Welcome to Adopting Your Pet

If you read my post from last week, you might have seen in the last paragraph that I announced that I had adopted a cat. This was both a spontaneous and non-spontaneous adoption. It was spontaneous in that I wasn't sure if I was ready to adopt and hadn't fully prepared myself to do so. Non-spontaneous in that I had started looking into having another cat enter my life since January. I had thought about fostering, becoming a pet sitter, or volunteering with a shelter.

She knows she's pretty.

I knew that I would eventually become attached to any fur baby that came into my life, so I figured adoption would be the best for all parties. 

If you've been reading my blog for a while now, you'd know that this isn't my first cat. My first cat, Karma Lynn, passed away last August. She had been living with my full time for five years - starting the summer COVID-19 was in full swing. Before that, she had been living with my mom and her dogs. 

Karma Lynn

Karma Lynn, came to stay with for a weekend in 2008 and never left. We didn't so much "pick her" as she was a tiny little baby who needed love and my family was so excited to provide it. It also helped that our dog, Gertrude (a German Shepard Border Collie mix), decided that she wanted to mother the teeny tiny abandoned kitten with a hurt paw. Gertrude sadly passed away in 2019.

Gertrude

Unlike Karma Lynn, Gertrude had been adopted after my parents did a bunch of research on Border Collies. Our first family dog, Lafayette, was a Cocker Spaniel English Setter mix. He had also been adopted at a rescue event at a local pet store. We had gotten him when he was two and well past the puppy stage. He had some quirks, but my parents loved how protective he was towards me and my sibling. Sadly he passed away very young (he had cancer at the age of six). My parents had agreed that we'd get a puppy after Lafayette and thought that a Border Collie would be a good bread for our family. 

Initially, we went to see a different Border Collie puppy. I don't remember the dog's name, though I do recall that the puppy was a boy. However, one of my parents spotted Gertrude and decided that she was perfect for our family. It probably helped that puppy Gertrude fell asleep in my dad's hand while we were bonding with her and it was beyond adorable.

Long story short, I was used to adopting pets. Karma (and to a lesser extent my mom's Husky Millie) was a product of the cat distribution system (also known as the CDS). This is when the universe decides that a person or family needs a cat and one shows up that becomes that person or family's cat.

I could have left it up to the CDS again. There are a number of cats who run around the neighborhood and it's unclear home many of them have permanent homes. However, I also have specific needs when it comes to cats. 

Specifically, I'm super allergic to short hair cats and mildly allergic to long haired cats. Naturally, if I wanted another cat, it would have to be long haired. 

I was also a bit attached to Karma Lynn's fur coat. She was what was known as having a prominent tortoiseshell coat. These cats are known as torties. Technically with the white splotch on Karma's chest, she was more of a mix between a calico and tortoiseshell - otherwise known as torticos. So I was keeping my eye out for a long haired tortie up for adoption. 

This is a rarer combination that some of you might realize. Tortoiseshell coats are already fairly uncommon, but combined with a long haired cat (which make up 10% of the cat population), I was looking for a very small needle in a very large haystack. 

That was until a family friend who had started a rescue mentioned that another rescue had recently gotten a long haired tortie in. The friend gave me the contact information for the rescue and I hesitated. 

Was I ready for a new cat? 

The trauma of losing Karma is still fresh. I know some people can get new pets fairly soon after a loss, but I wasn't sure if I was ready. 

The truth is, I missed having a cuddle buddy. I missed playing and laughing with a furry friend. I missed having a companion to look after (no I don't need a significant other, grown people should be able to take care of themselves). 

A few days later, I decided to ask about the rescued cat.

However, the long haired tortie wasn't the cat I ended up taking home. 

While I was at the rescue, I met the cat I was curious about. She was tiny and had been bullied by the bigger cats. She was cute and sweet, but we didn't fully connect and she was a lot young than I was hoping to adopt. The rescuer mentioned that she had two other long haired cats that I could meet. One was an eight year old boy, the other was a one or two year old girl.

The long haired boy was sweet and super cuddly. I wouldn't have minded him, but he seemed really happy with his rescuer. 

The girl, however, immediately ran up to me and demanded my full attention. Her foster name was Summer and she had a light brindle back with white legs and stomach. She wasn't a tortie, but she was very close to one. She started batting the other cats away from me - pretty much saying that I was her human. 

I had been chosen and Summer was coming home with me. 

I waited a week so that I could get my house in order and get through a stressful week at work. In that time, I thought up a name for my new feline companion. Summer was a nice name, but she looked like a regal lady and I wanted to give her a name worthy of her look. Before meeting her, I was toying with the name Pawlette as a fun pun. This cat was not a Pawlette. 

I then went through a few more regal sounding names like Cordelia, Aurora, and Artemisia. I even thought of names that might incorporate her foster name - like Lady Summerwind. 

Then I remembered my favorite character from one of my favorite books. Wilhelmina Harker, nee Murry, is an amazing character in Dracula the book. If there was a name for this cat it was Wilhelmina. Summer became her middle name. 

I brought her home last Saturday and it's been an adjustment. I'm lucky that I get to work from home whenever I want. So I spent the last week home with her - I also spent a small fortune on cat trees, food, treats, and other supplies. We did end up going to the vet in the middle of the week and I found out she has a double ear infection, but otherwise she seems very happy.

I wasn't expecting to adopt the cat that I did - especially once I found out she was just over a year old. However, I do think I made the right choice. I'm already happily changing my life (for the better) to meet Willa's needs (I'm calling her Willa instead of Mina for short). 

So please give a warm welcome to Wilhelmina Summer. She's already captured my heart.

Until next week. 

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope you all like hearing from me.

Welcome to Building Up the Garden

For many years, I had small containers on my apartment balcony filled with flowers, herbs, and vegetables. They didn't always produce a lot - it didn't help that my balcony faced North and didn't get the intense six hours of sun most of the plants required - but I was still able to grow something.

Last year (around this time), I moved into my first house. Part of my excitement in having a house was creating a garden. I had once growing up. My parents always planted tons of kitchen herbs, tomatoes, and flowers. My dad always insisted on having tomatoes in the garden.

Part of my chores growing up was weeding the garden. By my late teens, I finally decided to add my own plants to take care of. I planted carrots, bush beans, and peppers. I don't know why I picked bush beans as I didn't like them (at the time), but they were so easy and fun to grow. I ended up giving them away to my coworkers at the cafe I worked at over the summer. The carrots always ended up looking hilarious - Virginia's soil is heavy with clay which isn't as forgiving as other soil compositions for straight carrots. The peppers and tomatoes were fine.

Since then, I've always had some kind of plant with me. My first indoor plant was a gifted Christmas cactus (that finally died on it's trip from New Jersey back to Virginia), followed by a rosemary plant - that died a lot sooner (rosemary doesn't do well in pots). Then I ended up with a King Tut papyrus and spider plant. These two are still going strong.

I started trying to seriously grow herbs and vegetables again when I moved back to Virginia and had a balcony (my places in New Jersey didn't have outdoor space) and Maryland's apartment was very shady. The results of a north facing balcony garden was mixed. I have a sage plant that's lasted almost six years now.

Last year, as a house warming, I was gifted several large planters I could have on my deck. As I wasn't prepared to start a garden in my yard (and there were already plants in the sectioned off areas that I didn't want to mess with), I chose to container garden on my deck. 

Results, again, were mixed.

My backyard is north facing with lots of trees - specifically a beautiful Japanese maple that takes up a good quarter of the yard. The sun it gets is okay on part of the deck, but not perfect. Also the weather was horrendous last year and I lost a good chunk of my plants to extreme weather conditions. 

However, I was able to get some peas, bush beans, tomatoes, lettuce, and herbs. So far the strawberries have returned this year (I have to fight the birds for them) and my thyme was able to overwinter without a problem. I did lose the parsley, though, and the jury is out on my rosemary and lavender in the front bed. 

This year, I added a raised bed outside my shed. I've planted a larger tomato plant, a banana pepper plant, and a "lunch box sweet" pepper plant. As companions, I added marigolds, cucumbers, and a row of carrots. 

So far the weather has been okay. We did have a late frost (after it being in the freaking 90s in early April). However, the plants I recently purchased at the Leesburg Plant and Flower Festival have been doing well. 

For those of you not in the Northern Virginia area (and for those who are, but aren't aware), Leesburg has an annual Plant and Flower Festival in mid-April. It takes up the main historic part of the town with tons of venders and activities. They even have a spot for where kids can do crafts. I like going because I can often find plants that are specifically cultivated for the Virginia climate and find some native plants. 

However, the native plant garden is a future AJ project. 

With Earth Day being on a Wednesday this year, the Leesburg Plant and Flower Festival was the weekend prior, while the Fairfax County Earth Day celebration was this past Saturday. I finally went to the Earth Day celebration as it was advertised on Meetup by my local chapter of the Sierra Club. They had a nice booth set up. 

Fairfax County seems to have fun with their Earth Day celebrations. There were tons of trucks and busses to touch - the usual fire engines and farm vehicles along with a city bus and garbage truck. The kids were having a blast climbing all over. They also had a rock wall, animals from the Fairfax County farm on Frying Pan Road, and lots of educational booths. I learned a few things about native insects and invasive clams and crayfish. 

There were also a lot of fun food trucks. 

Some of the booths were giving out seed "bombs" for people to plant at home. I picked up a milkweed plant after verifying that it was a native milkweed - non-natives will happily take over everything if given the change. I hope to plant it soon and see some monarch butterflies this year (if not future years). It'll be the start of my native garden.

Well now you've read an entire blog post where I gush about plants. I still have several indoor only plants and a few I keep indoors in the winter and outside during the summer, but some of that is changing.

See, some plants are toxic to our furry friends and I just adopted a cat. I'm currently moving these plants to places she isn't allowed and will either rehome them or find better places for them to stay away from her little claws. My house is also a lily free zone since they are especially dangerous to cats. I didn't have to worry about these plants with my last cat as she was completely uninterested in anything that was the color green (including catnip), but I'm taking no chances with my new kitty.

I'll give you an update on her in one of my future posts. 

Until next week. 

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope you all like hearing from me.

Welcome Everything is Tuberculosis

The series of ridiculous events continued throughout March. Mercury was in retrograde for most of it, so maybe that's why I felt like a mess. The mix of  "confusion, delays, and disruptions in communication, travel, and decision-making" (see link from Farmer's Almanac above) wasn't helped by how busy I've been.

But now it's Easter! It's April! It's Spring!

So what do I want to write about? Tuberculosis. 

In mid-March, I finished John Green's Everything is Tuberculosis. The book itself isn't just the history of the disease, but a biography of a young man named Henry who has Tuberculosis (henceforth shorted to TB) in Sierra Leone. John met Henry on a trip to Sierra Leone while they were visiting a TB hospital. Initially thinking Henry was the child of one of the doctors or nurses, John soon learned that Henry had a unique strand of TB that couldn't be treated with first or second line standard treatments. Unless Henry was approved for a new, experimental drug, his survival chances were slim to none.

I likely learned about TB from the 1990s History Channel series "Haunted History". The show took viewers to different cities and locations around the United States, United Kingdom, and parts of the Caribbean to teach history through ghost stories. TB was often one of the causes of death that wasn't violent in the show.

Of course, I learned more about TB once my history classes started focusing on the Victorian period and my English classes had us study poetry. John Keats and the Brontë sisters were well known victims of the disease, but I had no idea that George Orwell or Dashiell Hammett had also died because of TB. They lived well into the mid-twentieth century.

It wasn't until I watched an episode of "Crossing Jordan" that I learned that TB was still around. I thought it had gone the way of Small Pox. I thought it was a disease of the past that could never show up in modern society. Most TB sanitariums were the setting of ghost hunting events, not places that still took in patients. 

A few years after seeing that episode, I'm getting ready to go to college. As part of the preparations I need to get a few extra vaccines and be tested for TB. It wasn't a medical test I was familiar with. The doctor basically gave me a shallow shot and told me that if a bubble formed on my skin in the next few days, to come back as quickly as possible. False positives could also occur if the injected area was irritated or rubbed too much. I spent the next few days hyper aware of this tiny patch of skin. 

I tested negative by the way. 

TB is also a lot older than I thought. John Green explains that it has existed as long as humans have. There are mummies that have been discovered with signs of TB infections. I thought TB was a newer disease, like AIDs. 

Lungs aren't the only organ TB can infect. It can jump to the kidneys, liver, bones, skin, among other location. And TB can lay dormant in a person for years before it becomes active, which is when it becomes deadly. 

Because people didn't understand how diseases like TB spread for a long time, superstitions and incorrect assumptions became the norm. During the Victorian era, many doctors thought it was a genetic disease because it often quickly killed off entire families. Upper classes seemed to assume that the lower classes couldn't be infected with TB and it was only a wealthy and creative person's disease. 

Obviously they were wrong. Anyone can get TB. It's spread from droplets expelled by a person when they cough or spit. 

TB even caused a vampire scare in New England in the late 1800s. Mercy Brown had been the first member of her family to die of TB. However, instead of accepting the TB diagnosis, her family began to suspect that she was actually a vampire, stealing the "life force" of her family. As more members of her family died, her father and other members of the community, decided to dig up her body. It didn't look like it had decomposed at all and there was blood in her heart. Clearly, that meant she was the one causing her family to fall ill and die. Her father removed her heart and liver, burned them, then turned the ashes into a tonic for Mercy's sick brother to drink. 

The brother died two months later...from TB.

I'm not going to tell you how the book ends. If you want to learn Henry's fate, you should pick up a copy to read for yourself. I got mine out from the library.

What I will tell you, is that Henry's TB progressed into a treatment resistant strain for a couple of reasons. The biggest reason is because when he was first diagnosed as a little kid his first line treatment was continually interrupted. Sierra Leone's health care system was already over burdened before the civil war broke out in the early 2000s. Further complicating Henry's treatment was his low socioeconomic status and his father's distrust of medical advice. At one point, Henry's father even stopped him from taking his medication and took him to a faith healer instead. 

In addition to Henry's worsening illness, he also had to deal with the social stigma of having TB. In the century since TB provided a coveted look for poets and creatives to romanticize, it became stigmatized as a disease that only poor people suffer from. People didn't want to approach him or his mother (she also had TB, but responded to first line treatment).

It was the interruptions to Henry's treatment that caused the TB to mutate so that the disease could no longer be treated with the standard medications. It evolved, like many diseases do, until all known treatments were ineffective. 

One of the many reasons doctors tell you to take your anti-biotic medicine until the prescription is finished even if you feel better, is because of mutating diseases. There are now tons of diseases that used to be easy to treat, but now are resistant to standard care - many are bacterial. Viruses are also prone to these mutations. The reason we need flu shots every year is because of how quickly the flu vaccine mutates. 

Many diseases that were once thought to be "extinct" in the United States are suddenly coming back. My parents used to tell stories about measles and mumps, they knew at least one person who had gone deaf because of the common childhood disease. I never had the measles or mumps because I got a vaccine when I was really little. My parents didn't want me to suffer from a disease they knew could be deadly or, at the very least, have serious life changing side effects. 

On that note. Please check out Everything is Tuberculosis and listen to your doctors about what's best for your health and the community's health.

Oh and Happy Easter. I hope the bunny left some chocolate for you.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like hearing from me.

Until next week. 

Welcome to a Series of Increasingly Ridiculous Events

I have had a wild week and a half. It didn’t start well, then became overwhelming, and has ended on an upswing. What happens next is anyone’s guess.

I’d say that everything started to go down hill on the last Friday in February, but I think the grey clouds really started gathering on Thursday…maybe Wednesday. Basically, I left my laptop at the office Wednesday night, didn’t realize it until I was about to start work at home Thursday morning, and had to work extra late. On Friday, I noticed something hanging from the bottom of my car. The car still ran okay, but I had a sinking gut feeling that this was it. My almost 13 year old Ford Focus was done being a part of my life.

Yes, I cried. She was my first car that I owned. She came with me through five moves, three states, several major life events, and I put a lot of money in her to keep her alive.

Then I checked my mail box and I found a letter summoning me for jury duty on my day off. 

While going through all of this, I was trying to hire landscapers to fix a falling retaining wall on the side of my house.

Oh, and the United States bombed Iran. 

Great. Perfect. Just what we need.

I decided to start my car shopping on Sunday. In less than a week, I did a bunch of research, found a few car options through a car buying service I have access to, and got pre-approved for a loan. 

While that was going on, I got my poor old Focus looked at, fixed (for the most part), and locked myself out of my house. 

When I went to pick up my car from the shop, the check engine light popped on. Not the death red one, but the soft “this needs attention soon” yellow light. I asked the shop if it was because I opted to not buy the new battery (since I’d decided to buy a new car and all) with the tariff surcharge. They said no, took my keys (all of my keys), and (after half an hour) gave me the option to leave it overnight. As soon as I stepped out of the Lyft, I realized the shop never gave me back my house keys.

Panic sets in. The shop was technically closed, but I had overheard that they tend to stay a little after official closing hours. I raced back in an Uber, while also having a locksmith on standby. I actually hadn’t thought to call a locksmith until after calling my friends in that blind panic and one of them mentioned that that was an option.

The Uber driver was great. The poor guy from Afghanistan had just lost his job to layoffs and was dealing with my panicking self like a champ. He reminded me how to add a second stop to my trip so I wouldn’t be stranded at the car shop after getting there (my phone was at 9% and dying fast).

This is where my luck started to shift. 

The shop had been closed roughly 45 minutes, but there was still one lone mechanic there. He was just switching off the office lights when I ran up to the window like a hunted rabbit, jumping and waving to get his attention. He carefully approached the front door, not sure if the crazy person outside wasn’t dangerous, and I yelled that they had my house keys.

As soon as I said that I owned the Focus, he knew who I was and gave me my keys. The Uber driver took me home and I spent the rest of the evening thanking the multiverse for my stupid luck.

The work week was otherwise uneventful, minus a bunch of dealerships texting, emailing, and calling me to set up appointments. I finally found a pre-owned car that I’d be happy with. It was a 2026 with less than 1000 miles on it. It wasn’t exact color I wanted, but it wasn’t one I couldn’t live with. I made an appointment to see that exact car on Friday.

Though my luck was starting to turn, some of my friends weren’t having that same experience. One friend was stuck in the Middle East trying to get to their parent’s funeral. The same region that was currently breaking out into violence. Americans were being told to shelter in place or find someway to evacuate. The death toll was rising. 

My friend is okay, but they didn’t make it to the funeral. I’m just so glad that they are okay.

Friday rolls around, I go to the dealership, no car. It was a service rental and they had rented it out. This dealership tried to up sell me on a new car of the same model, but I wasn’t in the mood. Even after they offered me a nice price for the Focus, I said I wouldn’t make any choices unless I saw the car I made the appointment for. 

I waited all Saturday morning, but no progress on the car I’d hoped to buy. So I went back to my car buying service and found a different car in the color I wanted at the original dealership I had done my test driving. It was also a service rental car with a few more miles, but a fair bit cheaper.  

That was the car I ended up buying. The dealership that I had gone to on Friday eventually did get back to me with the car I originally wanted to see, but it was too late at that point. I had a much better deal with this other car and even managed to swing free oil changes at the brand for as long as I owned the car. They even gave me a lower APR than I thought was possible.

I still cried about selling my old car. An emotional release that was sorely needed.

Now, I’m nervous that another catastrophe is around the corner. Yes, I had a tough week, but it all weirdly turned out okay. 

But we’re still in this tense limbo of whether or not the United States is at war with Iran. Prices are rising like crazy. My friend was stuck in the UAE while Iran retaliated against US allies and angry protests were breaking out. ICE was spotted in the town I grew up in, not too far from where I live now.

Why am I still anxious? 

Before each event I just faced, I was able to prepare. I don’t feel prepared anymore.

If you enjoyed this post, please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope you guys like hearing from me.

Until next week. 

Welcome to Mental Health First Aid

Please note that this post discusses some topics that might be distressing for some people. I will be discussing what it means to be a mental health first aid provider and some examples of where my skills may be needed. Reader disgression is advised. 

For the second time, I am a certified Mental Health First Aider. 

Autobot: First Aid here to help!

You might be wondering what this means and I'm sure you are familiar with a traditionally certified first aid provider. Instead of providing physical first aid by assessing a person in need of help in the form of bandages, CPR, and recovery positions, I am able to assess a person in need of mental health intervention. 

This can take a few form such as talking to a person who is displaying behavioral changes or signs of mental distress, providing first step information on being treated for mental health illnesses, and deescalating mental health distress. It does not mean that I am able to diagnose a person, provide medical advice or treatment plans, or serve as a person's therapist. Just as a regular first aider doesn't need to have a medical license, I don't need one either. 

I was able to take the mental health first aid course because my company offered to pay for me to take it. The company likes to have a set number of employees who certified to ensure a healthy work environment. They paid for my first certification back in 2023. This certification lasts for three years as well.

Do I recommend getting certified in regular first aid and mental health first aid? Yes, though I haven't had the opportunity to be regular first aid certified since high school. They both serve the purpose of providing aid to people in distress. 

Believe it or not, I have actually used my mental health first aid certification a few times. I won't go into details, but I have had to deescalate a couple of situations where my training came in handy and was able to identify someone having a crisis. For that person, it was at a work event. I assessed the situation and found that it was likely above my skill level and immediately contacted the right parties to handle the situation. 

The reason I didn't approach the person in crisis is simple: as the first aider, my safety is also important. If I don't think a situation would be safe for me, I need to be able to contact those who can handle it. Though you can call 911 for a mental health crisis or challenge, 988 is the better number to use. Most counties and city in the United States have trained personnel that handle people in mental distress than the regular police. 

988 is the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline in the United States.

Additionally, a person experiencing a mental health challenge can go or be taken to the emergency room. There they can be physiologically evaluated and given first steps in healing. 

Now, you may be getting the impression from all this that a mental health crisis or challenge is someone who is actively suicidal, has a personality disorder that hasn't been addressed, or is experiencing psychosis. While those can occur, most mental health first aid is given to people who aren't at those stages. I am more likely to notice and assess a pattern of behaviors and encourage a person to seek medical intervention, rather than talk down someone having hallucinations. 

The purpose of being a mental health first aider is to provide early intervention for a person experiencing a mental health challenge so that it doesn't develop into a crisis. It is an unfortunate fact that the majority of people wait ten or more years to seek help after the first mental health challenge symptoms take place. However, the vast majority of mental health challenges are recoverable.

I could go on about the different types of mental health challenges I can provide first aid for, but a lot of them are distressing to the average person. Hell, they distress on an average day. Which is why my training includes a heavy emphasis on self-care plans and my own safety. 

Earlier, I mentioned that there was a situation that I felt was above my skill level. This feeling included my personal safety and the safety of those around me. I am not exactly the biggest person and the type of distress the person was experiencing wasn't clear. Instead of approaching the person in crisis, I contacted those who were better trained to - i.e. a building's security guard and the health clinic employees who were on location - and kept other people at a safe distance. The security guard was great, by the way, and kept the person calm until the clinic employees arrived. 

That was the best course of action I could take in that situation.

I do hope that mental health challenges and illnesses do become less stigmatized. Part of that process involves learning and knowing what to do when you see someone having a mental health challenge. Sometimes these situations are easy to spot and other times it subtle, requiring you to already be familiar with the person. It is important to not be dismissive, provide a non-judgmental space, and encourage that person to seek help. If you think a person is suicidal, it is better to be direct in addressing it as neutrally as possible and calling 988 or 911 right away.

If you are interested in mental health first aid certification, I got mine through the National Council for Mental Health. Their mental health training can be tailored for adults, children, and adolescence. From what I understand, they also have a training program for law enforcement.

Being a first aider is not for everyone, but I encourage everyone to at least look into the training. Understanding and knowing how to help someone in a mental health challenge or crisis can be a critical step in that person's recovery. You never know when you might need to have these skills.

Until next week. 

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please, like, share and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like hearing from me.

Welcome to the Library

 A couple of weeks ago I saw Shakespeare's play As You Like It. The first time I saw this play was in the town of Stratford, Canada - a town famous for it's Shakespeare festivals and productions. This time I saw the play in my local library. 

That's right, I got to see a classic English play at my local library and it was good. 

It was also free to attend and they kept the dirty jokes in.

This isn't unusual for the library near me. They put on a play every few months that's completely free for anyone to attend. Yes, they ask that you preregister and it's implied that you should be a member of our library system, but if there's still seats in the room, they'll let you in.

I love going to the library. I have since I was a kid. They have always had great programing and a quiet space to spend time. 

However, my love of libraries was likely cultivated by the children's program creators at PBS. Several of my favorite shows (Wishbone, Reading Rainbow, and Arthur to name a few) often told me to check out a book at my local library. It was part of Wishbone's ending catchphrase (seriously we need a new version of Wishbone, maybe one where Joe is grown up with his kids and their loyal literary loving pooch introducing kids to new literary classics).

I loved this show.

Not only does my library have books, they have board games (and space to play said board games), DVDs, magazines, and sometimes CDs (these are becoming less and less available). I can access my library's digital archives using the Libby app. 

If there's a book I'm interested in, but don't feel like purchasing (or I didn't win the GoodReads free giveaway), I get it at the library. Hilariously, my library likes to let me know how much I've saved with the dollar amount clearly labeled on my check-out receipts.

My art club usually meets in one of the libraries in the county and, the first club I joined when I moved to Maryland, was based out of our library. I didn't go to the libraries in New Jersey as much as I have in Maryland or Virginia, but I still had a card and had my taxes done...for free. 

That's right, you can get your taxes done at the local library FOR FREE. It might be sponsored by AARP. but they won't turn you away just because you're under the age of 50. 

True, there are a few extras you have to pay for. If I need to print something, I have to pay 10 cents a page. This isn't a hardship at all. I can also use the scanner, too. We also have a 3D printer, but I've never asked about using it.

The library offers a lot of community benefits, but it is at risk. Between book banners, funding cuts, and political pressure, libraries in parts of the United States are struggling. Rural communities are the most at risk of losing access to libraries and their programing. 

There have been suggestions that the solution is to privatize libraries - think an Amazon version. However, this wouldn't solve the problem and might even exasperate it. People would lose out on their free access to information, a safe place to spend time, and necessary community programing (did I mention I got my taxes done FOR FREE). Privatization also puts profits over accessibility, meaning that rural areas would still lose out due to their lower volume of foot traffic. 

Also, libraries aren't supposed to make a profit (neither are post offices, firefighters, and other public services). Libraries are supposed to serve their communities - which my library does.

The libraries I've had the privilege to be a member of have all been spectacular. They've had great programing and space for community events. The librarians have always done a fantastic job. 

The best way you can support your local library is to get a library card. The number of people who have library cards can impact the budget they receive. You can also volunteer to help with programing or host a club at the library. 

Currently, my library is doing a post-holiday food drive. When I went to drop off my due books, I also included some of the requested food items for donation. 

So I'd like to end this post on an Arthur quote: "having fun isn't hard when you have a library card".

Until next week. 

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like hearing from me.

Welcome to a House of Improbabilities

"This is not for you." 

- House of Leaves by Zampano, or Johnny Truant, or mayebe Mark Z. Danielewski

Some have called it the most horrifying book ever written; others have called it the most boring. My sibling called it weird. These are all words that describe Danielewski's House of Leaves - a book I decided to challenge myself to read last year. 

My book's cover is ripped.

I began reading it at the end of October and finished just before ringing in 2026. I read in spurts. Sometimes the book read like one of the dryer college papers my professors wanted me to tear apart and analyze. At other times, the book sucked me in to the point I lost track of time. The story isn't linear and neither is the book's layout. I was constantly flipping back and forth from the "main" story to different appendixes, exhibits that aren't actually there, and footnotes upon footnotes upon footnotes. I would have to turn the book sideways and upside-down to read the text. Sometimes the text took up a square inch of a page, or there would be one sentence, or a dot, or music notes, or brail. Foreign languages were sometimes not even translated.

The story follows the Navidson family, or maybe it follows Johnny Truant as he tries to decipher the dissertation a dead guy named Zampano, left scattered around his apartment. Really, I think the Editors are the real protagonists. They jump in when things become really confusing, confirming for the reader that things really are that confusing. 

Honestly, if you ignore the footnotes, the story is about the Navidson family moving into a house that starts to grow on the inside while remaining the same size on the outside. The patriarch, called Navy throughout the story, is a photojournalist haunted by a photo he took in Africa. This photo is based on the real photo The Vulture and the Little Girl taken by Kevin Carter. Navy decides he needs to document the move and sets up cameras everywhere.

It almost sounds like the start of a found footage movie. Oh, that's because in the universe of the text, it is a found footage movie - one that the Zampano guy is writing this dissertation is obsessed with. This obsession is then transferred to Johnny Truant who is telling us his life story and mental breakdown. However, the found footage film may not even exist in the world Truant inhabits. It definitely doesn't exist in ours.

The Navidsons quickly discover that the house is growing, but only on the inside. Random hallways, pitch black hallways, appear and stretch reality. Navy begins to explore these hallways with his twin brother and a professor friend from the University of Virginia (the house is near Williamsburg, VA) - all with a trusty camera. 

A few more people join the exploration and what follows is pandemonium. There's a Minotaur monster walking the growing hallways and madness turns to quickly turns to murder. The chapters that provide a scientific explanation were mysteriously destroyed by a bottle of ink spilt by Truant. The Editors apologize for this loss of text. There's also a huge chunk of philosophy that was destroyed by the original writer Zampano.

The book is immersive from page one to the back of the book's summary. Even the copyright page is full of metacommentary and fourth wall breaks and a note on the edition I read. House is always in blue and Minotaur is always red. There is one place where the color purple is used.

I didn't really like Johnny Truant...or any part where he randomly jumped in. I didn't like any of his interjections, except for one. I enjoyed reading his mother's letters while she was locked in an asylum. I didn't need to read his parts of the story, but I did. 

I also didn't find House of Leaves horrifying in the slightest. There was some dread and paranoia, but nothing horrifying. I agree with my sibling, it was weird.

I bought my first house this year and have been slowly unpacking and settling in. My cat passed away in the summer and I just lost an aunt that I am was very close to. I'm trying not to lose myself in all the news being reported on - especially in Minnesota. None of this is relevant to the above. However, it is an example of the writing style in House of Leaves. 

I haven't found any parts of my house that are growing, no dark hallways I can't explain, and no monsters growling in my walls. I can occasionally hear my neighbors and my pipes rattle. There's no where for someone to easily hide in my house.

Why would anyone need to hide in my house?

I can think of a few reasons. I've read a lot of books and seen enough movies to wish I had a hidden room. House of Leaves was not one of those books.

We had our first major snow storm of the season and year. I don't own a proper snow shovel, but I was able to get a regular shovel from Ace Hardware (they were out of snow shovels and salt). With the regular shovel and a broom, I was able to clear the steps and sidewalk. Then more snow came and erased all my work - like how the growing hallways in the Navidson house suddenly vanished. 

I wonder if this book - that is slowly going insane and driving me insane along with it - punched trough its universe and ended up pulling the Navidson story from a third, separate universe. The first universe being the one we inhabit. Truant never found the house in his universe. I doubt it exists in this one. 

I still want to know how this book actually got published. There's no way it would be in our modern publishing climate. 

Do I recommend this book? Sure, if you want a challenge, but it is weird and tragic...and possibly boring in places. Johnny Truant is awful and his parts could be skipped. Maybe this book really wasn't for me, but I did find it compelling. 

There is a lot going on in my life. There's a lot of stress and sadness. Reading a book like House of Leaves took me out of this universe for a little while and let me occupy a different one.

I still don't like Johnny Truant.

Until the next post. 

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like to hear from me.