Toluu

Kaite's Book Shelf

Musings, ramblings, profundities and inanities, i.e. something for everyone.

The Goodbye SeasonSeptember 20

I love summer and I love fall. Summer evenings on my porch, listening to the cicadian symphony accompanied by the occasional timpani yowl of a neighborhood cat, watching the dusk turn gently to night , I can feel time stopping to listen and watch along with me. Autumn mornings stir my blood. Walking quickly to the bus stop through the crispy cool air, breathing hard to watch the small clouds of steam, and avoiding dewy grass, I am almost fooled into thinking my bus will be yellow and not green when it finally pulls up.

But like many of us, I don’t tolerate sudden change easily. For me, last week’s cold snap wasn’t a harbinger of more, but different, enjoyable weather. It reminded me that summer is coming to a close and I need to prepare for that, mentally, physically, spiritually. It was a forced period of transition and I balked. Those in-between days are my “goodbye season.” It didn’t last long, but I realized I wasn’t quite ready for summer to be over, even though I have many wonderful things in the fall to look forward to.

I’m not ready to abandon my garden. Folks in my neighborhood already think I’ve abandoned it, but now that the beds are ready and I have some weekend time, I want to plant sweet alyssum and snap dragons and lambs’ ear and cone flowers. It’s too late for that, yet I always thought I’d have plenty of time whenever I walked past the bare plots.

I’m not ready to say goodbye to my summer wardro

Review 'em & WeepMay 2

The funniest piece of writing I have seen in a cat's age is right here.

Don't waste any time. It's got a mystery, it's got heart, it's got a snooty secretary-type, a jaded-reviewer, a craggy editor, and a loveable guy dressed as Santa with all the answers.

Dealing them off the armApril 9

My mother always said have a backup skill in case those dreams of marrying wealthy and divorcing wealthier didn't work out. So I learned to type. Very fast. And typing was good. It paid for a trip to Ireland in my senior year of college. I couldn't believe how lazy all these student were who hadn't learned to type.

If one backup skill was good, two were better. So I became a waitress, which pays much better than typing and you get drinks at the end of the day. I used to regale my friends with "service industry" stories. Like the time I waited on 30 people on Mother's Day, couldn't take any other tables because this party kept dribbling in, growing larger and more demanding and ordering food every five minutes. After two hours, 45 goddam tossed salads with the dressing on the side, constant refills of Dr. Pepper, and a $300 check, one of the wives pressed a $5 dollar bill in my hand and thanked me for a lovely job. Her nephew was in the kitchen, cooking the day's food and she wanted to show her appreciation for his coworkers. For a brief moment I thought about beating her mightily around the head and face. But instead I laughed. I tipped my bartender with that fiver on my first drink of the evening.

Calling all Jane-iacs!January 6

You know who you are. If you're an academic, then you refer to yourself as a "Janeite." Those of us who are hip to Jane's trendster cred refer to ourselves as "Jane-iacs".

Catch a whole month of Jane-inspired programming, events, movies, book discussions and author visits at Kansas City Public Library's month long Jane-uary celebration.


Join the Jane-iac blog, too.

And the Angels try to bar the GatesNovember 10 2007

I have to put my grief someplace. We won't have Norman Mailer around anymore to epitomize the idea of a "man's writer." He was a macho, braying scoundrel, but I loved him anyway. A guy's guy. Guybrarian is probably mourning over a beer. Keir is staring blankly out the window of an El car. Bill is trying to compose a fitting Backpage.

Norman was street before all those faux "gangstas" made it a lifestyle.

Bye, Norman. And fug you for leaving us all behind.