Is it Father's Day Already?

My father is no longer in my life to wish a Happy Father's day.  He died at the age of 90 after living a very fulfilling life. I thought I knew him well, but learned his friends knew another side of him and when they shared with me their experiences, I learned some completely new facets of his life. I'm still learning from my Dad, today, especially this week when I have been writing about him.

I have some other wonderful fathers whom I would like to honor:

Dear Son-in-Law:

I am so happy you are in my daughter's life and are the father of those wonderful kids. You work so hard to provide a good secure life, give them guidance and love and most of all, you do things together that are fun! I know you give your kids enough of yourself that they have a good self esteem. That's so important that they all know how much their Dad loves them and shows it!

Dear #1 Grandson
You have had your share of challenges and still managed to get through them and continue to achieve, but always you have been a good father to the boys. You have taught them good values, given them a strong foundation and openly shared your faith and love. I can hardly wait for them to grow up and see the wonderful young men they will be. I am so proud to see the Dad you have become!

Dear #2 Grandson
You are quite an extraordinary father balancing your very tough work life with your family life and managing to be 100 percent there for both as well as taking care of your other grandmother. It has been amazing to see how you have grown with your delightful little ones and all the effort you make to keep them all happy and well cared for. I just love that they have you in their lives to call "Daddy"!

Dear #1 Brother,

James D Deane

It's surprising how quickly the years have passed by, and here we are, both of us, great grandparents. You, the Great Grand Dad and patriarch of your side of the family. It's hard for me to keep track of all your progeny! I know you have been so instrumental in their upbringing, and well being. I admire how you spread the love throughout 3 generations and still manage to live a good life, especially with all the medical details you have to attend to.


Dear #2 Brother,
It seems so incredible to me that not only are you a father, but also a Grandfather. It seems like it was just yesterday you were my "baby" brother. Does your grandson call you Grandpa? I can't fathom it! Not only do I know how you put your heart into being a Dad, I know your love and talent passes down to your grandson, too.

Dear #2 Nephew,
You grew up so fast and so far away, I hardly know you. Suddenly you were back home and a young man with a son of your own. I was flabbergasted how quickly you grew into fatherhood. And here you are with an almost grown son, who I see is the image of his Dad. I know you work hard, but I suspect you have also taught him how to enjoy playing hard too!

Dear Brother-in-Law, "Ampa",
I can't imagine how hard it might have been for you to step into the role of Grandfather to such a large brood of grandchildren. You have admirably taken on the role like a duck to water. It is obvious all the kids love you dearly. You are such a good influence and stabilizing force in their life, and a man they all can look up to.  I'm so glad you are there for my nieces and nephews.

To the memory of my dear Nephew,
I still love you, will still miss you forever. Your beautiful daughter looks so much like you, it is almost like you are here with her. I delight in seeing the lovely young lady she is growing into. She hasn't forgotten you and everyone in the family watches over her and keeps your memory alive for her. We didn't see what kind of Daddy you would be, but I know for sure, you would have been the best, as you were such a true, open feelings, young man.

Dear Chi Man
I am delighted that you came into T's life and give her the love and support she deserves. I am so grateful that you are a good Dad to the two who needed you so much. What a incredibly strong influence you have had on their lives. And I'm so happy that you've got the youngest to raise up as the special little one she is.

Dear One,
I admire the kind of father I have seen in you and the ongoing relationship you now have with your grown up son. I'm so glad to see you have given him the freedom to spread his wings, supported all his creativity and been both mother and father all those years. You remind me a lot of my own father.

To the missing father,
Oh, how I wish you could see the incredible shining soul your son has become. I would like to think you would be so proud of him and the multi-faceted young man he is. I am glad that he had his Papa in his life for his early years. You were such a loving, doting father. I wish you healing and peace.


To Moses, William, Rick, Mike, Dacia, Jason (RIP),
I never got to know you as fathers. For the one's whose children are my grand nieces and nephews, I hope you all know what an influence you have had on your children. They are all such beautiful souls. You can be so proud of them. They all love you and that speaks a lot.


To all,
I have often thought that wishing someone "Happy father's day" was so inadequate to the message meant to be said behind it. The unspoken is so hard to express in a culture where acknowledging and accepting deep feelings and respect is somewhat taboo. We don't know how to say, "I honor you, my father, this day." I wonder if it will ever catch on.

9 Epiphanies You May Never Have Thought About.

#1. You are not your mind.

The first time I heard somebody say that, I didn’t like the sound of it one bit. What else could I be? I had taken for granted that the mental chatter in my head was the central “me” that all the experiences in my life were happening to.

I see quite clearly now that life is nothing but passing experiences, and my thoughts are just one more category of things I experience. Thoughts are no more fundamental than smells, sights and sounds. Like any experience, they arise in my awareness, they have a certain texture, and then they give way to something else.

If you can observe your thoughts just like you can observe other objects, who’s doing the observing? Don’t answer too quickly. This question, and its unspeakable answer, are at the center of all the great religions and spiritual traditions.

#2. Life unfolds only in moments.

Of course! I once called this the most important thing I ever learned. Nobody has ever experienced anything that wasn’t part of a single moment unfolding. That means life’s only challenge is dealing with the single moment you are having right now. Before I recognized this, I was constantly trying to solve my entire life — battling problems that weren’t actually happening. Anyone can summon the resolve to deal with a single, present moment, as long as they are truly aware that it’s their only point of contact with life, and therefore there is nothing else one can do that can possibly be useful. Nobody can deal with the past or future, because, both only exist as thoughts, in the present. But we can kill ourselves trying.

#3. Quality of life is determined by how you deal with your moments, not which moments happen and which don’t.

I now consider this truth to be Happiness 101, but it’s amazing how tempting it still is to grasp at control of every circumstance to try to make sure I get exactly what I want. To encounter an undesirable situation and work with it willingly is the mark of a wise and happy person. Imagine getting a flat tire, falling ill at a bad time, or knocking something over and breaking it – and suffering nothing from it. There is nothing to fear if you agree with yourself to deal willingly with adversity whenever it does show up. That is how to make life better. The typical, low-leverage method is to hope that you eventually accumulate power over your circumstances so that you can get what you want more often. There’s an excellent line in a Modest Mouse song, celebrating this side-effect of wisdom: As life gets longer, awful feels softer.

#4. Most of life is imaginary.

Human beings have a habit of compulsive thinking that is so pervasive that we lose sight of the fact that we are nearly always thinking. Most of what we interact with is not the world itself, but our beliefs about it, our expectations of it, and our personal interests in it. We have a very difficult time observing something without confusing it with the thoughts we have about it, and so the bulk of what we experience in life is imaginary things. As Mark Twain said: “I’ve been through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.” The best treatment I’ve found? Cultivating mindfulness.

#5. Human beings have evolved to suffer, and we are better at suffering than anything else.

Yikes. It doesn’t sound like a very liberating discovery. I used to believe that if I was suffering it meant that there was something wrong with me — that I was doing life “wrong.” Suffering is completely human and completely normal, and there is a very good reason for its existence. Life’s persistent background hum of “this isn’t quite okay, I need to improve this,” coupled with occasional intense flashes of horror and adrenaline are what kept human beings alive for millions of years. This urge to change or escape the present moment drives nearly all of our behavior. It’s a simple and ruthless survival mechanism which works exceedingly well for keeping us alive, but it has a horrific side effect: human beings suffer greatly by their very nature. This, for me, redefined every one of life’s problems as some tendril of the human condition. As grim as it sounds, this insight is liberating because it means: 1) that suffering does not necessarily mean my life is going wrong, 2) that the ball is always in my court, so the degree to which I suffer is ultimately up to me, and 3) that all problems have the same cause and the same solution.

#6. Emotions exist to make us biased.

This discovery was a complete 180 from my old understanding of emotions. I used to think my emotions were reliable indicators of the state of my life — of whether I’m on the right track or not. Your passing emotional states can’t be trusted for measuring your self-worth or your position in life, but they are great at teaching you what it is you can’t let go of. The trouble is that emotions make us both more biased and more forceful at the same time. Another survival mechanism with nasty side-effects.

#7.  All people operate from the same two motivations: to fulfill their desires and to escape their suffering.

Learning this allowed me to finally make sense of how people can hurt each other so badly. The best explanation I had before this was that some people are just bad. What a cop-out. No matter what kind of behavior other people exhibit, they are acting in the most effective way they are capable of (at that moment) to fulfill a desire or to relieve their suffering. These are motives we can all understand; we only vary in method, and the methods each of us has at our disposal depend on our upbringing and our experiences in life, as well as our state of consciousness. Some methods are skillful and helpful to others, others are unskillful and destructive, and almost all destructive behavior is unconscious. So there is no good and evil, only smart and dumb (or wise and foolish). Understanding this completely shook my long-held notions of morality and justice.

#8. Beliefs are nothing to be proud of.

Believing something is not an accomplishment. I grew up thinking that beliefs are something to be proud of, but they’re really nothing but opinions one refuses to reconsider. Beliefs are easy. The stronger your beliefs are, the less open you are to growth and wisdom, because “strength of belief” is only the intensity with which you resist questioning yourself. As soon as you are proud of a belief, as soon as you think it adds something to who you are, then you’ve made it a part of your ego. Listen to any “die-hard” conservative or liberal talk about their deepest beliefs and you are listening to somebody who will never hear what you say on any matter that matters to them — unless you believe the same. It is gratifying to speak forcefully, it is gratifying to be agreed with, and this high is what the die-hards are chasing. Wherever there is a belief, there is a closed door. Take on the beliefs that stand up to your most honest, humble scrutiny, and never be afraid to lose them.

#9. Objectivity is subjective.

Life is a subjective experience and that cannot be escaped. Every experience I have comes through my own, personal, unsharable viewpoint. There can be no peer reviews of my direct experience, no real corroboration. This has some major implications for how I live my life. The most immediate one is that I realize I must trust my own personal experience, because nobody else has this angle, and I only have this angle. Another is that I feel more wonder for the world around me, knowing that any “objective” understanding I claim to have of the world is built entirely from scratch, by me. What I do build depends on the books I’ve read, the people I’ve met, and the experiences I’ve had. It means I will never see the world quite like anyone else, which means I will never live in quite the same world as anyone else — and therefore I mustn’t let outside observers be the authority on who I am or what life is really like for me. Subjectivity is primary experience — it is real life, and objectivity is something each of us builds on top of it in our minds, privately, in order to explain it all. This truth has world-shattering implications for the roles of religion and science in the lives of those who grasp it.

Death Changes Everything

I look back upon other deaths in my life and see them differently. My father didn't want any fuss to be made, no viewing, no ceremony. He just wanted to be cremated, and be done with it.

Gennie and James Deane age 85 and 90

Both my parents had expressed this as their choice for years. Yet, when Dad died, it was immediately obvious that, though we would respect the wish for cremation, we would still go through the nice dressed up appearance, the new tie to go with Dad's favorite suit, the make up for his face to look healthy and happy.

Though, I thought that smile was probably broader than any my father had ever made, it was still better in appearance than what it might have been. There was no fancy, expensive coffin, but a temporary one. I don't recall what it was called, they had a special name for it. Sturdy, yet disposable, something that would burn with him, for little expense. Perhaps some sort of cardboard?

We went against Dad's wishes for the sake of our Mom's comfort. Her grief was so intense, we did this to help give her some closure, to help her face the fact that his physical presence would not continue to be with her, to help her make that transition into widowhood as best as possible. It gave her the chance to be dressed up for him, for her to say goodbye. After all, he died when she was asleep. When we woke her, she tried to revive him. Perhaps she thought she might have prevented his death if she had not been sleeping. We like to think that going through with a ceremony, a priest, a church as she was brought up with, as was familiar to her, would help to bring some sort of comfort to her.

Letter to a Dead Mother (2)

Dear Mom,

It was nice to smell the aroma of my childhood today as I sipped my cup of coffee. Yes, it's true! I didn't have my tea. I made me a "cuppa" in remembrance of you. Wish you could sit here with me to enjoy it.

I wonder if there is anything to the notion of treating ancestors to earthly gifts. Would it be nice for you if you could get a whiff? A taste? Kats has a shelf where pictures of his parents are displayed. Every morning he puts a cup of coffee and a bowl of rice in front of them, out of respect and remembrance.

I remember when Dad was close to death and he couldn't eat, he said he didn't miss food. But, coffee... oh if he could just have a taste! So, we dipped a cloth in a cup of coffee and touched it to his tongue. Would you have liked that?

No, I think not. In your last days you were a chai drinker. Weren't you? Tomorrow I will make a cup of chai and drink it joyfully in honor of you. Yes, honor you. I didn't do enough of that when you were around, except maybe on Mother's Day, Birthday, Christmas. The rest of the year, you knocked yourself out working for a living and being our mom. How did you do it back in the 1950's when being a working mom was not very acceptable? I certainly didn't appreciate it. I felt resentful that I had to babysit and do things around the house while other kids were out playing. And it didn't help that others made it clear to me how "deprived of a childhood" I was. Especially other adults!

I remember some neighbor saying, "Oh? Your mother works? She should be home taking care of you kids! Tsk, Tsk."  Soon I decided to not mention your being employed. I let my resentment simmer. Today, of course, a woman who is co-owner of a business, present on the job, AND a mother is valued. Today you could have held your head high for your achievements and not be embarrassed. And perhaps I would have been proud of my mom and the responsibilities she entrusted me with.

I remember that last decade of your life, Mom. You fussed and worried and apologized repeatedly. "I should never have left you kids on your own. I should have been there for you. Maybe things would have been better if I never worked."

James and Genevieve Deane, Easter 1950s
8295 Laughlin Dr. Niagara Falls New York 

I don't know how many times we all tried to reassure you that things really were better for us that way. We all became quite self-sufficient and independent. I didn't envy other kids much for having their mothers at home nagging on them all the time, making them mind their manners, making them stay indoors when the whole outdoors was our playground. We had freedom, Mom! Other kids didn't have that. I secretly felt quite smug about that.

I could go across the street to the park and swing on the swings when other kids had to come in and do their homework. I could watch cartoons all Saturday morning if I liked. I learned how to shop for food on my own. All of us kids had freedom to wander and wonder at what other kids were forbidden. We played in the woods nearby. We dug in the dirt without worrying about getting dirty. We had life as a gift to discover without constraint. Some people thought we were a bit wild. And yes, some parents wouldn't let their kids play with us. So what? We didn't like those prissy kids all that much anyways.

Mom, I hope there is a way now, you can see that it all worked out for the best. Can you see we are all getting through life with solid confidence that we can make it, regardless of the challenges? We learned to make mistakes. Unlike other kids, we knew how to fall down and pick ourselves up.  If we scraped our knees, we knew to go home, clean up, put a band aid on, and get back out in the world ourselves. You kissed our boo boos later, if we thought to tell you. Me? I usually didn't. I was too busy complaining about having to do the dishes or whining about having to clean my room. But, only when you really got after me to get those things done.

Of course, there were a few motherly cuddles we missed. But, you were there for us when we grew up and you didn't have to work, couldn't work, anymore. I could call you anytime and tell you all my problems. You didn't try to tell me what to do. You listened. You held your tongue. I know it was hard for you. I know now you could see I was making the same mistakes you had. I wonder if it would have been different if your mother hadn't died when I was a baby. Maybe she would have told you. Then, maybe you could have guided me in the same way. You had no experience raising kids, or relating to your adult kids. Yet, I blamed you for not being a better mom. Yet there I was as a troubled adult, reaching out to you. It's so odd, now that I think about it. Sometimes I thought you were my worst enemy. But, I look back and see you weren't.

I didn't realize it at the time, but your listening to me on the phone was better than gold to me. You know better than anyone the twisted turmoil I inflicted upon myself the secrets of my heart, the troubles of my soul. You put up with a lot of my taking it out on you, my blaming you for my troubles.

I remember you saying, "Yes, yes, it's always the mother's fault her kids are unhappy. Just ask any shrink!" I didn't know how much that hurt you, that we couldn't be close. You bent over backwards to help me, to be there for me. But, you didn't know what I needed. Not really. How could you have known? I certainly didn't. You didn't have a parenting manual. You didn't have a psychology degree to help you with your unstable daughter. How it must have tormented you when I couldn't get effective treatment, when I got so despondent I didn't want to live. I can barely stand it when my own daughter faces her grief. What pains her, pains me. I don't know how you did it, Mom.

I know sometimes you got upset, you worried about me doing the wrong thing, worried I was suffering because of the way I lived my life. Some mothers turn their backs on their adult children when they don't like how they live. Some mothers let go of the apron strings right when the kids leave the nest. They disconnect from their kids, then wonder why they are so distant. They live out their "golden years" disenchanted.

Grown up or not, I was still your child. I remember you saying that more than once. I think the last time you said that to me was when you were eighty-six, and I was sixty-one. "No matter how old you are, you will always be my child".

Whether it is real or not, whether you know what I'm feeling or not, it doesn't matter. I'm so glad I finally found this way to feel connected to you again. It's been a lonely five years without you.

You know what Mom? No matter where you are now, you'll always be my mother.

Acknowledging Pain

Pain is my friend. 

Once I realized that pain was my "body adviser, or mentor", I paid attention to it instead of trying to ignore it. 

I taught myself how to treat it, how to prevent it, how to work with it, and accept that it comes and goes. 

And my life choices can still be enjoyed. 

Yes, I go with the pain. 

For me, I understand that the strength I gain from living life fully, even with pain, is only part of what it's all about. 

Pain is like the weather.... It's changeable.

Today I had a medical procedure to help relieve some pain I've been dealing with for a long time. 

It didn't go well and I ended up in more pain. 

But, I know it will change in a few days as the steroids take effect,.

Then I can return to my methods of physical therapy to strengthen and enhance what my body can do.

(Note: in case you think I don't know what pain is, this is the result of bone cancer, chondrosarcoma from 45 years ago. The pain my body carries never ceases. It is always there in varying degrees. Always.)

Solar Panels Opinion

I don't think Big Business and the Electric Company folks are going to support this brilliant plan. When solar energy can be created so that the average person can hang a "curtain" in their window of something as simple as that, I doubt there's much chance it's going to go big. I want to tell the inventors of such things to tell me how to do it myself... use old mayonnaise jars or aluminum cans or whatever so I can turn on the washing machine or heat bath water and erase that carbon footprint. Sorry to sound negative, but I find my own personal opportunities to be lacking. That's my reality. Solar energy? Not happening. #justsaying

The Doctor's Cemetery

Today, I drove into parking lot at my doctor's office which overlooks the cemetery. 

I've always thought it odd his office should be located there where patients can have the visual reminder of their mortality. 

I felt just a tinge of irony until I saw several people walking the paths wearing Ipods or just talking with one another, a guy on a bike, a woman with a dog on a leash. 

The juxtaposition of the very much living with those very far gone away threw me back in time... sitting in the car with friends driving through to the end where the pond was, throwing stones and munching on treats. 

Still, even the boys wanted to make sure we got back to the car and out of there before the sun went down. No one made jokes or poked fun at one another for feeling squeamish, it was just an unspoken understanding that it was time to leave.

Dish Drainer Dreams

My metal.. plastic coated dish drainer has gotten so rusty through the cracked plastic that I've been looking for another at the Goodwill. People just don't seem to donate good dish drainers these days!

Finally! I saw the perfect replacement, just like the dish drainer I have, only not cracked and rusty. Looked like it had never seen a dish and was longing to caress one, or many... whatever it's dreams.

It was sitting in a shopping cart in the corner with other stuff where the workers often leave things they are supposed to be putting on shelves, but walked off and left to take a break... or whatever their dreams may be. Ecstatic, I helped myself to the long sought after treasure!

I happily shopped some more, finding a needed few dishes I'd been wanting, in fact. They bonded with the dish rack right away. Perfect synchronicity!

Imagine my horror (and theirs) when a woman, another thrift shopper, walked up to me and informed me that was her dish drainer!!! Oh... I was tempted to tell her it was too late to separate such a well matched kitchen family. But, no... I had to be Ms. Nice Guy and let her have it.

Now another year or two will go by before I ever see the likes of that one again.

Sigh... such is life!

Just a Bit of Diary Note

I had a back procedure (spinal epidural) last Monday which I thought I could recover from by Tuesday, but it went a little bit more challenging than I expected.

This Tuesday, I have no choice but to go to Stanford to see my shrink, who is helping with new medication issues. But, at least I'm not so depressed as I was in December. Hopefully, I wont have to return to the shrink next month.

I hate missing the one thing that brings me pleasure and makes me feel like a human being and that's my writing group/class.

Well, there is another thing that brings me pleasure and that is my cats. Posting here a picture of my calico cat, Buffy, and me. I fell asleep with my glasses on!

In regard to Indiana's current cold snap

Photo by Vic Mastrogiovanni

I must admit, it's getting old
This indoor life that's caused by cold.

The dogs are crazed, my husband bored,
I'm on my knees to beg the Lord:
"Please, oh please let them go outside."
My nerves are jangled, I want to hide.

It's peace I need, I need me some!
What shall I do...where'd I hide the rum?
What is the matter, what can it be?
What's stressing my delicate sanity?

The walls are slowly coming in,
The ceiling's nearly at my chin.
The floor is closer it seems to me
The room grows smaller or it seems to be.

My husband shares a valid thought
And in the phone book finds what's sought.
A quick phone call, oh hurry please
And soon the flashing lights we see.

Two men in sparkling coats so white
Haul me into the frigid night.
They are so kind, give me a shot
And peace descends, WOW, quite a lot.

At last I'm calm and now can breathe.
They cloak me in a shirt with sleeves
That cross in back. Not stylish: sad.
At least the fit isn't quite so bad.

My husband happily calls out to me,
"Honey, the Farm is where you'll be.
I know you'll beat this Winter thing,
I'll come and get you, come this Spring."

~~~~
From the talented Indiana Guest Writer, SA Springer

(inspired by Donna and a little Dr. Seuss).

Weather Changes

Over the years I have lived many places in the United States. I grew up in Western New York... Niagara Falls, to be exact. Nasty snowstorms and thick summer humidity was the norm.

Photo by Jon Ball - Boise, Idaho

Walking to school in the snow was a delight as well as a struggle. When it was delightful, I would be late for school because I had been catching snowflakes on my mittens to examine before they melted. I would lie down in some strangers front yard to make snow angels. I would get caught in playing with other kids throwing snowballs at each other.

When the snow was not fun I would be late for school, too. Trudging through sidewalks that have not been shoveled, not daring to step into the street because a car just might hit you was a deterrent. If the wind was blowing the snow in my face, I kept my head down watching each step of my boots gloved hands in my pockets. Apparently the other kids got rides to school on those days.

At least by high school I could take the bus.

Then as a young military wife, I lived in Los Angeles, lots mini earthquakes, but nothing I worried about. Then Delaware; what a swampland! At least that was the impression I got of the place. Then, back to New York state. I live at the shores of Chautauqua Lake. Beautiful country, but lots of sub-zero winter weather. Since I lived in the country, there were no sidewalks to shovel, only the driveway. If the snow plows didn't come down my dead end road, I could drive nowhere. Snuggling down in the house, I watched the beauty of the lake through the windows.

Then, I moved back to Southern California, so hot all summer, spring, fall, winter, (you name it) and the smog. EW!

Leaving that behind I ended up in Santa Cruz, California on the Monterey Bay. I loved it there for many years but husband lost his job and we decided to be adventurous, to go where no one had gone before.. at least not us. We traveled the Southwest first, then headed to Indiana for a new job. It turned out to be a decade of what I call "My Hoosier Hell Years". Honestly, I saw more damage due to tornadoes than I ever saw from California earthquakes. (Note: I became an amateur storm chaser!) Was pretty sick there all the time with asthma because of allergies and mold. The summer humidity was harder to take than any I'd faced before. I had never had so much trouble breathing even in the Southern California smog.

Central California winter hillside in drought,
Compare to photo below

Finally, I came back to Northern California. In all my total years here, until these last few, I've never seen such drought and subsequent wild fires! The drought makes the hillsides ugly. By this time of year, after our winter rains everything is usually green and luscious. But, sadly, not this year. It's all dry tinder!

We just had a big fire recently in the wilderness of Big Sur. Thirty four homes were burned to the ground. Last summer, among other fires throughout the state, 402 square miles was burnt near Yosemite National Forest. It took a full month before the fire was contained. I don't know how many homes or livestock or people were lost. It's worrisome. A fire on the outskirts of my own town a few years back was quite threatening, too.

Just the same, I figure that no matter where someone lives there is weather phenomena that are going to be problems. Hurricanes, Tornadoes, Desert heat, Snowstorms, sub-zero temps, flooding, etc etc. But, this is home now. Earthquakes, drought, fires, mudslides. This is where I want to live out the rest of my years.

Misty view from outskirts of Watsonville, California after a bit of rain.
Strawberry field on left. Orchard on right. Mount Madonna straight ahead. 

36 Books I've read in 2013

Bibi n Eric Sandstrom-Kollenberg
near Santa Cruz Veterans Hall

In no particular order, these are some of the books I've read (and finished) reading this year. If I didn't finish reading a book, I didn't like it. Therefore, these are books I liked.

Twelve Years a Slave
     By Solomon Northup

Southern Fried Sushi
     By Jennifer Rogers Spinola

Here Shall I Die Ashore: Stephen Hopkins (Bermuda Castaway, Jamestown Survivor, and Mayflower Pilgrim.)
     By Caleb Johnson

Tune In Tokyo: The Gaijin Diaries
     By Tim Anderson

The Confessions of a Catnip Junkie
     By Allan Goldstein

Ten Days in a Mad-House
     By Nellie Bly

Stone of Tears (The Sword of Truth #2)
     By Terry Goodkind

Love & Darts (On Impulse)
     By Nath Jones

2000 Deciduous Trees (On Impulse)
     By Nath Jones

Dance Like There's No-one Watching : Attract Happiness the Natural Way
     By Susanne Spencer

Scout's Honor (A Tale From The Deadlands)
     By Jeremy Lee Riley

Daisy - the Autobiography of a Cat
     By Miranda Eliot Swan

The Eden Prescription: The war on cancer is not what you think...
     Evers, Ethan

Breakthrough!: How the 10 Greatest Discoveries in Medicine Saved Millions and Changed Our View of the World
     Jon Queijo

Writing Life Stories: How To Make Memories Into Memoirs, Ideas Into Essays And Life Into Literature
     By Bill Roorbach

Living to Tell the Tale: A Guide to Writing Memoir
     Jane Taylor McDonnell, Vivian Gornick

Wild (From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail)
     By Cheryl Strayed

Vet Tech Tales: The Early Years (Confessions of an Animal Junkie)
Phoenix Sullivan

The Funniest Cop Stories Ever
Scott Baker and Tom Philbin

The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer
Mukherjee, Siddhartha

2:46: Aftershocks: Stories from the Japan Earthquake
William Gibson, Yoko Ono, Barry Eisler, Jake Adelstein,

The Fathers of New England: A Chronicle of the Puritan Commonwealths
Andrews, Charles McLean

New Discoveries at Jamestown: Site of the First Successful English Settlement in America
Cotter, John L., Hudson, J. Paul

The Big 5-OH!
Bricker, Sandra D.

Palm Trees on the Hudson
Tiber, Elliot

Hilda - Snow White Revisited (Hilda the Wicked Witch)
Kater, Paul

The Human Side of Cancer: Living with Hope, Coping with Uncertainty
Jimmie Holland, Sheldon Lewis

The Bookseller of Kabul
Asne Seierstad, Ingrid Christophersen

Proof of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon's Journey into the Afterlife
Eben Alexander III M.D.

The Son of Man
The Son of Man 2, Elders of Zion
The Son of Man 3, The Heylik
By Johnson, Charles W.

Hunger Games
Catching Fire
MockingJay
By Suzanne Collins