the ink started. I've left several lying around but they seem to mysteriously disappear, so someone else must be enjoying them too.
Of course, with my collection of pens, I have to have my pads of many colours. Notepads not only come in a choice of lined or unlined pages but now comes in different motifs, colours and cute slogans or messages. I liked "Sex is Better Than Coffee But Chocolate is Best," or "Don't Tell the Boss, Send Him a Memo," or my favourite phone message pad with "Monkey Business Only." My stickly notepad has a message too.
The other day, I had this crazy inspiration and just had to write it down before I forgot it. I wrote the few lines on my lime-green sticky pad and tucked it in my purse. This morning at the bank, while searching for my bank card, my sticky pad fell on the teller's counter. Prominently across the top, in big black letters was "This is a Stick-up" and in much smaller letters, directly below, "Stick Me on Anything!" Thank goodness the teller didn't panic and had a sense of humour!
Okay--enough of these distractions--back to work. . .
I find pens are important. You can never have too many because when you need a pen in a hurry, there they are--ready when you are. And, have you noticed when someone lends you a pen, it somehow ends up in your pocket or purse? Or, vice-versa.
Recently, I bought a pack of regular pens--these were the Bic's ultra-round sticks with an easy glide. I like these pens because they start immediately--no scritching on scraps of paper to get the ink started. I've left several lying around but they seem to mysteriously disappear, so someone else must be enjoying them too.
Of course, with my collection of pens, I have to have my pads of many colours. Notepads not only come in a choice of lined or unlined pages but now comes in different motifs, colours and cute slogans or messages. I liked "Sex is Better Than Coffee But Chocolate is Best," or "Don't Tell the Boss, Send Him a Memo," or my favourite phone message pad with "Monkey Business Only." My stickly notepad has a message too.
The other day, I had this crazy inspiration and just had to write it down before I forgot it. I wrote the few lines on my lime-green sticky pad and tucked it in my purse. This morning at the bank, while searching for my bank card, my sticky pad fell on the teller's counter. Prominently across the top, in big black letters was "This is a Stick-up" and in much smaller letters, directly below, "Stick Me on Anything!" Thank goodness the teller didn't panic and had a sense of humour!
Okay--enough of these distractions--back to work. . .
Monday, 1 October 2012
Manual Woes
There is nothing I dislike more than having to read a manual. It's probably not that big a deal, but when this issue comes up, it's a biggie for me. Most times, I don't have to read any manuals unless it becomes absolutely necessary--at which point, I become thoroughly traumatized.
Hubby and I have devised a system (of sorts) over the years--Hubby does the assembling and fixing. When needed, I read these folded bits of paper or booklets with the instructions and important information in sixteen different languages. Sometimes the assembling instructions are quite detailed, but stated in an unique mode of English that defies interpretation, especially if the article is made in some place like Outer Bhurkistan. And conversely, there are the English instructions and information that are quite sparing in words, leaving you to fill in the blanks.
The worse is when the instructions comes in pictures, sometimes hand-drawn. I know, I know--it's suppose to supersede sixteen translations when pictures are assume to be universal. Hubby has a fantastic grasp of what is needed to be done as he can imagine which part fits where. However, I can never figure out the pictures, no matter which way I turn the diagram.
The one and only time I didn't mind reading the manual was when we were assembling my desk. This project had a perfect manual. The instructions clearly showed every nut, bolt, screw and washer included. Each piece and part was labeled clearly. The desk was packaged to be assembled in sections that had to be done in a specific order. It was a "dream" project and one that went smoothly and frazzled-free. Best of all, the instructions were written in clear, concise and real English. To this day, I'm still using the desk which has held up well. But I digress.
Manuals were never part of my genetic setup. I'm the type of person who likes to watch how various stuff is put together and then do it. My brain does not absorb the printed words or pictures of a do-it-yourself manual. I always figured the good Lord did not put me on this Earth to nut-n-bolt stuff unless it was something edible. And in that situation, I can out-perform anyone.
But it's not just popping the pieces together in the how-to section. It's the other part of the manual that explains the what-for's, why-for's and where-for's. I really don't need to scare myself knowing these things, since the only time I'll dive for the manual is when something goes terribly wrong. And hopefully, Troubleshooting will give me the answer or the 1-800 number for Customer Assistance. For now, I'll just stack all these booklets and bits of paper together and file them under "M" for manuals.
Hubby and I have devised a system (of sorts) over the years--Hubby does the assembling and fixing. When needed, I read these folded bits of paper or booklets with the instructions and important information in sixteen different languages. Sometimes the assembling instructions are quite detailed, but stated in an unique mode of English that defies interpretation, especially if the article is made in some place like Outer Bhurkistan. And conversely, there are the English instructions and information that are quite sparing in words, leaving you to fill in the blanks.
The worse is when the instructions comes in pictures, sometimes hand-drawn. I know, I know--it's suppose to supersede sixteen translations when pictures are assume to be universal. Hubby has a fantastic grasp of what is needed to be done as he can imagine which part fits where. However, I can never figure out the pictures, no matter which way I turn the diagram.
The one and only time I didn't mind reading the manual was when we were assembling my desk. This project had a perfect manual. The instructions clearly showed every nut, bolt, screw and washer included. Each piece and part was labeled clearly. The desk was packaged to be assembled in sections that had to be done in a specific order. It was a "dream" project and one that went smoothly and frazzled-free. Best of all, the instructions were written in clear, concise and real English. To this day, I'm still using the desk which has held up well. But I digress.
Manuals were never part of my genetic setup. I'm the type of person who likes to watch how various stuff is put together and then do it. My brain does not absorb the printed words or pictures of a do-it-yourself manual. I always figured the good Lord did not put me on this Earth to nut-n-bolt stuff unless it was something edible. And in that situation, I can out-perform anyone.
But it's not just popping the pieces together in the how-to section. It's the other part of the manual that explains the what-for's, why-for's and where-for's. I really don't need to scare myself knowing these things, since the only time I'll dive for the manual is when something goes terribly wrong. And hopefully, Troubleshooting will give me the answer or the 1-800 number for Customer Assistance. For now, I'll just stack all these booklets and bits of paper together and file them under "M" for manuals.
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