Sunday Scatterberry Pie and Roll Call -- a little bit of everything, in the usual fashion

I've just finished giving my cat her medicine, which essentially means trying to get her to swallow some antibiotic drops and ending up with antibiotic spit all over my hands. You've never had any fun until you've tried to pill or give drops to or put ointment in the eye of a lovable but feisty cat. That's an old photo at left, of course. Her left eye is completely black and she obviously can't see out of it, but she's already figured out how to jump up onto the futon and down onto the floor without incident. I'm so impressed with her adaptability. Miss Spooky: my hero.

I finished Crossing Myself by Greg Garrett, last night, and I know I'm going to have a terrible time reviewing it because the book is so meaningful that it hurts my head to think of distilling it down into a few paragraphs' worth of review. I'm considering just posting quotes -- nothing but quotes. Well, maybe a little bit of description, but I'll tell you about it a bit, right now. Greg Garrett is or was a tenured university professor at Baylor in Waco, Texas. He was successful in his teaching and in his published writing, but his private life was a disaster -- three divorces, two kids, often out of money and chronically depressed for over 20 years.

In 2002, he came this close to committing suicide but instead discovered the real meaning of faith and, while teaching at a Baptist university, began attending an Episcopal seminary. He talks about his life in those years, as he went from complete and utter mess to loving his life. This book is so cool. I ordered Crossing Myself from Paperback Swap because I've got another Garrett book for review, a recent release called No Idea. I can't wait to see what new things he has to say.

I heard the best story, yesterday. That's a photo of an iron-clad Confederate boat, at left. You'll understand why I chose that image, shortly. Kiddo has had to throw in the towel for the rest of the swim season because his shoulder injury was getting far too painful, so we were shopping for running shoes in Jackson. I figured if he's not going to have swimming to keep him in shape, we should train to run together (although you can imagine I'll never be able to run at the pace of a 6-foot, 17-year-old boy).

While we were shopping, we ran into one of my husband's work friends and he had a great story to tell. We'll call him Bob. Bob had to speak at a briefing, last week, and he and the other speakers went into it knowing the meeting was going to be extraordinarily dull. So, to ward off the boredom, they dared each other to insert some totally impossible word into their presentations. Bob was challenged to use the word "aluminum" in his part of the briefing. Aluminum, of course, was totally off-the-wall and plays no part in anything about which he was to speak, but he was determined to get that word in there and what he came up with was, "This is not an iron-clad plan. This is an aluminum-clad plan." After the presentation, the Big Boss came up to him and said, "What was the deal with the aluminum remark?" And, Bob went away with a really great story that made us laugh our socks off in the aisle of Academy Sporting Goods. I wouldn't mind hanging out with Bob. He is one great storyteller and an incredibly cheerful, upbeat guy.

I'm currently reading a bunch of books, as always. I sometimes wish I could reign in my ADD brain and focus on one book at a time, but I actually tried to finish up $20 Per Gallon and discovered that it's best taken in small chunks (at least for me). So, I'm back to reading 3-page bits and pieces. It's a good book. I'm particularly fascinated with the descriptions of the new South Korean city, Songdo, which is being built entirely as a compact, energy-efficient satellite city that sounds a lot more like the Jetsons' world than anything I would have expected to exist in my lifetime. I'm thinking the book is a good one for people who plan to do world-building in preparation for writing science fiction.

Milky Way Marmalade seems to be the book that I can't stop burying, lately -- the one that needs a neon flag attached. I may set it aside for a week or two because I've got quite a list of books that I feel obligated to finish before the end of the month, even though I only have one remaining tour. Or, maybe I'll just restart it. I apparently love weighing myself down with nonexistent obligations.

The Interrogative Mood lost me at the halfway point. A book composed entirely of questions is fun . . . to a point. And, halfway was it for me. I can imagine it would generate some great discussion -- say, if a group were to read it and each individual choose his or her favorite questions for everyone to answer. But, as far as reading the entire book, the problem is that there's no story and no particular direction. Its a totally random book with question after question, most of which are not interconnected, although sometimes he goes on for a while with a particular train of thought. It made my son and me laugh when we read it aloud (and blush when one or two of the questions were sex-based) but there's a limit to how far you can take the fun. It should be a board game, not a book, I guess.

The Maze Runner is still grabbing me but took second place while I finished up Crossing Myself, last night. It seems likely that it will be the next book finished, if only because just thinking about it makes me want to kick my husband off the futon and curl up with it. But, I have things to do, so he can stay there and play with his little toy (some electronic Applepod thingy).

As to the Roll Call mentioned in my subject line . . . there's another story. I had around 240 hits in 24 hours, just after posting the zombie book review and I made the assumption that maybe people were looking up the zombie book, but just to find out I went on one of my rare jaunts to StatCounter and discovered that my hits were all over the map, as far as the searches that led them to my blog. When I first put up my stat counter, I fussed over the numbers and wondered what I should do to change things to keep people coming back. And, then at some point I decided that numbers are meaningless and I'm not in this for anything other than a mode of expression. I'm not blogging for free books. I'm not blogging to make money. I just need an outlet to babble about the books I love and a place to write freely.

Yesterday, I made the near-fatal mistake of looking at keyword analysis and then from there I ended up looking at unique visitors vs. return visitors and found that my statistics show that people don't return to my blog. That isn't entirely borne out by the comments but I know that some people I used to think of as "old faithfuls" aren't returning to my blog as often as they used to and that bothers me. After looking at my stats, I was ready to stop blogging right at that moment, close up shop, hide my blog and disappear. But, then I remembered checking off Day by Day Armageddon, last week, and saying to myself, "4 down, 17 to go." All of which means, I still feel burdened by the books that have been sent to me but not yet read or reviewed, so I'll keep chugging away.

But, I'd like to know who is out there lurking. Readers like Google Reader distort statistics because people often read a post but don't click through to comment. I'm pretty sure the fact that 56 people follow me in that little Google Friend thing that you can't find unless you go to my "about" page says something; and, the others who use readers of various types are still there but not always commenting. Still, I'd like to know, so if you could step forward and comment -- just say, "I'm here," it would help ease my mind.

I'm off to get ready for my Bible study. My own reader is oppressively heavy, again, and this week my son is off for "intercession" so I'll be in and out a lot. Kiddo needs to be entertained or he'll spend all day shooting at bad guys and watching movies in the dark. I wish everyone a wonderful week. If I'm unable to comment on posts, it's a temporary thing. I'll be back next week. In addition to dealing with intercession entertainment, we've got the Poison Guy to look forward to and a carpet installation, mid-week. Kiddo has a doctor appointment and will still show up for swim practice, even if he's not swimming. I have photos to load to the swim blog and cleaning and paint touch-up to do in preparation for the carpet dudes. It's going to be a busy week. Happy reading!

Don't forget to tell me you're out there, please!! Happy Sunday!

Bookfool, feeling just a wee bit lonely

Sunday Pie - Complete with 4 and 20 blackbirds, looking crusty and a bit miffed

Admittedly, I have nothing to say about blackbirds. I just thought they sounded like the best pie filling to describe my week - a week that involved migraines, allergies, burn-out, disappearing muses, and rain, rain, rain.

I've already mentioned several times, this week, that I'm a little burned out. However, I was Saved by Simon as a second reading of Love Begins in Winter pulled me out of my grievous but short-lived reading black hole. And, to Simon I must apologize. I had every intention of posting a review of Love Begins in Winter before the release date (the 14th of May, I believe) but hadn't anticipated that my blogging muse would run off with the yard man. No, we don't have a yard man, which is exactly the point. It appears that we need one desperately and the yard man of my wishes and dreams has run off. And whoosh, there went my blogging muse, so obviously it's a romance made for those who believe in the supernatural.

Let me just begin by telling you that Simon's books are quickly becoming my most tattered possessions. I read them, flip back to look for quotes, read them again, open them at random and stick my finger on a paragraph to see what I find . . . and I spilled a bottle of water on his first book (bad reason for the book to become a mess). Usually, I keep my books pristine. The fact that I feel like it would be best to buy several copies of each of Simon's books in order to preserve at least one gives you an idea just how much I value them.

And, now on to the pie of my weekend reading. I finished my second reading of Simon's book on Friday night. Saturday we drove to Borders because they obviously need my support with all those vicious rumors about their end drawing nigh floating about. On Friday, I saw the coupon that said "Spend $50 at Borders, get a $10 gift card," and scoffed, "As if I'm going to spend $50!" Yes, you know the end of that sentiment. The books I spent my $50 on:

The Dead and the Gone by Susan Beth Pfeffer

Love Begins in Winter by Simon Van Booy (only my second copy -- I'll need a few more; incidentally, it was shelved in poetry instead of literature at our Flowood Borders and we had given up finding a copy till my husband found it during a serendipitous moment . . . as he plunked down on a chair in front of the poetry section)

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan

Obviously, I'm in a Young Adult mood. I already whipped through The Dead and the Gone. More on that, later. Much later, I suppose, because . . .

I have 4 book tours, this week, and I haven't read a single title from the upcoming tour pile. I'll post the sneak peek chapters without any review unless lightning strikes, turning me instantly into a speed-reading freak. Also, my blogging muse will have to show up. At this point, I can read and ramble just fine; I simply can't get myself to write a review.

Thursday will be my first open day and I'll double-post my reviews of SLOB by Ellen Potter and Love Begins in Winter, both of which I should have posted last week or the week before. And, by then I hope to have finished The Nonesuch by Georgette Heyer (which has unaccountably not made it into my sidebar. Neither did The Dead and the Gone, but that's another story). I'm also reading and enjoying The Non-Runner's Marathon Guide for Women by Dawn Dais. Lord knows when I'll finish, though.

This all makes me sound overwhelmed, still (at the very least, extremely scheduled) but it's the fact that I'm not going to push the issue of reading those tour books on time that I hope will spare me from spiraling back into the reading black hole (a horrible place to be -- I'd advise you give it a wide berth). A little staring at the wall, a little sleep, a lot of running in the park, and maybe I'll be normal by Thursday. I may not comment at blogs, this week, just to save my dwindling stockpile of brain cells.

I wish you all a pleasant week, full of great books and sunshine,

Bookfool, or rather what's left of Bookfool