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May 2009

For the Love of a Good Mystery

Don't worry, Curls, there are no spoilers here.

Our book club is meeting tomorrow. We're reading The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton. I found the book amongst the top sellers on Amazon while browsing my kindle trying to come up with something to recommend. There's nothing worse at book club then getting to the end of the meeting and no one has any suggestions for our next read and we're all just frantically trying to pick something. Because chances are, if we don't pick something at the meeting, it will take us at least another week trying to email and comment on suggestions back and forth. I just want to get reading already! I'll be halfway into something else, then have to stop and to read the book club book in time. None of us wants that. So I try to always have a suggestion. Stress on the trying. It doesn't always happen. And most of the time, I'm open to just about anything. I just want us to decide on something and keep rolling. We're really pretty good about it. And we've met just about every month for the last, what, four and half years is it? LT was less than a year old, if I remember right (we mothers always mark time by our children's ages, don't we?), so it must be about that.

I haven't read Kate Morton's first novel, but the reviews of this one just sucked me right in. I love a good mystery. How can you not love a good mystery? I learned to love reading through the Bobsey Twins, Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys. Opening a good mystery is like a trip back in time. Staying up until the wee hours of the morning reading. I had an old fashioned lamp on the side of my bed, and I'd learned I could turn it off with out making that conspicuous clicking noise by carefully turning the key-style switch enough so the light was on, but not so far that it would catch in the on position. This way, I could turn the light off by turning the switch backwards and it wouldn't make a sound.

This is the sign of seriously devoted reader. I'm an escapist, no doubt. I would have lived in those stories if I could have.

The Forgotten Garden is over 500 pages. At least that's what I've seen on Amazon. It's hard to tell on a Kindle. I read the entire novel on vacation. I found it hard to put it down. All those pool shots I'm not in, yeah, I was lying in the pool-side bed with my nose stuck in a book.The book is sort of Red River meets Flowers in the Attic. Rather irresistible, in my opinion. Once I tired of devouring mysteries, I quickly moved on to V.C. Andrews. I voraciously read everything she published until I was about fourteen. Have I mentioned I'm a little sick and twisty inside? Nobody does sick and twisty better than V.C. Andrews.

Anyway, the book being so long, two of our members haven't finished it yet, despite the extra couple of weeks we granted ourselves. So how does this speak highly of the book, that half the club hasn't finished it and we're supposed to be done for tomorrow night? Because we're still going to meet, but we are not to discuss the book! Curls and Gem (does that work?), are trying in vain to catch up. They both want to finish, are enjoying it, but just aren't quite going to make it. We'll have to schedule another meeting in a week or so, to actually discuss the book.

I highly recommend The Forgotten Garden. A mysterious Authoress who writes bewitching children's tales, an abandoned cottage, children playing Jack the Ripper in the fogs of London, a lost little girl with no home, no memory, no family . . . . It will pull you right in.

In the mean time, I'm reading Crime and Punishment. Still trying to squeeze in a least one classic I haven't read before in a year. I know there's been all this hype by Polly and the DOL about reading Jane Austen. It's still on my list. Somehow I think Dostoevsky is more my speed. I didn't expect it to remind me so much of Angela's Ashes. Probably should be the other way 'round, but that's the order I read them in.

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Mom, You Kind of Suck, but I Love You Anyway

Vicodin is a beautiful thing, people. I believe I've been suffering from a pinched nerve in my neck which is radiating pain down my right shoulder to my wrist. It's been doing that for a week, despite the Motrin, heating pad, ice pack and Biofreeze I've been using. It's only been getting worse. I have an appointment with a chiropractor on Tuesday. Until then, I now have prescription Motrin and vicodin, which means the brain skills are a bit stilted. Especially after the vodka. So I'm just going to give you the low down on the Mother's Day card I received from Trouble. It read:

Mom,

You are lots of fun and play baseball with us.(This is how I believe I pinched a nerve in my neck.) You watch movies with us too, but boring ones. You are fun anyway.

Love, Trouble

If I just let them watch things like Alien vs Predator every movie night, I'd get much higher praise.

I'm thinking at his High School Graduation, his card should read:

Dear Trouble,

You are a very bright and talented young man. You've been a really great kid when you weren't stealing, being brought home by the police, and complaining about everything twenty-four hours a day.

Love, Mom

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