the pre-game show…

In the spirit of blogging how I want to, I think this Dewey’s Readathon, I’m going to blog like I did in that very first 24-Readathon. By updating on my blog every hour or so. (Okay, it’s actually unlikely that I’ll blog every hour…I’m just too damn lazy for that.) But I’m not going to worry about inundating people’s feed readers by posting too often, because not having told people about this blog, I’m unlikely to be in their feed readers, now aren’t I? šŸ˜‰

The pre-game necessities:

1. Chores done in advance so there’s no nagging voices interrupting spirit of calm relaxation tomorrow. CHECK.

2. The comfy clothes set aside, both for day time and for evening/night. CHECK.

3. The foodstuffs gathered. (It goes without saying that this one is vital!) CHECK.

IMG_0707Never claimed to be shooting for healthy here.

4. The coffee ground and ready to be brewed in the morning. CHECK.

5. And duh! The book pile. CHECK.
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This is the Friday afternoon iteration. It has changed slightly from its original creation, and is subject to continued change. As it is now, I’ve got a pretty good mix though: fiction, non-fiction, comics, short stories, poetry, and an audio book. Also, not pictured, I’m keepingĀ Difficult WomenĀ (essays) in mind from my iPad, as well as comics from Marvel Unlimited. So yeah, seems like I’ve got something for nearly every mood.

And while there’s nothing exactly to prepare, one of the best parts of the day shall be chatting with friends and cheering on fellow readers.

Remembering Dewey is most definitely not exclusive to readathon day, but it is always a huge part of it. I’m so blessed to have friends who miss her, who love her as much as I do. I’m so blessed to have had her in my life. #missyouDewey

tidbits…

*I’m so far from alone in my feelings about the state of the world right now. The normalization of hate. Not that hate hasn’t always existed, of course. But after Brexit, and after the still unfathomable presidential election in the U.S., it’s become a more openly hateful, less friendly, less compassionate planet. For so many there was this turning point, after which nothing felt normal any more. And even months later, it’s hard to know what to do with oneself. Yes, there’s the endless petitions to sign, there are letters to write daily, if I had a phone there would be calls to make, there are rallies and protests to attend, there is reading to be done, and so much listening to do…but beyond those acts, what do we do with ourselves. How do we approach the things that make up a life? I’ve heard many people say that apart from their resistance activities, they have largely pulled inside themselves. And that’s what I’ve done too. I’ve had talks with friends about the importance of not letting go of hope and not letting go of joy…because if we do that, well, hate wins. But it’s hard. Some days it feels impossible. Anyway, last night I was having a text chat with my dear friend Chris, and he said one of the most meaningful things I’ve heard in dealing with the world. In part, he said, “…sometimes I think the best thing we can do is just be our most authentic selves and put that out in the world whatever way we’re able to in that day…” There was more, and it was all rather beautiful, but this particular line really struck me. Even when you’re exhausted and discouraged, show your love. Kindness should be a given, and yet somehow it feels nearly radical these days. Share yourself, your creativity, your kindness, your love.

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*Switching gears entirely. Finished a book last night. A book I never would have read if not for homeschooling. While some of the books, Gray and I have read for his sci-fi class genuinely have knocked my socks off (Octavia Butler’s ParableĀ books being the most recent),Ā Invasion of the Body SnatchersĀ is not that kind of book. But I have to admit it was fun! I enjoyed reading it far more than I would have guessed. Yeah, it was a bit silly, a bit cheesy. But like I said it was fun. Even a wee bit suspenseful at times. And definitely an interesting peak back at 1950s small-town America. Never would have read it if not for homeschooling, but I can’t say I’m one bit sorry that I did.

IMG_0660*My uncle died yesterday. I wasn’t close to this particular uncle, but my heart is breaking for Mom. He was her baby brother. Said baby being almost 74-years-old. He is actually the first of my uncles or aunts to die. It was a powerful reminder (there have been several of those in the last couple years) of how old my parents are getting to be. And of how I am not ready to lose them. But then, when is anyone ever ready to lose a parent…

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