esprit de l'escalier

Waiting for good news

(Ominous title, no? It's not like that, I swear.)

I have recently returned to my old bookworm ways. Grad school severely hindered my reading for pleasure habits. When I was living in Chicago and commuting by rail, I was in a reader's heaven. I had a solid two hours of daily reading to myself, if I could tune out the huddle masses in the train car. (Which, of course, any seasoned commuter via public transport can do.)

Reading for school and commuting by car almost destroyed my pleasure reading. About once a quarter, but probably less, I would gorge myself on a novel, putting off my homework and reading into the night. I would never quite regret it, although those binges always set me back. Since regaining my autonomy, I have been a little slow to return to my reading. Lately, though, I have rediscovered my voracious reading appetite, as evidenced by the rotating stack of books next to my bed.

I am currently house/cat sitting for friends of my parents and I took a lazy Sunday on their couch and read Kate Atkinson's latest, When Will There Be Good News? (Whose title I'm riffing on for this post.) It reunites her readers with her reluctant private detective, Jackson Brodie. He first turned up in Case Histories, the first Atkinson I read. This is his third book, and like the others, it is in no way a standard private eye story. People are lost and sought, but it feels less boxed in by the standard genre. Her Brodie books feel less like mysteries (though they are), and more like excellent stories that involve a mystery of some sort. They feel more like life than an Agatha Christie or a Raymond Chandler.

Her characters are all survivors of something tragic, an accident or a horrific murder. These stories are about moving forward through even more loss. Bad, nasty, sometimes random things happen to good people, but Atkinson tells us about the strength people find to move forward (or not). She does it all the while showing us the humor and absurdity in everyday life. Her books, especially the Jackson Brodie ones, are hard to put down. They always include several parallel stories lines end that up colliding in a satisfying way.

I really love Atkinson as a writer. Her voice is distinctively feminine and British. I've also read her first book, Behind the Scenes at the Museum, and Human Croquet, both of which employ a magical realist touch. I would suggest all of them.

Weekend polaroids

That smile

Mural in the Short North via my polaroid spectra.

Hiding in the Spotlight

I wake up to NPR in the mornings. On the weekends, if I hear something interesting, I'll let it play instead of hitting snooze and slowly wake up, listening to a story unfold. Saturday I did this with an interview with Diane Rehm. (My favorite part was her story about how Julia Child responded to her question about how Child keeps up her energy. Child quipped she ate well, "red meat and gin.")

I left the radio playing and bolted awake with the next story, Hiding In Spotlight. Not only was the story a good one, but the interview was with my good friend Aimee's Dad and Grandmother, Greg and Zhanna Dawson.

Aimee's Grandmother and her great aunt escaped Nazi death marches in the Ukraine in 1941. Both were gifted musicians; Zhanna was a piano prodigy. They changed their names and were presumed dead. (In fact their names are included on walls of the dead in Israel and Ukraine.) They survived much of the war by playing music, and often for German soldiers. Scott Simon, who was interviewing them, asked her if playing for the Nazis scared her. Her response was interesting. She said she was more afraid of people she knew recognizing her than she was the soldiers.

Eventually they were able to get to America. Zhanna went to Julliard and ended up teaching at Indiana University. (Which is where I met Aimee.)

Aimee's Dad, Greg, is a columnist with the Orlando Sentinel. He recently published a book about Zhanna's escape and life during the war. The NPR piece has reminded me that I have the time now to read it and should do so. Listen to the interview (and read an excerpt) here. More information about the book here. Buy it here.

Recent polaroids

Urban farming

(Editor's note: I'm trying to get myself back into the swing of blogging, but I'm feeling very rusty. Instead of constantly blogging in my head, I've been having a hard time starting anything. So, while I think I'll continue to share some photos from my trips to Seattle and Philly, and hopefully get some stories in there too, here's something to tide us all over.)

The Greater Ohio blog pointed me to this article about a model of urban farming that is actually profitable. Short digression: When I started my master's degree two years ago, one of the first subjects to whip me into an excited frenzy was urban farming. Our current food system - with food being carted so far and farmland being paved for subdivisions that would end up costing municipalities more than their taxes and our complete disconnection from what we eat and where it comes from - concerns me. (Who knew the idea of people eating fresh veggies could be so exciting?) To me there is such a strong connection between how and what we eat, land use, and public health, and I see urban farming as helping untangle that knot.

The article over at Governing discusses Roxanne Christensen and her mission to try and make a half-acre plot in Philadelphia profitable through urban farming (by at least $50,000). By the fourth year, her gross profits were $68,000. They quote Christensen saying, "The only way for urban agriculture to establish itself on any scale is to be a viable business proposition," which I think is true. And I think her venture is really exciting. (Greater Ohio also points to Christensen's organization, Small Plot Intensive Farming or SPIN-farming. I find it all rather fascinating. Check it out.)

Other related links: Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer is currently waiting for me at the library. I heard about it on NPR back in July, and my turn on the reserve list has finally come. Time timing is perfect.

Also, Greater Ohio was connecting urban farming with shrinking cities. Metroblossom, one of my favorite flickrites, spent the summer in Detroit, the poster child for shrinking cities. It's fascinating to see its decay through his sociologist lens. Check out his set here.

Some Seattle photos

I have some stories and lots of photos to share from my recent trips, but I haven't been sleeping well and can't find the proper words. Here are some from my Seattle/Gig Harbor trip. More photos here.