Wow, my blog is still here! It’s been a whirlwind few weeks, but everything is ok. Both of my gorgeous moms are still fighting their battles- my mom will be getting a mastectomy in January, and my MIL is halfway through her chemo- she’s tough, but I’m worried. She’s so, so little. At Thanksgiving she insisted on sitting at the kid’s table, and when I say the Kid’s table, I mean the one with the chairs 2 feet off the ground. LOL. She looked right at home with her 4’11 self.
The little ones were so, so glad to see her. She took care of them 2 days a week since they were born, but I’ve been keeping them away because she’s immunosuppressed, and all anyone needs is germy lil kids climbing all over her. But I could tell how happy she was to see them, too. She colored with a fierce joy, and played trains with reckless abandon.
In a fit of escapism this week, I’ve read about 10 Lee Child novels. (Yes, my house is a mess.) If you don’t know Lee Child, he’s a master of army mystery/thrillers. He’s created one of my favorite literary characters of all time, Jack Reacher. Reacher is a 6’5 military policeman, with blue eyes, who can handle anything that comes his way as long s he’s had a cup of coffee. He has an internal alarm clock that I’m insanely jealous of, and a knack for the ladies and attracting trouble. I also really like Lee’s female characters, who are usually characterized as hot by how smart and strong they are. Well, and their legs.
There’s just something really attractive about moving through the world with the kind of confidence Jack Reacher has. It’s not a swagger or bravado, but a certainty born of experience. Pret-ty cool. Now, if you don’t like violence, don’t read em, for sure. But overall, I’m not looking forward to returning them to the library.
In the one I’m reading right now, “The Enemy”, has a question about what are the sounds unique to the 21st century. Reacher says armored tanks, but thinks some optimist somewhere would say a Beatles song. It reminded me of how much I love the Beatles. I first heard them at sleepaway camp when I was eleven.
There was a boy (isn’t there always?) names Adrian, who played Strawberry Fields Forever all the time, and Penny Lane. But when I got home and got my very own first Beatles record, the song that caught my ear and wouldn’t let go was “Lady Madonna.” Maybe because I feel like there aren’t that many Beatles songs from a female perspective, or because I love the fact that they said “Baby at your breast” all the way back then. And of course, the fact that the piano is so Fats Domino boogie woogie based is very appealing.
How bout you? Favorite Beatles song? I posit that even those who don’t like the Beatles have a favorite.
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