“Excuse me, sir. Is the chicken under the warming light labeled ‘hot’ because it’s spicy?”
“Nooo. It means it’s not cold.”
Pardon me, Mr. Crankypants Grocer. I’m pleased I’ve given you something benign to go home and complain about to your family. How silly of me to ask you a question while you put my sides in containers instead of running to the refrigerated shelves to see if the chicken there was labeled ‘cold’ for us clueless shoppers.
While the tv stays off during the day, evenings used to be for watching shows and movies. After more than a decade of this routine, the husband has become unable to waste time on television. As he sits at his computer every night, I realized that there are zero shows I watch without him. Every show I watch is one of “our” shows. Last year, the girl teen told me about “The Good Place” and I only made it two episodes before it became something I needed to watch with the husband. It’s too good to not share. After more than a year of waaaaiting for him to watch tv with me every evening, I’m trying to develop new evening habits.
I read in the carpool line at school and also we recommend downloading learning apps for your kids, take a moment to check this out. I read when I’m stuck in the car for an hour or two at a child’s activity because it would be a waste of fuel to drive home and back. I read to relax. I read to reward myself. I read because it makes me happy. I’m going to end up having read about 70 books by the end of 2017. If I spent my evenings reading instead of pouting while falling down rabbit holes on the Internet, maybe I could have a 100 book year. It would certainly be an excuse to read more and feel slightly less guilty about the selfishness of reading.
If I stick to older books and series, I think I can do this inexpensively by treating McKay’s as book rental instead of store. The books I long ago pre-ordered with 2018 release dates shouldn’t count in the expense of this bit of foolishness. Right? I might have to wander back into the mystery genre that I read decades ago to find enough books I want to take up space in my head. Not too many though. In fantasy and urban fantasy, after you see where everything is headed, it’s still fun to see how the author gets you there. When you reach that much anticipated point in the story, you cheer while reading. With mysteries, you get frustrated at the characters refusing to figure out what you realized chapters ago. By the time they do, you’re convinced they’re morons. I digress.
I googled the idea of reading 100 books in a year and people weren’t very enthusiastic about it. One of the complaints is that you’re too focused on the number of books to enjoy the books. I’ve readjusted my GoodReads goal a dozen times this year trying to avoid reaching it too soon and I’ve loved almost every single book that I’ve read. So, maybe this is something worth doing to amuse myself. Or not. I still haven’t decided.
I tried to write something about today’s mass murder in a Texas church, but it was far too long for the attention span of a blog reader. The fact that I’m an anecdotalist makes that statement depressing. My immediate reaction to the violence being concern for the people I know IRL who will now have their personal experience of a gunman in their church replaying in their heads is the saddest thing of all. It’s not social media that makes these events seem more frequent and closer to home. It is not happening to someone else. This is happening to us. Our families, friends and neighbors are physically and mentally scarred by gun violence.
I can’t remember the last time I ate an apple pie or picked up a baseball. I know there was gun violence and death today. I know there will be gun violence in America tomorrow. Guns are the American pastime.