just for grins.

Posted on May 13, 2011 by pagesofjulia

1. I know what I want for dinner.
2. I would take a nap right now if at all possible.
3. This weather has been great for sweating. And the grass.
4. Nothing is really a problem.
5. I’m really happy I have the ability to ride my bike!
6. Go read a book, or something to that effect.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to beer, tomorrow my plans include riding Rocky Hill Ranch and Sunday, I want to chillax, and take some pictures!

Filed under: musings | Tagged: | Leave a comment »

I Remember

Posted on May 12, 2011 by pagesofjulia

I was struck today by a blog post I found at cakes, tea and dreams. Katie, the blogger there, got this idea from Lindsey at A Design So Vast. The idea is to write for 10-minutes, sort of free-flow, sentences beginning with “I remember.” I liked this so much that I did it, too. I was surprised at what came out.

I remember my father finally taking the training wheels off my bicycle.

I remember riding to day care on the back of my father’s bicycle. (Or maybe I just remember the story?)

I remember my neighborhood friends, Joshua and Jonathon. They were brothers. Joshua once got hit by a car on his bike; the lady stopped, asked if he was okay, and drove on.

I remember trying to come home on time – I was supposed to come home when the street lights came on – but I could never notice, and I was late, consistently.

I remember eating figs off the fig trees in the backyard.

I remember the day my parents came home with a kitten we named Katy.

I remember when our dog Eile came home as a puppy.

I remember a lizard latching on to my finger in the greenhouse. I was told it didn’t hurt; but I screamed and screamed. I guess I was just scared.

I remember my best friend Katie leaning out on my top bunk bed and hitting her head on the ceiling fan (which was on). She went to the hospital to get stitches above her eye.

I remember watching Square One and Mathnet and other educational tv shows after school.

I remember when our neighbor, Mrs. Evans, died. She was very old.

I remember our other elderly neighbors, the Spencers. They were nice. They had lots of interesting things in their garage.

I remember riding our bicycles down the outside, closed corridor of a church in the neighborhood, and yelling. They didn’t like that.

I remember the night my now-husband told me he had been watching and admiring me for years before (I thought) we even met. I remember my chin was on my chest.

I remember my foster brother, Eder.

I remember being SO SURE of what I wanted to be when I grew up. (It’s not what I am now, and that’s okay.)

I remember running at the track with my father running faster than me. He could keep an eye on me even with our two different paces, at the track, so it was a good place to go. There was a soccer game going on on the inside of the track and I really wanted to play soccer, but I didn’t think the grown men would want me.

I remember riding my bicycle with my father along the bayou paths while he ran, and telling him long stories.

I remember when I first learned to read, reading billboards aloud to my parents while they drove; I think I made them nuts.

I remember being told it wasn’t okay to read at the table at dinnertime.

I remember refusing to eat pickles, tomatoes, onions, squash, cheese that wasn’t yellow, olives, lots of things.

Feel free to play along; what do you remember?

Filed under: musings | Tagged: | Leave a comment »

birthday weekend.

Posted on May 7, 2011 by pagesofjulia

Not my blogoversary, silly! That’s still a ways away. But today, May 7, is *my* birthday, and tomorrow, May 8, is the Husband’s! Together we are 70 years old this weekend. (Whew.)

Today I hope for a beautiful bike ride before the Texas Beer Festival with my parents. Tomorrow I hope for a beautiful bike ride before lunch with an old friend. And I hope for some pleasant reading time, too (although I don’t know where that fits in, actually.) So I invite you to raise a glass, ride a bike, and/or read a book with me! Here’s to another fabulous year.

Filed under: miscellaneous | Tagged: | 1 Comment »

the theme of maternity: trendy?

Posted on May 5, 2011 by pagesofjulia

I finally decided that I’ve mentioned this, in passing, so many times that I felt it deserved a post of its own.

The gist is, I’ve formed a growing observation over the last 6-8 months or so (ahem, that would be about how long I’ve had this blog) that I’ve read a lot of books that deal with women’s feelings about their children, feelings about maternity, motherhood, family, and mother-child bonds. I have not sought these books out; I don’t read much in the way of “women & relationships” or romance, and I read very lightly in the realm of pop fiction. Where have all these books come from? My favorite genre is murder mysteries, and the bulk of the books I’m referring to come from this genre; including some quite gory, graphic thrillers. I’m pretty sure this thematic trend is new; mysteries have not always been mommy-oriented! What’s up with that? Let’s take a look. I have written about…

Still Missing by Chevy Stevens
Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger
Look Again by Lisa Scottoline
Love You More by Lisa Gardner
These Things Hidden by Heather Gudenkauf
I’d Know You Anywhere by Laura Lippman
My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult

And I’ve also so far avoided Emma Donoghue’s Room, despite being tempted, because I fear more of the same.

There are mothers in mysteries in general. I know a certain woman in my life has had a growing frustration with Elizabeth George’s series of Inspector Lynley mysteries, due to Deborah St. James’s ongoing guilt, one might even say obsession, with an abortion she had that seems to have effected her ability to have children. This is a thread and a theme within the series – not a major one, but one that helps develop the characters who we get to know so well over the many books, which I feel is one of their strengths. Lynley, Helen, Deborah, St. James, Havers, and a whole cast of characters have extraordinary depth over the course of the series. But, my friend is bothered by the politics; she fears that George is making a political statement about abortion. This led me to this website on which George states her politics on the issue, if rather obliquely. Sorry, I have digressed. My point was, there are mothers in mysteries. Always have been. There are mothers in life, otherwise how would we all get here?

But my observation here is of mysteries that are themed heavily around maternal feelings and mother-child bonds. All of the books I listed above treat this theme as central to the plot. I think it’s a current trend in popular fiction, which probably reflects a current trend in our public consciousness. Babies and how to make them are on a lot of minds these days; the related medical industry is doing fairly well I do believe. I think trends in fiction & literature reflect cultural trends. For example, We Need to Talk About Kevin (by Lionel Shriver) and Nineteen Minutes (by Jodi Picoult), both fictionalized stories about school shootings, seemed to come from headlines in the years 2005-2008 or thereabouts. Several novels about autistic children have come out in the last 5 years or so too, as autism awareness has become a growing cause. No coincidence, right?

It makes sense to me that fiction reflects our culture; art follows life, yes? But I get a little bit frustrated with this theme. This theme in particular, or just the repetition of a theme? Well, I can get a little impatient with this particular theme in life (the real world); I’m not anxious to be a parent and fail to empathize with that (seemingly, majority) portion of the world that is. So I’m impatient with it in my reading life, too. But repetition is annoying as well. It’s getting to the point where I feel I need to avoid it when picking out reading material, just to get out of a rut.

What do you think? Am I nuts? Is there no trend? (Insert Freudian remark about my biological clock here?) Or is there a trend, and if so how do you feel about it?

Politico-disclaimer: I’ve tried not to make this a rant of my own opinions on “the issues.” If you’re interested in my rant 🙂 I’ve provided it for you, as briefly as possible, below. If you’d rather avoid (most of) the political angle on this post… stop here.

Briefly (if possible), and in the interest of satisfying your curiosity or confusion on my stances:

I am vehemently pro-choice. The folks who call themselves “pro-life” are not, in my opinion, pro-life at all; they are anti-choice. Lots of people have written very intelligent defenses of this position, so I don’t feel the need to spend a lot of time on this. It’s self-evident to me that women should have control over their bodies and reproductive futures, and to deny them that right is unjust.

I don’t want to have children. I think there are far too many people on this earth; if we don’t cause it to implode and kill every living thing on it, including ourselves, it will be miraculous. There are lots of unwanted babies on the planet; if you want to raise one, please do, but please don’t make more. I think reproduction in today’s world is a politically and socially irresponsible act, and it affects all of us, not just the two parents or extended family.

That said, I have lots of friends who are having babies (some of them at great effort and expense), and I’m not personally angry with any of them. I can’t really get my head around their desire to reproduce, but they’re my friends. I’m happy when they’re happy; when they’re happy to reproduce, I’m happy for them, but from a few steps away.

Filed under: book reviews, musings | Tagged: , , | 1 Comment »

NOLA: thankfully, a phoenix

Posted on April 25, 2011 by pagesofjulia

I spent last weekend in New Orleans, Louisiana with my parents, celebrating my father’s birthday. It was a milestone one, but I’ll leave the numbers out in case he’d prefer it that way. 🙂 The Husband didn’t get to join us because he had a different celebration going on: his parents were celebrating a milestone anniversary. What a weekend! Congrats and happy birthdays all around.

I’ve never had such a lovely time in New Orleans. It was one high point after another. I left work early on Friday to get there in the early evening, and walked Bourbon Street with the folks and had a delicious dinner at NOLA, one of Emeril’s restaurants. Saturday morning was my father’s big birthday event, the Crescent City Classic 10k race, a very big and very big-deal race through the French Quarter and out to City Park. I ran with Pops to the start and ran around a bit til the race came by where I was stationed on Rampart, and even jumped in to run a few blocks with him – I’m not a runner, really, but had a nice run myself while he had a very HOT but ultimately successful race. Next was breakfast with my mother, walking the French market, and then lunch with all three of us together again.

Then we went to the Louisiana State Museum to see their Katrina exhibit. This is difficult to describe. According to the National Hurricane Center, Hurricane Katrina caused close to 2000 deaths when it hit Louisiana in August of 2005, and in the weeks of aftermath, including flooding and major loss of services. As a Houstonian, I was only indirectly affected; I had friends who evacuated, and I made new friends, as some New Orleanian evacuees stayed in Houston. Searching various sources tells me that my city absorbed the largest number; NPR claimed in 2007 that over 90,000 New Orleanians were still living in Houston. I’ve visited NO all my life, and certainly was aware of appallingly great suffering and the recovery that has been taking place ever since. I’ve traveled back to NO a number of times since 2005 – including for my honeymoon in 2008 – and I’ve seen how well the city is doing; but I’ve also seen that things are not the same as they were, and they never can be. I’ve seen the high water marks on the freeway walls – several stories up.


But I hadn’t taken any of the “Katrina tours” offered, and this was my first museum exhibit. It was beyond powerful. There were photographs, interviews, objects & artifacts, text, interactive educational displays (mostly relating to the “forensics” of how the destruction of wetlands contributes to flooding, the myriad ways in which levees can fail, hurricane formation, etc.), and multimedia displays, audio and video recordings of folks telling their stories. I cried. I promise you would cry too.

I think this exhibit should be required for visitors to New Orleans. This event will never cease to be deeply relevant to everyone’s experience of the city; the horror that took place, and the efforts necessary to rebuild and recover, are an important part of the city’s culture and what it has to offer today. I love this city and its people, the great food, the friendly attitudes, the art, the extraordinary live music, the irreverence and the unapologetic, frank approach to the party lifestyle. It’s a very unique culture, and I’m glad it’s back, although in a slightly different incarnation.

When we left the museum after this intense and emotional experience, it was time for a change of pace. We took a streetcar out of the Quarter to a pub my father had found. It was just our kind of place: long beer list of obscure and diverse beers with quirky, knowledgeable, friendly staff. We camped out there for most of the rest of the day, and I got to drink a bottle of De Drie Fonteinen Schaerbeekse Kriek!! My father and I visited this brewery years ago, and I wrote about it for the newsletter of the liquor store I worked for at the time, and golly, there’s a picture floating around here somewhere of me with the brewer… it’s a very, very rare bottle to find, and it was very exciting to me to find it in NO – and very yummy to drink! (This was only one of many exciting and delicious finds.)

We left the Avenue Pub (highly recommended) late in the evening, and caught the streetcar back into the Quarter for some live music. We watched a sidewalk act for a while and then settled at Cafe Beignet to watch Steamboat Willie’s band play. Both were outstanding! I settled in feeling very content with my weekend.

On Sunday morning, on our way out of town, Pops took us by a statue he’d seen after Saturday morning’s race. It’s a memorial, in the spirit of New Orleans: using color and whimsy to commemorate a tragedy. Like singing at a funeral. It’s called the Scrap House, by Sally Heller, and is part of a commission by the Art Council of New Orleans of public art. Made of recycled materials, it depicts a little bayou shack stuck in the top of a tree.

We stopped on the way home at the Cafe des Amis in Breaux Bridge. This was another outstanding meal – I recommend the Crawfish Cornbread!

And finally, the bookish news: I finished Jacqueline Winspear’s A Lesson in Secrets, started Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca (review to come), and listened to the audio of Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five in the car with the parents on the way home (review also to come, but for now I’ll say WOW! like I do for all of Vonnegut’s work).

I’ve never had such a lovely time in the beautiful Crescent City. It has so much to offer. If you’ve never seen New Orleans, now’s the time. Be sure you go to the Louisiana State Museum (right on Jackson Square), and be sure you bring a handkerchief. Thanks Mom & Pops for a beautiful weekend.

Edit: Pops found the picture of me with Armand. Thanks Pops!

Julia at Drie Fonteinen w/ brewer Armand Debelder, Jan. 2006

Filed under: a walk about town, musings | Tagged: , | 4 Comments »

an anniversary.

Posted on April 19, 2011 by pagesofjulia

Just a quick note to say that three years ago today, the Man became the Husband, and I am so very thrilled with my good luck. Thanks for three beautiful years – here’s to many, many more.

I love you Husband.

Filed under: miscellaneous | Tagged: | 4 Comments »

Ouachita Challenge

Posted on April 11, 2011 by pagesofjulia

Friends, I’ve had a hard time getting around to writing this race report. It didn’t go all that outstandingly well for me, and I’m a bit embarrassed and humbled. And I’ve been struggling with how to describe my experience without doing too much whining or making too many excuses. I’m not a fan of excuses. I think they come naturally to all of us, myself included, but I TRY to refrain from singing them too loudly or constantly, because such behavior, in others, strikes me as an annoying failure to take responsibility for one’s own performances. I find that the best, the fastest, the strongest bike racers out there (and the best people in general) are those who quietly allow their performances to speak for them rather than trying to explain themselves into a better light. I’m not the best, the fastest or the strongest, but hopefully I’ll get better.

Okay so. Let me start with a brief explanation of events leading up to the Ouachita Challenge, and I’ll try to go as light on the excuses as possible.

The story starts last fall, when I burned out (after a very busy, fairly successful spring season that I tried to carry through summer and fall) on bike racing and gave myself permission to take a big, fat break. This big fat break quickly became the longest I’d ever been off the bike, and I trained for and ran a 5k with my Pops which was great, and it was generally good to have a break. But these breaks are hard to come back from! which may be why I don’t take them much. I had some issues with motivation and some issues with the major infected saddle sore of my career. January and February saw me fitfully riding amidst difficulties. The spring in general was a bit busy because I took a grad course on top of my usual work, etc.

The Husband and I signed up together to race the Ouachita Challenge, back in December or thereabouts. This is a big-deal marathon mountain bike race in the Ouachita National Forest in northeast Arkansas. Registration opens at 1am on a Tuesday or something and sells out in about 10 minutes, so you have to plan ahead. We got our spots secured months ahead of time and from there largely counted down woefully while observing what good shape we weren’t in. In the final month before the race I got sick twice. Imagine a sinking feeling in your stomach. Yep.

We drove to Arkansas in two days, taking time to stop off in Tyler to ride the trails at the Tyler State Park. I’d never ridden these trails before (being thwarted by rain the last time we tried). They’re great fun! Swoopy, fast, flowy, and really beautiful. I had a good time there. We headed into Arkansas on Saturday to ride part of the course.

By this time I had worked myself up into a state of panic over this race. I was heading into what might be the biggest, hardest event of my career, in what I felt was the worst shape of my career. I think the worst part, though, is the fear of the unknown: I knew nothing about the trails we’d be riding, so I really didn’t know how bad it would be. I was pretty terrified.

So to pre-ride, we tackled what we were told was the hardest, most technical part of the race. It was fairly demoralizing; Blowout Mountain is, well, it’s a mountain, and we don’t have those where I come from. It was also pretty technical, periodically covered in rock gardens that I did not find to be rideable. Chris and our buddy Rob might have been more upset at the unrideable rock gardens than I was, though – I am fairly familiar with race courses that require me to get off my bike occasionally, but these tough guys aren’t, so much. What I was most worried about was the climbing! I was gasping for air and continuing to feel terrified.

Race morning I felt resigned to do what I had to do. I didn’t have any feeling of excitement or anticipated enjoyment or even competitive spirit; I just felt that I needed to steel myself to a grand slog of pain. Chris and I had pre-ordered commemorative 10th anniversary event jerseys (not cheap) and I was determined to NOT wear my jersey unless I finished the event. Maybe it’s silly, but this was actually a pretty big piece of motivation for me.

So. After that long intro, I wonder if you’re still with me. I think my race report will be the shortest part of this race report! It went: paved road, followed by dirt road, gently climbing, maybe 8-10 miles. First singletrack, more climbing, less gentle. First checkpoint: I see Rob’s girlfriend Lisa; she cheers for me; I’m doing less badly at this point than I’d feared. I give her thumbs up. Then we hit Blowout Mountain, and yes, it’s at least as bad as it was yesterday. Argh! Come down Blowout: fun! I like to descend, and this is some fun, flowy descending, just enough rock to be interesting without having to slow down too much. More climbing. (I don’t know the names of all these mountains.) More suck. Then we hit the road again (paved, then dirt) – this is the transition between the Ouachita Trail (famously technical, climby, and hard) and the Womble Trail (famously fun and flowy). We have epic headwind; people are suffering; but I actually pass a few people here, feeling okay. Apparently I’m not entirely reformed from my roadie past, because at this point I feel like: please give me another 50 miles of headwind-road and NO MORE CLIMBING. (Later I hear Chris felt the same way at this point. Houstonians have much more experience with headwind than we do hills, let alone mountains!) Hit the Womble Trail, which I’m told is the fun part; ride some Womble feeling like okay, this is fun trail, but I am TIRED. Hear we’re only halfway done. Feel unhappy about this news. More climbing! I know climbing is relative: if somebody from Austin tells you something is “flat” and you live in Houston, you should not trust this data. Maybe the mountain-dwellers feel that the Womble is not so climby but I was hurting. I cramped starting on Blowout Mountain (early in the day) and by the last 15 miles of the race, I was cramping in my fingers, toes, back, abs, arms and of course every muscle in my legs. I think my kidneys cramped. I drank about 2 1/2 gallons of water over the course of the day, most of it electrolyte-enhanced, and ate a fair amount too; but it was the hottest day I’d seen all year (it hit 95 degrees) and it just wasn’t enough. Also, I was nauseous at the start line (I was getting sick again, but it was probably mostly nerves) and all the way to the finish – all day, nauseous, and therefore not eating or drinking as much as I would have liked. I hit a checkpoint at which I was told I had 14 miles to go, and I really thought I was closer to the finish than that, which is demoralizing. Those last 14 miles were really a mental battle. I had to get off the bike and walk out a cramp once or twice; I was talking to myself (I’m pretty sure it wasn’t out loud). I was thinking about that stupid jersey, of all things! The last, oh, 2 miles or so are small town roads (mostly dirt), and I felt that I was close, but still just had to tell myself to grind along…

There were time cut-offs at several check-points on this race – not unusual for marathon racing. But this was the first time I’d been concerned about them. I failed to put a watch on my handlebars when we left Houston, so we stopped on the drive up and bought me a little digital bracelet-style watch for $5 at a gas station. I wanted to watch out for the time cut-offs (if you’re going too slow, they don’t let you finish), and I also wanted to finish in 8 hours. Well, I made every time cut-off, but by less and less at each one. In those final miles, I knew I would be allowed to finish, so I just had to make myself do it. As I approached the school where the race started and finished, I looked at my watch and saw 3:58pm (since we’d started at 8, 4pm was my 8-hour time). I crossed the road to the school… and the volunteers said, “just up that hill!” What!! A HILL! Argh! I got off to walk up the hill. I couldn’t ride. What can I say, I’m a weakling; I’m fat and out of shape. I had done so much walking all day (up the sides of mountains, through rock gardens) that my cycling shoes (old and worn, but also just not intended for walking this much) had chewed the skin off my heels in silver-dollar-sized spots. Walking hurt, but I couldn’t ride it. So I’m hobbling up the hill to the finish… with an audience (great)… 3:59… and they’re yelling, “30 seconds to make it under 8 hrs! 20 seconds!”

walking up TINY hill to finish. photo courtesy of Lisa. thanks Lisa


Well, I made it. I think my official time was 7:59:49. Not only Chris, my loving and caring Husband, but also our friends Rob, Holt, and Lisa had waited to see me finish. This meant a lot; Rob and Holt had finished their race just minutes under 6 hours, so they had really spent some time there to show their support. I wasn’t able to say it at the finish, of course, but it was very touching; I really felt the love. I hobbled around the finish area til I thought I could sit without cramping, and I got out of those shoes immediately.

It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I really feel like it nearly killed me. But I wanted to be able to wear my jersey! And now, I can! (I wore it the very next time I got on my bike.) This race was harder than I thought it would be. Worst shape of my racing life, yes. But I think even in decent race shape, the climbing of mountains is extranormal for a power-based, anti-climber from Houston, TX like myself. I’m not sure I’d do this race again unless I was prepared to travel to train on actual mountains ahead of time. But I’m so very glad I did it. Even at an embarrassingly slow finish time, this is an experience no one will take away from me. Next up: I want to run a half marathon this year! Glutton for pain, that’s me. Thanks for bearing with this unreasonably long write-up. See you on the road or trail.

Filed under: musings | Tagged: , , | 2 Comments »

a promise of things to come

Posted on April 6, 2011 by pagesofjulia

Hello friendly blog-readers. I hope you’ll forgive me for some place-holder posts this week. Briefly, I’ll tell you what’s going on…

Last weekend the Husband and I traveled to Arkansas to compete in the Ouachita Challenge, a 60-mile marathon mountain bike race on the Ouachita and Womble Trails in the Ouachita National Forest. I’ve raced, oh, 6 or 8 marathon mountain bike races, but I have to tell you, this one is in another league. It honestly nearly killed me, but I finished it, and I’m not recovered yet! I do intend to write up my experience, although I don’t know where my race report will end up just yet. Maybe here; maybe over at my personal/cycling website, maybe even in The Racing Post, who knows. I’ll announce it here when I get to it.

The next thing is that this coming Saturday marks the end of my semester-long class in Database Searching. It’s been a really great class – it’s kept me interested and engaged and actually looking forward to Saturday morning classes, which is saying a lot. I’m so glad I’m taking it. But, that said, the final paper and presentation due this week are stressing me out a bit. I feel the need to devote my time to schoolwork this week rather than to much blogging.

I did read Love You More by Lisa Gardner on the trip, and we listened to two audiobooks: The Pied Piper by Ridley Person, and Shoot Him If He Runs by Stuart Woods. So, I have a few musings to write up for you when I find the time. I’m also about halfway through The Mapping of Love and Death by Jacqueline Winspear now (I still get to read on my lunch hour, you know!) but that one is scheduled for next Monday the 11th, in sync with Book Club Girl‘s read-along.

So this is my plea: stick with me for a few days of hecticness, and next week, I’ll be back on track!

Filed under: musings | Tagged: , , | Leave a comment »

How To Blog (I’m still learning, myself)

Posted on March 15, 2011 by pagesofjulia

Today I was fascinated by a post I found on Eva’s blog, A Striped Armchair. (By the way, welcome back Eva! Missed you!) A commenter asked her about how she composes posts – mostly, how quickly, and with how much editing. This question caught my attention because I was asked the same thing recently (out loud, in the real world, but still). My answer is similar to Eva’s: I mostly write off the cuff, and almost always publish in the same session as I compose. But that’s in the nature of my blog; I intended it to be about my personal responses to the world, mostly books, but occasionally other stuff, too. I (try to) always check first for typos and broken links, but generally I then click “publish” and move on. This is not my full-time job.

Interrelated to this question, for Eva, is the question of whether she “reviews” or “recommends” books. This question spoke to me as well. I conceived of a reading blog initially while taking a class in Readers Advisory services – meaning, the service librarians provide in helping readers find books they might enjoy. This art-science involves listening to what readers have enjoyed in the past, and seeking books that share similar qualities. It definitively excludes making a personal judgment or statement about these books. I enjoyed my Readers Advisory class (the second I’ve taken in fact) and love the idea of the service; but as it turns out, my blog never really went that way. Because this is my personal space, I like to keep my voice, and it just feels natural to tell you how I feel about the books I read.

I follow about 40 blogs, ideally checking in every day. These are mostly reading blogs (a few writing blogs, and one or two miscellaneous/funny ones I just can’t resist). And the ones I enjoy most are the ones in which I can hear a (preferably hilarious and/or thoughtful and reflective) personal voice describing that reader’s reaction to a book or a life event. I find real people and personal reactions far more interesting than clinical book reviews. Perhaps that’s part of why I’m comfortable letting my personal perspective live in my blog.

Eva directs her readers to another post here, in which The Boston Bibliophile debates the appropriateness of a personal voice in a bibliophile’s blog. I don’t disagree one bit with her conclusion to keep her personal life out of her blog. I mean, golly, in a world of blogs, personal websites (I have one of those, too), facebook, twitter, and the rest, I fully support someone seeking a little privacy. And maybe The Boston Bibliophile has other reasons for keeping that blog a bit anonymous; she does mention that she has another, private, more personal blog for friends & family. All of that makes sense to me, for her.

But for me, it makes sense to do it this way. For example, to respond to one of The BB’s questions, yes, I think one’s religious sensibilities does color our reading of at least those books that overtly involve religion. Every book I read is filtered through my own set of experiences, beliefs, and understandings of the world; how could it possibly be otherwise? Since I’m not speaking for a corporation or anything, I feel most comfortable recognizing my own perspective when I write about books. I find other bloggers’ “reviews” (or recommendations) most interesting when they involve the personal. But, I’d never seen The BB’s blog before today. Maybe I’ll find it fascinating; I’m not judging, but merely responding to the two above posts.

Thank you to Eva and The Boston Bibliophile for giving me the chance to consider my style here at pagesofjulia. These are my pages, and I’m comfortable with the influence of julia on them, but it’s always a good idea to think one’s position through!

Filed under: musings | Tagged: , | 5 Comments »

back from the weekend, with very little reading, just a touch of Hemingway.

Posted on February 28, 2011 by pagesofjulia

Hello friends. Thanks for bearing with me. Life is busy. I have this job, see. And I’m taking this class in Database Searching which is fab but takes up time. And I’m trying to be back on this bike and train for the Ouachita Challenge, and we took that vacation, and, and. Thanks for bearing with me.

I had a great weekend, very productive. On Saturday I got to ride bikes with the Husband who made it home from Newark earlier than expected; we planted a tree and did some yard stuff; my mother brought us a beautiful quilt she made for us; and I finally photographed for you of a beautiful set of bookshelves the Husband made (several weeks ago now). Pictures:

Mother and Husband with swamp cypress oak and whimsical wheelbarrow herb garden


whimsical wheelbarrow herb garden with dragonfly


Encyclopaedia Britannica bookshelves, courtesy of Husband (please ignore electronic mess)


close-up Encyclopaedia Britannica shelves


beautiful "union" t-shirt quilt courtesy of Mother


This is an elaborate, beautifully crafted quilt made up of (cycling) event t-shirts belonging to the Husband and myself. It is our wedding gift (we will soon be married 3 years, this is not a fast process) from my Mother and it’s a “union” quilt because it symbolizes our union, combining our two histories of bicycle racing as it does. It’s so lovely, we don’t know what to do with the little dogs who like to muss up bedcoverings.

close-up of quilt: notice Chihuahuan Desert Challenge (earlier incarnation of the trip we just took to Big Bend) and above, the Warda Race (earlier incarnation of the race I did yesterday)

Aren’t I a lucky girl? And that was Saturday.

Yesterday – Sunday – I headed out to race Bikesport Presents the Warda Race. Without boring you too much (hopefully), I will say that I have gotten fat & out of shape while being off the bike for an unexpectedly long time this past fall & winter, and I knew this race would be a rude awakening. So, I did the reasonable thing and signed up for not the Category 2 Men, not the Category 1 Women, but the Pro Women’s race. This got me an extra lap of pain and suffering and embarrassment in my currently-undersized spandex. It went as expected. But, this kind of pain and suffering is going to get me back on track. I’m now less than 5 weeks away from the Ouachita Challenge, so it’s time to get to work.

This busy, productive, and happy weekend did not leave time for much reading. I don’t think I did any reading, in fact. So today I’m back on By-Line: Ernest Hemingway, and very happy to be. I shall make a few bookish remarks so this blog doesn’t seem too much a sham, ok?

I really enjoy reading Hemingway’s short articles and dispatches. I can’t believe it took me this long to pick up on this little pleasure. I have always loved him and have devoured all his novels, several of his nonfiction works (and I think you really have to love Hemingway to get through Death in the Afternoon – or bull-fighting, perhaps – but I actually did enjoy it), and I THINK I’ve read all his short stories – I’ve got a collection of collections. But somehow this collection of his journalism has eluded me til now.

These are short pieces of writing, covering his international travels, war and international politics, fishing, hunting, and general lifestyle. It seems that then, as now, this man’s life was of some interest; he had outrageous adventures (how much he’s elaborated or exaggerated them, would be a subject for another post) and saw outrageous sights. Hemingway’s fiction was heavily based on fact, and I fear his journalism might be tinged with fiction, especially where the Exploits of Papa are concerned. This is one of the mysteries and controversies of Hemingway. It may not be a popular feminist position to take, but I adore Hemingway for his work, even if he wasn’t a savory character – let alone a good husband. To any of his wives.

I was contemplating today, as I read some hunting-and-fishing stories he wrote for Esquire, that one of the Hemingway’s most beautiful and rare talents, is that he makes me care about things I don’t care about. I don’t care for hunting or fishing. These activities are not interesting to me; and in some cases I find hunting downright distasteful. But when Hemingway describes the way a fish, or a bird, moves, or the battle between the fisherman and his prey a la The Old Man and the Sea, or when he describes the experience of the bottle of icy cold white wine he’s had stuck down in the cold trout stream all day – I can taste the wine, and I care about the fish. He makes me taste and feel things very vibrantly, even things I’ve never experienced. He’s a very visceral writer.

In the same way, I’ve always said one of my favorite things about the Drive-by Truckers is their ability to make me care about things I don’t care about. For example, car racing is not interesting to me. But just about every time I hear a recording of them playing Daddy’s Cup (and I’ve heard it a lot), I cry. Take a moment and listen, yourself. (The video portion of this video is just filler. You’re there for the audio. Close your eyes.)

I’ve even sent the Husband (who does care about fishing) a short article by Hemingway to read, and the Husband, who doesn’t read, did enjoy it. The Husband prefers to DO things rather than sit around and read about them (we don’t watch movies, because two hours is too long to sit down – I love that he’s a do-er), but perhaps he can appreciate that Hemingway makes his reader feel the action, the doing of it.

I may be moving slowly these days, but a nice compilation like this, of short stories, or newspaper articles, or what have you, is just the thing for a part-time reader. Thanks for bearing with me and my busy life, and have a happy Monday!

Filed under: book reviews, musings | Tagged: , , , , | 4 Comments »

« Previous Page — Next Page »