Books and cooks and stuff

This is going to be a comically short post, I'm sure. Cora has been sleeping now for 40 minutes, which means she's about to wake up. I'll be in the middle of a sentence and will just publish with whatever I've got. It'll probably be peppered with spelling errors and randomness.

So, I'm writing a short story that I started over the weekend, and I am enjoying it so much. My mom came over today morning to watch Cora for awhile, and I headed up to the neighborhood coffee shop and had a cookie and a hot cup of blackberry tea, then got lost in my little tale. I think I'm about midway through. It is really odd how therapeutic it is to write, especially something other than a journal entry. Either my brain benefits from the work and concentration, or my psyche benefits from the escape...or maybe a little of both. I left the shop feeling happy, and my head felt clear.

Also, I am searching for a really, really, really good book to read, the kind that is so fabulous you can hardly wait to pick it up, and you're totally disappointed when you're too tired at night to read anymore, so you turn out the light and close your eyes, but end up creeping out to your living room couch for just a few more quiet pages, until suddenly you realize it's like 3 a.m. and you're completely wasted. I have been struggling with The Far Pavilions for about a year and a half now, and have read several books in between. I picked it up awhile ago hoping it would go back to being the incredible saga it was for the first 600 pages, but it's not. It's just a yawningly long-winded story that needs to wrap up eventually. At least that's how I feel right now, maybe I'll be convinced otherwise when I'm through. Still, it's the kind of experience right now where I look at the 300+ pages still to go, and I just kind of set it down reticently, wishing I had the gumption to keep ploughing through so it would just be over already.

I was at the bookstore the other day and saw a bunch of new, contemporary fiction, and it occurred to me that maybe I've become one of those readers that just really likes contemporary stories. I like the way the books look so clean and blue (have you noticed there's so much blue in the covers these days?) and filled with references to water. I tend to like novels that are told from a whole bunch of perspectives, little linked tales that weave together into a final, satisfying story. Hmm. I also loved Shadows of the Wind, which I read a bit ago. So maybe I need a contemporary novel. But no, that's not really true, either...I read Pride and Prejudice the other weekend and enjoyed that, too (even though I used to claim I hated Jane Austen, which was a silly thing to say), and I think Jane Eyre might still be one of my favorite books. I also just finished Possession, which I've read many times and still totally love. I'm craving a bit of a mystery, with some good romance mixed in, something crisp and clean but with satisfying soggy places, too. Anyway, if you're reading this and you would care to suggest one to me, even an old classic that I should reacquaint myself with, I would be grateful.

I am always surprised by how short the days are in a northwest December. It's only 4 o'clock and it's getting dark. It's hibernation time. I need a good book, a good blanket, a pot of tea, and a pair of slippers. I'm already thinking about dinner, which feels odd--the day slips by and we have to get out during the three beautiful hours in the afternoon, otherwise we've missed it, the window has closed.

Good grief, I'm still writing, which means the wee one is still sleeping. Good for her. Maybe I'll ramble for a second longer. I've been enjoying cooking, and it's because I like cooking winter food. I like baking squash and potatoes and chicken, making big pots of soup with all sorts of random stuff in it, baking a quick batch of cookies or muffins. I've decided I need more recipes. My sister gave me the recently updated Joy of Cooking, and it has a million ideas, of course (including a really good mushroom barley soup and a shepherd's pie), but not necessarily a lot of recipes with kind of a different twist on things, like spicy quinoa or a healthy creamed soup without a ton of cream. I'd like to find a recipe book that was into "pinches" and "pats" rather than asking me to pull out my little fan of measuring spoons all the time. That's why I don't follow very many recipes, I get impatient.

There's a cat lurking outside my window, stealthily searching for some little rodent to tumble around with, and it reminds me of how much fun it's going to be to have a toddler in the spring and summertime. I am going to plant a small garden for us to tend, and we'll be able to play tag on our lawn, and I'll even be able to dress little C up in a swimsuit and set up the sprinkler. Right now, there are all these mushrooms dotting the grass, and clumps of dog poop from my mom's dog (grr), and I am having a tough time letting her go out there and wobble around. I know parents need to achieve that fine balance between curiosity and safety, allowing their children to properly explore their world. And I'm totally OK with that, I'm just not cool with my wobbly little kid eating random fungus and moldy canine contributions. So, we've obviously got some work to do on our yard before it becomes the outdoor extravaganza that I hope she'll come to enjoy.

You know, my ridiculous little baby is actually sleeping the afternoon away. I am very proud of her. I'm going to go back to my story and see how far I can get with the next scene.