Remembering Carl

Ruth and her brothers, taken February 2000. From left to right: Keith, David, Ruth, Carl, Bob

Today would have been my oldest brother Carl's 66th birthday. The photo above was taken with a set of family portraits on my dad's 85th birthday because we didn't know how much longer Dad would be with us. In fact, we lost Carl first. He died in early December that year of an abdominal aortic aneurysm. He was only 58.

I'm thinking about him today. He was always so worried about whether he would be able to afford retirement because he hadn't put anything aside. He didn't live long enough for it to be a problem. He wanted very much to go to Ireland, and he didn't live to do that either.

I don't know why it's bothering me so much this year. Maybe because he would have been retirement age by now, maybe because I'm finally in my 50s, the decade he didn't survive.

All I know is that I'm thinking of Ace today. (Ace was his nickname because he played cards a lot when he was in the navy.) I was his treasured baby sister (16 years difference), and I really wish he could give me one of his hugs.

Write to Marry Day

Today many bloggers are writing about a single topic: the right of gays and lesbians to marry.

As I said in an earlier post, homosexuality is mentioned only a handful of times in the Bible. Many scholars believe that those references were discussing the specific practice of temple prostitution, not homosexual relations as they exist today. I personally agree with the interpretation that the Biblical injunction against homosexuality was part of a larger holiness code that we have discarded in many instances.

I also believe that modern research into the nature of sexual orientation justifies a rethinking of the traditional church stand against homosexuality. Homosexual orientation is not something that people consciously choose, nor is it something that can be changed. This is not something that the ancient people who wrote our Bible understood. Now that we do realize this, it only makes sense to re-examine the teachings about homosexuality.

Many churches seem to offer our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters only one way to live a holy life--remain celibate. But just because a person is attracted to the same sex doesn't automatically give them the calling of celibacy. Therefore, because I think it is only right for all people to have the same options to live in a committed, loving relationship that I have, I support gay marriage. I believe that this is what Jesus would do if he were on earth today.

I also recommend that you read this post by my good friend Choralgirl. In it, she expresses what it is like not to have her marriage recognized by society at large. I found it very moving.

If you are in a state that is considering banning gay and lesbian marriage, I urge you to vote against that proposition. The desire of gays and lesbians to be in a legally sanctioned, lifelong relationship doesn't threaten heterosexual marriage in any way. If anything, it will increase the stability of our society by creating more security for people in committed relationships. And isn't love and commitment a good thing to promote?

It Works for Me

I grew up in a very conservative, traditional church, and I expected to marry, have children, and be a stay-at-home mom. That was what I wanted more than any professional achievement.

But life didn't work out that way. The first time I fell in love, it turned out disastrously. I didn't allow myself to be vulnerable that way again until my late twenties, and then I chose a relationship even more hurtful than the first. Fortunately, the third time really is the charm and my third attempt at love was when I dated Michael.

However, I was already 31 when we married. And when, after we'd been married for a few years, we tried to start a family, we found out that we had virtually no chance of having children.

So I have more or less worked nonstop since I was 22. I've never had the experience of being a mother or a full-time homemaker. I've never been supported by a man since the day I moved out of my parents' home.

Because of that, I used to idealize what it would be like to be a full-time homemaker or mother . . . or a full-time fiction writer However, lately, I've discovered an unexpected truth about myself. I like working. I like feeling needed and knowing that I am contributing to society. I like being able to stretch my intellect and my creativity on a daily basis. Earlier this year, when I had five weeks of having no paid assignments to work on, I felt really upset. It wasn't just the financial uncertainty. It was the lost of my identity as a working person.

What made me thing about all this is that I started my new assignment yesterday. It's supposed to keep me busy more-or-less full time until the end of March. One thing is different about this job. Usually, I am hired to do freelance writing or editing, and I'm paid by the page. This time I'm being paid by the hour. That makes it feel more like a "job" than a freelance assignment, and I have very mixed feelings about that aspect of the situation. I've been struggling with some anxiety about my time not being my own and about having to put in X number of hours a week.

But after putting in my first full day, I can say again that I like having work to do. I enjoy being able to do jobs that I know I'm good at and that provide a helpful service for society. I'm glad to be busy again.

So how do you feel about work? Do you love it? Hate it? Think that it would be great if you could just have a different job? Do you define yourself by it at all?

I'd really like to know.

Cedarburg, WI

Because we couldn't afford a vacation this year, we decided to take a couple of day trips. Yesterday, we went to Cedarburg, WI, which is a small town of 11,000 people just north of Milwaukee. Cedarburg is notable for still having many historic stone buildings, including a mill and a forge (both converted to other uses now). Because of its quaint atmosphere, it attracts a lot of tourists. We did some shopping--purchased a birthday present and our first Christmas present (we give to 8 grand-nieces and grand-nephews every year). And we ate a good lunch in the building that used to be the forge.

I took the following photos as we wandered around town. I'm posting them without comment except to note that the former bank (which now houses a business) still has its old alarm attached to the building. I thought that was interesting.

I'm starting my new assignment today, so I don't know how much blogging time I'll have. I'll catch you when I can.

P.S. If you want to enlarge any photos (such as the sign), just click on them.

Russian Tea Time

Michael's oldest sister took me out for a belated 50th birthday lunch yesterday. We went to a restaurant in downtown Chicago called Russian Tea Time. The room was decorated with samovars and lots of Russian posters. (I took only a few photographs because I didn't want to make a fool of myself.)

I ate borscht (shown below) and pumpernickel as appetizers.




For the main course, I had Uzbek vegetarian "layer" stew, or Domlama. This is the description from the menu:

A vegetarian must: a delightful and succulent stew of potatoes, carrots, turnips, beets, tomatoes, garlic, red peppers and cabbage and a touch of cumin. The secret to this great dish is that we put all the vegetables in layers, and while they simmer for quite some time, each of the ingredients fully absorbs flavors of all the other.

It was delicious. Very garlicky though. The portion was so large that I could eat only half of it, so I have the rest for lunch tomorrow.

Finally, we drank a ton of tea in these Russian tea glasses. It was a delicious, strong current-flavored tea, and they kept refilling the glasses as soon as you'd drink about an inch. I have no idea how much I consumed. Good thing it wasn't vodka!



Oh, and Rita made me eat dessert. I had Klara’s Homemade Apricot and Plum Strudel: Strudel with Fruit Jam, walnuts, lemon and our homemade crust; served with berry sauce. It was really good--not too sweet.

It was a wonderful treat, and except for the strudel, I was able to make pretty healthy choices. If you're ever in Chicago, you might want to check it out.

Early Voting

We voted yesterday. We chose to do it early because we'd heard that some states have been purging voter rolls, so we wanted to give ourselves plenty of time in case there was an issue. I've also read that some places are experiencing delays and long lines because of new voting machines, so that was another reason to go early.

We didn't encounter any problems, but just in case you do, here is an article with tips on what to do.

We cast the 521 and 522 votes in our little municipality of 20,o00. (In the last mayoral election, only 2,000 votes were cast, so it's fairly impressive that we've already reached 25 percent of that number.)

It felt a little odd to be voting early. In the past, knowing that millions of people are voting on the same day has always been a communal experience. However, I am glad that there are more options for people now.

One thing surprised me. I found it a very emotional experience to vote for such a historic candidate. I didn't expect to get teary-eyed in the voting booth.

Considering everything that's at stake, let's make this a historic turnout, huh?

SAD

I walked out on the deck and shot these photos this morning:

I have Seasonal Affective Disorder. During the fall, I always struggle with depression because of the waning light. It hasn't been quite as bad as usual this year because I'm still working in the garden, but I can still feel it. If I'm not careful, I'll gain weight over the winter because I crave carbs and fats to make up for the lack of light. (I don't know the scientific reason: I just know it happens.)

A week or so ago, I bought a new floor lamp with a light therapy bulb, so I'm sitting under it for about 30 minutes every morning. When it's on full strength, it gives enough light to help counteract the symptoms. Then it dims so it can be used the rest of the day. (If you use it too much, it can affect your mood the other way.) I've also found that taking B complex with choline helps.

Do any of you struggle with SAD?

Additional Thoughts About Poverty

I've been thinking more about poverty since Blog Action Day, and I decided to examine the topic from another angle.

As I mentioned last week, I've been having some time off before I start my next writing assignment, and during this time, I've been getting a lot accomplished. I still have a lot that I could do in the garden, but I've cleaned it up enough that I could live with going into the winter this way if I had to. And I'm making progress on my novel revision.

Earlier this year, I had a five-week period of having no work. It was during the months of March and April, so it would have been a great time for me to do some of the basic spring gardening work, but I didn't do it. I didn't do very much on my novel either. What energy I had was devoted to trying to find writing jobs and trying to stretch our budget, and at the end of every day, I was weary from dealing with the stress.

Later in the spring, even after we started getting a string of steady small assignments, I didn't make much effort on either my garden or my novel. During all that time, I continued to have a low level of anxiety about our finances and our job assignments because even though we were working hard, we weren't earning as much as we needed to be. And when a person is scared about basic survival, it's difficult to expend energy on non-essential creative outlets.

Compared to many people, we haven't had that bad a year, and to even relate it to survival fear is an exaggeration. Yet the slow year we've experienced did give me some insight into the emotional cost of economic troubles. For people who have to struggle with poverty every day, life is a constant grind. Multiply my experience by two or three times the amount of anxiety, and the result can be paralyzing.

When you're exhausted and stressed out from trying to pay for the latest medical test or make the mortgage, you don't have enough energy to give your life an economic makeover. You're in survival mode and all you can do is try to keep up with your expenses, not get ahead. That's why it's so hard for people who are in poverty to "pull themselves up by the bootstraps." They're living out a real-life monopoly game in which the moment they pass GO and collect their $200, they land on some property with a hotel and have to fork out more than twice times that amount in rent. When a person doesn't have enough resources to start with, the smallest extra expense can seem like a real catastrophe.

Even if we can't feel compassion for the individuals in that situation, let's look pragmatically at the effect of poverty on society. Twelve percent of the U.S. population is below the poverty line. (That statistic comes from the CIA World Factbook.) That means that one in eight Americans is struggling to get by. And if my own experience is any indication, the stress and worry that come with economic uncertainty can rob people of creativity and initiative.

Can this country really afford to blow off the potential creativity and initiative of 12 percent of its people? Personally, I think we need for everyone to live free from the fear of hunger or bankruptcy due to catastrophic illness. I think "spreading the wealth" and providing health care will help us to have a higher percentage of productive, contributing citizens, and that's why I don't mind hearing politicians propose "socialist" policies (although I would argue that they are using the term incorrectly). I think having a strong safety net is not only good for the individuals involved, it's better for society as a whole too.

I Sought the Lord

We sang this hymn on Sunday, and I love the words. I can't find an MP3 clip with the tune that we sing, but even without the music, the words are beautiful.

I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew
he moved my soul to seek him, seeking me;
it was not I that found, O Savior true;
no, I was found of thee.

Thou didst reach forth thy hand and mine enfold;
I walked and sank not on the storm-vexed sea;
'twas not so much that I on thee took hold,
as thou, dear Lord, on me.

I find, I walk, I love, but oh, the whole
of love is but my answer, Lord, to thee;
for thou wert long beforehand with my soul,
always thou lovedst me.

Dog Parables, Part XIII: Submitting to Healing

Smokey has a tendency to get ear infections. If he gets water in his ear, yeast infections can start to grow in his ear canal. The last time it happened, it took weeks to get the infection cleaned out. To prevent the problem, I am supposed to clean out his ears twice a week. I use a slightly acidic solution and cotton balls, twisted into long screws as shown.

I have to put drops directly into his ear canal, rub the area behind and beneath his ear, and then shove those cotton screws as deep into his ears as I can to blot out the moisture.

Smokey really does NOT like this procedure. Both the drops and the cotton are uncomfortable for him. But even when he sees me holding the cotton balls and the bottle of solution, he will come when I call him and sit down obediently in front of me and submit to the cleaning. He does try to twist his head away, but he doesn't run from me the way he used to.

The other day, I was thinking about things in my own life that have grown out of control, just like the yeast in Smokey's ears. In my late twenties, I had an obsessive crush on a man I knew was unhealthy for me. I've had workaholic periods on my old job, when I took on too many responsibilities because I had a complex about "saving" overwhelming situations. I've had addictions to buying clothes and eating comfort food.

Anytime I've had to go through a time of healing for one of these issues, the process has been uncomfortable. Usually, I put off tackling the issue as long as I possibly can . . . until I just can't stand living with the problem any longer.

Watching Smokey come and sit in front of me and allow me to root around in his ear canal to keep the yeast from growing again, I found myself wondering what lesson I might learn from this. Maybe by sitting and spending time with God each day, I'm allowing the Spirit to continually cleanse me to keep some of those old problems from recurring again. Perhaps it will even bring to light other impacted situations in my life that need more serious attention. But to make this really work, I need to be as willing to submit myself to my master as Smokey is.

The Past Is Safe

I read this Frederick Buechner quotation in my devotions this week, and I liked it enough to share it here:

I pick the children up at the bottom of the mountain where the orange bus lets them off in the wind. They run for the car like leaves blowing. Not for keeps, to be sure, but at least for the time being, the world has given them back again, and whatever the world chooses to do later on, it can never so much as lay a hand on the having-beenness of this time. The past is inviolate. We are none of us safe, but everything that has happened is safe. In all the vast and empty reaches of the universe it can never be otherwise than that when the orange bus stopped with its red lights blinking, these two children were on it. Their noses were running. One of them dropped a sweater. I drove them home.

from Alphabet of Grace

Friday Miscellaneous

This is just a little bit of a catch-up post.

Because of the small writing assignment I lost, I've had the last two weeks off. I needed the time. I've been sort of mentally fried because of the type of writing assignments I've had this summer--all very demanding.

We're having an exceptionally warm autumn in the Chicago region, with an unusually late frost. (Our average first frost date is about October 15. We haven't had one yet, and we're not predicted to have one for at least ten days.) Because of that, I've been able to spend about 15 hours working to clean up my poor neglected garden. Usually, I can't garden from August to frost because of weed pollen, but this year my allergies are so much better because of my dietary changes that I'm weeding like crazy . . . and hardly taking any allergy medicine in spite of all the pollen. Incredible.

I've also spent some time working on my novel revision. (The first draft of my third novel is finished, but I need to condense and polish it.) I have been neglecting that task, mostly because I'm spending so much time blogging, but the last week I started working on it again. It feels good, and I intend to keep at it now even if that means spending somewhat less time here.

After my Tuesday post, several people asked me about where I sponsor children in need. So just in case there was anyone who wondered but didn't ask, I'll give the information here:

I use Compassion International.

I use them because they are considered one of the most financially responsible. (Some groups spend too much money on administration. With Compassion, 80% goes to the children.) They are also great about keeping in touch. I get letters about four times a year and photos once a year, and I can send letters to my kids online. It's been fun. Asuman and I have had exchanges about how far Uganda is from "my district" and about comparing American football to soccer.

The cost to sponsor one child is $32 a month. If that's too much, Compassion also accepts one-time donations instead of ongoing sponsorships.

Finally, I'll leave you with a few more photos of our trip to the Chicago Botanic Garden from last week.

Have a good Friday.

P.S. The first comment by Nikkipolani reminded me that I meant to give you an update about Smokey. He's been on fish oil for three weeks and glucosamine for about two weeks, and he's tolerating both quite well. (He has a lot of digestive issues.) The doctor said he'd have to be on these meds 4 to 6 weeks to really have an effect on his joints, but he hasn't had a problem with his knee since September 30, so that in itself is a good thing. Oh, and his coat is so shiny now from the fish oil!

Consumerism Vs. Sustainability--and Roses

Most of you know I often post photographs of my roses. I have a story about my rose garden that illustrates something important about the economy, I think.

Six and a half years ago, I lost most of my roses to an especially rough winter. I wanted to find the names of varieties that would do better in my cold climate and also learn how to care for them better, so I joined a large gardening discussion forum. It had a sub-forum devoted exclusively to discussing roses, and a huge number of people participated, some of them for a couple of hours every day.

Some of the regular posters played a sort of game with each other called "enabling." The idea was to post the most beautiful photographs and the most enticing descriptions to convince each other to buy particular roses. Many of these people were addicted to buying new roses, and several times the conversation revolved around how to hide new purchases and credit card statements from spouses. It wasn't uncommon for people to expand their rose collection to 200 or 300 roses. Some people bought that many roses in just a few years.

Many of the most coveted varieties of roses were available only from mail-order or online nurseries. Their prices ranged anywhere from $9.00 to $27.00 apiece. Plus shipping. Rose gardeners also have to buy a lot of plant food, and many use expensive chemicals to fight the diseases that the plants are prone to get. Do the math, and I think you'll see that we're talking about astonishing amounts of money. It's quite easy to spend enough on a rose garden in three or four years to purchase a good used car.

When I first started taking part in the Rose Forum, I was shocked and disapproving of the gleeful way people described their addictions and tried to tempt others into joining them in buying hundred of roses. I swore that I wasn't going to succumb. But here's the thing. I didn't stop participating in the forum. I kept staring at those sumptious photographs and reading posts about how wonderful such and such a rose was. Pretty soon I started keeping a list of roses I'd like to grow. And I started buying.

Within four years, my rose garden grew from about a dozen bushes to 73. I let myself give into the consumerist mentality of acquisition for its own sake, and because of that, my beloved roses turned into a miserable chore.

The last two years, I have found it very difficult to keep up with my rose garden. It takes a couple of weeks just to do the spring pruning and feeding. Weeding, deadheading, watering, mid-summer feeding, spraying fungicide--all those tasks take enormous amounts of time. This year, I neglected all of the roses. I made sure they had enough water when the weather was dry, but other than that, I barely did a thing. That's not an exaggeration. It's now October 16, and some of them still haven't had their spring pruning.

Because I'm not taking proper care of them, I lost several last winter. They haven't had adequate feeding this year, and many have blackspot (a fungal disease that weakens them by causing them to lose the leaves that manufacture food), so I'm certain to lose more this winter. I find myself welcoming the attrition. I think if my garden shrunk to about two dozen roses, I would enjoy them again because I could care for them without it being a burden, and I wouldn't have to feel guilty about my neglect.

I think the mistake I made with my roses illustrates in microcosm one of the problems with the U.S. economy. It's predicated on the idea that we need to buy more and more things. Advertising, like my forum buddies, tries to convince us we need products that are really just overblown wants. We're told, "Whoever dies with the most toys wins."

But owning too much stuff comes with a price. Maintenance takes time and costs money. Plus, we have to protect ourselves from losing what we've acquired. Our stuff becomes a mental burden too because it causes us worry.

McMansions, Hummers, luxury cars, personal watercraft, the latest X-Box, on and on and on. There's no end to it, really, because none of these things truly satisfy our inner needs.

There must be a better way to keep a national economy strong and healthy than this constant push to make people buy things they don't need and can't afford. I don't know enough about economics to imagine what a better national economy could be, but I'd like to see some of our national leaders engage in that difficult conversation.

As for me, I need to tend my own garden—literally—and make it more manageable. And my wardrobe. And the amount of stuff in my house. I'm tired of being a target for all the enablers out there.

Blog Action Day

Today is Blog Action Day and thousands of bloggers around the world will unite to write about a single subject: poverty. My take on the subject will be personal, rather than a discussion of macro-economics.

Long ago, I took a class in college that brought to my attention the horrible disparity between the wealth enjoyed by most people in the United States and the amount of wealth enjoyed by many people in the rest of the world.

Here is a telling statistic—annual per capita GDP. (In simple terms, that means the annual national income divided by the number of people in the country. It's a measure of how much wealth is theoretically available to people if everyone in a nation shared it equally.) I'm listing some representative countries below. For a complete list, you can go here.

Zimbabwe--$200

Democratic Republic of Congo--$300

Liberia--$500

Somalia--$600

Ethiopia--$700

Rwanda--$800

Afghanistan--$1,000

Haiti--$1,200

Bangladesh--$1,400

Kenya--$1,700

United States of America--$45,800

Does that kind of disparity make you feel ashamed? That's the impact it has on me.

It's easy to be overwhelmed by statistics like these and to become paralyzed with the thought that there is nothing I can do. But we can all do something, and if we did, it would make a difference in this world. I've told this story before, but I'll repeat it now. When I was in my mid-twenties, I was considering taking a Caribbean vacation. But the thought of the huge income gap between rich and poor that exists in that part of the world troubled me. In the end, I decided I didn't want to feed the big corporations who ran the hotels and put together vacation packages, Instead, I realized that I'd rather feed a child. So I sponsored a child through Compassion International. They assigned me a boy in Haiti named Josue, and I sponsored him for 14 years until he reached adulthood. My actions did little to correct the economic injustices in that country, and yet . . . because of them, one person who might otherwise be still trapped in poverty received an education. He now works as a professional musician.

My husband and I have sponsored several other children throughout the years, and each of them has gained better nutrition and education at very little cost to us. Does this solve the problems of institutional poverty and global income disparity? No, but it does provide individuals with the tools they need to better their lives.

Even in these times of financial insecurity, most of us can do something--even if it is buying a few cans of food for a food panty. In fact, in times like these, it is more important to act than ever before.

If you still don't think such actions make much difference to anyone, let me leave you with at recent letter from one of the children we sponsor in Africa.

Dear Michael and Ruth,

How are you, my lovely friends, and all your family? I am writing to you this letter particularly to thank you for the Christmas gift which you sent for me and my family. (Ruth's note: Gifts are limited to $10.) I used this money to buy a trousers, shirt, a hen, and food and meat. Home is fine, and all my people are fine. I also take this opportunity to thank you for the birthday gift that you sent for me. I bought a hen, clothes, and food and meat. I celebrated my birthday and it was great fun. I am at school and doing well. Pray for me to continue doing well. May God bless you.

Asuman

It's been a tight year for Michael and me, but we are not cutting our support for Asuman or Doris from our budget.

Please consider what you can do to help eradicate poverty.

Mystery Vegetables and Lost Assignments

Can anyone identify this squash?

A friend gave it to me. She grew it in her garden, but she can't remember the variety. I've looked on the Internet, but I can't figure out what it is, so I'm stumped about how to cook it.

My friend gave me a Butternut squash too. Anyone recommendations for making that?

One reason I was feeling so anxious yesterday (and over the weekend) was that I lost a writing assignment on Saturday. The publisher canceled because of the economy. It was a very small assignment, so the financial impact is minimal, but I feared it was a sign of worse to come.

Michael and I were supposed to start a six-month assignment tomorrow, and we haven't received the contracts for the job yet. Several times this year, we've had situations of jobs being postponed and postponed and then canceled, so I was starting to feel really afraid about the long assignment. What made it even more nerve-wracking is that I turned down three other sizable jobs because I was committed to this one. If it fell through, I'd really be screwed.

Well, I received an email at the end of the day. It's still on. We need to call in for a teleconference on Thursday.

So that's my life today. My financial prospects are less squashed than my pantry is. (I know. Groan.)

Put Gladness in My Heart

I've been struggling with anxiety for the last week or so. I know I'm not alone in this. From what I've been reading, the ugliness of the election and the downturn of the economy have unnerved a lot of people.

This morning, I happened to read Psalm 4, and I found it comforting, so I'll share it with you.

PSALM 4

Answer me when I call, O God of my right! You gave me room when I was in distress. Be gracious to me, and hear my prayer.

How long, you people, shall my honor suffer shame? How long will you love vain words, and seek after lies? Selah

But know that the Lord has set apart the faithful for himself; the Lord hears when I call to him.

When you are disturbed, do not sin; ponder it on your beds, and be silent. Selah

Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the Lord.

There are many who say, “O that we might see some good! Let the light of your face shine on us, O Lord!”

You have put gladness in my heart more than when their grain and wine abound.

I will both lie down and sleep in peace; for you alone, O Lord, make me lie down in safety.

I don't have any answers for the larger issues that we're all struggling with. In my heart, I believe that "all things work together for good to those that love the Lord," but I also know that God doesn't promise to protect us from hardship. All we can really count on in this world is God's character, which is wholly good.

Lord, I pray that you will fulfill this psalm in my life and "put gladness in my heart more than when grain and wine abound." Grant all of us strength, resourcefulness, hope, and wisdom in making decisions.

Hope peeking through the thicket

Book Review: Falling Man

I just finished reading a novel about 9/11: Falling Man by Don DeLillo.

The book primarily concerns Keith, a survivor who was in the Two Towers, his estranged wife Lianne, and their son Justin. After 9/11, Keith returns to his family, but he is unable to return to the life he knew before. Lianne and Justin have their own trouble making sense of events. Their confusions are played out in incidents such as Justin and his friends trying to interpret what they've overheard from adults about Bin Laden and Lianne feeling anger toward a neighbor who is constantly playing loud Middle Eastern music in their apartment building. In one series of episodes I found moving, Lianne works with a group of Alzheimer's patients, helping them to write down their memories and experiences for as long as they can. As they gradually lose the ability to make meaning of their lives, it resonates with the general uncertainty Lianne is experiencing.

Throughout the book, the characters either hear about or see a performance artist calling "Falling Man" who falls off structures and hangs in a harness upside down in a pose that imitates a well-known photograph of a victim falling from one of the Twin Towers. This raises questions about symbolism, art, manipulation. One thing I liked is that DeLillo doesn't really tell you how to feel about what this performance artist is doing. He just puts it out there.

Another subplot is told in flashback, incorporating episodes before 9/11. It shows how one of the hijackers was trained to sacrifice himself to his cause. He is forced to wean himself from ordinary human connections and activities. There are interesting parallels and counterpoints to the kind of reforging of identity that Keith has to do after 9/11.

I've only read one other book by DeLillo, and I never finished it because I find his style somewhat off-putting. My biggest complaint is that he starts many scenes with a pronoun—he or she—so that you really have to work to figure out if the scene is about Lianne or her mother, about Keith or Justin or Falling Man or the terrorist. As a writer, I think that there is simply no excuse for creating that amount of confusion in the reader. I understand and applaud including some obscurity in the text if it serves the thematic purpose of the book, which it does in this case, but I think DeLillo takes it too far. In my view, he comes very close to pissing off the reader in a way that is counter-productive.

The book is also non-linear (not told in straight chronological order), which is something I like because it helps the reader link past and present. I think the disjointedness between scenes and the non-linear structure works well for this particular story. I don't want to give away too much of the plot, but its structure near the end helps to drive home that point that, in many ways, for the rest of his life Keith will always be in that office at the moment the plane hit. 

The tone is what I'd call fairly matter-of-fact. There's no over-emotionalism here or "purple prose." When the topic is something as upsetting as 9/11, a dryer tone can work to the story's advantage. The reader already has a lot of emotion to attach to the events, so the author doesn't need to manufacture more.

In general, I would recommend the book because I think it does shed light on what the 9/11 survivors and those who love them experienced. I'm not sure it gives as much broader societal commentary, but that's all right. I don't think one book could possibly explore everything about an event of such magnitude.

(Just a reminder, I don't blog on Sundays. If you post something tomorrow you want me to read, let me know.)

And the Walls Came Tumbling Down

Wednesday night, Michael and I were watching a movie when I heard something fall in one of the back rooms. We paused the recording, and I went to see if I could figure out what it was. I checked the pictures on the walls, the towel racks in the bathrooms, etc., but couldn't spot what made the noise, so I sent Michael to make the rounds.

He came back to tell me that the combination shelf and hanger rod in the double closet in our bedroom had pulled away from many of its anchors, and the whole shelf was sagging. Before going to bed, we moved all the clothes that were hanging on the rod and draped them across various pieces of furniture throughout the house.

See that screw head in the wall on the upper left of the photo. It's supposed to be attached to a plastic anchor, which broke into pieces. The visible anchor screw in the upper center of the photo is supposed to be embedded in the drywall. The problem wasn't just these two screws. Nearly every anchor along the 12-foot shelf had done the same thing. If it weren't for the angled buttress pieces that held the shelf from below by being screwed into studs, the whole thing would have been on the floor.

So yesterday was one of those days when we had to drop everything to work on an unexpected problem. I had a church meeting in the morning, but after it was over, I spent hours trying to find a way to store the clothes and storage boxes from my side of the now non-functioning closet. Michael was doing the same thing with his half.

I looked at just about every item of clothing I had and evaluated whether to keep it. I packed up a carton about two feet by two feet by three feet with clothes to give away, and I filled up a giant trash bag with clothes that were too worn or dingy to either wear anymore or give to someone else.

My summer clothes are now hanging in a closet in one of the other bedrooms. (I usually keep my off-season clothes in there anyway.) And I had a portable clothes rack in the laundry area of the basement that I use to hang clothes as soon as I take them out of the dryer. It's now standing in our bedroom closet holding most of my fall / winter clothes.

Plus we took some of the heavy boxes, etc, that were on the shelves of the other closets in the house and moved them into the basement, hoping to avoid a repeat of the same catastrophic failure.

And we've called someone to come out and give us an estimate for a new  (and better) closet system. They're supposed to call back tomorrow to make the appointment.

Once all that was finished, I had to vacuum up the dust and debris that resulted from the crash and subsequent cleanup. Then, finally, we had to go grocery shopping. It was a very long day.

Chicago Botanic Garden, Part II

More photos from the outing I posted about yesterday.

This mallard was swimming really fast. I'm amazed the photo turned out this good. The one of his wife was a total blur.

This is a rare but precious specimen that only graces the Botanic Garden on occasion.

This photo and the two below are taken at my favorite spot in the entire 375-acre facility--the walled English gardens.

This water lily was in a cee-ment pond, as Ellie Mae Clampett would say. It was growing near the visitor's center.

If you're ever in the Chicagoland area during the growing season, I really recommend going to the Chicago Botanic Garden. It's in the suburb of Highland Park, about 20 miles north of the city.

Chicago Botanic Garden

Not only am I trying to get back into my spiritual disciplines, I've been going on some outings with my husband because we've been so busy this summer that we haven't done a lot of fun things together. Yesterday, we took a couple of hours to go to the Chicago Botanic Garden. It is such a blessing to have a resource like that. Today's and tomorrow's posts will be a few of the many photographs I took there. You can click on them to make them bigger.

Asters were everywhere.

There are also many ponds and fountains.

The bulb garden had a giant bed of these cannas.

The tall plants are banana plants with more asters at their base. I didn't notice what the striped plants are.

 

I loved this view.

And I loved these textures.

More photographs tomorrow.