“Aztecs for the upset!”
Finn had the day off on Monday. He came over to be educated on how to take care of Morrison when we’re in New Orleans. I think he was suitably entertained by the way I spritz the leaves using an olive oil spray bottle. Diana provided some instruction on making sure the pool is in good shape.
In exchange for listening patiently to the instructions, we treated Finn to lunch at Square Burger in downtown McKinney. He didn’t think he’d been before but recognized it when we sat down. I started off with some pea soup – really delicious. This place makes great soup – I really like the corn one they have sometimes. Even Diana enjoyed the flavour, and pea soup (at least a certain kind) is certainly not her thing. The burgers and sweet potato fries were all great. Finn was in great spirits, telling stories about the goings on at the grocery department.
Storms had been rolling through the San Francisco area again on Tuesday, and Diana was wondering if power and internet would be back on by the time she arrived on Wednesday evening. No such luck – a transformer blew and power was unreliable until Thursday. It was a bit later before the internet was resolved – I’m not certain if it is fully fixed at this point.
To entertain myself with McD gone, I watched “The Offer”, a series that I had started on a British Airways flight. Miles Teller stars as the producer of ‘The Godfather”, and the series is based on memoirs of all the crazy activities that went into the making of that film. I really loved this series and the various back stories of getting Mario Puzo to create the screenplay with Francis Ford Coppola, bringing Marlon Brando on board, the negotiations with New York Mafia groups, and on and on. It’s shocking the film was ever made. I highly recommend this series.
The San Diego State University (Campbell and Molly’s alma mater) Aztecs defeated the number one seed, Alabama, in the NCAA basketball tournament on Friday night. This was a bit of an upset, although the Aztecs have had a terrific season. They now play in the Elite Eight round on Sunday afternoon. Campbell was quite excited at the watch party:
I made a trip to the APEX center on Saturday morning – kicking back up the Couch to 5K program. I started back at week 3 and plan to finish the program again by the time we leave New Orleans. After that, I treated myself to a coffee at Duino and enjoyed some of my book. Then I undertook something I really don’t enjoy – went shopping for a new suit for Will and Christine’s wedding. I think I was successful – we’ll see what all the critics think.
I enjoyed a swim on Sunday morning, and then tried out the new dry sauna – very nice and relaxing after all those laps. Then I treated myself to a coffee and a quiche at Filtered with my Sunday crossword.
I just finished watching the San Diego State Aztecs defeat Creighton by 1 point in the final second. What an exciting game. Campbell is very pleased. On to the Final Four for the first time in history.
My book this week was “Our Missing Hearts” by Celeste Ng. Her “Little Fires Everywhere” was one of my favourites of the last few years, and so I had high hopes for this one.
It was an interesting read, but quite different and not as engaging as “Little Fires.” The plot elements are not so far fetched given the anti-Asian sentiment during the early days of COVID, the separation of children from families at the border, and most closely aligned to this story, the banning of books in Florida schools. Here’s an online summary:
“Twelve-year-old Bird Gardner lives a quiet existence with his loving but broken father, a former linguist who now shelves books in a university library. His mother Margaret, a Chinese American poet, left the family when he was nine years old without a trace. Bird knows to not ask too many questions, stand out too much, or stray too far. For a decade, his family’s life has been governed by laws written to preserve “American culture” in the wake of years of economic instability and violence. To keep the peace and restore prosperity, the authorities are now allowed to relocate children of dissidents, especially those of Asian origin, and libraries have been forced to remove books seen as unpatriotic.
Bird has grown up disavowing his mother and her poems; he doesn’t know her work or what happened to her, and he knows he shouldn’t wonder. But when he receives a mysterious letter containing only a cryptic drawing, he is pulled into a quest to find her. His journey will take him back to the many folktales she poured into his head as a child, through the ranks of an underground network of librarians, into the lives of the children who have been taken, and finally to New York City, where a new act of defiance may be the beginning of much-needed change.
Our Missing Hearts is an old story made new, of the ways supposedly civilized communities can ignore the most searing injustice. It’s a story about the power—and limitations—of art to create change, the lessons and legacies we pass on to our children, and how any of us can survive a broken world with our hearts intact.”
Here’s an early passage where a teacher explains why books are banned to her students:
‘”Every school makes its own independent judgments, his teacher said. About which books are useful to their students and which books might expose them to dangerous ideas. Let me ask you something: Whose parents want them to spend time with bad people?”
She looked around the circle. No one raised a hand.
“Of course not. Your parents want you to be safe. That’s part of being a good parent. You all know that I’m a mom, too, right?”
A general murmur of assent.
“Imagine a book that told you lies,” the teacher went on. “Or one that told you to do bad things, like hurt people, or hurt yourself. Your parents would never put a book like that on your bookshelf at home, would they?”
All around the circle, children shook their heads, wide-eyed.
Only Sadie’s stayed still, her arms folded, her mouth a thin straight line.
“Well, it’s like that, the teacher said. We all want our children to be safe. We don’t want them exposed to bad ideas ideas that might hurt them, or encourage them to do bad things. To themselves, or to their families, or to our country. So we remove those books and block sites that might be harmful.”
She smiled around at all of them.
“It’s our job as teachers”, she said, her voice soft but firm. “To take care of all of you, just like I’d take care of my own children.”
“To decide what’s worth keeping and what isn’t. We just have to decide on these things.”
Her gaze came to rest, at last, on Sadie.
“We always have, she said. Nothing’s changed.”
Chilling. Here’s a passage that explains the new PACT law, enacted following “The Crisis”:
“PACT: Preserving American Culture and Traditions. A solemn promise to root out any anti-American elements undermining the nation. Funding for neighborhood-protection groups to break up protests and guard businesses and stores, for make-work projects churning out flags and pins and posters encouraging watchfulness, and reinvesting in America. Funding for new initiatives to monitor China and new watchdog groups to sift out those whose loyalties might be divided. Rewards for vigilance, information leading to potential troublemakers. And finally, most crucially: preventing the spread of un American views by quietly removing children from un American environments.”
I recommend this book, but don’t come into it expecting similar story-telling to “Little Fires Everywhere.”
Here’s something interesting that I came across this week – a collaboration between the amazing New Orleans drummer, Stanton Moore, and Eric Krasno. I’ve been enjoying this album all week.
I love the Bob Dylan outtakes and bootleg series. The latest is from “Time Out of Mind”. I know Dylan doesn’t love the Daniel Lanois production on this album, but I think it’s fantastic – so much atmosphere and a great sound overall.
I enjoyed this cover of the classic John Lennon song:
I listened to my friend Matt on Houston public radio on Saturday afternoon. That was followed by a progressive rock show, and I discovered a number of overdone, bombastic prog songs:
Coexist peacefully, with kindness and patience for all!
“The building of 1696 was small and the unpretentious spire remaining today was then in the centre of the place. The only other part of that church still standing is the Corsehill Aisle. The Lainshaw Aisle is built in line with the Corsehill one and may not be of much later date. In 1772 the roof was removed and the walls heightened. The minister of that time wrote: – “it is now well seated and holds a great number.” This minister may have been well pleased with his renovated Kirk, but his feelings were ruffled over the conditions of the manse. It had been built in 1642, fifty years before the church. The minister stated that, although it had some small repairs at different times, it was still in a “very bad condition.” That can be easily understood because the manses of those far-off days were usually small and thatched-roofed with not much more accommodation than the traditional but-and-ben.”
There had been a lot of concern about how many people would arrive at the Fenwick. It’s so hard to predict with weather and other plans. Apparently my sister and Mum guessed perfectly – we had seven tables of ten, and that was exactly what we needed. The funeral tea was very nice – I got to talk to Mrs. Dunlop, Dr. Bob Dunlop, Cousin Jean, Wee Jean, The Barclays (May and Les), Robin and Julie, Lorna and Russell (what a wonderful set of couples), George and Audrey, Caroline and Jim, Christopher, and several others. My Mum and Dad have so many lovely friends.
We left for Glasgow airport early on Wednesday morning. Our flight to Heathrow was delayed by about 45 minutes, but we still had plenty of time to make the Dallas flight. On arrival we were delighted (sarcasm again) to find that there was no jet bridge and we had to descend the stairs with suitcases and ride a bus to Terminal 5. After wandering through the terminal for about 20 minutes, we made our way to the bus to Terminal 3. Another 20 minutes or so and we were relaxing in the British Airways First Class Lounge – one of the advantages of flying so much on American Airlines. Diana enjoyed the Champagne Lounge for 20 minutes and then it was time to head for our Dallas flight.
My book this week was “Britt-Marie Was Here” by Frederick Backman. I bought this at the Book Nook in Stewarton and have thoroughly enjoyed the humour and care of this story. Here’s the online summary:
I borrowed my book this week from Mum’s library. I’m a bit over half way through “A Place Called Freedom” by Ken Follett. Here’s the online summary:
The report out was that some things were better (brisket), while others were not as good (okra). The “Texas Twinkies” – jalapenos wrapped in bacon and other stuff and deep fried, were a big hit.
Things got off to a strong start with the complimentary appetizers – focaccia bread, ricotta cheese, meats and pickled veggies.
As if we hadn’t eaten enough, we took the kids to C.T. Provisions in downtown McKinney for Sunday brunch. Our favourite here has been the voodoo Benedict – shrimp and crawfish in a delicious voodoo sauce and poached eggs atop excellent blue corn grit cakes. Apparently the chef changed recently, and while still good, this wasn’t as good as we remembered.
My book this week was “Night Music” by Jojo Moyes. Mum had recommended this author recently and I was browsing around for a paperback to take on my trip, this one caught my eye.
Diana arrived home from San Francisco on Valentine’s evening. I had some pretty flowers waiting and we exchanged cards.
Last Monday, our old friend Randy Clapp came to town for work. He moved from Denver to Toronto several years ago, and we calculated that it had been 9 years since we last saw him and Janice. We enjoyed a fun dinner at Pappadeaux’s, catching up on families and reliving old laughs.
My first book was “Siracusa” by Delia Ephron. Here’s the online summary:
My next book was “The Thursday Murder Club” by Richard Osman, a host of British quiz shows. This was equally as entertaining as “Siracusa” and even funnier. The characters who meet to solve murders on Thursday night at the old folks development are hilarious. Here’s the online summary:
My Dad, Ian Morrison Robertson, died on February 17, 2023. He was 86 years old.
