books – Page 2 – The Hermits' Rest

Book Report: Matriarch

I had to read it! It’s in Oprah’s book club! Oh, just kidding. I actually read a review of Matriarch: A Memoir, by Tina Knowles that made me want to check it out. Also it’s shiny and pretty. The picture frame effect is very nice

This book was a gift from my spouse. I’m trying to shop local, if I shop.

Truthfully, I was very pleased to have the chance to read this book. I learned a great deal about the early years of my life from a Black perspective. Knowles did a fantastic job of painting a rich and realistic picture of Galveston, Texas in the late 1950s and early 1960s. I also learned so much about the role of Galveston in the history of Black Texans. That was worth reading the book right there.

The end papers for the book come from the cover painting. Very pretty.

I was surprised but pleased to learn how much I have in common with this woman who pulled herself up from poverty to create thriving businesses and became a renowned fashion designer, thanks to her mother’s teachings. Yeah, on the surface we’re quite different. None of my children are rich and famous, for one thing!

But underneath, Knowles had an upbringing that led her to have a similar fear of abandonment and drive to mother every needy soul who showed up in her life. She succeeded at being a great (though flawed and human) mother figure, and ended up having relationships that reminded me way too much of my past messes.

Knowles is brutally honest with herself, but does an incredible job of being gracious to others. There’s no long litany of blaming and accusations against others in this memoir. I’ve read so many where the author never acknowledges their own failures and mistakes, but Tina Knowles accepts her responsibilities and does her best to forgive or understand those who hurt her. Well, except she didn’t forgive those nuns in her first school…once again I thank my dad for not sending us to the Catholic school right down the road from us.

The parts of the book where she’s struggling to work and raise her girls and when Destiny’s Child is starting were interesting, mainly because I’m not familiar with the world they were living in. But by the end, when they’re all floating around on yachts with helicopter pads and renting out entire islands for parties, I didn’t have much to relate to. Good ole Jay Z can sure spend money.

Now, lest you think Knowles has ended up all jaded and materialistic, I note that she has started many philanthropic organizations and works hard to help young people living in poverty or other bad situations. Honestly, who knows what I’d do if I ended up mega-wealthy? And I can’t begrudge any of her family the rewards from their hard work, because not one of them just stood around and became famous.

Yes, that’s probably the best lesson I learned in this book, that my prejudices against ultra-rich people need to be tempered. Everyone in the Knowles family, from her ex-husband to her famous daughters to the people in their larger circles worked very hard to become great at what they do. That’s important to remember.

Oh, another thing I learned from Matriarch is that I am completely ignorant of every bit of Beyoncé’s music. That entire genre is a mystery to me, though I certainly know what the musicians look like and what interesting clothing they wear. Sigh. At some point popular music and I parted ways.

Book Report: Eve

Hey, look, I finished a book that I like enough to write about! I’d would wager (if I did that kind of thing) that any like-minded friend of mine would love Eve: How the Female Body Drove 200 Million Years of Human Evolution, by Cat Bohannon, as much as I did. It has footnotes and endnotes, too, which hints at some thorough documentation, yet there’s lots of humor scattered throughout, so it’s not boring one bit.

I got it at the airport on the way to Hilton Head. Those nails are so two weeks ago!

Bohannon tells the story of “Eves,” who are archetypal women of the past whose developmental firsts made big impacts on the evolution of humans. All my La Leche League friends will love the chapter on breastfeeding, though perhaps some more intense fans of this method of feeding might find flaws. I didn’t, and I even learned a little.

fingernails — Newest nails. Call me the Eve of Girly Gender Neutral Confusion.

You learn a lot about the history of hominids, as well as how mammals developed, told charmingly through example animals. You get all wrapped up in their little lives as you see how traits we still have made a difference millions of years ago. The book is a lot of fun.

As are these blue flag irises. I’ll now stop with random photos.

I also have to hand it to Bohannan for being “woke” in the best possible sense. That woman doesn’t put down anyone, even inadvertently, and she navigates our world of gender dysphoria and sexual choices like the consummate professional she is. I was duly impressed, and if I were trans or XXY or whatever, I’d feel like I’d been talked about respectfully. But she doesn’t make things awkward–if she chooses a typical example, she always acknowledges possible exceptions. I hope her terminology holds up now that there’s a (scary as heck to someone who fought for women’s rights) sudden devolutionary trend in women’s rights and roles in the US.

My only criticism, if you can call it that, is that Bohannon doesn’t talk about the effects of hormone replacement therapy in post-menopausal women. I’d be interested to know if the current trend of using bioidentical hormones has a positive or negative affect on women’s health and longevity. Maybe that will be in her next book.

This is a hefty tome, for certain, but remember at least a third of it is end notes, bibliography, and index. You’ll wish it kept going.

Still Here, Saw Owls, Binged on Books and TV

I didn’t write last night because I was being a self-indulgent vacationer. After a truly excellent walk to the lagoon area near where I’m staying on Hilton Head Island, I had an indulgent lunch of eggs Benedict and grits, then spent the rest of the day indulging in various media. I don’t think I’ve ever done this before. It felt weird, mostly because I sat in one place for so long. I’ll get to that momentarily.

very burned pizza — I would like to know the story of this poor pizza I found lying on the ground. It’s well cooked, all right.

The birding walk was most excellent. I saw and heard all kinds of birds I don’t usually run into, including a pair of Eastern Kingbirds, an American Redstart, and an Ovenbird. The trees were alive, both by the lagoon and at the nearby park, where there were also many turtles and a little alligator that really got kids excited. The only downside was that, even though I wore jeans and closed-toe shoes, I got all bit up by mosquitoes. I now need a Benadryl, which will probably put me to sleep.

The highlight of the walk was the payoff for standing quietly in an alcove at the end of Lagoon Road and watching all the birds. I was thrilled to see a Barred Owl fly right in front of me and land nearby. As I was trying to see where it was, a second Barred Owl also flew by! I figured I’d stay and see if they made any calls that Merlin could hear. I also got quite distracted by an interesting caterpillar that crawled onto my pants. This thing has many bells and whistles on it.

caterpillar — It’s a Fir Tussock moth, *Orgyia detrita*. I read the Wikipedia article on Tussock moths, and it told me those white tufts are the tussocks. I was also wise not to touch it. Those long hairs sting. Also, in the moths, the male is large and attractive, and the female is very small. Read the article!

I guess that moth really excited me because I didn’t notice the owls moving. As I was about to leave, I turned to look once more, and there was one of the owls, sitting close enough to me that even in the dark shadow, I could get a reasonable photo, once he or she moved their head. Interestingly, there was a crow sitting close by, glaring at it. As I’ve learned at home, crows aren’t very fond of owls.

barred owl — This is the closest I’ve ever been to an owl. The ones at home hide.

I got to show the owl to a couple of folks walking down the path, which was rewarding. I headed back to the Coligny shopping area, where I truly enjoyed that breakfast, all by myself. I also had a bloody Mary. I’m trying to learn to enjoy this retirement thing.

I was impressed that my meal matched my nails.

I came back to my condo and thought I’d watch another episode of the Netflix series, The Residence, which many people had recommended to me because the detective in the series is a birder. I also discovered it is set in the White House, and as a fan of The West Wing, I wanted to see how they treated it. Well, many hours later, I finished all eight episodes, the last of which was 1.5 hours. Some of the humor is very subtle, which I loved, and the birding part is okay (though the bird names were not always accurate). But I LOVED the heroine, a large Black woman who is a genius. It’s about time we had more protagonists who are different from the norm. Most of the characters were fun. I recommend this if you have a Netflix subscription. By the way, I figured out how to stream from my phone all by myself. Maybe I am the technology whiz people keep accusing me of being.

Condo view — The place I watched television from. Look, I bought healthy bananas in addition to Goldfish crackers.

I figured that I was already watching television, so I made myself a delicious Publix meal for one, got out my temperature blanket, and caught up with all the sitcoms I secretly like to watch. Lee is not fond of sitcoms, and I can see why. They are often predictable and dumb (especially poor Reba on Happy’s Place, which I doubt gets renewed – edit, Wikipedia says it did). I got that one out of the way and well into St. Denis Medical (which also got renewed) by the time I finished eating and crocheting.

Spiderwort, the Ohio kind that’s more common than the Texas ones.

I’m not totally mindless sitcom fodder, though. I did read the Eve book I talked about in my being judgy post until I fell asleep. Learning about the history of human development from a female point of view is fascinating. Much of it I didn’t know about, though having read the book about the senses a while back, I did know how male and female vision differ. I’ll write a full book report when I’ve digested all 500 pages, but now it’s time to go fight the mosquitoes and listen to more birds.

I always think of my mom when I see bottlebrush trees. She thought they were so cool, but had to explain what exactly a bottlebrush was to us as kids.

Books to Love

What book could you read over and over again?

I admit it. I have read many books by Brené Brown more than once. I think people need different kinds of support at different times in their lives. When I needed to drag my self esteem out of the gutter and stop telling myself I kind things about myself, her stories and ideas were there to push me toward healing. I’m forever grateful that she writes in ways that reach me.

Just a picture to note that Cattle Egrets have arrived.

Here are my Brené Brown favorites:

Her writing taught me I wasn’t alone and I wasn’t awful. What a gift!

Here’s a gift. My favorite wildflower, Texas Baby Blue Eyes.

I’ve mentioned before that I must have read Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell, dozens of times as a child. It shaped by love of horses and all animals and set me on a path of kindness to our animal friends.

Speaking of my animal friends, Apache and I had a hard lesson today. He is not fond at all of Tarrin’s gate obstacle. I got a good lesson in patience (though I did lose my patience once). He learned he has to trust me when I ask him to do things, and I learned I still have work to do on quietly repeating instructions and not showing my frustration.

It’s like the dung beetle. You just keep pushing until you get there. No need to get upset.

He’s such a good guy most of the time that I know Apache has his reasons for disliking the gate. We will work through it! After all, Brené Brown taught me that being imperfect is how we grow.

Book Report: Tell Me Everything

I’ve been meaning to write about the latest Elizabeth Strout novel, and since I was wrong about going camping this afternoon, I suddenly have time. I guess I should have asked someone if we were leaving the day we originally planned. That’s what you get for making assumptions. I make an a** out of me. And, sigh, we have to leave a day early because I have jury duty Monday, I’m a bit pouty. I really want to go camping. We haven’t been in so long.

Must deal with these results of the investigation into why the bedroom slide won’t move. It needs professional help.

However, I did read this book, so let’s talk about Tell Me Anything (2024). As soon as I realized there was a new book in this series (I’ve reviewed them all on this blog, so you can search for Strout and find them), I ordered it. I was very interested to find out what was going on with the characters in Crosby, Maine, since the pandemic, so I dove right in. I was happy to see that this installment concentrated on good old Lucy Barton and her friend Bob Burgess, as they cope with a local murder.

As with most of Strout’s books, the plot is secondary for me. I just enjoy how she tells stories. Her style is so spare, and her use of repetition and the narrator jumping in with bits of information, just enough information. And as always, you get insights into how people think, act, and work from points of view you’d never considered before. I just love the pithy parts.

I underlined and marked many passages that I can no longer see, but my favorite one was this part of a conversation about the meaning of one of the stories two characters shared with each other:

That was about the same thing that every story Lucy and I have shared is about. People suffer. They live, they have hope, they even have love, and they still suffer. Everyone does. Those who think they have not suffered are lying to themselves.” p. 315.

Actual small town in Maine. Photo by Leah Newhouse on Pexels.com

The people in the book are also fun for me. They are all so fully formed, with wonderful features and fatal flaws. They are real in the best way. I love how married couples are treated here. They have days where their spouses get on their nerves, then days where they don’t know what they’d do without them. And there are divorced people who don’t hate each other, but are glad to no longer be married. It’s refreshing to be able to feel empathetic with human beings who can be inconsistent, think judgmental things about others, but still be doing their best. I feel less alone.

There’s always time for reflection, like the heron is doing. These books inspire you to reflect on universal truths and intimate insights.

One more thing is that I was glad to see that Strout introduced a few new characters, since the “old” ones are mostly getting old. Olive Kitteridge is now 93! I can’t wait to see how she weaves them into the continuing saga as she follows them on through the scary 2020s.

Lost in Time

Which activities make you lose track of time?

Ah, I’m answering this question rather than sharing my current thoughts. They’ll be more refined tomorrow.

For certain, what my husband will tell you makes me lose track of time is nature walks. I just disappear and re-emerge with no idea how long I was gone. I’m completely enthralled by the sights, sounds, and smells of new places or new things in familiar places. I don’t want it to end.

Here’s a new thing I found in the driveway! It’s delicious common purslane, a portulaca (*Portulaca oleracea*) just like the cultivated one below.

Look at the beautiful Texas Striped Sweat Bee in my volunteer portulaca/moss rose

Hanging out with the animals also can make me lose track of time. I’ve just spent twenty minutes thinking about how beautiful Carlton is to me. My love for this guy never ends.

I ended up spending more time with Drew today than I’d intended, too. I’d walked to the next-door unused mailbox to drop something off, and decided to come back through the horse pasture, you know, in case there were any interesting plants or insects. So, I was concentrating on plants when I got a feeling I was being followed.

I kept going until I felt something hot on my neck.

Then I realized Droodles was sneaking up on me.

We ended up hanging out for quite a while just enjoying each other’s company. He didn’t push me around looking for treats, just rested his head on me and asked to be scratched. It’s so good to get along with each other again!

Mostly. That ear is showing some mischief is afoot.
Yes, I’m not much of a fashionista in this weather. That shirt is very orange and the head covering looks silly but keeps hair out of my face.

Not surprisingly, the other activity that leads me to lose track of time is reading. I’ve been reading Sibley Birds, Second Edition since I bought it in New Mexico. It’s only 600+ pages. I can’t stop looking at all the birds, learning new things about familiar ones and finding out what else might be out there in Texas (and wherever else I go).

I will admit to skimming Arctic residents and ocean birds. Otherwise, I’m reading it all. But I’m in the oriole section! I’m almost done! Do not worry. I have a nice long book about animal tracks lined up. That’s what happens when people stop mailing me novels, I guess. (I’m fine for novels! I have some enqueued.)

If I’m repeating myself, forgive me. I’m working on changing my mindset and that can wear me out until I’m through the hardest part (letting go of an unproductive mindset).

Thanks for being there, friends and family. You are appreciated even when I don’t show it well.

It’s All Black Beauty’s Fault

Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?

Surprise! As a child I was very fond of, you guessed it, horse books. I read every horse book in the Sidney Lanier Elementary School library by third grade. The last book the librarian found was Steinbeck’s The Red Pony. She soon learned that sensitive young girls should not be given that book, even if they have advanced reading skills. I cried a lot and had nightmares.

I didn’t like the thought of horses dying gruesome deaths.

I’m glad they now have books for young people with high reading levels that are still children.

My favorite childhood book, Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell, also depicted bad things that happen to a horse, but after I’d read it once, I knew there would be a happy ending, so I let all Sewell’s animal rights propaganda seep into my future Master Naturalist brain by reading my poor copy dozens of times.

This was the 1955 edition I owned. Goodness, that horse has small eyes.

I can tell you what the cover looked like, and how I regretted that I let the plastic coating on the cover peel away. I can smell the book, even. It was the most beloved of a set of beloved horse books, a few of which I still have.

No wonder it was so important to me to find a trainer who was kind to horses and understood them. It’s probably a good thing I waited until I was getting on in years to start formal lessons, so that natural horsemanship could become a “thing.” I wouldn’t have been good at the showing the horse who’s boss by beating them school of training nor the cruel bits/painful sours tack they’d use. Black Beauty didn’t like that either!

That stuff’s for the birds, says Mr Cardinal.

Today was a great example of how Tarrin Warren, my horsemanship coach and horse trainer, works with each horse and rider pair differently, according to the needs and skills of both the horse and the human.

Check this out! Me and Drew happily riding outside of the arena! Happy faces.

I had lessons on both horses, and doing the same exercise I used different techniques to bring out Drew and Apache’s talents and help with their issues, all the while building my skills. This helps me with my confidence in other areas, too.

This horse right here calmly walked by neighing horses, a loud RV, and the previously hated trailer.

Horses are good for people. And looking at Apache’s shining eyes and willing body makes me think maybe they get something from us, too.

Drew is completely back to his normal self, too. It’s like the past few months never happened. We have fun and I feel perfectly safe with him, even when his leg collapses under him. Heck, today I gave him his shot like a pro, and had ZERO issues bridling him. Those are two things I’d never have believed I could do before.

So yeah, as much as I loved learning about horses in books as a child, I’m loving it even more with actual horses. Yup, even with all the ups and downs.

Here we are, looking forward to the future. Or looking at Tarrin’s new house.

Tomorrow I promise to write about something other than horses! Or birds. I’m getting rather stuck on topics, but it helps me avoid controversy.

But we birds are fascinating, says the Red-Bellied Woodpecker.

I’m also interesting! (Giant Walking Stick)

What about me? I came in Suna’s house and she rescued me before dogs found me. That’s interesting. (Gulf Coast Toad)

Book Report: In the Shadow of Liberty

My friend Phyllis loaned me this book after a conversation we had about how history’s narrative differs depending on who’s version is being told. In the Shadow of Liberty, by Kenneth C. Davis (2016), is one of many books that have come out in the past few years that provide perspectives on events in North America from people who aren’t white, male, Christian, or wealthy. As one of those non-priviledged people, I appreciate these insights! (Of course I have plenty of priviledge, just not as much as I would have were I male or a declared Christian).

The book is not about me, though, it’s about people who were witnesses to a lot of the early history of the USA, though they were only 3/4 of a person legally and also enslaved to a wealthy landowner who happened to also be a President of the USA. Because of their proximity to people who wrote a lot and got written about a lot, they managed to get at least glimpses into their lives recorded for people in the future to learn from. As Davis points out there were thousands of people who toiled in the fields anonymously who never got to share their side of life in the 1700s-1800s.

Davis makes it clear that the history of slavery and slave-ownership isn’t as black and white as we make it out to be. Slave owners were known to change their minds over time or treated some enslaved people way differently than others. Some were cruel and some were more humane (a relative term, of course. I found it interesting to see how each group viewed the other and how differently their lives played out.

I’m not going to detail each chapter of the book, which has lots of interesting photographs, timelines, and illustrations to help us understand the times when the protagonists lived. What I do want to point out is how well Davis conveys the whole context of the Presidents and their families, as well as the families of enslaved people around them. It becomes very clear, for example, that George Washington both admired and trusted Bille Lee, who accompanied him on most of his battles and campaigns, yet he always referred to him as “his mulatto man, Billy.” I guess that’s just how people talked back then, but it made me sad.

You’ll find lots of information you may not have heard about before when you read this book, which isn’t very long and is more of a popular book than a scholarly investigation. Some of the people focused on are now pretty famous, but some have faded into the shadows (of liberty).

Reading this book now in 2024 will remind you of how important it is to not backslide on the freedoms we have fought long and hard for in the US. There are still people who would be happy to go back to a time where people could own each other (and it still occurs in the shadows, just a little differently). We all deserve to live our lives safely, with our families, and with meaningful paid work. No “but not these people…” should be allowed.

Book Report: The Promise of Unbroken Straw

I started to read The Promise of Unbroken Straw, by Ken Steele (2024) because I know the author and want to support people who are brave enough to publish their writing. I finished reading it because I was fascinated by the people and the setting of the book. Most important, Steele is a very good writer and I didn’t get annoyed by any amateur errors like you sometimes see in books you read to be nice to your friends.

Ken and his wife, Cathy, who I met in an online email group decades ago.

I’m here to tell you that if you are a fan of historical fiction, you’ll enjoy this book very much and become totally immersed in the setting, which is Oklahoma during World War II (and some of today as well). You’ll become fond of many of the folks you’ll encounter, as well, and dislike the villains just as much. There’s a lot of angst, sadness, failure, and trouble to be found, but of course some ultimate redemption.

I loved the way Steele portrayed his protagonist, Paul, as a somewhat clueless young teen who really didn’t understand a lot of what was going on around him, but kept trying his best, anyway. You can take a good lesson away from Paul, which is that sometimes what you think is happening and how you perceive events in your life may not be exactly what you think. At least Paul eventually figures that out.

The book resonated with me, because part of the drama revolves around oil being discovered on one’s property and trying to figure out what to do about it. That all played out down with my family here in Texas not so long ago, too, and the feelings are all-t00 familiar. I had a lot of empathy for Paul’s father and grandfather as they tried to do what is right but were tempted by visions of dollar bills dancing in front of their faces.

Ken took this photo of me being colder than I’d ever been in my life.

I’d recommend this book even if Ken weren’t the greatest host in Colorado, but I’m thrilled to be able to encourage all of you to check it out.

Book Report: Two Horse Books That Apply to Everyone

I recently finished two books by Crissi McDonald, a horse trainer and clinician who lives in Colorado with her husband Mark Rashid, who wrote the previous books I read. I had a theme.

I think they are self-published, but the quality is quite good. She must know a good proofreader. The books are Continuing the Ride, in which she talks about recovering from a bad injury from a horse accident, and Getting along with Horses, which talks about how your attitude can affect your experience with horses.

Here’s Apache. We have had a long and challenging relationship, but we will always like each other.

McDonald is an engaging writer who has honed her craft through blogging and participation in writing groups. In fact, Getting along with Horses started out as blog posts. Good idea! She is good at both telling stories and sharing what she’s learned. I’ll sprinkle some quotes in this review. Here’s one (and I forgot to get the page number, but it’s from Getting along with Horses.)

Riding a horse, or being around horses, is a shared experience. Horses are power sheathed in silky coats. They sweat, they feel a full range of emotions, and they’re accepting of humans and all our crazy ideas. They can’t be fully controlled. And yet. The thrill of a gallop is a freedom mutually felt. The serenity of grazing is something we can be included in. As we share experiences with our horses, we come to see the world through eyes that aren’t blinded by our particular definitions of the world. This world doesn’t belong to just us. We share it with every other living creature, plant, and river. Being with a horse allows us to consider other ways of life, and what is important to them.
Crissi McDonald, Getting along with Horses

What made me happiest is that much of what she says about working with horses applies to dealing with humans, so I got lots of food for thought about dealing with people around me as well as my equine companions.

Andrew. We’re a pair. I love him intensely.

When McDonald talus about recovering from her injuries I could see how her words would help anyone dealing with trauma. She shared how giving herself permission to go as slowly as she needed to go actually sped up recovery. And I love that she didn’t bring anger or blame into the discussion. Things just happen and dwelling on blame just makes it harder to go forward. That is not just a horse thing!

Dusty always seems concerned about something. Look at the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. But he loves attention.

Fear makes it hard to do your best with your horse partner, but it’s so reasonable to have fear. Horses are unpredictable, large, powerful, and easily frightened, themselves. I’ve had to work through my own fear with Apache after my own fall (not a bad one at all) and my lack of confidence in both him and me. No wonder we’ve had all the issues.

Mabel is doing so much better. She’s not shut down, asks for attention, and has life in her huge eyes now.

What I like best about these books is that McDonald doesn’t come across as preachy or authoritarian, just as a fellow horse lover who’s trying to figure things out, just like you are. She’s also willing to follow her instincts, even when they aren’t all scientific. I do that, too.

When she talked about the importance of your intentions in horse work, I felt relief. A lot of people avoid that, since it comes across all woo-woo or something. But intent has always been a powerful force in my life. Just because we don’t know how something works yet doesn’t make it real. Like gravity and germs, you have to get to the point where people can measure things! I digress.

Two Quotes That Apply to Us All

I’ve written a lot about the importance of remaining calm in the midst of chaos. During the coronavirus pandemic, the chaos waits for us every day. We see that the pleasures and places we thought would always be there no longer are. We watch the numbers affected by the virus go up. No one knows where this
train stops. Or even pauses.

As much as anyone can, I’ve tried to stay informed without
spinning emotionally out of control.
Crissi McDonald, Getting along with Horses, p. 105

My Favorite Topic!

Name-calling a horse, or anyone for that matter, may be borne of frustration or anger, but I can guarantee you that the only result will be to perpetuate an adversarial relationship. Name-calling is a lack of imagination, it shuts down our innate curiosity, and it smothers learning. Wanting to have a partnership with your horse and name-calling are at opposite ends of the spectrum. Since when does seeing your horse as an enemy to be vanquished yield a harmonious and pleasing relationship?
Crissi McDonald, Getting along with Horses, p. 19

Anyway, these two books felt like hugs to me, much needed hugs. I feel validated on my path with horses, and I have new insights to help me on that path. Guess I better go follow Crissi McDonald on social media!