welcome to the hyunam-dong bookshop - hwang bo-reum (2023, translated)

the author says, i wanted to write what i want to read. she has written a delightful and charming book!

this is a gentle and courteous story about ordinary people seeking to be better versions of themselves. her style is sedate and proper but her pacing is quite masterful. i find myself interrupted by life but scuttling back to the warm embrace of the book.

that's not to say it is perfect. that a new bookstore is able to support 3-and-a-half employees within five years of life is a little unbelievable. as is the very existence of such a cocooned enclave as forms the magic of this book. 

i like that the relationship with the mother is not resolved. one gets tired of neat tidy resolutions when clearly these often do not happen in real life.

this has been a lovely interlude with a really pleasurable read.

health preoccupations

the main preoccupations of our friends these days appear to be:

• cancer 
• lower urinary tract issues
• cataracts, and
• cracked teeth

3 varietals

friends that grow old with you are like wine, i think. some really good ones deepen and widen with maturity and you take them out to savor a sip or three every year or so. 

i have lunch with Su who is like an excellent shiraz. bold and strong and rich and generous. we share imperfections and failures and fears and stories of hope and grace together.

i have lunch with Te who is a chardonnay. light and gentle and fruity and delicate. i see my younger idealism in her clear eyes and daring dreams.

today i have tea with Sh who is a pinot noir. complex and unique and hardworking and lovely. how serendipitous, i think, the friendship that has grown out of our long ago encounters and endured expatriation repatriation and the years in between!

how fortunate i am to have a well curated cellar.

greying

the supermarket cashier asks if i am a senior citizen.

i am torn between greed for a 3% discount and vanity. 

vanity wins. i am a few months short, i mumble.

one wretched hour

i wait well, i think. give me a good book and a shady spot with a nice cuppa and i'm set till you are done. except when my wait for a cellphone battery transplant means an agonizing hour of purgatory.

because the book is in the 'phone. and the money is in the 'phone. as is the map of this strange neighborhood. even the time is by the 'phone. 

i feel lost and wish to throw a tantrum. how unfair it is, i think to myself. to come to the end of a long day to be so hungry and so far from the day's rest. all because my 'phone is giving up its lithium ghost.

i surreptitiously glance at strangers' wrists to figure up when my hour is up. and what do you know? lots of folks have stopped wearing wristwatches! and of those who do, most are wearing smartwatches with anonymous faces. wear analog, people! perform a public service!

in any case my cellphone is rejuvenated with new energy and i am back to my streamlined efficiency.

my little saddle bag

meet carmen, my new wee sacoche! home to the phone the headphones the spare battery and key to a new independence (one hopes).

she's quirky she's handy she's lived in and just (according to HOM) a tad rustic. 

you can have your politically correct PU version and vegan stuff but gimme unapologetic leather and japanese craftsmanship. 

mature student

today's news has a congratulatory account of a 70-year-old man who goes to medical school at 65 after he retires from his sales job and is graduating tomorrow. 

so. lifelong learning. grit. inspiring. commendableness par excellence. 

but. also ghastly and borderline horrifying. one sincerely hopes people do not start to think that five years of school makes a physician.

the real doctor will see you shortly - matt mccarthy (2015)

unexpectedly thoughtful. i expect a gregarious comedic romp and instead leave with a rather touching coming-of-age account that is fairly realistic as well.

his description of outpatient sam with his fifteen-item diagnosis list hits the (tender) spot exactly. as does his description of self-preserving depersonalization. 

the village of eight graves - s. yokomizo (1950; translated 2021)

WHOAAAAA.

agonizing development but:

• plenty of bodies (💪)
• nicely paced narrative (except for the agonizing bits)
• and twist after twist after twist 

the best part is, the story continues for four additional chapters after we unmask the murderer, with new developments in every chapter. if this is not satisfying i don't know what is.

many thanks to B for introducing me to Kosuke Kindaichi.

solo breakfast

overcast sky outside. repast inside. with a good book and no requirement to converse. lovely.

company is lovely too! no aspersions cast on anyone! but this is a really nice beginning to the day.

inattendu

i have a really long day at work the other day. my colleagues are new and require hand-holding. patients come later than their scheduled time and take more than their allotted. 

as well as out-of-the-blue 'phone calls from relatives. 

my dad had a fall this morning, she says. he was drenched in his own sweat. what should i do? he refuses to see anyone. will you speak to him? i do, over the 'phone. to my immense gratitude, we have sufficient history between us for him to decide to listen.

my mum's skin is breaking out again, her daughter tells me, at her wits' end. we work out a plan to bring her in for a check in the next days.

to be a pilgrim, victoria sweet says, is to know the starting point and the ending and to have adventures in between. to go and peaceably (and even delightedly) meet the people and events that come my way unannounced. 

my aim for this year, most belatedly, is to be more pilgrim-like.

the freezer situation 2

wuz another* sale.

*in any case we all know ice cream is protein and is low glycemic index.

a fortunate woman - polly morland (2022)

gentle thoughtful deep inspiring awesome when she is describing the country doctor's life and practice. especially appreciated because this is a narrative of contemporary medical work up against current challenges and constraints.

but also long-winded especially with the weather and sky and river and valley and stuff.

it bites the dust

there goes our saturday morning dates over coffee and toast.

pickleball adventure 3

still aching. 

especially the waist, which is unaccustomed to the twists and turns such as it was subjected to. also the back of the upper arms, which are unaccustomed to the wild swings and swipes as were imposed on them by the paddle action. the legs are faring better though. seeing as i keep walking on them.

the diary of a bookseller - shaun bythell (2017)

gently snarky dry wit. delightful and addictive daily updates of modern small town life through the eyes of their used books bookseller. not a book you can speed read. and a book without any dramatic development whatsoever. truly a book to have coffee and a break with.

somehow his description of winter (the cold the light the short days and the lack of intentional foot traffic) brings back sudden memories of winter in langley back in our virginia days.

i am delighted to discover he has written a couple more diaries and i have become a follower of his facebook page.

pickleball adventure 2

i note a change in the character of the bodily agony today. the emotive vowel-predominant ow gives way to a tight and dull consonant-driven interpretation of recent unseasonal muscular activity.

ugggghhhhhdddd.

pickleball adventure

come join us! it's an enjoyable game! our middle-aged friends say. and so we join them.

today my arms my thighs my waist and my toenails ache. also, inexplicably, the nape of my neck.

and HOM's right elbow and his left knee.

owwwww.

exertion in middle-age

pickleball elbow

/pi.kuhl·bawl el·bow/

noun

medical

1. just like tennis elbow, only less glamorous.

hiatus

coffee. us. rain outside. good book inside. then a nap.

an excellent afternoon.

junket

half-day trip into JB almost purely to feed ourselves. BKT and egg tarts and CKT with coffee for resuscitation. we go with Jo and Ma who have unexpectedly become friends over work-outs and meals and who we will miss when they relocate to Japan. all the more precious because we make fewer friends as we grow older.

invisible women - sarah long (2017)

dilemma.

decent writing. sharp observations. female friendship.

vs.

so much unhappiness. marital infidelity. unidimensional males.

life is too short for mediocre reads. should i abandon this?

national day 2024

a day late, but we celebrate national day with national colors repast and the parade, as always.

i've crossed all the borders an' all that but i am grateful for my adopted country and for that fateful decision decades back that brought me here.

death on gokumon island - seishi yokomizo (1948, translated 2022)

classic detective story in the style of agatha christie and the japanese equivalent of judge dee with courtly detectives multiple bodies and a meaty solution.

the only problem is the hero's tendency to dandruff. maybe that was a humanizing trait in the post-WWII years but these days a girl can only tolerate so much hygiene aberration. i can accept cigarette smoking as a sign of his times and his stammer as a necessary weakness but dandruff is right up there with body odor.

in conclusion: will plow on and enjoy the murders but may have to discreetly avert eyes when he scratches that bird's nest of hair.

final separation

one final cuppa and then exit clearance.

who woulda thought the gal had 11 more years in her back in 2013?

grateful and glad.