the big list #read4saca

It’s been a summer of rain, gadding about, enjoying a new caravan at the seaside, & recruiting staff for the charity. (Big step, big excitement. Why yes, that does add to my anxiety.)

And reading. I’m usually reading. It keeps me sane and distracts me from the world. I’m less happy when the brain fog won’t let me read, This year I decided to put my habit to some use. My friends at SACA, a charity supporting people living with the rare conditions syringomyelia or Chiari syndrome, were asking people to participate in a marathon, no sweating required. Read 26 books in 12 weeks and either gather sponsorship or make a donation. In fairness, I couldn’t ask anyone to sponsor me for something I love to do, that sustains me, so I made a donation when I got to September.

Then, M, more organised than I, asked if I’d share my list. A list. Why hadn’t I made a list? Luckily, I’d done a lot of the reading on Kindle, and could count back. There were paperbacks left in holiday houses or airports that I can’t remember. Those I recall got added, and I made it to 26. I completed a marathon! The runners among you may stop laughing…

In no particular or predictable order

Skintown by Ciaran McMenamin

Eleanor Olyphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman

Swing Time by Zadie Smith

Last Rituals by Yrsa Sigurdardottir

The Other Us by Fiona Harper

Frozen Moment by Camilla Ceder

Heaven Field by LJ Ross

Rather be the devil by Ian Rankin

Miller’s Valley by Anna Quindlen

I See You by Clare MacIntosh

Falling & The Beach House by Jane Green

Paper hearts and Summer Kisses by Carole Matthews

Dead Men’s Bones & Written in Bones by James Oswald

The Janus Stone & The Crossing Places & The House at Sea’s End & The Chalk Pit by Elly Griffiths

Summer at Bluebell Bank by Jen Mouat

The Gingerbread House by Kate Beaufoy

The Girls by Emma Cline

How to Stop Time by Matt Haig

Meet me at Beachcomber Bay by Jill Mansell

The Pact by Catriona King

Truly, Madly Guilty by  Liane Moriarty

The Other Mrs Walker by Mary Paulson Ellis

HellFire by Mia Gallagher

Some of these were happy finds as I browsed in bookshops, some were long awaited, some simply cheap. I discovered new-to-me writers and revisted the familiar. There’s gritty crime, fluffy fun romance, and heartbreaking drama. I actively disliked only 2, and one of those was a bookclub choice.

What have you been reading lately? Any recommendations?

 

If you’re motivated to read, sponsor or donate, the #read4saca challenge is accepting donations until the end of September. They’d love to hear from you.

 

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Why bother?

Now, there’s a dangerous question, & one that’s been in my head a lot recently.

I want to be useful, doing things, making a difference. I need to rest, recover, not get involved. Sometimes I balance competing demands. Sometimes I run out of steam & interest. Sometimes I want it all to stop.

I’ve spent years trying to be heard and in the process have become a usual suspect. I’m on a list somewhere, invited along to things, my opinion apparently sought. Of course I’m flattered, but sceptical. I can’t keep track of all the agendas in the room. I’m not being paid to be there- is it a good use of my limited energy, or a fig leaf for someone who has a boss?

I can read books and walk on beaches and ignore the world. That feels good for a while. Then I have to get back to doing the things I’ve had to fight to be able to do.

And I wonder if that’s the right thing for me.

 

Thanks to David Gilbert for the post that prompted ‘why bother’ https://futurepatientblog.com/2017/05/14/lets-talk-about-death-breaking-the-taboos-that-surround-suicide/

 

used to be

I used to be a teacher, a rower, a daughter. I used to be employed, and healthy. I used to be a blogger.

Now, I’m not quite sure.

I’m busy and motivated and exhausted. I’m a volunteer and a dance mom and an occasional blog reader. I still have ME, I juggle all the things, and I sleep.

It used to be that I’d go for a walk and tell you about it; taking pictures in the museum and sharing my random thoughts on creativity or elephants or the chap who sounds just like Sir Humphrey.

You’d see my new purple nail varnish, or a tidy room, or the silly thing that made me laugh while my family rolled their eyes in despair.

Then I shared less music and more ranting. I’ve bored myself with the ranting.

Brexit leading to threats of war, Trump, NI politics, the Irish police– all of these are beyond parody. Unbelievable behaviour from those who simply don’t care about the rest of us. We appear to be beyond all norms of acceptable behaviour and nobody is being held to account. I don’t know what happened or what to do about it. (Social media is probably not the solution.)

I’ve felt defeated, and pictures of pretty things haven’t helped. I’ve been missing my wee mate Jake- always one to distract me from too much introspection when we were home alone. I’ve taken on extra responsibility with our charity, but nobody wants to read that sort of detail.

Alternatively, I’ve had loads of new experiences, I’ve joined a political party (in an attempt to divert the ranting into something constructive), I’ve got access to spontaneity via a new to me car, and it’s spring. The world is coming back to life, maybe I should, too.

 

 

I used to be in a bit of a rut. Bear with me as I work my way out.