Countdown to the Read-a-thon (not an A to Z post)

Saturday 26th of April will bring us to the biannual Dewey's Read-a-Thon, starting on this blog some time after 1pm (or whenever I manage to get home from work) and continuing until 1pm on Sunday 27th. There is still time to sign up and join in, or just join in without signing up, I don't think it matters, it's the reading that's important. Monkey and I have this nice pile of books to choose from, or any other random books that come our way in the intervening days (though I am nearly up to my borrow limit at the library). I am really looking forward to 'The Martian' by Andy Weir that I read about just the other day and ordered specially. 'The Hobbit' Monkey and I have been reading on and off for a couple of years and hope to get through a couple more pages, and the Caitlin Moran 'How to be a woman' I bought for Tish for Christmas and is there for a bit of light relief. 

This year we will be hosting a 'mini challenge' at the unearthly hour of 7am (or some time in the middle of the night if you are visiting from across the pond), so please do drop by and participate (there will be an announcement on the official site) - no spoilers yet, you will have to wait and see, but there will be a prize! 
The only thing left to do is bake the cake ... it's not a proper read-a-thon without cake.

S is for Shallow

She slipped off her sandals and carried them across the last stretch of damp sand down to the edge of the water. The tide appeared to be neither coming nor going; sunlight sparkled on the surface and the tiniest of wavelets lapped over her toes, chilling them deliciously. The clear water at her feet faded gradually to a deep turquoise that merged with the sky at some almost imperceptible point on the horizon. Tendrils of seaweed washed gently to and fro in the current. She stepped out until the water covered her feet, the salt prickling her skin. There was no need to go any deeper, even ankle deep it was still the ocean.

(Words for my flash fiction A to Z supplied spontaneously by Monkey.)

(Linking back to the A to Z challenge)

R is for Rambunctious

"I can see the sea," Annie squealed. "Lets go faster."

Danny ran behind, down the last slope towards the promenade and then along the sea front. Annie's long hair flew back wildly, pulled loose from her scarf and tossed to and fro in the buffeting wind. A dozen seagulls swooped and called overhead, diving from their perches on the lampposts and circling round to alight on the railing. 

"Whoopee," she called back to him, waving her hands high in the air, her skirt flapping and ballooning around her knees. 

They reached the concrete ramp that led down on to the beach and raced to the bottom. And there they stopped, the wheels jammed firmly in the damp sand. 

Annie's cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone. 

"Sorry, Grandma, I can't push you any closer," said Danny.

"That's ok lovey, we'll just watch the waves from here."

(Words for my flash fiction A to Z supplied spontaneously by Monkey.)

(Linking back to the A to Z challenge)

Q is for Quintuplets

"Five!"
"Yes, five."
"Are you sure?"
The technician turned the monitor so she could see the screen and showed her the tangle of limbs and bodies.
She lay back and closed her eyes for a moment. With a deep sigh she straightened her clothes and climbed down from the bed. Gathering her coat she nodded her thanks and made her way back down the corridor to the waiting room.
"Time to go kids. Tommy, Danny, will you get off that wheelchair, it's not a toy. Gemma, Barney, Suzie, will you put the little ones back in the pushchair. Has the baby been asleep all this time, well that's a miracle? Adam, darling, you have to leave the truck behind for other children to play with. Yes, Penny, your picture is lovely but you'll have to finish it in the car. No Samuel I haven't got a drink. What do you mean Jamie went to look for the cafe? I told you all the wait here. Henry, give your brother back his teddy this instant. Chloe will you get your nose out of that magazine and be a bit more helpful. I'm sorry Ben, I know I promised but I really need to get home. We need to give daddy the good news."

(Words for my flash fiction A to Z supplied today by Tish.)

(Linking back to the A to Z challenge)

P is for Philander (this is an A to Z post)

He offered to walk back with her from the beach. The party was still in full swing behind them but once they rounded the corner of the path and were surrounded by trees, the lights and music and chatter faded. She felt awkward, alone with this man she had only just met. He had flirted with her all evening and surrounded by others it had felt innocent and harmless, but now it made her self-conscious. She kept up a lively stream of talk about her plans for the rest of the holiday, all the while feeling aware of his gaze. She stopped at her cabin and smiled politely, starting to say goodnight. His fingertips reached up and stroked her arm very lightly and he took a step towards her. Suddenly a small creature dropped from the tree beside them landing on his shoulder, and scuttled away into the undergrowth. He shrieked and jumped away.
"What the hell was that?"
"Just a possum," she laughed, going inside and closing the door.

(Alternative meaning of Philander)
(Words for my flash fiction A to Z supplied spontaneously by Monkey.)

(Linking back to the A to Z challenge)

Two sides to every story (also not an A to Z post)

Julie took me out for lunch and bought me a couple of books at the Oxfam bookshop for my birthday and 'Sweetness' by Torgny Lindgren was one of them.  I took it to work yesterday as I was doing an afternoon shift just dealing with returned packets, supervising the collections and locking up, so there was a bit of 'down' time. It is a brief 138 pages so I woke up this morning and finished it. It was an interesting contrast to 'The Luminaries' with its vast cast and complex interactions; 'Sweetness' has just Hadar and Olof, brothers, and an unnamed woman visitor. Hadar is dying of cancer, Olof is dying from heart disease, and each is determined to outlive the other. Their animosity seems to be rooted deep in their childhood and it has been the thing that sustained them through the years of their lives. 

When she finds herself briefly trapped by a snowfall the woman becomes a go between, caring for both brothers and gradually learning their story. On the first morning when she sees the smoke from Olof's cottage Hadar announces:

" 'My brother. Olof. If it weren't for him, I'd have been dead long ago.'
She glanced round at him quickly. What did he look like when he actually uttered a few words that on the face of it were full of warmth.
'I'm not going to make the bastard happy by dying before him,' he went on. 'That's what keeps me alive, and I'll never let him get the upper hand.'
There was quite a lot of smoke pouring out of the chimney down there, black smoke rising defiantly against the blinding snow." (p.15)

and this sets the tone for the entire book. They are the proverbial chalk and cheese; Hadar wasting away with his cancer and Olof grown grossly huge after a lifetime of consuming only sugar. They both look out of their windows at the other's cottage and wait for the smoke to cease. 

The whole book is beautifully written, spare and full of very black humour. The woman does not try to draw them out, she remains to a certain extend quite removed, her mind often occupied with thoughts about her own writing and her frequently repeated intention to leave soon. It is almost her indifference that makes them more forthcoming. They have lived inside their hatred for so long they both just assume she will take their part, but equally do not seem to resent her attentions to the other. It is a case of mutual hostility become the closest of interdependence. She does not appear to become fond of them, it is more a curious fascination that keeps her there. And I found myself more curious about her because we learn nothing much about her. 
There is not much in the way of lyrical descriptions of the environment or the snow or the coming spring, just the routines of survival, lighting the fire, eating, sleeping. In fact in places it is ... there must be a word for the opposite of lyrical, but I'm not sure what. I will avoid the description of pus extraction and give you this instead:

"But, when the day came, he would sit in the sauna that he had build with the wood dismantled from Olof's house and sweat out all the uncleanness and all the odours - that was the only natural and fitting way for a man, a man was made to sweat and as long as a man was doing heavy work and sweating he never needed to wash. If the sweat of his own life had been collected in a hollow in the ground, it would have made a sizeable lake - no, not a lake, a marsh, a muddy tarn, a bottomless quagmire. Because men's sweat, he would have her know, was not thin and watery; no - it was like gruel or limewash, it was strong and rich in ingredients; it did not run freely and easily but had to be squeezed out through the pores like mushy peas through a strainer." (p.48)

They settle into a routine together, occasionally she tries to instigate some kind of contact between them but they resist her. At other times she tells each of them what she knows they want to hear and allows them to play out their own version of events. The reader realises after a while that she won't leave before the end:

"She saw the snowplough drive past, but showed no sign of agitation. Having fetched the newspaper from the box at the roadside she sat down at the table to read it. When Hadar saw what she was doing, he said, 'No, we shouldn't read the paper, we should steer clear of disasters and distress. We should live as quiet a life as lichen. We can use the paper to light the stove.'" (p.54)

Monkey socks for Fibre Arts Friday (not an A to Z post)

After finishing the Monkey jumper a few weeks ago I used some of the remaining yarn to knit Monkey a pair of socks to match. They were done to the Violet Green Waving Not Drowning pattern, not that I had a copy but it is one of Julie's favourites (and she's having a sock knitting year) so she simply told me the four row pattern repeat, it's so simple but looks very effective. I thought I had made them long enough to come over the top of her DM's but never mind. And here she is wearing them *on the wrong feet* :-) I recently discovered a pattern for a bow tie online and so she has been doing some sewing (don't ask me to explain, she just wanted a bow tie ok) and now has quite an extensive collection; this one goes quite nicely with the jumper I thought.

Joining in again with Fibre Arts Friday, pop over and admire some other creations.