Book Report

Now that my days are no longer consumed by “The Company”, I thought that I’d be able to return to my old of obsessively reading books from cover to cover as quickly as possible. I have some weighty presidential biographies that I’ve been waiting to dig into and I’ve got A Confederation of Dunces on my radar, which I think I should read because it’s “considered a canonical work of modern literature of the Southern United States.” Now that I’m Southern – what with the successful biscuit making and the blooming of the birds of paradise and all – I believe it is my duty to become familiar with that one.

As you know, I prefer a hardcover book in my hand to any other reading format. As much as I like talk radio and podcasts, I cannot abide books on tape or on an electronic reader. I buy hardcover books whenever they are available in the titles I want at a great discount from Abebooks.com. Discount meaning less than $5 total including shipping, sometimes $3. This is possible because I don’t traffic in recent works or the middling taste of the petite bourgeoisie. Some of these are library books that come with the warning that they may have written notes or highlighter on the pages, but I’ve never seen that. In fact, most of the library books that I’ve purchased this way are in pristine condition, some with the library cards showing only one or two checkouts. Sad.

Here’s my current stack of to be reads. The top two are in progress; the rest haven’t been touched.

I’m telling you all this now because I recently sought out the nearest branch of the county library. I usually find Google maps very helpful when I go someplace for the first time, not only for driving directions but to check out what the place looks like and some surrounding landmarks in case I overshoot. I swear to God this is the Google street view for the library , and it is accurate.

After a little back and forthing on a Florida backroad and peering through every clearing in the scrubby forest primeval , I did finally come face to face with the Jacksonville branch of  Florida State college which consists of two buildings. This branch of the county library is housed inside a poorly marked college building and takes up all of 500 sq ft.

Five. Hundred. Square. Feet.

But lo and behold, in the local newspaper not two days later was an article about how the library’s lease with the college is up in June and rather than pay increased fees for an insufficient space and so the library commission has identified an available 6,000 Sq ft space for potential relocation about a mile and a half from where I live!

Now back to my books. I don’t save them  but pass them on to others but my taste is sometimes so esoteric that not many share my ideas of what is a good read. Once the library is settled in the new space, I’m sure they’ll be open for donations to help fill the shelves. Here’s my scheme: my next purchases are from a single author and when I’m done with them, I look forward to the happy day that I can walk into the Yulee branch of the Nassau County library and donate the complete works of Kitty Kelley. Pretty sure this will be the only branch in the county that will be able to make that claim.

Author’s note: You must have a lot of time on your hands because you just read 600 boring words so that I could occupy myself with a mildly amusing daydream. I’m telling you, retirement is great.

Suzette At Rest

SUZETTE AT REST Announcement: I have retired from work. Whatever shall I do to fill my time? #retired #retiredlife #notworking #outofoffice #atliberty #free

     It happened. As I sit here beginning this blog post, I see by the clock that I’ve been retired for 24 hours and 2 minutes.  I believe it’s going well so far.

     The first thing I did this morning while the coffee was brewing was pick up a screwdriver and go outside to the front lawn to look for weeds to uproot. I have never intentionally done this before in my life. If I had happened to be passing by a particularly annoying  weed, I might have stooped to yank it out. Might even have  gone to get a screwdriver if I was sufficiently annoyed by its refusal to surrender to me. But this morning, I just casually thought it would be a good use of my time while I waited for the coffee.

     Apparently, my body automatically reset itself to retirement mode and I was acting from pure instinct. In the same way that newborn babies instinctively turn their mouths in the direction of the nipple, newly minted retirees must have the instinct to fret about their lawns. I have no other explanation.

     But I’m glad it happened, even though its not what the youngs would call hip. Or cool.  Or whatever the term is now. To me, it is a signal that I’m going to have an easy adjustment to a life of leisure.

     On the other hand, I find myself in an EXTREMELY ANNOYED state, which is entirely consistent with my pre-retirement attitude.  See that picture and caption up there? I posted them on Facebook and Instagram and no one even mentioned the hat. I’ve been saving that hat for more than a year for exactly this occasion. I admit that I got it for the impact I imagined when my coworkers saw the, so probably not meaningful to people who didn’t live and die by email. But still, you would think that it would generate a few remarks, wouldn’t you? But no.

      Also, it’s gone unnoticed that the bolded title of the posting is a reference to the John Updike book Rabbit At Rest. Harry Angstrom and I are both retired to Florida and are unable to “stop nibbling corn chips, macadamia nuts and other junk food.” That’s a joke. And it’s not true, she said while eyeing the pile of pistachio shells next to the keyboard. I just thought the phase would evoke the memory of the very famous Pultizer-prize winning novel.

     But it doesn’t bode well, does it, for me to be utterly and completely irritated by the fact that total strangers (for the most part)  who cannot read my body language or see my facial expressions would not immediately get the admittedly obscure references that are so clear to me in my head. It might be a sign that the road to retirement contentment is going to be rocky.

     But I forge ahead. Now that I’m no longer a High Powered Executive Business Woman, I feel like it would be appropriate for me to be doing something kitchen-y. One of my Ponderosa lemons is ready to be plucked, but I’m a little afraid of it. Not sure I can face even a thin slice of it’s reported “extreme tartness” floating on top of a cup of tea or perhaps a tankard of gin, so I do have a plan to make Lemon Marmalade out of it.

The small one in my hand is a red grapefruit. The big ones on the plant are Ponderosa Lemons.

    Wrinkle in the plan: I have never made marmalade before. So rather than taking a chance on ruining my lovely giant lemon which took about 8 months to mature, I’m going to make some sacrificial Grapefruit Vermouth Marmalade as a practice run. I just saw the recipe on the webs this week so it seems predestined, especially since I had the ingredients on hand. Those of you who know me in real life know that I am married to Mr. Sweet Rob Roy and we positively swim in sweet vermouth around here so all I needed to buy was 4 grapefruit. And some sugar.

 

     There we have it. I’m retired.