No Matter the Format of Your Reading Material,

The cup of joe accompanying it should remain the same, at least mine will.

Love the slogan: "Human-Powered, All-Terrain Fuel," classic Humboldt County!

And now, boys and girls, for extra credit, what is the origin of the phrase, "cup of joe?" There are two primary theories, one involves the Navy and the other, Andy Warhol.  I prefer the Navy origination as "Navy" says "seas" and I'm all about the sea.

From the BBC's "The Guide to Life, The Universe, and Everything," (Ed. note:  the British would punctuate that with the comma after the end quotes, but then again, I'm not British):

In 1914, the secretary of the US Navy, Admiral Josephus 'Joe' Daniels abolished the officers' wine mess. From that time on the strongest (and apparently therefore the drink of choice) on board navy ships wascoffee. It was dubbed 'a cup of Joe' after the secretary.

'A cup of Joe' also refers to the GIs' favourite drink. During World War II the US defence workers were supplied with as much coffee as they wanted. Coffee was a source of warmth and comfort for battle-weary troups.
The slang was popular enough to be included in the Reserve Officer's Manual of 1931.
A variation on this theme has it that Joe refers to the average Joe, thus making 'a cup of Joe' the average drink of the average man.

or

There was a New York company named Martinson's Coffee (Andy Warhol liked to paint the cans) owned by a man named Joe Martinson. The neighbourhood of the company would be saturated by the aroma of roasting coffee, and coffee therefore became known as 'a cup of Joe'. 

Continuing the theme, "java" became synonymous with "joe" during the 19th century when the majority of the world's coffee came from the island of Java in Indonesia.

No matter where your morning cup of joe originates, it's better living through coffee, or in my case, there's no living until coffee.

From Port Townsend, WA

April Certainties: Raccoons, Books, Birthdays

It's the ides of April, i.e., April 15, and not even taxes are certain this year as the filing deadline is Monday, April 18!


What we can be certain of in April in Northern California: raccoons.

Here's to cayenne pepper!

Two days ago, someone who rises much earlier than me, reported that raccoon(s) were scratching away at the foundation vent pictured above after having ripped up all the ground cover in search of grubs. 


Two years ago, the &^%$^** raccoons had ripped off the already-compromised vent (a French [it's an important distinction, but one which I'll have to save for another post] electrician had opened it to install a floor outlet, but didn't properly re-seal) and enjoyed the under-house condo for about two weeks until four of them were trapped and re-located.  After their re-location, the six foundation vents were replaced and re-inforced.  


Not wanting to re-experience the cost, lack of sleep, and dealing with raccoon excrement of two years ago, I decided to reinforce the re-inforced vents and employ one of the home remedies suggested by my trapper who was used to dealing with 'coons: cayenne pepper.  I bought two of the largest jars I could find and spread them in front of the vents.  That's the orange-red powder. And it all seems to have worked:  no indication from either my early-rising roommate or the 'coons themselves that they've decided to revisit.  I stopped short of spraying foam insulation around the vents as raccoons will eat ANYTHING and I decided not to tempt them.


Another April certainty:  new books from established authors.  Spring and fall are the two biggest seasons in publishers' years, not to mention authors' lives, at least for those publishers and authors who are able to promote and commit to book tours.

Here's just one book from the list of April 2011 book debuts from one of my favorite mystery sites:

It's only appropriate that you have to turn yourself to read the book jacket.

I just finished reading Heads You Lose and am still marveling at the creativity of the two authors; it's genius, at the Quorum Group level; see page 87 of the book.

Birthdays: the last of the April certainties

Given the extreme weather of late (our March showers and mini-heat waves brought this lone flower to my garden),

it seems we can't even rely on the adage, "April showers bring May flowers," but I know I can always rely on the following birthdays occurring in April, rain or shine:

April 14: Alka

April 15: Jenny G. T.

April 22: Buddy (!), Kathy, Karen W.

April 23: Jenny T.

April 26: Rachel

So many, many happy returns (birthday, not tax) to all the above.

So what remains of the once-certain April certainties?  With apologies to Alfred Lord Tennyson and his "Charge of the Light Brigade,"

Ours is not to reason why,

Ours is but to be taxed and then die.*

*The correct, original phrase:

'Forward, the Light Brigade!' 

Was there a man dismay'd ? 

Not tho' the soldier knew 

Some one had blunder'd: 

Theirs not to make reply, 

Theirs not to reason why, 

Theirs but to do & die, 

Into the valley of Death 

Rode the six hundred. 

A Day Ahead

Who knew while I was strolling the waterfront that I'd be not only timely with the following photographs, but a day ahead:

National Library Week: National Bookmobile Day, April 13, 2011


I have fond memories of the bookmobile that came by my neighborhood growing up and for many years thought I might retire, find a suitable vehicle, perhaps a boat, and start my own traveling bookmobile.  It was through the bookmobile's offerings that I read my first Agatha Christie novel at age 11.

You can learn about the journey of this particular bookmobile here.

And, of course, tomorrow is part of National Library Week, so please support your local library.  And check out this article from CNN's librarian, Kerith Page McFadden,  for some fun facts about librarians.

B.B.C. & B.

Before Book Clubs and Blogs, how did we hear of must-read books? Knowing there was no “must-see” TV in my “Now Playing” TiVo queue, I headed to the library to pick up four books on hold and a mental note to check the staff-recommended DVDs. 

One of my first career lives was that of a paralegal and in my fourth law firm, an associate attorney was trying to keep us awake in the middle of the word-processing room as corporate and litigation documents were typed and printed for an early morning court appearance. In her words, she was a lawyer until she sold her first novel, a mystery involving health professionals (come on, she was a lawyer, no other plot details were divulged); and I told her my second-grade teacher, Dolores Hitchens, was a teacher until she sold her mystery novels but, unfortunately, I couldn't find any of them; this was 1988-90 and it wasn't until several years later that I was able to find Mrs. Hitchens' books at the Los Gatos library.  That's all it took for her recommendations to spew until I could find Mrs. Hitchens' books:

Sara Paretsky

Elizabeth George

Sue Grafton

By this time, the office manager had wandered into the word-processing room and added her two cents:

Stuart Kaminsky: Inspector Rostnikov series

His other two series are equally good and I'll leave you, Reader, to explore.

Diana Gabaldon

Even though this author was recommended to me more than 20 years ago, it was just last year that I picked up her first novel in the Outlander series.

By 1991, I was out of the paralegal career life and into the start of my campus/academic/university career life and, more importantly, had my initial access to this thing called a "world wide web." I spent many hours perfecting my "SQL" (standard query language, aka search engine language aka "Google" before there was Larry and Sergei) technique to both complete grant reports to federal agencies and to find out the weather on the other side of the world. In my "travels" there, the whole world of ILL, Inter-Library Loan, opened and I was hooked. We're now back to the future and here are a just a few of the authors I have recommended countless times as they all offer a bit of everything necessary to spin a great tale: plot, place, pace, character.

Deborah Crombie

Louise Penny

Susan Hill: Simon Serrailler series

Julia Spencer-Fleming

My four books on hold in hand, I walked the scenic route home (up through the redwood- and oak-tree covered hills) and gave the 

the little grey cells over to my recent return from a retirement reconnaissance trip to northern Humboldt County. I was eager to compare and contrast my list of retirement must-haves between my current and potential future homes. And, of course, one of those must-haves is a library open seven days a week (Since moving out of my parents' home some 30+ years ago, my "home" towns [7 of them] met that requirement).  And although neither the library in Blue Lake, population 1,103 or Arcata, population 16,000 +/-, is open seven days a week, it might be time re-think "how" a library is open seven days a week given this little thing called the "world wide web."

Around the World by Private/Public Library

This brochure was in my mailbox (the one outside my house: how long will we be able to say that?) last week and at first, had me a bit frightened that Orwell's 1984 had manifested itself in the form of Big Brother's mind-reading, then it just irritated me. 


I haven't been on an airplane since May 2008 for a number of reasons, but the primary one being, for me, for domestic travel, it's just not worth it.  It's gone way beyond a-bus-in-the-sky experience.  And I've often said that the only way I'd travel by plane, domestically, would be by private jet. Then this brochure arrives and I start dreaming of where I'd go, all before even opening the brochure.


National Geographic's stellar reputation precedes itself and this brochure only confirms that:  there's a team of experts, researchers, explorers, all top-notch in their fields, ready to share their worlds.  And calling this experience "an epic expedition" is no doubt true.  But at what price, literally and figuratively?  The literal price is $65-$67,000 per person, depending on time of year.  The figurative price?  Incalculable, boundless, enormous, inestimable, you get the idea.  Just think of the impact to the environment, at large, then the impact to the smaller environment: the villages, the lakes, the groves, etc. that will be visited during this "epic expedition." 


Yes, National Geographic has been at this a long time and I'm sure it employs mitigating steps along the way, but the elitist bent to the trip really bothered me.  So, here is my own reading list for you to travel "around the world by private/public library." (I've touched on both places to be visited by National Geographic journey and my own favorites.)


*The Agony and The Ecstasy by Irving Stone
"The passionate biographical novel of Michelangelo" and an excellent background to viewing his artistic genius throughout the museums of Italy today, not to mention it reads like a novel as Stone breathes life into the creator of David, painter of the Sistine ceiling, architect of the dome of St. Peter's and, my favorite, The Pieta (pre- or post- encased).


*A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth
Mentioned in an earlier post, but worth a second mention here.  Read this and you too will succumb to the author's images of daily life in India and smell the dirt, taste the curry and hear the cacophony that is India's street traffic.


*The Island of Lost Maps, A True Story of Cartographic Crime by Miles Harvey
"Every once in a blue moon you read a book that leaves you absolutely breathless, reminding you of the bright, hidden worlds within our world (emphasis mine). This is that book, a glimmering supersonic journey into terra incognita, where Miles Harvey, acting as writer and sleuth, pursues America's greatest map thief. This is a riveting, hilarious book of twists and turns, unexpected confessions and deep human truths.  You will not rest until the last page." -Michael Paterniti, author of Driving Mr. Albert: A Trip Across America with Einstein's Brain (Ed. note: Catchy title!)


*Egypt: Read anything by Elizabeth Peters in her Amelia Peabody series; there are more than a dozen.


*Gould's Book of Fish, A Novel in 12 Fish by Richard Flanagan
From the front jacket: Once upon a time when the earth was still young, before all the fish in the sea and all the living things on land began to be destroyed, a man named William Buelow Gould was sentenced to life imprisonment at the Sarah Island penal colony of Van Diemen's land---now Tasmania. A talented phony and art forger, Gould was enlisted by the prison doctor . . ."  Find this book at your local library or used book store; it's worth it and you'll find, despite his surroundings, Gould's story is "an affirmation of life rather than a lament for it.  And, yes, Tasmania, has always been on my list of places to experience.


Where would you journey?

Patsy Bolt: Bookbinder extraordinaire, dancer, musician, cyclist, friend

Heard the news last night that a friend and colleague had died.  Not sure of the circumstances and not sure it really matters other than for those left behind.  Before her "retirement" (not sure anyone would say Patsy ever retired) to Santa Barbara with her husband, Fred, Patsy worked in the conservation lab at Stanford Libraries and we learned about each other's lives as we spent many days cleaning old, dusty railroad ledgers and account books.

She lived her art when not earning her paycheck:  studying bookbinding in Berkeley, Morris dancing, playing the harmonium and working in her garden in Santa Barbara. Following is just a few examples of her artistry (keep in mind these books are all miniatures):

I would say "rest in peace," Patsy, but I know there'll be no resting for you.  You're probably cycling the mountain roads of heaven as we speak; that, or teaching a few of the winged persons the finer points of harmonium playing.

The Last Word

I’ve read obituaries for about 35 years and would guess that’s a much earlier start than my contemporaries: people in their fabulous fifties.  Since learning I couldn’t be a lion when I grew up (see “Bending Time and Growing Young” entry for background), I thought I better check into what adventures I could experience and get a handle on how best to live them.  There’s no better place to start that exploration than reading obituaries and autobiographies; what else is a great obituary but an abbreviated autobiography?

This might also explain my life-long fascination with cemeteries and the history buried (couldn’t resist that one) there and evident on some of the headstones’ etchings. In a cemetery on San Juan Island, off the coast of Washington, Pearl Fitzhugh Little will always be known as “Legendary Island Fisherwoman” and each person who passes and reads her headstone will remember as well.

Prior to departing for my silent meditation retreat in India, I traveled to New Zealand for almost 30 days of “tramping” (hiking) on both islands of that beautiful country and thought I should write an updated will. This led to obvious thoughts of my death and from there, to thoughts of what would I want said about my life, if anything, at a celebration of the same.

My will was handwritten and on several different types of paper (my love of books extends to the parts of the book and most especially, hand-made paper) and in addition to the boring legalese, irreverently modified*, of course (Mom always said, “You do things differently.”), specified songs to be played --- Lyle Lovett’s rendition, “Do Not Pass Me By” and “She Wept a Big Tear,” among others --- and food to be served --- margarita fountain (only top-drawer tequila, please) and all entrees Mexican, a la Los Golondrinas or Andales.

And to close the celebration, I wanted the following read:

“I have sometimes dreamt that when the Day of Judgment dawns, the Almighty will turn to Peter and will say when He sees me approaching with books under my arm, “Look, she needs no reward.  We have nothing to give her here. She has loved reading.” (With apologies to Virginia Woolf and the Bloomsbury Group)

For some of the best send-offs of both ordinary and extraordinary persons, see Margalit Fox’s obituaries in The New York Times or check out The Dead Beat by Marilyn Johnson (Harper Collins, 2006) where Margalit and the pleasures of obituaries are featured.

Here’s just one of her best that I clipped as part of my growing file of what I might grow up to be:

     Burt Todd: Adventurer, Advisor to Monarchs

     Burt Kerr Todd, an entrepreneur, adventurer and international deal-maker whose quixotic dreams and outlandish schemes more than occasionally paid off, as when he introduced the postage stamp to the tiny kingdom of Bhutan or resold the gently used Rolls Royces of down-at-heels maharajas at a handsome profit, died April 28.

     A dazzling raconteur . . . finessed his way into graduate school at Oxford . . . was once treed in Bhutan by a rampaging elephant . . . once tried to found a small kingdom himself, on a deserted coral reef in the South Pacific.  Its entire infrastructure was to be built on postage stamps.  His dream was dashed, he later said, after Tongan gunboats blew his island paradise to ruins.

     Except for the gunboats, all of the above is true, said his daughter.

*irreverently modified examples:

~I, TFJ, formally and legally Patricia (never Pat or Patty)

~share of the property commonly (I like to think it’s more “classically”) known

~I nominate _________ as my executrix (knowing she won’t act like a dominatrix)

~to pay all my debts and taxes, that by reason of my death . . . provided she has first explored to the fullest extent of the law, any and all ways to get out of these payments.  Long live the Montana Freewoman’s Association!

~that I am of the age of majority (but still feel only 37)