Book report (and food report)

I read two good (and fairly light) books this week. The first was Bad Faith, by Aimée and David Thurlo, who write the Ella Clah series about a Native American policewoman/former FBI agent. Bad Faith is about a nun/former investigative journalist, Sister Agatha, who is an extern nun at a monastery, meaning she is one of two sisters who serve as liaison between the cloistered nuns and the rest of the community.

I enjoy reading about nuns; I think it's probably a fantasy of a lot of young girls to become a nun, or maybe that's just me. It's kind of a romantic notion, being locked away from the world behind habits and walls, spending your life praying and doing the simple things--gardening, cooking, sewing. Sort of a heavyweight version of running away from home.

Sister Agatha's background serves her well when the parish priest dies and she volunteers to help the sheriff (an old boyfriend) solve the murder so the monastery can get back to normal. Several things in the book seemed kind of over-the-top: the monastery is given a vintage motorcycle with a sidecar to temporarily replace their broken down station wagon (the "anti-Chrysler"), and then there's a scene in a biker bar that I could see coming a mile away, but despite a few false notes, I really enjoyed the book.

The second book I read this week was A Fistful of Sky by Nina Kiriki Hoffman. This book is about a family who, when they reach young adulthood, "transition" and gain magical powers. Opal, Jasper, Flint, Gypsum and Beryl. I loved the names, and would recite them to myself to remember them.

All of the other children have their transitions, learn to do magic--change each other into weird creatures, cast spells on each other, figure out their powers--but Gypsum never does. Then, in her twenties, during a weekend when everyone else in the family is gone, she transitions and gains her power, which turns out to be the power of curses, like someone else in the family--someone who isn't talked about much.

I enjoyed this book, too, and thought the characters were exceptionally well-developed; the kind of family that you remember for a long time afterward, and wonder how they're doing. A big family in a big rambling house--brothers and sisters running up and down the stairs, inside and outside, congregating in the kitchen or around the dining room table for family meetings. Mother is a television personality who casts spells to get what she wants, and Father is a normal person--not magical. His character is probably the hardest to read, but that may be by intent. He always seems a little befuddled and on the edge of events. He's not magical, after all.

Last night I started a new book, The Apocalypse Door, by James D. McDonald, which is about . . . well, what I told Bob last night before I started reading it was that it was about a priest who is also a spy. But then I started reading it, and it's about "warrior monks"--members of the Knights Templar, bound to "protect holy places, travelers in holy places, and certain relics." Bob came down last night and I said, "This book is interesting, it's about the Knights Templar, but in present day, priests that carry guns" and Bob said, "Not priests, warrior monks."

I firmly believe I could ask Bob anything, and he would know the answer.

Lynda is doing a food journal, which I think is interesting. I don't know why it is, but I do enjoy reading what other people are eating. It almost makes me want to do it myself, but it wouldn't be nearly as interesting since I eat the same things day after day.

My lunches this week so far (Monday through Thursday) have been exactly the same every day: red beans and rice, hummus on sourdough bread, carrot sticks, and cantaloupe. And an orange for dessert. Dinner every night has been spaghetti and tomato sauce, and breakfasts were yogurt, granola, and a banana. Except for this morning, when I stopped at McDonald's and had a bacon, egg and cheese bagel. I generally allow myself one McDonald's breakfast a week as a treat, usually on Thursday--kind of a reward for getting almost through the week.

Bob asked me what I wanted for dinner tonight, and I said I was kind of tired of spaghetti, although really, I could eat it almost every night. I asked for a grilled cheese sandwich and cream of mushroom soup, but I think I'm getting a cold--everyone here at work is sick--and he said he didn't think I should have the dairy. So he's making me chicken noodle soup, I think, and I don't know what else. Oh, and a Hostess cupcake, because I woke up this morning thinking about them, and because he takes good care of me.