Does This Mean You'll See Me Naked? (Field Notes from a Funeral Director) is a common question for Robert Webster. As the owner and director of a funeral home, he hears this question surprisingly often. Spoiler alert: yes, your funeral director will see you naked. But you'll be dead, so who really cares at that point? This in-depth look at the mortuary field (I promise Webster minimizes the gruesome details) is quite fascinating, and not at all as morbid as many of you are probably thinking. His thirty plus years in the business offer lots of interesting, funny and enlightening stories, from body collection to fist fights at funerals. Webster also offers a wealth of mortuary information to his readers, including things like how much a casket (it's not a coffin) should cost, why funeral home and cemetery staff are often just greedy salespersons (and why/how you should chose wisely), the rules around next of kin and heirs, how the field differs from his native Ohio to other areas of the country, among others. This book is quick and easy to get through and a must-read for anyone who expects to ever lose someone...in other words, just about everyone. 4/5- Great. Push it on your friends and family.
In My Life The Beatles, Artist Lennon, John & McCartney, Paul, Writers
There are places I remember All my life, though some have changed. Some forever not for better, Some have gone and some remain. All these places have their moments With lovers and friends I still can recall Some are dead and some are living In my life I've loved them all. But of all these friends and lovers There is no one compares with you. And these memories lose their meaning When I think of love as something new. Though I know I'll never lose affection For people and things that went before. I know I'll often stop and think about them In my life I love you more. Though I know I'll never lose affection For people and things that went before I know I'll often stop and think about them In my life I love you more In my life I love you more
Despite a busy holiday week, after several of weeks of beginning books I just couldn't get "into", I finally was able to settle into a couple of books!
Currently Reading: The Winter of Our Disconnect (Susan Maushart) Just Finished:
Does This Mean You'll See Me Naked (Robert Webster) On Deck: So many great choices!
...or as a friend says, "Happy Fat American Day"! Wishing all my American readers a very Happy Thanksgiving! Hoping it was filled with family, friends and many reasons to be thankful, as mine was. I have countless blessings to be thankful for this year...family, friends, my kitty, health (mine and others), my amazing diva sisters (from another mother) and the awesome opportunities we have to share music with others, a job that allows me to share with others this year... The list goes on and on! For my non-American readers... You all really should join in! Buy a turkey. Get up at 4am to put it into the oven. Spend the rest of the day cooking, eating until you feel like you're gonna puke and serving your family and friends like an Applebees waitress. Then spend several hours cleaning up after everyone, only to discover that you're hungry again! Seriously! You're missing out!
A nice little song to remind us all to be thankful!
Oklahoma
Billy Gilman, Artist
John Allen and D. Vincent Williams, Writers
Suitcase packed with all his things Car pulls up, the doorbell rings He don't wanna go He thought he'd found his home But the circumstances he can't change Waves goodbye as they pull away From the life he's known For the last seven months or so She said we found the man who looks like you Who cried and said he never knew About the boy in pictures that we showed him A rambler in his younger days He knew he made a few mistakes But he swore he would have been there Had he known it Son we think we found your dad in Oklahoma A million thoughts raced through his mind What's his name, what's he like and will he be Anything like the man in his dreams She could see the questions in his eyes Whispered "don't be scared my child I'll let you know, what we know" About the man we found, he looks like you And cried and said he never knew About the boy in pictures that we showed him A rambler in his younger days He knew he'd made a few mistakes But he swore he would've been there Had he known it You always said that this was something that you wanted Son it's time to meet your Dad in Oklahoma One last turn he held his breath 'Til they reached the fifth house on the left And all at once the tears came rolling in And as they pulled into the drive A man was waiting there outside Who wiped the worry from his eyes Smiled and took his hand And he said I'm the man who looks like you Who cried because I never knew About that boy in pictures that they showed me A rambler in my younger days I knew I made a few mistakes But I swear I would have been there had I known it Never again will you ever be alone Son welcome to your home in Oklahoma
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Usually Wednesdays are saved for new reviews, but it has been a very slow reading/blogging week for me! So, I figured I'd join in this week...
What are you currently reading? I Think I Love You by Allison Pearson (very cute so far...)
What did you recently finish reading? Adrift, Seventy-six Days at Sea by Steven Callahan (good adventure story...) What do you think you’ll read next? My list is so long, I don't really know... I just sort of go online with my ipad and pick whatever looks good. Though, I do tend to flop back and forth from fiction to non-fiction, so likely it will be a memoir of some sort. Maybe you'll come back to visit me to find out?
County road 233, under my feet Nothin' on this white rock but little ole me. I've got two miles, 'til he makes bail And if I'm right we're headed straight for hell! I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun, Wait by the door and light a cigarette. If he wants a fight well now he's got one And he ain't seen me crazy yet. He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll... Don't that sound like a real man?! I'm going to show him what a little girls are made of Gunpowder and lead! It's half past ten, another six pack in And I can feel the rumble like a cold black wind. He pulls in the drive, the gravel flies, He don't know what's waiting here this time! I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun, Wait by the door and light a cigarette. If he wants a fight well now he's got one And he ain't seen me crazy yet. He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll... Don't that sound like a real man?! I'm going to show him what a little girls are made of Gunpowder and lead! His fist is big but my gun's bigger, He'll find out when I pull the trigger! I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun, Wait by the door and light a cigarette. If he wants a fight well now he's got one And he ain't seen me crazy yet. He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll... Don't that sound like a real man?! I'm going to show him what a little girls are made of Gunpowder and lead! Gunpowder and lead! Hey!
Crap, its been a slow week, blogging-wise. I hadn't finished a book last week, so I didn't post a review. And again this week, I just haven't gotten there yet! I don't know why. I have a wealth of great books available to me via my ipad and library...I just have not been able to get "into" anything these past couple of weeks. Maybe I'm just a little burnt out? To say nothing of the chaos and craziness of election day and then the long weekend, which I always find it hard to post during, and efforts to clean up the yard before the final yard waste pickup this weekend. Anyway, I'm just off... Sorry! Even the kitty was annoyed...
Hopefully next week will be better as I am on vacation! Yippee!
I won't forget when Peter Pan came to my house, took my hand
I said I was a boy; I'm glad he didn't check.
I learned to fly, I learned to fight
I lived a whole life in one night
We saved each other's lives out on the pirate's deck.
And I remember that night
When I'm leaving a late night with some friends
And I hear somebody tell me it's not safe,
someone should help me
I need to find a nice man to walk me home.
When I was a boy, I scared the pants off of my mom,
Climbed what I could climb upon
And I don't know how I survived,
I guess I knew the tricks that all boys knew.
And you can walk me home, but I was a boy, too.
I was a kid that you would like, just a small boy on her bike
Riding topless, yeah, I never cared who saw.
My neighbor come outside to say, "Get your shirt,"
I said "No way, it's the last time I'm not breaking any law."
And now I'm in this clothing store, and the signs say less is more
More that's tight means more to see, more for them, not more for me
That can't help me climb a tree in ten seconds flat
When I was a boy, See that picture? That was me
Grass-stained shirt and dusty knees
And I know things have gotta change,
They got pills to sell, they've got implants to put in,
they've got implants to remove
But I am not forgetting...that I was a boy too
And like the woods where I would creep, it's a secret I can keep
Except when I'm tired, 'cept when I'm being caught off guard
And I've had a lonesome awful day, the conversation finds its way
To catching fire-flies out in the backyard.
And so I tell the man I'm with about the other life I lived
And I say, "Now you're top gun, I have lost and you have won"
And he says, "Oh no, no, can't you see
When I was a girl, my mom and I we always talked
And I picked flowers everywhere that I walked.
And I could always cry, now even when I'm alone I seldom do
And I have lost some kindness
But I was a girl too.
And you were just like me, and I was just like you" I welcome your thoughts and comments.
Including: Kisses for Katie - Katie Davis My Boyfriend Wrote a Book About Me - Hilary Winston The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake - Aimee Bender Three Happy Birthdays - Judith Caseley The Case of the Hungrey Stranger Grandma and Grandpa Smith - Edith Kunhardt The Christmas Day Kitten - James Herriott Adrift - Steven Callahan What Happens to Kittens - Bill Hall The Sneeze - David Wegner Little Bunny Follow His Nose - Katherine Howard The Berenstain Bears and the Slumber Party - Stan Berenstain The Night Before Christmas - Clement Moore Abandoned:
None
Favorite Book(s) of the Month: My Boyfriend Wrote a Book About Me - Hilary Winston
Steven Callahan had been addicted to survival activities since childhood, especially sailing.He set sail in 1982, alone, on his self-built schooner Napoleon Solo. Not long into the trip his boat was hit, possibly by a whale, and sunk. Callahan found himself striking out on his five-foot inflatable raft at the mercy of the winds with little food and water.
Adrift, for Seventy Six Days Lost At Sea, Callahan floated westward in his little cave-like home. Gathering fresh drinking water from his barely working solar stills and rainstorms, fishing when he could, and always searching the horizon for a boat or plane. Callahan floated over 1800 miles toward the Caribbean. Despite moments of fear, desperation and depression, 76 days later he drifted into the Caribbean followed by a school of fish who had followed his raft for many miles, likely for the barnacles growing on its bottom, but who caught the attention of some fishermen who went to investigate and found the missing sailor, haggard and worn, but alive. Since his ordeal, Callahan has continued to write about and speak publicly on survival, voyaging, and
seamanship, and has been frequently interviewed for television and other
media. Most recently, Callahan was tapped to assist Director Ang Lee with his film adaptation of the novel Life of Pi. I seem to enjoy survival memoirs, specifically about activities that I would never undertake myself, so I enjoyed this book quite a bit. Callahan talks quite honestly about his harrowing journey, life errors that led him to that situation, and its effects on his life afterward. He tells ofhis efforts to survive and his moments of desperation and doubt openly. Though it took him years to process the event and finally write about it, he knew immediately that he had been changed by his ordeal. This book is a testament to his will to live, as well as his skill as a survivalist and sailor. A great read for many. 3/5- Good. Read it, have a good time and move on. Or not.
The Change Garth Brooks, Artist Tester, Wayne & Arata, Tony, Writers One hand Reaches out And pulls a lost soul from harm While a thousand more go unspoken for They say what good have you done By saving just this one It's like whispering a prayer In the fury of a storm And I hear them saying you'll never change things And no matter what you do it's still the same thing But it's not the world that I am changing I do this so this world will know That it will not change me This heart Still believes The love and mercy still exist While all the hatred rage and so many say That love is all but pointless in madness such as this It's like trying to stop a fire With the moisture from a kiss And I hear them saying you'll never change things And no matter what you do it's still the same thing But it's not the world that I am changing I do this so this world will know That it will not change me As long as one heart still holds on Then hope is never really gone I hear them saying you'll never change things And no matter what you do it's still the same thing But it's not the world that I am changing I do this so this world we know Never changes me What I do is so This world will know That it will not change me I welcome comments and suggestions.
Life is funny sometimes. Sitting here as the storm rages outside, I find myself surviving Sandy. Twenty years ago, I wasn't sure I could... I fell in love in college, but as often happens it didn't last. I was heartbroken, but wanted him to be happy more than anything. He was as kind and understanding as he could be, given we lived two doors away from one another in the same dorm and he had started dating another girl who lived downstairs, Sandy. Valentine's Day that year was going to suck anyway, so I offered to cover the dorm door-watch shift. He had come in from his night out and was sweetly wishing me a happy day. He innocently leaned over to hug me...and SHE walked in. Immediately, she began screaming and ranting. Violent, trying to reach me. B-tch, c-nt, she would kill me if I didn't stay away from him. I was horrified, speechless. He had hugged me! He was being kind, nothing more. We were over and that was that. After several seconds of complete disbelief, he responded with appropriate embarrassment and managed to drag her away. I was shaken, terrified. I had done nothing wrong other than love a guy. She spent the remainder of my time in the dorm ensuring that their time spent together was obvious to me. She poked and prodded the wound, and enjoyed it. Cruelty as an art form. I graduated and moved away. Life goes on. He married her. About a year or so ago, twenty years later, I had my only "run-in" with her. I was working on a show and a shared friend was in the show. It got back to her, and she made snide, childish remarks on Twitter. I weep for their children... But not for me. I survived Sandy once before and with any luck, I'll do so again. Hope everyone is safe! S
The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender is a beautifully written, though dark, story about a not-so-normal family. Rose Edelstein is nineyears old when she sits down for a piece of her mother's chocolate lemon cake. What she tastes is not what she expected. Rose discovers that she has been cursed (gifted?) with the ability to "read" food, to know exactly where food came from and to taste the feelings of those who contributed to the making of that food. Her childhood is essentially over. As Rose matures with, and because of, her ability she is faced with some sad and surprising truths about her family.
With one taste of cake Rose discovers too young that her smiling, happy-go-lucky mother is in fact sad and unfulfilled, flitting desperately from activity to activity looking for
fulfillment she can not find from her husband, until she settles on a
long-term extramarital affair. Her father is distant and focused on his work, likely due his own childhood dealing with the possibility of his own gift/curse. Her older brother seems to have a special kind of gift/curse all of his own. Like its characters, this book left me unfulfilled and empty. After the initial discovery of Rose's gift, and the slow realization of her brother's special ability, you just sort of wait...and wait...and wait....for something to happen. What happens is the book's end.
What happened to climax and
denouement? Perhaps I am too traditional in my reading? Maybe the future of writing and the "story line" is changing? But, I was just left wondering, "That's it?!" From what I've seen from other readers, I was not the only one left out in the cold. Despite that, it really was a well written book and
quite beautiful. The
extra-ordinariness of this family, juxtaposed with their actual normalness, was
very well presented. 3/5- Good. Read it, have a good time and move on. Or not. Katie's Book Blog Everyday I Write The Book
You will find that my taste in music varies greatly! I find many country songs that have great lyrics (and folk, obviously), but that could get boring for non-country fans. So, I will try to mix things up somewhat... Stan (Eminem, ft Dido, Artist; Marshal Mathers, Writer)
[Chorus: Dido] My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why I.. got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window.. and I can't see at all And even if I could it'll all be gray, but your picture on my wall It reminds me, that it's not so bad, it's not so bad..
Dear Slim, I wrote but you still ain't callin I left my cell, my pager, and my home phone at the bottom I sent two letters back in autumn, you must not-a got 'em There probably was a problem at the post office or somethin Sometimes I scribble addresses too sloppy when I jot 'em but anyways; fuck it, what's been up? Man how's your daughter? My girlfriend's pregnant too, I'm bout to be a father If I have a daughter, guess what I'ma call her? I'ma name her Bonnie I read about your Uncle Ronnie too I'm sorry I had a friend kill himself over some bitch who didn't want him I know you probably hear this everyday, but I'm your biggest fan I even got the underground shit that you did with Skam I got a room full of your posters and your pictures man I like the shit you did with Rawkus too, that shit was fat Anyways, I hope you get this man, hit me back, just to chat, truly yours, your biggest fan This is Stan [Chorus: Dido] Dear Slim, you still ain't called or wrote, I hope you have a chance I ain't mad - I just think it's FUCKED UP you don't answer fans If you didn't wanna talk to me outside your concert you didn't have to, but you coulda signed an autograph for Matthew That's my little brother man, he's only six years old We waited in the blistering cold for you, four hours and you just said, "No." That's pretty shitty man - you're like his fuckin idol He wants to be just like you man, he likes you more than I do I ain't that mad though, I just don't like bein lied to Remember when we met in Denver - you said if I'd write you you would write back - see I'm just like you in a way I never knew my father neither; he used to always cheat on my mom and beat her I can relate to what you're saying in your songs so when I have a shitty day, I drift away and put 'em on cause I don't really got shit else so that shit helps when I'm depressed I even got a tattoo of your name across the chest Sometimes I even cut myself to see how much it bleeds It's like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me See everything you say is real, and I respect you cause you tell it My girlfriend's jealous cause I talk about you 24/7 But she don't know you like I know you Slim, no one does She don't know what it was like for people like us growin up You gotta call me man, I'll be the biggest fan you'll ever lose Sincerely yours, Stan -- P.S. We should be together too [Chorus: Dido]
Dear Mister-I'm-Too-Good-To-Call-Or-Write-My-Fans, this'll be the last package I ever send your ass It's been six months and still no word - I don't deserve it? I know you got my last two letters; I wrote the addresses on 'em perfect So this is my cassette I'm sending you, I hope you hear it I'm in the car right now, I'm doing 90 on the freeway Hey Slim, I drank a fifth of vodka, you dare me to drive? You know the song by Phil Collins, "In the Air of the Night" about that guy who coulda saved that other guy from drowning but didn't, then Phil saw it all, then at a a show he found him? That's kinda how this is, you coulda rescued me from drowning Now it's too late - I'm on a 1000 downers now, I'm drowsy and all I wanted was a lousy letter or a call I hope you know I ripped +ALL+ of your pictures off the wall I love you Slim, we coulda been together, think about it You ruined it now, I hope you can't sleep and you dream about it And when you dream I hope you can't sleep and you SCREAM about it I hope your conscience EATS AT YOU and you can't BREATHE without me See Slim; [*screaming*] Shut up bitch! I'm tryin to talk! Hey Slim, that's my girlfriend screamin in the trunk but I didn't slit her throat, I just tied her up, see I ain't like you cause if she suffocates she'll suffer more, and then she'll die too Well, gotta go, I'm almost at the bridge now Oh shit, I forgot, how'm I supposed to send this shit out? [car tires squeal][CRASH] .. [brief silence] .. [LOUD splash] [Chorus: Dido] [Eminem] Dear Stan, I meant to write you sooner but I just been busy You said your girlfriend's pregnant now, how far along is she? Look, I'm really flattered you would call your daughter that and here's an autograph for your brother, I wrote it on the Starter cap I'm sorry I didn't see you at the show, I musta missed you Don't think I did that shit intentionally just to diss you But what's this shit you said about you like to cut your wrists too? I say that shit just clownin dogg, c'mon - how fucked up is you? You got some issues Stan, I think you need some counseling to help your ass from bouncing off the walls when you get down some And what's this shit about us meant to be together? That type of shit'll make me not want us to meet each other I really think you and your girlfriend need each other or maybe you just need to treat her better I hope you get to read this letter, I just hope it reaches you in time before you hurt yourself, I think that you'll be doin just fine if you relax a little, I'm glad I inspire you but Stan why are you so mad? Try to understand, that I do want you as a fan I just don't want you to do some crazy shit I seen this one shit on the news a couple weeks ago that made me sick Some dude was drunk and drove his car over a bridge and had his girlfriend in the trunk, and she was pregnant with his kid and in the car they found a tape, but they didn't say who it was to Come to think about, his name was.. it was you Damn! I welcome your comments and suggestions.
Just your average reader, blogger, singer, theater geek, web designer, crafts junkie - living in the Boston area with a wonderful husband and two precious new kitties (and of course my cherished memories of a Diva Kitty).
