Book 12: An American Marriage by Tayari Jones

It took me awhile to select a book after I finished In the Time of Butterflies. Actually, I kept rereading parts of Kindred. It was that good.

I first heard of Tayari Jones on a website about The Artist Way. I remembered her name when I saw this book at the library. 

Celestial and Roy have been married for a year-and-a-half when, on a visit to Roy's parents, Roy is arrested for a crime he didn't commit. He is later convicted and sentenced to 12 years in prison. 

As Roy's years in prison exceed the years of their marriage, Celestial finds she can't continue as a wife. When Roy's conviction is vacated after five years, he takes hope in the fact that Celestial has not officially divorced him. 

An American Marriage is both tragic and hopeful. Jones is a talented writer. Here are a few phrases that stood out to me.

        Memory is a queer creature, an eccentric curator.

        Marriage is like grafting a limb onto a tree trunk.

I want to read more of Jones' work. 

TV Time--Star Trek: Picard

In a recent post, I complained about the "lost" son of Picard. Last night we watched the series finale, and I understand why Jack is Picard's son. It's the whole point of the plot, but I still don't like it. I also don't like Jack Crusher--he's entitled and whiny. He seems annoyed that Picard doesn't admit to missing a family life at a time when Picard doesn't know he has a child. It also seems out of character for Beverly Crusher to hide their child from Picard. 

Picard and his former first officer Riker use the starship Titan (with help from Seven of Nine) to rescue Beverly and Jack. When it appears the ship is doomed, Riker suggests Picard attempt to bond with Jack. Fine, but they decide to bond in the holodeck--after it's been established that the life support has been cut in parts of the ship. There's no way the holodeck would be running in this scenario. I was mad that if I could see that, the writers couldn't or worse didn't care. 

There were several predictable moments in the show. The Titan's Captain Shaw is the Starfleet antagonist to Picard and Riker. I knew he would redeem himself by dying heroically and that he would call Seven of Nine Seven (previously he used her original last name Hansen.) Then there's LaForge's declaration that they lost Data forever. Yeah, right. 

The original villain Vadic (Amanda Plummer) is intriguing, but apparently not enough for the writers. Vadic is a rogue Changeling fighting the Federation. The Changelings are also not enough for this show--enter the Borg.  Amping up the villains reminded me of my complaint about Crimson Shore. It was more effective here. 

I didn't really need to see the whole Next Generation gang together, but have to admit I teared up. Overall, I enjoyed the show despite my criticisms.

It's Friday

I still think of Friday as the end of the week, even though it's really only the end of the traditional Monday through Friday work week. It was a weird week in many ways--a bit stressful with emotional ups and downs. It felt very busy although it wasn't. 

I took Jace on a hour plus walk this morning. I didn't intend to go so long, but turned on a street which dead-ended into a condominium complex. I ignored the No Trespassing sign and tried to cut through the condo to another street, but there was no way to do so. We didn't mind. It was a beautiful day--sunny in the mid-fifties--a welcome change to the last few days of cold mornings in the forties. The dead end and connecting streets had much less traffic than the streets we usually walk. It was soothing to only hear birdsong (and the occasional lawn mower) instead of traffic sounds.

Jeff and I went to the gym--this was my third consecutive week of four visits to the gym. I am feeling good about finally getting into that routine.

In contrast, my writing routine is--well, I have no writing routine. On Monday, I renewed a book from the library on American railroads and wrote a little background for my Merwinsville project. I scribbled a poem on Tuesday. National Poetry Month is coming to and end, I had hoped to write more. 

There's a little time left in the week and the month. Let's see what I can do.

A Picture Post

Spring has really sprung over the last two weeks. Here are a few photos from my walks with Jace. Our walks have been a pleasure lately. I took more pictures, but they just weren't very good.

 

We had an unusually warm week with temperature flirting with 90 degrees. I took Jace to Sherwood Island three times. It was odd to see many people on the beach in April, even a few in the water. Alas, Sherwood Island is now closed to dogs until October. At least, we still have two weeks to go to Cove Island Park in Stamford. 

Years ago, a house on Stevens Street had an owl figure in its yard. It's long gone, but I've seen owls on other neighborhood properties recently.

Walking on the newest Norwalk portion of the Norwalk River Valley Trail (NRVT) I was impressed with some of the graffiti. 

On the same walk, we saw the sign commemorating the Hill Sisters, Norwalk suffragists. 

Finally, here's a photo from February 28 after a snowstorm. 

I especially liked the use of holly leaves as the eyes: it gave the snowperson a Lamb Chop vibe.  

Remembering Lola

Today is the one year anniversary of the day we lost Lola. It seems so long ago. 

We adopted Lola from DAWS (Danbury Animal Welfare Society) in 2016. She was timid and fearful, hiding under our table. Lola grew more confident and outgoing, but she never fully lost her fear and anxiety. 

We don't know much about Lola's early life in Kentucky, but she had clearly been abused. For the six years she lived with us, Lola knew love, care, and fun.

We love you and miss you. Thank you Lola for spending six years with us. 

It's the Easter Beagle!

 

We don't remember where/when we got this. But it was part of a key chain--there's a small hole in Snoopy's head centered in front of his ears. 

It's nice to have a special holiday Snoopy.

Book 11: In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez

This novel is based on the true story of the Mirabal sisters--known as Las Mariposas, the Butterflies--who rebelled against the brutal dictatorship of General Trujillo in the Dominican Republic. In November 1960, three of the four sisters were murdered by Trujillo's agents. Their bodies were found near their wrecked Jeep at the bottom of a cliff when they were returning home after visiting their husbands in jail.

Alvarez does a great job alternating between the four sisters' points of view. I especially liked reading Maria Teresa's chapters as a young innocent learning about Trujillo's true nature. 

This could be a great movie.

Thursday Thoughts

I've spent a lot of time cleaning over the past few days. The main impetus was the return of Jeff's sisters to Connecticut for a brief visit house hunting. They were supposed to come here. One came inside for five minutes; the other waited in the car until we met for dinner. I thought it was rude. At least I didn't bother to make appetizers. 

Yesterday was Bette Davis's birthday. I can't believe I forgot it. I recorded one of her early movies from TCM--So Big--starring Barbara Stanwyck. Bette is only in a few scenes. I would have loved to see the two of them together in a film with meaty parts for both of them. 

I got Jace a new easy walk halter. Two trainers told me the halter with the loop in the back that we had been using is bad for pulling. It seems so obvious now. Plus, we may need a smaller size--small/medium. I have to take Jace's measurements. 

I decided not to take the Norwalk Library spring writing class. I didn't care for most of the winter class prompts and felt like I was going through the motions. It was also easier to write a story for class than to do the hard work on my book. This Monday, I kept busy, so I wouldn't think about the class much. I haven't written except for this post. Sigh.