Nothing much is happening here and I like that. I drove us back from the dog groomer this morning, and almost had a nervous fit. I think my commuter’s nerves of steel have atrophied. I really don’t like driving, unless it is the trip to my daughter’s home in the rural part of Virginia. We will make that trip in a few weeks when the girls are home on spring break. Two of them work for universities and one is in school at UVA.
Rita my third oldest granddaughter (age 20), lives with daughter Connie and SIL Bill and works for a local veterinarian. Weekends, she works at a tea shop in the nearest town. Her boss left her in charge of the tea shop the other weekend. She is also taking American history courses at a nearby college. She may or may not be at home the weekend we visit.
These days, I do little but read and walk my dog Johnny. David is using a cane, so he walks with Clare (five pounds weight). We walk the dogs separately as they are mismatched, Johnny twice her weight and far too aggressive when he walks beside her. Besides, Johnny and I like to whip around the 4 blocks alone. The photo above shows David with his daughter Julie and Clare at Christmas. Julie had just scolded her Dad for kissing Clare, and he was laughing at her. (He kisses Clare more than he kisses me.)
Via a book review by Cynthia Ozick (Quarrel and Quandary: Essays) I recently discovered W. G. Sebald, and purchased The Emigrants. After reading his first essay, I plan to read more of his works. I am probably discovering him after everyone else, but don’t forget, I have been reading nothing but history for the past seven to eight years.
Because I constantly have tears rolling down my face, David tells me I should stop reading books about WWII and the Holocaust, but I remind him that he reads books about the Russian Revolution and its aftermath, and that was just as bad, if not worse. His latest book is Former People: The Final Days of the Russian Aristocracy by Douglas Smith, about the White Russians who either fled as refugees or were eradicated by the Bolsheviks (ethnic cleansing of a whole class of white people and largely ignored in this day of political correctness).
English: This image is a screenshot from a public domain trailer for the 1956 film, The Searchers. Trailers for movies released before 1964 are in the Public Domain because they were never separately copyrighted. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
My new copy of The Searchers: The Making of an American Legend by former Washington Post reporter Glenn Frankel arrived this morning. And yes, it’s about John Ford’s classic western starring John Wayne (top 10 best films, according to the AFI). I saw it on the big screen when I was a teenager.
English: Chief Quanah Parker of the Kwahadi Comanche (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
What you might not know is that the film is based on a true story of a little girl, taken captive by Comanche raiders, and surnamed Parker whose son (half Indian, half White) was Quanah Parker.
Now all you American history buffs should know who he was. As it happens the little girl lived in the part of East Texas where I was born and is well-known to Texicans.
I am reading both books simultaneously and read more of my Lincoln book yesterday as well as the essay by Ozick. I rotate books, and often have several going at the same time. Actually, I might not be able to read one book straight through after over 30 years of graduate school where you always had to read three books at a time. Besides, I am a high-strung person according to my Mom and David. I wonder if that’s what they call ADD today?