The Wave by Susan Casey

I should have written my review of The Wave before I researched the author and the book. I would have said that it was one of those books I just wallowed in like a warm comforter on a cold day. I was hypnotized by the topic, impressed by the writing and charmed by the reader (I listened to the audio version). I would also have said that I finished the book feeling rather hopeless, the way that shows on TV about giant meteors make me feel. It may kill us all, but probably not, but you should be scared anyway.  But let’s back up a little.

The Wave is of course about waves – rogue waves, killer waves, tsunamis, just plain ole’ big-ass waves as tall as 5-story buildings - as told from the perspective of scientist, seafarers and surfers. The underlying thread or threat being, global warming may be making waves bigger, or there may have always been huge waves lurking out there, and what difference does it make. Having been raised in the desert, I find the ocean just short of terrifying. Also mom told me that when she was pregnant with me she had a very frightening “boat in a storm” experience, so I’m hard-wired for fear of large bodies of water, which of course meant that I had to read this book. Click on Read More Below...

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 53

#53 – “Add a little milk to bowls of soup right before you serve.  The milk will cool the soup to just the right temperature, and give it a rich flavor and texture.”

This morning, as I often do when I’m trying to decide what to write about, I called my husband on his cell and asked him to give me a number between 52 and 100.  He was in the bedroom; I was in the living room.  “Eighty-seven,” he said, and hung up.  When I saw #87, I smiled.

Back before dairy became the bane of our existence (and ironically just about everyone was thin), whole milk was the standard and served in our home with regularity and in abundance.  In fact, other than water, iced tea and milk were pretty much the only liquids served in our home.    We didn’t have soft drinks, orange juice, alcohol or anything else in a bottle.  I remember with vibrant clarity the first time I saw a pitcher of red Kool Aid at a friend’s home.  I felt as though magic had been performed.  I also felt as though I had been born into the wrong family. Click on Read More Below...