Tri-ing To Read, Here.

Ok. This is another book review post, but I felt as though I’ve been neglecting telling you about my workouts as of late, so I’m going to do a quick re-cap with where I’ve been in this arena recently. Right now I’m taking it a bit easy, mostly playing with my kids, and chasing them around the park. I’m working back into a walking program to rest areas requiring healing. I do, however, have a long-term goal.

It’s a sprint-distance tri. 15k bicycle, 3.1 mi run (5K) and a 1/2 mile open-water swim. I am good-to-go with the swimming and the running. I could hit those distances half-asleep while doing a keg stand. (Though that is highly ill-advised.) It’s that third bit. That bit on the two wheels.  Jesus, Mary, and all of the Saints, I’m terrified.  (Is it Saints or saints? Any hagiographers read my blog?) I don’t have a fear of riding, so much as a total-and-utter fear of crashing and dying. I’m a New Yorker. Do you have any idea how many white-painted bicycles dot street corners to memorialize the death of a bicyclist? MORE THAN A FEW.  The crazy thing is that I am friends with MANY triathletes. I am friends with honest-to-gods IRONMEN/WOMEN. My sibling equivalent does a century ride every year to raise $$ for MS. The man? Bicycles were his PRIMARY-FORM of transport all through his teens, and most of his twenties. Here is my history with bicyles. In bullet-points.

• I learn to ride between ages 7-9
• It was a yellow bicycle with a banana seat
• my sister spray-painted my bicycle red
• the banana seat remained
• I wore no helmet, ever.
• I fell off said bicycle coming down the hill near my house. It hurt.
• I fell into a ditch near my house. This too, was painful
• I got a new 10-speed huffy when I was tenish.
• It was pink
• I fell off of the Huffy in the woods behind my brother’s friend’s house. It hurt.
• There was no poison ivy, but there was a raspberry bush.
• It was like falling into the vagina dentata of thorny bushes–bloody and full of teeth
• My desire to ride upon two wheels was castrated.
• I no longer had biking balls.

My siblings routinely made fun of my bicycling abilities, though their own injuries made mine look tame in comparison. Namely, my older sister put her teeth through her lip. That had to hurt. But I could not ride without hands, or apparently, without injury. I was strictly a “hands on the bars, ride the brake” rider. Apparently that latter bit is muy malo. I lay the blame for the majority of my injuries on fear and ADHD. A potent combination. I was constantly gripping the brakes, and constantly distracted. You can see how that could go terribly wrong.

So now I’ve been set up by a viking and a highlander to do this tri. I may use training wheels. There’s a possibility of using a Flintstone’s style motorcycle, all wide-stone wheels and foot propulsion. A pink Big Wheels is also under consideration. One thing I can tell you is that I WILL NOT BE CLIPPING IN. I “clip-in” at spin. At spin, if I fall off, I fall onto a mat. I am covered in shame, and perhaps the sweat of the rider next to me, but not blood and viscera.

So it is written, so it shall be.

575 words. Gif break? Gif break.

I like this option.

Onto the sexy. And by sexy, I mean words on pages.

But I was just getting to the good part.

I’ve read several books in the past week that I’ve really liked. None so much as this one:

To be 100% Honest, The first 20-40 pages, I wasn’t truly into it, so I put it down, read The Book of Life (which we know I adored) And then I had a bit of reader’s hangover/ennui. After a few days, I picked up Landline again, and really set-in for a readathon.

Ohallofthefucks was my initial hesitation stupid.  I found myself absorbed in a sea of beautiful prose. I was overcome with a hesitation to continue, lest it end too soon. Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from burning through page after page like a vengeful Savanarola. The story pulled upon every heartstring in my soul’s violin, and wrenched from it a brutal concerto of elation and melancholy.  I once again found myself tweeting passages to a friend who also read the book. I was overwhelmed with the desire to simply “share” in the experience of it.

*tweeted to @JustLeahFelts

So, what’s it about?

From the blurb:

Georgie McCool knows her marriage is in trouble. That it’s been in trouble for a long time. She still loves her husband, Neal, and Neal still loves her, deeply — but that almost seems beside the point now.

Maybe that was always beside the point.

Two days before they’re supposed to visit Neal’s family in Omaha for Christmas, Georgie tells Neal that she can’t go. She’s a TV writer, and something’s come up on her show; she has to stay in Los Angeles. She knows that Neal will be upset with her — Neal is always a little upset with Georgie — but she doesn’t expect to him to pack up the kids and go home without her.

When her husband and the kids leave for the airport, Georgie wonders if she’s finally done it. If she’s ruined everything.

That night, Georgie discovers a way to communicate with Neal in the past. It’s not time travel, not exactly, but she feels like she’s been given an opportunity to fix her marriage before it starts . . .

Is that what she’s supposed to do?

Or would Georgie and Neal be better off if their marriage never happened?

There’s really nothing to add to that without revealing plot points that would decrease one’s pleasure in reading the story.

In Landline, Rainbow Rowell manages to effortlessly blend magical realism into an all-too-real plot with devastatingly real characters. Her world-building and character growth will rightly shut the mouths of any critic wary of reading a book penned by a woman who was previously most-known for her Young Adult novels. (Which are also quite amazing.) One will spend a good portion of the book with their heart in their throat, and tissues against their eyes and nose.

Five.Huge.Stars.

Now? The recipe I promised you on Monday.

Chocolate Almond Spread. AKA non-sketch ingredient vegan Nutella.

Vegan Chocolate Almond Spread

Vegan Chocolate Almond Spread

by Cat Bowen

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Keywords: blender appetizer condiment side snack dessert dairy-free gluten-free kosher paleo soy-free vegan vegetarian

Ingredients

• 1 cup roasted, salted, almonds
• 2 oz of your favorite vegan dark chocolate bar (newman’s or endangered species are my favorite.)
• 1 oz coconut oil, liquid state
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 tbsp cocoa powder
• 1 tbsp coconut milk (full-fat from the can)

Instructions

melt the chocolate bar

combine with remaining ingredients

blend in food pro

if needed, add a bit more melted choc or oil to smooth out.

Bibliophrenia…It’s a thing.

Up is down. Left is right. Richard Marx seemingly has a new album…(It’ll never be another “Should’ve Known Better”…the botox prevents him from moving his mouth properly.)

One thing that hasn’t changed is that I’m still reading an absurd amount of books. I have a crippling fear that I’ll one day have to spend a day without books. It’s irrational, I know. I think it’s ok as long as my books don’t start talking to me through book-mouths and not their words on pages. What would that look like in the DSM? Bibliophrenia? I already have enough DX from the DSM, and I do not need another notch on my crazy-belt. *the other belt with notches will accept one from Michael Fassbender, however.*

I’d like to add that notch for you–with my teeth.

A book I read recently, I felt I needed to simmer with for a little while before I gave my full-review here at B2B. I did pen a quick review at Goodreads, which you can read here.

The book? Neanderthal Marries Human. Book 1.5 of the Knitting in the City series.

Last year, I read and loved this books’ predecessor, Neanderthal Seeks Human, and the other books in the series: Friends Without Benefits and Love Hacked. I have been anxiously awaiting this installment since it was announced. I was positively twitterpated with glee when I read that Penny Reid had released it early.

It’s like going to the gym only to realize that only four other people showed up for bodypump class, and you get your favorite spot and barbell.

Neanderthal Marries Human is everything I’ve come to expect from Penny Reid, and still very surprising. Her books (so far) have been witty and smart sugar-cookies of literature. Yes, they’re essentially contemporary romance novels with happy endings and googly-love eyes, but at the same time, they’re not dumbed down to a specific level of reader. (insert reference to a book with a multiple of five, and non-specific hues of a non-color.) Penny Reid puts out quality books that are enjoyable, accessible, entertaining, and intelligent.

This book was all of those things, but it was also decidedly more demanding of a reader’s introspection. Getting married is a pretty big deal. The protagonist, Janie approaches the situation with her typical level of pragmatism and skeptic world-view, and Quinn is ready to throw caution to the wind.

Throughout the book, both Quinn and Janie are forced to reckon their lives together in the present with what may happen in the future, and what, if any, their pasts say about what will or could happen. They’re backed into their own corners and made to face their own insecurities and decide to press on in spite of them.  The thing is, they DO press-on, and it doesn’t feel contrived or forced, or as if they had some sort of “it only happens in books” epiphany. It’s organic and wonderful.

After you read the book, you feel refreshed and renewed. The subtlety of the “message” of the book, that family is everything–whether it’s the one you’re born with or the one you choose–it matters not which family. It’s about finding your place in that family, and finding that place in yourself, and being okay with that. Both Janie and Quinn grow a lot in this book, and it was great to be able to laugh and empathize with the characters on that level.

All-in-all, Neanderthal Marries Human is an excellent example of a sequel doing exactly what a great sequel should–it highlights growth and revelation while propelling the storyline forward, entertaining and engaging the reader, and setting up possible questions to be answered in any subsequent titles. It was a highly-engrossing and fulfilling  read with surprising depth and wit.

Five stars.

NOW! you need a cocktail. And so does my AWESOME SUPER SPECTACULAR online book club, We Ran, We Read, We Rummed! On Goodreads AND Facebook.

I call this one, “The Compari.” It’s a sweet and tangy citrus drink with a fun color and bubbly zing.

The Compari

by Cat Bowen

Prep Time: 2 minutes

Keywords: beverage

Ingredients (1 drink)

• 1 1/2 oz Curacao
• 1 oz Campari
• 1 tsp superfine sugar
• 1 1/2 oz seltzer
• ice

Instructions

combine ingredients

stir with ice

optional garnish

grapefruit or lemon wheel

colored sugar rim

Let’s Pretend It Isn’t Over…

This post is best introduced with a gif.

Why is that? Because last Tuesday, the final book in my favorite series since Nancy fucking Drew was released.

It was….Well, I thought the waiting would be the hardest part. Two years between releases for someone like me–someone who needs schedules and immediacy like congress needs Viagra–it’s hard. (harder than congress on viagra.)

I thought I’d adequately prepared myself for the end. I was head over heels in love with the first two books, A Discovery of Witches and Shadow of Night, reading each at least three times. In fact, I re-read them just recently in preparation for the final book.

While awaiting The Book of Life, I tried to read other books which people told me were similar in feeling to my beloved series, but they were never right. Reading them was nigh torturous. I suspect it was my due for my lèse majesté.

You think you can just replace me???!!!!

I’m going to try to keep my review spoiler-free, but it’s nearly impossible. I suggest/implore/demand you read this series before this review. Otherwise, scroll down for the food.

Culling together my feelings about this series, and this book specifically, is difficult. I shall endeavor to supply you with adequate words representing the tentacles of memory that this story has gripped and blended across my mind.

The Book of Life: In Paradisum.

If you’ve read my blog any length of time, you realize that my life is a sort of trichotomy of interests and occupation. The Mother, The Artist, and The Academic. I am by no means the only woman with significant scholarship to contain such a trifecta, but until Diana Bishop, the women of academia were as overlooked in fiction as they are in real life. Yes, since the release of DOW, we’ve seen authors like Penny Reid (another female author of notable scholarship) tackle the ins-and-outs of navigating a personal life while maintaining a learning lifestyle; but Deb Harkness was one of the first authors whose works I read that did this with such grace and talent. (Diana Gabaldon being the other.)

*aside: when I first read DOW and found out that Diana was a rower, particularly of sculling, I set upon a peal of giddy laughter that frightened my fellow gym-goers.

In this final installment of the All Souls Trilogy, we pick up right where we left off in the end of Shadow of Night. Everyone is present and accounted for, and the three factions: witches, vampires, and demons are more engulfed in war than ever before. From the start, you can see things are going to come to a very bloody end.

Matthew’s son is stacking a staggering number of bodies, and Diana’s power has jettisoned into the stratosphere. All the while, The Congregation has shown its true colors as the racist, power-hungry body that it is.

This book contains so many twists and turns that it often feels as though you’re being ushered violently through a cyclone of information and emotion. Past mixes with present mixes with future in this beautiful conflation of a story. The romance is somehow both sweeping and understated. The reader aches for Diana and Matthew, but there is so much more going on besides their epic forbidden love affair, that it never becomes unbearable.

There is nary a bit of downtime to be had. One inaugurates the the first chapter with held breath and eager anticipation, and when the book reaches its end; the reader is at once thrilled at such a satisfying ending and esurient for more of the tale to be told.

The strangest thing about the All Souls Trilogy is that, while it’s decidedly paranormal, there is so much truth in the historical and scientific aspects of the storytelling, the magic and wonder become secondary. It reads as a warning against the mostly-apocryphal tales told to us by close-minded predecessors. It also serves to elevate the problems with retaining an antediluvian order or set of statutes. [read: witches can’t marry vampires, and you also cannot go whale hunting on a Sunday in Ohio.]

I haven’t loved a series this much in a very, very long time. It may be because my current scholarship is in Comparative Literature: The Story of the Bedarche People (as passed down through oral folklore, textiles, and petroglyphs.)  And her historical and lit/science heavy writing is fascinating to me, but honestly, I think I fell in love with a strong protagonist who was strong enough to out-maneuver the impossible.

Five HUGE HUGE fucking stars.

Now? The food.

This recipe was inspired not at all by the book. I just wanted something yummy whilst I read.

Moscato and Roasted Plum Frozen Yogurt.

Moscato and Roasted Plum Frozen Yogurt

by Cat Bowen

Prep Time: 20 minutes

Cook Time: freeze overnight

Keywords: saute dessert dairy-free gluten-free paleo vegan vegetarian soy-free nut-free

Ingredients (4-8 servings)

• 1 quart plain greek yogurt (greek coconut yogurt works, greek soy does not.)
• 1 cup moscato
• 4 medium plums, skins ON, diced
• 1/4 cup maple syrup
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 tbsp culinary lavender (optional, but AWESOME. rosehips also good, just use less)
• 1 package knox gelatin (again, optional, but it really does help the fixing process.)

Instructions

combine plums, moscato, vanilla, and maple syrup in a saucepan on medium

bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, reduce liquids by 2/3.

let cool about 50% stir in gelatin

let cool completely

stir together remaining ingredients

freeze overnight or place in an ice cream maker.

serve with a glass of port or moscato or tea.