News Trend Reading Recommendations|Actual

A cloud of interesting book titles forever floats around in my brain, and I'm never without inspiration for what to read next.

But when someone puts a book in my hands and says, "Read this. I think you will like it," I snap to attention. More often that not, that book shoots to the top of my to-read pile and I get to it as soon as possible.

So it is that within the past few months, two books have landed in my lap this way. I cracked open both books with curiosityand a certainty that something inside of them was meant just for me.

I was right. These books are interesting each on their own right, but they fit together especially well as a pair of fascinating opposites, completely different types of books that teach me about both the cruelty of life and the infinite goodness of what comes after.

I recommend them both.

* * * * *

This Earth of Mankind by Pramoedya Ananta Toer

Minke is a young Javanese student, intelligent and sensitive, coming of age in nineteenth-century Indonesia. Struggling to find his place among the native colonized peoples and the Portuguese colonizers, he meets a beautiful young woman and her family who face the same challenges in different ways. Spoiler alert - the story does not end well, and I came face to face with the fact that European colonial powers could grind even the most gifted and promising native people into dust.

Forever Ours by Janis Amatuzio, MD

The author is a contemporary forensic pathologist from the American Midwest, and in her profession, she uses autopsies and other clinical evidence to scientifically establish causes of local death. But her investigations also lead her into deep conversations with grieving families, and in this book she documents the dozens of stirring and inexplicable stories they have told her about the transition between life and death. This record fills me with hope, and I've begun the practice of sending copies of this book to friends and family who have recently lost loved ones.

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbitt

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbit

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

Reading Mysteries

Reading About Walking

News Trend Reading Inspiratiion|Actual

The Year Of Less by Cait Flanders

This millennial personal finance guru and mindful consumer wannabe set some intense goals for herself: aggressive decluttering and editing down her possessions, living on about half of her paycheck, and enforcing a self-defined shopping ban for one full year. What Cait loses along the way is far less than what she gains; this book breaks down her journey and celebrates her discoveries. Though she and I find ourselves in different seasons of life and face different challenges in our growing edges, Cait's story inspires and encourages me to act.

* * * * *

The Year Of Less intersects my life at many key points. Like Cait,

I'm an avowed declutterer and minimalist.

I love to set challenges for myself.

I believe that self-discipline sets me free from my own worst instincts.

I value the potential energy of saved money.

I am a superfan of mathematical statistics and metric data to track my progress.

I am always looking for new ways to grow.

And most of all, at this point in my life, I am impatient. No longer do I want to wait to get things done, to make changes, to improve myself. Now.

No day but today.

These forces, strikingly similar to those that drove Cait to make changes in her life, are demanding a response from me. As I read the final pages of her book tonight, I felt the gauntlet thrown down within myself. I've decided to commit to my own Year Of Less.

My Year Of Less will be based on Cait's plan, but not exactly the same. I'm going to spend the next week or so mulling over the changes that I want to make in my possessions, my savings account, my shopping habits, and then I will share my plan.

I'm committed to starting my Year Of Less on May 1, 2019.

Thanks, Cait. You have inspired me.

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbit

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

Reading Mysteries

Reading About Walking

* * * * *

Read more about my journey to mindful consumption:

Reading Inspiration

My Shopping Ban Rules

My Decluttering Rules

The First Test

Sometimes It's Okay To Hold On

Setting Myself Free

Armed And Dangerous

A Decluttering Update: Family Photos

A Shopping Ban Update: Three Months In

Keepers

News Trend A Working Kitchen|Actual

After a full day of chores, grocery shopping, and a lovely walk with my dog, I headed back into the kitchen to start dinner. Before leaving on the walk, I'd taken a few minutes to tidy up so I rounded the corner ready to take in the calm and soothing tableau of my still-new simply-styled open shelves.

What I actually found was this.

^ Now, I know this isn't exactly a mess. But the level of clutter here is far more than my eyes care to see, and to be honest, as I surveyed this busy scene, I felt deflated.

There are a lot of things sitting around that don't belong here.

^ Next to the sink, I see four cans of cherries and a bottle of bourbon, ingredients for my husband's birthday dessert,a bourbon cherry crisp from Sally's Baking Addiction.

For most of my birthday-baking life, I've baked birthday treats on the day of the actual birthday, but finally it dawned on me that with our typically busy birthday schedules, I'm creating extra stress and pressure for myself on these special days. My goal now is to proactively prepare birthday desserts on the day before, and since I'm planning to whip up the crisp before dinner, I'm pretty proud of myself for staying properly on task

The garlic bulbs will be roasted for tonight's pizza toppings. I peep off all the outer papery layers, use a serrated knife to trim off the top of the bulb so each clove is exposed, the drizzle about a teaspoon of olive oil inside. I wrap the whole mess in foil and pop it into the over around 400 degrees for a half hour. Don't be like me - let the garlic cool before handling it. But with a simple squeeze from the bottom of each clove, a perfectly roasted bit of garlic will pop out the top. Put it on pizza for a taste of pure heaven.

^ Over here by the cook top, we have mushrooms and arugula for the pizzas, as well as three Boboli shells. We usually make our crusts from scratch, but my third-born who has been denied the joy of a good Boboli pizza during her many years in Asia, made a special request.

The raspberries, rinsed and sorted, will accompany the pizza for dinner tonight. Fresh and simple.

And the oats are another ingredient in my husband's cherry crisp.

^ Up on the shelf, I spy four apples for Gracie, and hiding beneath the checkered napkin, a tiny wedge of coconut cake left over from Easter. The apples normally sit on the marble stand, and our cakes usually live on a different cake stand that sits above on the top shelf. But this cake is a three-layer cake, too tall to fit under the glass top of the other stand. And so it lives here, and the apples must find a new temporary home.

^ I turn around and come across evidence of my mid-afternoon menu-planning session. Several cookbooks sprawl across the bit of counter space; Instinctively, I flip the books shut and stack them  before taking the picture.

* * * * *

As I berita umum this busy scene, I still feel my original sense of dismay. I prefer to start cooking in a perfectly tidy kitchen, I tell myself. I think of the immaculate, not-a-single-thing-out-of-place kitchens I see in shiny magazines, TV shows, and online photos, and I can't help but feel like I am falling short of the design world's standards for pretty kitchens.

And then.

I realize how completely silly that is.

My kitchen is not an ornamental space.

It is not meant to be an object of art, nor a place of purely aesthetic appeal.

This is a working kitchen. And while I definitely want a room that pleases my eye, I can't feed my family if I'm cooking in an art gallery. I want a workspace, a place where projects are always in process, where I can allow myself to make a good and proper mess.

And take joy in the process.

Because there will always be time to clean my working kitchen up when I'm done.

And my faithful dog, Gracie, will stay with me until I'm done.

News Trend Spoilers|Actual

For Christmas that year, my mom bought me the book version. I treasured it and still

have it to this very day, even though my dog, Casey, did take a big ol' chomp out of the corner.

What can I say, he was a chewer.

Back in the fall of 1965, I went with my neighbor, Vickie Terry, to see Mary Poppins in the theater.

I was six years old.

This wasn't the first time I'd been to a movie - I'd seen One Hundred and One Dalmatians in a proper theater when I was three, though my mom reports that I spent most of the movie asking her to take me for a drink of water, and then enjoying the long, slow climb up the wide, carpeted stairway at the majestic old Michigan Theater rather than getting the wits scared out of me as Cruella de Vil attempted to kill puppies. I'd also been to the drive-in once or twice, though that mostly consisted of wrestling my brothers for the bag of homemade popcorn and struggling to see the movie out the front window of the car.

But this was the first time I'd been invited to a movie by a friend.

Oh, those the double halaman color illustrations! Can't you just imagine the blast of wind that would send these nannies gusting off into the skies over London?

And it was the first time I'd been to see Mary Poppins.

Now back in those days, in small town America, popular movies blew in and out of town like the wind. A successful original run might last a month or two, then maybe six months later, that movie would pop back up again for a second run, and play for another few weeks. Immensely popular movies, like Gone With The Wind or Fantasia, returned year in and year out.

By the time I saw it, Mary Poppins was on her third run.

Now, I had never seen the movie before, but boy, oh boy, had I heard about it.

I'd watched countless previews and teasers on the weekly Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color TV show.

We'd been singing the songs from the movie in my music class at school for months.

But more than anything else, my friends had told me all about it.

Yes, many of my lucky schoolmates had caught a first or second run showing of this wildly popular movie, and countless recesses and lunch hours been devoted to their recounting endless details of the show. I'd heard about the talking parrot on the umbrella handle, the toys flying around the nursery, the sidewalk paintings at the park, and the carousel horses galloping off the merry-go-round and cavorting off into the countryside.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

What a perfect word for second graders to use in nearly every situation. And we did.

My best friend, Marilyn, had also seen the movie. She introduced to the Banks' parents' peculiarities - what's a suffragette, anyway? - and puzzled with me over Mary's relationship with the kooky chimney sweep and rooftop dancer, Bert. Was he her boyfriend? Her husband? Her brother? And what about the mean men at the bank who end up laughing so hard that the oldest one dies? Could that actually happen to a person?

Suffice it to say, by the time I sat down in my red velvet seat with Vickie and her mom, I was completely familiar with the story that was finally about to unfold in front of my eyes. I enjoyed every minute even as I anticipated every plot twist and knew exactly how the movie would end.

In today's vernacular, my Mary Poppins movie-going experience had been utterly and completely spoiled.

But with the basics under my belt before the movie began, my six-year-old mind was able to wrap itself around every magical lebih jelasnya and colorful character I saw. Rather than feeling confused or overwhelmed, I loved every single minute of the show.

* * * * *

This weekend, as the highly anticipated Avengers: Endgame and Game Of Thrones' The Long Night episode both hit screens for the first time, there has been a lot of chatter online about spoilers.

To sum up the conundrum, when it comes to spoilers, there are two kinds of people: those who watch new releases right away and want to talk about what they've seen, and those who expect the world to maintain radio silence till they get a chance to watch.

Honestly, I don't get the fuss about spoilers. Most storytelling is fairly predictable - The Sixth Sense, Inception, and several episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation notwithstanding - and it doesn't take a crystal ball to predict that the Avengers are going to use time travel to prevent Thanos from accumulating the Infinity Stones and thereby killing half the population of the universe, including many Avengers. Some way or another, the good guys will ultimately kill the bad guy, rewrite time, and bring all the dead folks back to life. I expect most of the Avengers to recover, except for a few whose actors' contracts were not renegotiated.

Similarly, anyone who's been with Game of Thrones can safely assume that most of our heroes - Jon and Dany, for sure - are likely to survive the culminating battle against the Army of the Dead and one way or another, take the next step on the way to the Iron Throne. And since killing the Night King means certain death for the entire army, it seems logical to aim for his jugular. Sure, there are many secondary details to be resolved and Lord knows the GOT writers love to upset expectations and knock off important characters. But harming either Jon or Dany would be like killing Frodo and Sam on their way back from Mordor to the Shire, and it's a safe bet that's not happening.

To be perfectly honest, I am fine knowing the key plot points of a movie that I'm about to watch. With those hand holds in place, I can better appreciate the richness of the characters, the details of the setting, the subtleties of the actors' performances. A movie takes on more texture and dimension, and I can more deeply enjoy every aspect of the artistic creation.

Just like that time I saw Mary Poppins.

News Trend Luna And Gracie|Actual

When Gracie first came into our lives, she tormented our poor cats. Though they were polite and reserved around her, the big red shaggy newcomer had no qualms about chasing them with wild abandon, barking at the top of her lungs and gleefully tracking them to whatever hiding place they could find in a hurry.

This dog was a bit of a menace to our poor cats.

But. Times have changed.

Within a few months of her arrival, Gracie dialed her responses back from frantic to playful, and the cats learned to stand up to her. Never once did they scratch or hiss at her, but their feline brains soon computed that if they didn't run away, Gracie didn't chase them.

We achieved d?Tente.

And now, we have this.

Nose kisses.

Between cat and dog.

No more dust-ups between these two supposedly natural enemies. Cats and dog have learned to love one another, and peace reigns in our home.

Oh, what the world could be if we only learned to live like Luna and Gracie.

News Trend Truffle Hunter|Actual

It's a well-known fact that pigs have an extraordinary nose for locating and rooting out the coveted fungi known as truffles. So in our family, a truffle-hunter is a white-gloved euphemism for, ahem, a pig.

* * * * *

As I prepared to leave the house this morning, I did all the normal things that people do as they prepare to go out for the day.

I grabbed a quick breakfast,

gathered up my keys and purse,

and Gracie-proofed the house.

I stashed the half-full compost bin behind a cabinet door; she can and does lift the bin out of its normal place in the extra-deep kitchen sink and carry it off to the family room floor where she dumps it out and sorts through the pistachio shells, lettuce cores, and other delicious treasures.

I scrubbed out the delicious oils someone left behind in a pan after preparing their breakfast; she is entirely capable of jumping up with front feet on the counter, scooching her back feet up close to the cabinets, stretching her elegant neck deep down into the sink, and nimbly licking out every tidbit.

I rinsed out a mostly empty bottle of ketchup abandoned in the sink; no doubt my girl would haul that bottle off and work it over on the family room floor, leaving tiny splashes of red in a five foot radius.

And of course, I lifted the cats' food bowls from their eating spot on the laundry room counter, which she can easily reach, and tucked them safely on a high shelf.

This is all completely normal, right?

Then, feeling reasonably confident that I had anticipated and eliminated Gracie's every hope of finding a snack while she was home alone, I kissed her on the head and walked out the door.

* * * * *

Three hours later, my third-born and I came home to this little surprise:

Lying upside down under the couch, a good fifteen feet away from the kitchen counter, we found a family-size plastic storage box full of homemade oatmeal cookies.

With craisins and chocolate chips.

Apparently, I overlooked the box during my inspection, and left it sitting out on the counter while my truffle-hunting missy was home alone.

And thank the Lord that the seal held, because there were at least twenty-five cookies inside. Had Gracie managed to pry the lid off - and I have no doubt that she tried her darnedest - she would have scored herself quite a scrumptious feast.

After yesterday's Skittle party, this would have been two huge back-to-back scores for my sweet-toothed sneak.

But alas, today, Gracie had to settle for kibble.

* * * * *

To read the full story of Gracie's Skittle score, go here.

News Trend Just Another Day|Actual

Today, Gracie ate two-thirds of a full-size bag of Skittles.

She also

got her tail fringe sucked up in the vacuum cleaner,

laid out in the sun near the front sidewalk while I gardened and  politely greeted several passersby,

and hunted down four squirrels on her walk.

Apparently, she did not get a stomach ache from all the candy.

Just another day in the life of my wild Irish lass.

* * * * *

To read about how Gracie's sweet tooth got her into trouble the next day, go here.