I never cease to be amazed at how quickly Amazon can get books to this small country in the South Pacific. Dealing with the downstream impact of my adoption so many years later has been really traumatic but it is wonderful that someone is listening to my feelings and thoughts which are apparently quite normal.
This book arrived yesterday and after rushing through my end of day tasks I sat down, magnifier at the ready, to devour it. I am sure I wrote this book and have forgotten. Why have I never been introduced to it before; descriptions of everything I feel and the way I act exploded from the page into my soul. After 30 pages I have a book full of post it notes, thoughts and ideas. This may even be a book I write in the margins of - it is stunning.
I also purchased this book and will delve into it as soon as I have completed the Primal Wound. I am hoping it offers me tools for my journey to self, authenticity and greater understanding of why I am the way I am.
I am also searching the Blind Foundation library website for travel books, mostly of Germany and France. I still believe I have much travel to do there and need to explore my options, the memoirs of other single women travellers, thoughts, anecdotes and ideas.
Tartettes, fondant au chocolat, croissants, oh yes. France may be my next destination even though one of the pastries has kiwifruit as a decoration.
I am having a DVD splurge and last night watched this movie. I was fascinated by the journey the two women were on and the unsolicited support they provided for each other under difficult circumstances.
Men can really be the pits - Ria's husband was a real lothario and the grief both women were living with could have destroyed them. A wonderful movie, a good book I am sure, and it has encouraged me to explore another genre of book I would not have considered previously. I love Dublin, therefore the setting was familiar, more books to read.
I am off to an important meeting that may bring me fame and fortune, more likely an ongoing role in the NZ disability community through my writing and reading skills.
Dublin is one of the cities of my dreams, I loved it, could live there, books, music, food. James Joyce seemed to be around every corner.
I read the book of Eat, Pray, Love when it first came out and I was on a journey of discovery of my own. I never managed to see the movie when it came out so last night I settled down, remote control in hand, what an amazing portrayal by Julia Roberts of Elizabeth Gilbert's journey. Stories of loss abound in my life and her experience of being lonely when first arriving in Rome resonated like loud dissonance in my ears. This journey, a very personal journey, has surely changed the lives of many women who wonder why they made the choices they did when young and live lives of unhappy acceptance. Now I am a woman who needs a word - French, Italian, English - a word which will embody my journey into new adventures.
This morning, with a new and invigorated interest in life I explored my Amazon.com kindle website and discovered her book Committed which I understand is about her new marriage, forced by the US Government to her beloved Brazilian and also The Signature of All Things which, from the blurb on Amazon, appears to be a novel about a botanist. I need to do more reading in the holidays, I have more books unread than read on my kindle, joys to be savoured and time to explore the memories and lives of others.
I really want to travel again and continue to explore the world. Perhaps I need to read more memoirs by brave and uncompromising women to get the joie de vivre back in my life and begin planning.
A small French village, my new travel dream, now all I need is a companion!
Friends come in many shapes and colours. Some remain friends, others cross boundaries into zones where they cause damage and lack the intuition to see the effects of their casual words. Last night I had to explain why I had not replied to another woman's texts. While she apologised for her words it is not enough as the damage she has caused with her ill-considered opinions and ignorant comments sent me escaping to friends of safety. We all need to consider that the old adage 'sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me' is completely untrue.
I have almost finished Saving the Queen and given that there are apparently 7 books in the series it was safe to assume that Oakes would survive the dog fight over London and live to fly under the CIA's command for another day. One of the fun things about talking books is the lack of influence a cover brings, a genre imposes or a review suggests. Many of my choices are a lucky dip gleaned from short reviews sent out each week to members of the RNZFB's library. I scour these emails and when short of good books also trawl the online catalogue. I like to have a selection of books to choose from on my VRS, just like any fully sighted person.
I am always fascinated to see the cover of the book I have in front of me appear replicated on the screen. The wonders of technology. I purchased this book along with others at the British War Museum in London two years ago. I have just begun searching it for poems which reflect the agony and wastefulness of war. With events marking the beginning of WW1 now occurring in France and Belgium, plans are well organised to mark the disaster that was ANZAC Cove, Gallipoli in 1915. War is so unnecessary and brings tragedy to lives far removed from its theatre. A poem a night is often all I can tolerate, reflection is paramount.
The title of this post is not about travel, tramping or penguins playing their way through hilarious adventures. My feet are sore; arthritis has caused an unbalanced gait and today I have an appointment at the Shoe Clinic with a podiatrist to discover if there is any type of walking shoe I can wear. I doubt my complaints have been taken seriously before, I intend making pain very clear today.
I have purchased several books on Paris for my Kindle recently. These include Paris, Paris, Journey into the City of Light and Paris Was Ours by Penelope Rowlands. This book is selections of writing by thirty two well known writers around their journey's into the writers life of Paris.
I reviewed this book several months ago but it has had a huge impact on my life. I found Paris daunting but this memoir, particularly Janice's letters, set my newly acquired artistic mind alight. A new convert to Art Journaling, her letters encouraged me to expand into single pages covered in collage and quotes. Words are my lifeblood - I was asked on Tuesday who I am and where do I live, not literally, my own response startled me. "I live in the pages of a book". Paris Letters has been a catalyst to exploring the mixed media of paint and words.
If anyone reading this blog knows how to set up a comments box could they please let me know. I and others have tried several times to no avail. Surely it cannot be that difficult!
I am thoroughly enjoying Saving the Queen although was a bit stunned this morning to read a very vivid description of Oakes receiving a caning at the prestigious boarding school his step father had sent him to in England. It was more of a beating rather than a caning and one wonders how many of today's stiff upper-lipped men who are absorbing their anger to their own and their family's detriment is as a direct result of this barbaric treatment. Perhaps this is an explanation for teachers turning a blind eye to bullying, they can no longer give out punishments so quietly support the bullies who do so.
I purchased this book for my kindle at the weekend. While I am unsure if my skills are sufficient to try this as an added art form I hope to begin reading it today. Art is proving to be a wonderful outlet for me as I struggle to overcome the negativity's of the past. Yesterday I began a new journal, one which will explore my thoughts and feelings about the future, the quietness of life, new beginnings and ideas. perhaps mapping may provide me with a journey into a realm I had previously not explored.
Writing has taken second place in my interests at present and I was disappointed to receive an email this morning reminding me I had not entered the Scottish Book Trust competition for a story about home.
Jay is bored as outings have reduced while I recover from my time of negativity. He is bursting out of his skin to go for a long walk, something I cannot do at present while my feet are so sore. I am beginning to dread the walk to work tomorrow, and home again, hopefully I can get my feet comfortable so the rest of my being does not compensate for the pain. Arthritis is not something I believed would ever be predicated on my body, life offers many twists and turns which are unexpected and certainly painful.
I have a rather unusual interest which some people find extremely odd, I love reading about the royal families of Europe, particularly the younger members who are slowly taking over the reins and becoming young and vibrant Kings and Queens. My particular favourite is Crown Princess Mary of Denmark, previously an Australian I think we have all applauded her fairytale life with Frederik. I have watched all the You Tube videos of the new King Felipe and Queen Letizia of Spain. These royals are all far more interesting than our stuffy British royalty.
Saving the Queen is proving to be an interesting read and in the middle of the night CIA training tactics seem quite mild. 1951 may have been during the Cold War, but their rather introverted methods of putting an agent in the field seem very old fashioned and outdated. I gather this may be the first in a series of Oakes CIA exploits, I will need to check this although I am not sure spy novels are a genre I would wish to pursue.
Art Journaling has finally taken hold of me and I have bought two more kindle books on the subject, one a book of prompts, the other map journaling which sounds fascinating for a traveller. I have done several pieces over the weekend and hope to do more today, it needs to become an ongoing hobby.
Broadchurch, a TV series I have been avidly watching on Sunday nights reaches it unexpected conclusion next Sunday. I know who did it, a most unexpected murderer, perhaps I wish the series was not so well described on the internet where the identity of this person has been revealed. I have also purchased the DVD of Philomena, a movie which made me very angry, I will watch it when I feel emotionally capable of doing so.
I finished Digging to America last night and it ended in a rather predictable way with the Iranian grandmother making a decision that she needed to accept America and Americans rather than continually railing against their mores. I suspect that many of us are anti-American having viewed their endless imposition of their values on a variety of nations from the Caribbean to Iraq. As a traveller I find their brusque loud manner rude and overbearing so could totally understand the themes of this book woven around refugees, adoption and inter-country misunderstandings.
Making a decision to open this book on my VRS at some ungodly hour may prove fortuitous. I doubt I have ever read a spy novel, certainly I cannot remember having done so. Blackford Oakes applies to join the CIA and with a mother living in London which provides adequate cover, he is sent to discover the source of a leak involving a Queen Caroline and the royal household. An ex-fighter pilot and Yale graduate, Oakes is debonair and intelligent. I hope this turns out to be as interesting a book as it appears in an hour or so of listening last night.
I am still reading Rushing Women's Syndrome by Dr Libby Weaver. So much of this book fits my stressed out life which has come to a head of late. I am hoping to gain skills which will allow me to recognise when I am becoming stressed, over tired and beginning to burn out. Tired adrenal glands appear to be the source of many women's issues.
Four days to relax and enjoy doing as little or as much as I choose is very precious. My arthritis is painful so walking and getting fresh air may be out of the question so I will have to garden or sit outside in the sun. Perhaps my next book will have to be about diet and exercise for sore joints, I just hope there is one for kindle or in large print.
I have continued to read Digging to America with a growing understanding of the impact and implosions that adoption brings to one's life. This week I have been recommended a book called The Primal Wound which unfortunately was not available for kindle so I have ordered the book from Amazon. I am expecting a huge enlightenment on my own life, thoughts and feelings.
I have just started reading this book on my kindle. The author has just arrived in Damascus and is exploring his surroundings which already enchant him. With Syria being at the forefront of much of our news of late I am sure this will prove to be an insightful and challenging book to read.
I need to explore my books on art journaling again. Time and being overly busy has impacted on my time to enjoy this new hobby. While books on Amazon look very interesting I need to read more deeply the ones I already have on the subject. Practice is meant to make perfect so I need to stop thinking and take part!
I began reading this last night on my VRS. Initially I assumed it was a non-fiction work but quickly became aware it is fiction. The story of two very different families who meet at Baltimore Airport while waiting for children they have adopted from Korea, lives intertwine and acknowledgement of difference is a theme explored from several angles. One family is all American, the other Iranian immigrants. Simply written it appeals as an easy listen, exploration of adoption - I am adopted - and an expose of what it means to be American. The two small girls seem almost adjunct to the story, I hope they are part of the theme as they grow past babyhood.
I am still enjoying Our House is Definitely not in Paris on my Kindle. It is both an interesting and subtle memoir, renovating on both sides of the world is not for the fainthearted. Explanations of the simplicity of life in the French countryside are exquisite, especially the bricole and other sources of French memorabilia. This book is enough to make me dream of a month in France - perhaps!
My philosophical and sociological training has made me angrier and angrier about a friend's response to my text regarding my desire to work. It is not all my Piscean nature, her ignorance and opinionated response leaves much to be desired. Why do I allow other people's beliefs to take such precedence in my thinking.
I will be completing one of my archiving positions this week due to difficult working conditions and severe eye strain. While it seems unusual for someone with a 'pieced together' work life to resign from a day's well paid work my health and wellbeing is far more important. I have been offered other work more commensurate with my passions and qualifications, I hope I can align myself with this type of work over the next few weeks.
Yesterday I attended a workshop run by 'Think Differently', a section of the Ministry of Social Development who are attempting to change attitudes to disability in the community. It focused on getting positive messages out to the media, print, radio and television. Each participant was interviewed and then their interview was critiqued by the group. Working with high level journalists such as press reporters, Radio NZ journalists and similar was a real privilege.
I have done little reading this week, each book I have attempted on my VRS has ended up with me pushing the delete button and I am ensconced in the Readers Digest at present. I receive voluminous emails from Amazon about books they are certain I should read but in most cases I delete them. Recently I have purchased a large number of books for my kindle and will spend much of the rest of this year perusing them.
I find it disappointing that some authors still refuse to allow their books to be available in e-book format. There are many books I hear of but when checking online discover they are only available in hardcover. While I understand the mores of income for authors and royalties perhaps they do not understand the needs of vision impaired people to access print in the same way as fully sighted people do.
I must get back to my copy of Rushing Women's Syndrome as it appears I am part of this new phenomenon. This is meant to be a day of fun, hopefully it will include some reading.
Finishing the compact history of South Africa early this morning I trawled the books stored on my VRS for something new to read. Several weeks ago I downloaded Time magazine's 100 most influential people. It sounds interesting but I may not last the distance given that the first person mentioned is Beyonce. Why does the world have such a fascination with pop stars, actors, sports stars and the like rather than with ordinary people doing extraordinary things. No wonder our young fail to see what is good and correct in this world when their 'stars' are drug takers, wife beaters, constant divorcees and the like. I am hoping that as I read closer to the last 10 people who are truly worth admiring and respecting have made the final few.
I have begun searching Amazon.com kindle books at least twice a week as often there are bargains of books I have on my 'to buy' list. I am sure everybody has times when they are attracted by books from a particular genre and buy several only to tire of the subject and move on. I counted up how many books I have unread on my kindle, more than I would like to admit. While this is to be my 'year of reading widely' from both the talking, kindle and real book options I find that my eyes often make reading in the evening impossible. As a result I have spent several evenings watching DVD's I borrowed from the school library. Two of these, 'Earth' and 'Water' are made in India and are based around the upheaval in their culture in 1947 when achieving independence from Britain. Much of what is portrayed is horrifying - child widows, suttee, racial and religious tensions, divisions of the country, misuse of the innocence of children, rape and pillage. Despite having such a huge population and customs so different from my own I am horrified at their treatment of women and children. Movies worth watching, not for the fainthearted.
A Rainbow in the Night is an interesting yet basic expose of the history of South Africa. Written in an interesting and quite racy style I have now passed the Christian Barnard era and have moved on to Nelson Mandela naming his grandchild, a child who is the same age as its mother was when he was arrested. A deeper investigation of the impact of apartheid may need to be added to my reading list which incidentally is getting longer and longer. So many books to read, so little time to do it in!
I found this book in my local bookshop at the weekend and have been reading it quite slowly attempting to absorb all the facts about something I am sure I have. I have begun to wonder at the impact of the fight to give women equality with men, have we not only destroyed masculinity but have we dismissed the value of parenting for consumerism and incomes which seem ridiculous. While Libby Weaver bases this book on her biochemical knowledge I am sure the stresses we put on our body to compete and earn money is causing ill health. My friend may be right when she commented I was close to burnout.
Jay is glad of the break from sitting under my desk in a cold environment at work and does not realise he may also have tomorrow off. I am visiting the GP today as well as the Osteopath to cover all bases in my desire to return to energy and full health.
A friend recently expressed concern that I may be suffering from burnout. While I have not reached that level I am very tired, have a sore neck and little time for the things in life I really enjoy. I have appointments next week to try and decide on a selective route back to health, hopefully this will remove my stress.
I have started reading this book on my VRS. Although just a basic outline of the history of South Africa I was unaware, despite my years of reading, that apartheid was really a recent phenomenon in this country. Some of the stories are horrifying and one wonders if the Dutch may still view people with a different skin colour as being of lesser importance. I may be led to read deeper into the history of this awkward country where people, mostly white, are still leaving in droves to escape black rule and crime.
One is led to wonder how Hitler could have influenced a country so removed from Germany.
I am continuing with Susan Cutsforth's book, Our House is Certainly not in Paris but wish I felt more like reading in the evening. Her journey of renovation and living the French lifestyle for several weeks each year is a wonderful memoir.
last night I watched the movie Sarah's Key. Very poignant and moving, I also felt a connection with the story of my father which is partly written, now needs to be finished. Tragedy can implode on any of us at any time and its consequences can lead to strength or destruction.
I have been a long time reading this book on my kindle. While I understand it has never been out of print since first published in the late 1970's something about Robyn Davidson did not ring true. I found the last couple of chapters and the update at the end more realistic as she described her motivation, challenges, personal thoughts which emanated from both the experience and who she is far more interesting. A challenge for me, as a vision impaired person, is to travel the world solo. I fail to see anything spectacular in this and perhaps cannot understand the motivation behind dragging camels and a dog across the horrendous heat of the Australian desert. Possibly Robyn's later choices have made me a little cynical, but she seems to have done this journey for reasons I think she really fails to reveal.
Having read Our House is not in Paris several months ago I felt Our House is Certainly not in Paris would be a wonderful sequel. I started this book today while devouring the first piece of corned beef I have eaten in 10 years and am already hooked on Susan Cutforth's second book. The romantic idea of two Australians having a country home in the Dordogne fascinates me. The first book was about the purchase and challenge of renovating a dilapidated home in a small French village. I can't wait to see what adventures await them as the house is finished and they can both begin to assimilate for several weeks each year into a quiet French lifestyle.
I was fascinated to receive a text today from a friend on the Kapiti Coast who was off to the library. When I expressed doubt it would be open on Queen's Birthday she said it only closed three days a year. What a wonderful service for a community mostly made up of elderly people.
Work looms again tomorrow. I am not sure my quiet weekend may have been detrimental to my sanity around too many hours of work. Possibly I should have gone further than the mall this weekend, but hopefully the rest will have given me a positive start to the week.
