Another view of the studio. All the books shown are my journals. The
big bear has a great story. Quite a few years ago my son, Adam, and I
took the bus to the Bangor Mall and environs to maybe spend a little
Christmas cash. The wind was super strong. We could feel the bus
shake. When we arrived half the stores had lost power. And we were
so cold our first stop was to buy cocoa and hot food. But we found
enough stores to hang out at. Adam was especially fascinated by
electronics and remote control helicoptors. I had seen nothing I
couldn't easily live without. But when we got to the Things
Remembered kiosk the big bear that would have cost well over $100 was
reduced to about $30 including personally engraved heart. Adam said I
should get it because I really wanted it. I had the heart engraved
with "I hope you dance" and the date. Boxed up the bear was so big we
couldn't take it home by bus. We had to call Eugene to pick us up.
Eugene thought it was a foolish waste of money. But I consider it a
wise investment because it calls up memories of a very precious day I
don't want to forget.

The Haunting Of Maddy Clare

The Haunting Of Maddy Clare

Adult mystery
"I looked around me. The fire was gone, I was in the cool,
silent barn again; alone, with mist on the windows. The flames, the
burning beams, all of it had utterly disappeared.
I looked up. The roof was as it had been, rafters intact.
Stupidly, my panicked brain began to slow and calculate. Somehow,
there had never been a fire."
Simone St. James' The Haunting Of Maddy Clare takes readers back
to an England just recovering from the double whammy of world war and
influenza pandemic. Sarah's temp agency has hooked her up with an
unusual job--becoming the new member of a ghost hunting group. They
have a mandate to send a troubled and troublesome earthbound spirit
out of the barn from which she's wreaking havoc. Sarah's presence is
required because Maddy hates men.
Maddy had arrived at the Clare home as a child of about twelve--
filthy, barely clothed, mute, and traumatized. Inquiries into runaway
servant girls yielded nothing. So the Clares had done their best by
her until she hung herself at the age of nineteen.
Maddy's earthly remains were interred in the village cemetery.
But her spirit hung on, terrifying the woman who had taken her in with
random acts of destruction. But she's even more dangerous than the
living realize.
A vengeful ghost with supernatural powers is not the only peril
Sarah faces. Everybody in the small town knows why she's there.
Someone will go to great lengths to keep her from unearthing too many
secrets.
If you're a mystery lover make sure to read The Haunting Of
Maddy Clare--just not home alone on a dark and stormy night.
On a purrrsonal note, Saturday lived down to the meteorologists'
predictions. It rained steady all day. Sunday was sunny but
truckless. I have no idea when we'll again be with truck. But I had
a great weekend--mostly due to the nice stack of library books Emily
dropped off on Friday. :-) (Jules)
It rained and rained and rained and then rained some more. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all from preK to PhD who are going
back to school in person, online, or hybrid and our teachers and
professors who are coping with a new normal that is nothing they could
have envisioned when they made their career plans.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway




Sent from my iPod

That's Tobago checking out the books Emily delivered. I'm sure they
are good ones to share with you, my readers.

How To Be An Antiracist

How To Be An Antiracist

Adult nonfiction
"Denial is the heartbeat of racism, beating across ideologies,
races, and nations. It is beating within us. Many of us who strongly
call out Trump's racist ideas will strongly deny our own. How often
do we become reflexively defensive when someone calls something we've
done or said racist?..."
As Ibram X. Kendi points out in How To Be An Antiracist, quoted
above, the word "racist" has gone from descriptor to insult so
profound recipients can't see beyond deep hurt and indignation. Your
more liberal/progressive friends might ask how, with their good deeds
and woke attitude, they can be racist. President Trump has assured
reporters that he's one of the least racist people they'll ever get to
interview.
So in the 21st century we're all not racists?
Kendi reminds readers that's not possible. Neutrality is not an
option--only racist and antiracist.
"...One endorses either the idea of a racial hierarchy, as a racist,
or racial equality, as an antiracist. One either believes problems
are rooted in groups of people, as a racist, or locates the roots of
problems in power and policies, as an antiracist. One either allows
racial inequities to persevere, as a racist, or confronts racial
inequities, as an antiracist..."
That is only the first concept Kendi introduces readers to.
Each chapter intersectionally covers a facet of racism/antiracism
ranging from power and ethnicity through culture and behavior to class
and sexuality. Within each topic Kendi dilineates some of the
important terms many of us are working to wrap our minds around.
There is, however, nothing dry in Kendi's lexicon. Each
revelation is structured around a candidly shared phase of his life.
This novel format really brings concepts to life and inculcates a
sense of shared humanity. This is one of the reasons I believe that
How To Be An Antiracist is a must read for anyone attempting to do
just that.
The other reason is that Kendi doesn't see racist or antiracist
as set in stone. We can do our best, err, learn from the mistake and
move onward. At the end of his introduction he offers us all this
invitation.
"We know how to be racist. We know how to pretend to be not
racist. Now let's know how to be antiracist."
On a purrrsonal note, well Amber's early Halloween party is postponed
since the meteorologists are confident that Maine will catch the end
of Tropical Storm Laura. Postponed is better than cancelled. Still I
was feeling a little sad this morning. With rain due and the truck at
the shop and my being on my last library book the upcoming weekend
looked a bit dreary. Then Jodi brought over a box of pens, pencils,
and notebooks to add to my supply for the kids. And then Emily
delivered me a nice big stack of fresh library books I'm really
excited about reading. Thanks to these two chums I am OVER THE MOON
and psyched for weekend. (Jules)
That is a big stack of books. Rain will be okay. But please none of
the flashy, boomy stuff. (Tobago).
A great big shout out goes out to those two awesome friends, Jodi and
Emily.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway



Sent from my iPod

One corner of Tobago's and my ready for fall semester studio. White
ghosty thing is a beside the window butterfly chair.

Such A Fun Age

Such A Fun Age

Adult fiction
"'Okay, Ma'am.' The security guard widened his stance to match
hers. 'You are being held and questioned because the safety of a
child is at risk. Please put the child on the ground--'
'Alright, you know what?' Emira's left ankle shook as she
retrieved her cell phone from her tiny purse. 'I'll call her father
and he can come down here. He's an old white guy, so I'm sure
everyone will feel better.'"
Emira is at a friend's birthday party when Alix, the woman she
babysits for, calls with an urgent request. There was an incident at
her home. She wants her older daughter, Briar, out of the house when
the police arrive.
Emira takes Briar to a local upscale grocery store. A White
woman sees a Black woman with a White child and summons the store's
security guard. Pretty soon the guard is framing the situation as a
crime. A guy is filming with his cell phone in case things get ugly.
Emira just wants the night to be over. When the filmer
encourages her to send the video to a tv station she orders him to
destroy it. She's almost 26--about to get kicked off her parents'
insurance. She knows she has to get an adult job with benefits. She
doesn't want anything out there that could make this task any more
difficult.
Alix is lonely. She's just moved from New York City, leaving
her friends and life in the Big Apple. The people she meets seem so
stodgy. Now she decides she has to right the night's wrongs. She
makes attempts to befriend her sitter and make her one of the family.
The video is still out there. It has the potential to seriously
damage, if not destroy, their evolving relationship.
Such A Fun Age combines an engrossing plot with a candid look at
how rapidly racially centered roles, relationships, and norms are
changing. It's very timely, a must read for White people like me who
are doing our best to become truly antiracist.
Speaking of antiracist, that's what the next review will be all
about.
On a purrrsonal note, we're close to the end of the last week before
school starts. It was a good week. The highlight was a social
distanced Goodwill run with my chum, Mazie. The weather has been
lovely and not muggy. But I'm worried about Saturday. They are
saying 100% chance of rain. Which, if it's true, will cancel Amber's
Halloween party which might be my last time to see my kids until
spring (outdoors weather) rolls around again. (Jules)
I do not want a big storm. (Tobago).
A great big shout out goes out to Mazie, Amber, and all the stores
that are requiring masks. Way to protect the public's health!
Tobago and Jules Hathaway


Sent from my iPod

That's my laptop. I guess you can tell I'm a fan of Lisa Frank
stickers. :-)

Lost Among The Living

Lost Among The Living

Adult Mystery
"Mrs. Perry broke in again, her voice grim. 'A man died in the
woods that same day,' she said. 'Some said the girl must have done
it, though he was ripped to pieces, so I don't see how she could have
done such a thing...mad or not.'...They shut up the house after it
happened, and all of them left. But now they're back, and we're to
expect the son."
Simone St. James is the ultimate campfire scary story hostess.
She's chilled us delightfully in a possessed motel and a haunted shut
down girls' school. In Lost Among The Living, quoted above, she leads
us into an old mansion that is possibly haunted by the ghost of a girl
who committed suicide.
The year is 1921. England is recovering from both WWI and the
Spanish Influenza pandemic. Narrator Jo is in limbo. Her husband is
said to have been killed in combat. His crushed plane has been found,
but no body. Despite being bereft, she can't collect a widow's pension.
Jo works as a companion to Dottie Forsythe, her husband's aunt,
an imperious woman who calls her "Manders" (her last name) "as if I
were the upstairs maid," chain smokes, bores and bullies all around
her, and considers averice to be a virtue. They've done a tour of
Europe where Dottie has been taking advantage of others' misfortune,
snapping up works of art at rock bottom prices to resell for much
more. Now they're on their way to the family estate.
There would be a lot of trouble in paradise even without the
supernatural. Dottie and possibly philandering husband, Robert, can't
stand each other. Son Martin has returned from the war very much
changed. Between shell shock (what we now call PTSD) and morphine
addiction caused by a botched surgery he's only a shadow of his former
self, too exhausted and depressed to put up any resistance to his
mom's plan to marry him off to a daughter from a suitable (also rich)
family. Nearly townspeople view the family with dark suspicion and
more than a little hostility.
That's without the supernatural. But with St. James scripting
the story, you know the living will be sharing space with the undead.
Jo sees, hears, and experiences things nobody else experiences. Why
has she been chosen to receive these mysterious, unsettling
communiques from the other side? What is she supposed to be inspired
to do? Will she understand and achieve her mandate in time to prevent
future tragedy?
You'll want to read the book to find out.
On a purrrsonal note, last night I had a real break through in regard
to computers. I was using my laptop correctly in my dream. I
specifically recall clicking on a link my friend Lisa sent me and
working with the information. When a skill enters your dreams it's a
real sign your brain is making it part of your knowledge base and
skill set. About time, huh? (Jules)
I am glad I don't have to zoom with tiny little people. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to UMaine's IT department. In fact we
should start calling them Atlas because they are in very real ways
carrying the university. There's the faculty members needing help to
convert in person classes to online or hybrid, especially where
blackboard has been swapped out for something I think called bright
space, students (like me) needing to upgrade skills to succeed
academically in this pandemic academic new normal, and so many on
campus managers in other departments with divergent and challenging
need to knows. That's a lot of work and pressure.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway


Sent from my iPod

A very special yard sale find for a friend who has a beautiful little
girl! I also got books for my second peak stash which will help me
continue to provide content for this blog.

Ordinairy Light

Ordinairy Light

Adult memoir
"Did we recognize the day it arrived? A day with so much pain,
a day when her patience has dissolved and she wanted nothing but to be
outside of it. Pain. The word itself doesn't hurt enough, doesn't
know how to tell us what it stands for.
Probably very few authors start a memoir with a detailed
description of their mother's death from cancer. Actually I've never
seen this before. But it is a very fitting start to Tracy K. Smith's
Ordinary Light.
Smith's life trajectory was in large part influenced by her
relationship with her mother and the relugion that endowed her mom
with confidence that, no matter what happened on Earth, perfect
salvation was waiting in heaven. Bedtime stories were drawn from
Little Visits With God. In those tales children faced decisions with
clear cut right and wrong answers. Eventually Smith encountered
murkier morality choices and began to desire and taste forbidden
fruit. But through the first decades of her life her thoughts and
decisions were seen through the lenses of relationship and faith.
Race was another influence. Writings by Black authors validated
Smith's thoughts and experiences. Treatment by clueless (or worse)
Whites (such as the girl who always called her "Black Girl") was a
source of hurt. Rare close encounters with geographically distant
relatives were confusing.
As she ended the book, Smith, herself, was a mother. Her own
mom had been dead almost as long as she had been present in her life.
She characterized herself as still searching.
If you want a very candid memoir that is as messy and
intersectional as life itself, you'll want to read Ordinary Light.
On a purrrsonal note, recall how I thought I was going to have an
ordinary weekend. I was very wrong. It was both an awesome and a
scary weekend.
Saturday my little friend, Savannah, and I delivered the backpacks.
The kids and parents were so excited with the packs and their
contents! The parents are very pleased that when the kids run out of
stuff I have germ free school supplies quarantined in my shed. There
was a social distanced outside cookout in the trailor park. Great
food, great company, perfect weather. It made me so happy to see the
kids showing off their backpacks and everyone admiring them! I really
miss the volunteering I usually do.
Sunday Eugene and I took a road trip so far west we almost left the
state. We saw lots of beautiful mountain scenery and a real Amish
horse and buggy. We hit some good yard sales. The scary part was
that the truck started stalling and did a lot on the trip back. We
could have been hit by another vehicle or stranded in the boonies. I
was so happy to get home! (Jules)
I was very happy that my hoomans got home safely. (Tobago)
A great big shout out to the people who are donating school supplies
and Eugene who had the driving skills to get us home safely!
Tobago and Jules Hathaway



Sent from my iPod

Two of my favorite people in the world, my daughter, Amber, and her
husband, Brian.

The Water's Lovely

The Water's Lovely

Adult mystery
"Heather showed no fear, no emotion of any kind. She stood with
her arms hanging by her sides. Her dress was wet, clinging to her
breasts. No one spoke then, neither in the reality, nor in the dream.
Neither of them said a word until their mother fell on her knees and
began crying and laughing and babbling nonsense."
Normally the words "The water's lovely" or great or nice or any
other synonym are uttered under the most benign of circumstances.
You're standing near a body of water or swimming pool, unsure of
whether to enter. An already immersed friend is trying to persuade
you that you won't freeze your tush off. But in Beth Rendell's The
Water's Lovely these usually innocuous words acquire a far more
sinister meaning.
As a teen Ismay had gone school uniform shopping. She and her
mom had returned to find her sister, Heather, in a wet dress and
shoes. Upstairs stepfather, Guy, lay drowned in the bathtub. It was
agreed that when the police arrived Heather would say she had been in
the shopping group. Guy's death was ascribed to natural causes.
Ismay had serious doubts. Guy had been indulging in marginally
inappropriate behavior with her. She had actually welcomed his
advances and wanted him to go much further. But Heather had caught a
glimpse of an incident and seemed very disapproving. She could very
well have killed Guy to protect Ismay.
When we catch up with the girls as adults, Ismay still has her
doubts and nobody to discuss them with. Her mother fell apart after
Guy's death. Now she is an invalid, alternating between radio
listening and Revelations quoting, sometimes not even recognizing her
own daughters. Boyfriend Andrew is self-absorbed, domineering, and
far from faithful.
Ismay feels that she has more reason than ever before to figure
out if her sister is guilty. Heather has attracted Edmund, a very
serious suitor and decent human being. Unknowingly marrying someone
who kills to protect those she loves could land him in a living
nightmare. But if Heather is innocent it would be cruel to steal her
chance for happiness.
Ismay makes a tape of what she knows and suspects in an attempt
to arrive at a conclusion. Then her attention is diverted by a crisis
in her own life.
What if the incriminating tape gets into the wrong hands?
Mystery lovers who like their novels populated by very unique
characters with complex stories will find The Water's Lovely to be a
must read.
On a purrrsonal note, looks like we're starting our weekend. It's
been a good week for me. I received my textbook. Jodi installed zoom
on my laptop. I should be ready for statistics. I just wish it was
not online. I so miss the excitement and comaraderie of being on
campus. Drag shows, work, classes in person, protests, activities,
hanging out. I was able to make up the backpacks for the neighborhood
kids. This will be an at home weekend for me. The first in quite
awhile. Eugene is at the old house today. The weather for tomorrow
looks too unsettled for a drive. But I've got plenty to do here.
(Jules)
I will be up to my usual which, other than having my hooman home to
take care of, is amazingly similar to my prepandemic usual (Tobago).
A great big shout out goes out to the lady who donated the school
supplies for the kids, Jodi who installed zoom, and Emily who
transported my laptop as well as my library books. And Eugene of
course.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway



Sent from my iPod

There it is! My statistics textbook which I am very happy to have.
Every time I study it I will think of how my children have faith in my
abilities and believe that my education is important.

The Shining Girls

The Shining Girls

Adult mystery
"Everything happens for a reason. It's because he is forced to
leave that he finds the house. It's because he took the coat that he
has the key."
It's 1931. Harper, antagonist of Lauren Beukes' The Shining
Girls, is down on his luck. After killing a man over a card game he's
on the run from vigilantees. After a narrow escape he's injured and
without shelter.
Only there's a key in the pocket of his stolen coat, the key to
a very unique house. On the outside it looks like any other derelict
condemned building. On the inside it's anything but.
The house enables Harper to fulfill a mandate it has given him--
to kill a list of girls in different decades who are shining, bright
with potential. For awhile he succeeds, taking out his prey and
making a clean getaway to another time. Then one of his victims,
Kirby, saved by her dog, suffers horendous wounds, realizes that her
attacker is a serial killer, and sets out to bring him to justice.
Who will prevail?
You'll want to read the book to find out.
On a purrrsonal note, I am super excited! Yesterday in the mail I got
my statistics textbook which my kids got for my birthday present.
They not only saved me the money I would have spent on it. They also
saved me the 5 to 6 miles each way walk to the bookstore.
Thanks to our mail delivery system which we'd better not be taking for
granted. The current White House occupant is trying to destroy it.
Just think of all the people relying on it for
*prescription medicines
*checks and benefits
*and other stuff including textbooks
*not to mention being able to vote absentee in the most crucial
election in our lifetimes when polling places might not be safe. Then
sign petitions, call congresspeople, talk to friends and family, and
demonstrate. If you can contribute financially to organizations
working to save this fine institution which we're really need if
there's a second spike. (Jules)
The black and red bugs have arrived. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to my kids who got me the purrrfect
birthday gift, the fine folks who sort and deliver our mail, and the
groups fighting to save the post office.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway


Sent from my iPod

This is what went into each backpack. Notice even a little
calculator. The kids (and parents) will be so happy! Now I'm
collecting stuff for if the kids run out of stuff like lined paper
when the stores are shut or not safe if we get a second spike. I have
a nice two drawer filing cabinet in my shed. In a pandemic you have
to think ahead.

Here is a nostalgia picture: me with my poster at the showcase at
UMaine in December 2019. Holy cow! Only eight months ago! It feels
like the ancient past. Life is so different. I was getting lots of
questions and enthusiasm so I was over the moon. The dress is my
favorite professional one. It's covered with unicorns.

What She Knew

What She Knew

Adult mystery
"A year ago, just after Ben's disappearance, I was involved in a
press conference, which was televised. My role was to appeal for help
in finding him. The police gave me a script to read. I assumed
people watching would automatically understand who I was, that they
would see I was a mother whose child was missing, and who cared about
nothing apart from getting him back.
Many of the people who watched, the most vocal of them, thought
the opposite."
It's a parent's worst nightmare. Rachel had been walking with
her eight-year-old son, Ben, and their dog, Skittle, on a beautiful
fall day. Ben had wanted to use a nearby rope swing. He asked if he
could run ahead. After hedging a bit Rachel said yes. When she got to
the swing Ben and Skittle were nowhere to be seen.
My Adam was the same age when he disappeared. The kids and I
had taken an overnight charter bus to Washington DC to participate in
a peace march. Adam was in fine form. He'd discovered a jar of coins
and used them as a prop when he told a Washington Post reporter that
the president was spending too much on the war. One moment he was at
my elbow...
...the next moment he wasn't. The girls hadn't seen him leave.
Lucky for us, our fellow marchers were able to put off demonstrating
to look for a lost child. He was located right after I used the mic
to describe him. When I announced that he had been located and
thanked people for looking for him the crowd erupted in cheers.
According to the Post, he drew more applause than the featured speaker.
Rachel was not as lucky. When she called Ben and Skittle
neither appeared. She encountered a lot of people back at the parking
lot. Search units were organized. The police were called in. An
injured Skittle was found. But when Rachel went home there had not
been a sign of Ben.
As if going through endless days not knowing if her beloved only
child is even alive is not torture enough, Rachel is subjected to
further cruelty. The Internet is full of people who have determined
her to be an unfit mother.
And their violence goes offline, right to her own home.
Told in alternating voices by the main characters, What She Knew
is a roller coaster ride from introduction to final page. A must read
for mystery fans, it is also a cautionary tale concerning the misuses
of our electronic wild wild west.
On a purrrsonal note, I have an end of summer project--collecting
school supplies for the kids in my trailer park. Yesterday I got the
first delivery. A woman from my church filled my glider with bags and
boxes of binders, notebooks, lined paper, pens, pencils, scissors,
glue sticks, pencil cases, crayons, colored pencils... Today I get to
fill backpacks. Then I get to deliver. The kids are excited. (Jules)
That is a lot of stuff. I like the kids. They visit me at my best
window. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to our amazing supplies donor.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway



Sent from my iPod

This is the road camp is located on. As you can probably imagine,
social distancing there is quite easy.

The Night Sister

The Night Sister

Adult mystery
"When death comes knocking at your door
you'll think you've seen his face before.
When he comes creeping up the stairs
you'll know him from your dark nightmares.
If you hold up a mirror, you shall see
that he is you and you are he."
That's not exactly the rhyme most women teach their children and
grandchildren. But then again the clan portrayed in Jennifer
McMahon's The Night Sister is not an ordinary family. And the Tower
Hotel, the setting, is not your run of the mill hospitality
establishment.
In 2013 two sisters, Piper and Margot, receive horrifying news.
A close friend, Amy, has killed herself and her family. Only her
young daughter has escaped. Their house, the part of the now defunct
hotel property where the original owners resided, the only part not
rapidly decaying, is awash in blood and gore. A clue left behind is a
photograph with a scrawled message, 29 rooms, that has meaning for the
sisters.
The novel zigzags between the present and two points in the past.
In 1989 the sisters were Amy's chums. Although their mother did
not approve of this friendship or see the hotel as safe, Piper and
Margot spent all their free time with Amy and her grandmother,
Charlotte. Ostensibly their days were filled with activities like
roller skating in the empty swimming pool. But covertly they were
seeking answers to a mystery and a haunting. A gruesome discovery
broke up their friendship forever.
In 1955 Amy's mother, Rose, and her sister, Sylvie, were kids.
Charlotte and her husband had opened up the hotel which was thriving.
The sisters entertained guests with their famous Chicken Circus.
Sylvie dreamt of Hollywood stardom. But Rose harbored deep suspicions
that Sylvie was not the innocent self she presented to the world.
Read this spine chilling book unless you really need to believe
that there's no such thing as monsters.
On a purrrsonal note, I escaped the school related stress in my life
by going to camp for the weekend with Eugene. It was really pleasant,
much less humid than the last time. The mosquitos were socially
distancing. He made supper--one of camp's big attractions.
We got batteries for my yard sale meowing clock which does just that
and keeps good time. What a find! (Jules)
My hoomans are back! Oh, joy! (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway





Sent from my iPod

To round out National Mask Week here is my advanced EMT son showing
how to wear this crucial protective device. Don't forget to spread
the word to family, friends, and acquaintances. Remember we're all in
this together.
Have a good and safe weekend!

The Broken Girls

The Broken Girls

Adult mystery
Recall how recently Simone St. James introduced us to a motel
that made the setting of Psycho look like a day care center in
contrast? I decided to track down her earlier work. Am I ever glad I
did! Her The Broken Girls draws readers into every boarding school
horror story come to life.
Idlewild Hall was built in Vermont in 1919. By the 50s it was a
dumping ground for girls whose families either didn't want them or
know what to do with them. A girl disappeared. Nobody on the staff
seemed to care what happened to her.
In 1979 the school was shut down and began to decay--physically,
that is. Its dark secrets had a life of their own.
In 2014 Fiona, a free lance journalist, is obsessed with
Idlewild. In the 90s her sister was killed, presumably by her then
boyfriend. Her body was dumped on the school's then going to seed
playing field. When Fiona learns that the property has been purchased
by someone who plans to renovate and reopen it she decides to do a
magazine story on its history. As she interviews the son of the new
owner work comes to a screeching halt. A long dead human body has
been found in an unused well.
And then there's the ghost, Mary Hand, who is still making
appearances in the 21st century--even though she passed before the
school opened its doors. Who is she? What does she want?
If you want a spine chilling story in which the malevolent
setting is as much of a character as the humans who inhabit it, you
can't do better than The Broken Girls.
I will continue to track down St. James' novels. I've requested
two from Bangor Public Library.
On a purrrsonal note, well, here we are at the weekend. I'll probably
go to camp with Eugene. I hope you have something good planned.
I'm getting ready for my fall semester class which will be statistics
online. I have to admit being nervous. I'm not exactly confident on
either topic of means of learning.
The bad news: I have to reinstall zoom. I've been communicating with
IT and getting nowhere fast. But my ex manager says she can install
if I can get the laptop to her. I will if I have to walk both ways.
The good news. My kids are giving me my really pricey textbook for my
birthday gift. That saves me not only money but walking to campus and
back which is five or six miles each way. Every time I use it I will
be reminded that they believe in me and consider my education
important. (Jules)
I am glad I don't have to do anything with zoom or study statistics.
Whatever that is. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to my kids and the people who will help
me resolve this zoom challenge.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway


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My daughter, Katie, commissioned this painting of precious Joey for my
last year's birthday gift. It is in the place of honor in my studio.
His memory inspires me to always try to be the best person I can.

After Anna

After Anna

Adult mystery
"Noah wished he could run time backwards, undo every decision
until this moment. He'd made so many mistakes. His life had exploded
like a strip of firecrackers at a barbeque, igniting the patio
furniture and spreading to the house until everything was blazing out
of control, engulfed in a massive fireball.
His entire world destroyed.
It had all started with Anna."
Noah had a wonderful life. After losing his first wife to
cancer, he was happily married to Maggie. She was a real mother to
his son, Caleb.
There was only one sadness: Anna, Maggie's daughter by a
previous marriage. When Maggie had been hospitalized for postpartum
psychosis after Anna's birth ex husband Florian had had her declared
unfit as a parent. She constantly yearns for the child she hasn't
seen in sixteen years.
Then all that changes. Florian dies in a plane crash. Anna
asks if she can leave the boarding school where she feels like a
misfit and come live with Maggie. For Maggie this is a dream come
true...
...for Noah, not so much. He makes every effort to welcome Anna
into the family. But while Maggie and Anna bond seemingly
effortlessly, he can never do the right thing. Anna seems to think he
doesn't want her there. But she also insinuates that he wants her in
an entirely inappropriate way.
When she turns up dead he's the prime suspect.
After Anna is a terse and chilling court drama that continues to
deliver plot twists even after the jury delivers its verdict. It's
Lisa Scottoline at her best.
Mystery lovers, you are in for a treat.
On a purrrsonal note, yesterday was a challenging day for me. It was
the first anniversary of the day I saw Joey cat take his last breath
and Eugene and I buried him, the day I had to start to adjust to life
without my best little friend for the first time in sixteen years.
Under nonpandemic situations I would have working or at least on
campus with friends. Sheltering at home, although the most
responsible thing to do, was not where I wanted to be. You know?
A great big shout out goes out to Joey who filled sixteen years of my
life with unconditional love and loyalty and lives on in my heart.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway



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This is me wearing a mask. I sure hope you do too when you're out and
about around other people, especially in enclosed spaces. We're all
in this together!

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

YA memoir
"The white kids were going to have a chance to become Galileos
and Madame Curies and Edisons and Gauguins, and our boys (the girls
weren't even in on it) would try to be Jesse Owenses and Joe Louises.
Owens and the Brown Bomber were great heroes in our world, but
what school official in the whitegoddom of Little Rock had the right
to decide that these two men must be our only heroes?..."
The above quote comes from Maya Angelou's memoir of her early
years, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. Maya was graduating from
elementary school. The families and community took great pride in
those graduates and the teens leaving high school. Elaborate
preparations were made. Parents purchased or made special outfits.
She hoped she would never forget the special morning of the event.
There was a white speaker at graduation. He raved about all the
improvements in store for the white high school. A well-known artist
would teach classes. They were getting state of the art chemistry
equipment and miscrscopes. Nothing like that was in store for their
high school. But they sure produced fine athletes!
That is far from the only racist incident in the book. Have you
ever had a blindingly painful toothache? Maya did. Bad teeth were
pulled at home. But there was not enough enamel to tie a string to.
The nearest Black dentist was 25 miles (by bus) away. Maya's
grandmother (whom Maya and her brother, Bailey, lived with) owned a
store. During the Depression she'd made loans to Blacks and Whites
including the town's dentist. But when they got to his office, he
refused to even look at Maya.
Between racism, childhood rape, and family dysfunction Maya had
quite tempestuous early years. Despite that she was able to rise to
greatness. This very candid memoir of the first part of her life is
well worth reading.
On a purrrsonal note, I was really excited to learn that this is world
mask week. Those of us who are mask wearers are encouraged to post
masked pictures of ourselves on all our social media and encourage
others to do the same. I hope you will participate. You'll get to
see a picture of me on this blog (Jules)
I am glad cats don't have to wear those things. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all who shelter in place, work from
home, mask, and social distance and all the essential workers we never
protect enough.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway


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The famous meowing clock. It will occupy the place of honor in the
studio--right next to the oil painting of Joey cat.

Not Without Laughter

Not Without Laughter
Adult fiction
"He understood then why many old Negroes said: 'Take all this
world and give me Jesus.' It was because they couldn't get this world
anyway--it belonged to the white folks. They alone had the power to
give or withhold at their back doors...and no door at all for Negroes
if they chose to go into Wright's Hotel or the New Albert restaurant..."
You probably know of Langston Hughes' poetry. What's less well
known is that he also wrote novels. His first novel, Not Without
Laughter, came out in 1930. It's the coming-of-age story of Sandy,
the grandchild in a three generation household.
Hager, the grandmother, was born into slavery. She earns a
living doing white folks' laundry, an arduous process from drawing
well water through washboard scrubbing to ironing. She feels that
People of Color will be able to rise through education, hard work, and
respectability. (In contrast to a close friend whose community was
burned to the ground by whites angered by People of Color having stuff
like painted houses and productive land and considers that route to be
futile).
Middle child, Anjee, Sandy's mother, cleans and cooks for a very
mean white woman. Most of the time she misses her roving husband,
Jimboy, who spends very little time at home and has trouble holding
down jobs. (Hager believes she'd be better off without him.)
Younger daughter, Harriett, really worries Hager. She drops out
of school. She hangs out with a fast crown in the Bottoms. She
disobeys. Although they fight often, there is a lot of love between
Hager and Harriett.
Ironically, Hager is most alienated from Tempy, the daughter who
finished high school, got a respectable job, and married "well", the
only one who actually followed her advice. Tempy lives in an upper
class black neighborhood, very rarely visits, and only associates with
the "right" people. She's even ditched the Baptist church to become an
Episcopalian.
Sandy experiences plenty of racism. In one really heartbreaking
episode a new amusement park advertises a day when all children will
get in free. The Black children dress in their Sunday best, only to
learn that it's White kids only.
Don't let the fact that the book was written 90 years ago put
you off. It has aged better than most of its vintage with a
protagonist it's impossible not to care about.
On a purrrsonal note, I hope you had a great weekend. I surely did.
The highlight was Sunday. Eugene and I went on one of our road trips
driving around Maine. It was a blue sky sunny day. The scenery was
gorgeous. We stopped at yard sales. I scored one of my best finds
ever--a meowing cat clock. Every hour has a picture of a cat--the 12
most popular breeds. And every hour there is a meow. I got other
cool stuff including a cat coffee mug. Then on the way home we got
ice creams. We ordered mediums and they were huge. I got Maine
blueberry. It was delicious. So it was a super special fun day.
(Jules)
That is a gorgeous clock. (Tobago).
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway



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My kids with my mother-in-law at her birthday party.

The Awkward Thoughts of W. Kamau Bell

The Awkward Thoughts of W. Kamau Bell

Adult memoir
"This white guy can relate to me because he's been around Black
people his whole career and/or because he's married/dated [insert
nonwhite race here] before and/or he's actually a member of an ethnic
group that is--according to him--adjacent to Black people in the
struggle Olympics, and/or this white guy grew up in Nu Yawk Siddy, so
there's literally no way he can be racist!..."
Many of you probably know of comedian W. Kamau Bell from
television or social media. I first learned of him when I picked up
his book. I found it to be interesting and insightful. His narrative
consists of two strands.
The first strand is his life story from his childhood raised by
a single mother through his professional marriage and interracial
marriage. As a teen he felt like he didn't really belong with his
peers. Much to his father's disappointment, he showed no interest in
organized sports. (He did take up martial arts.) He dropped out of
college when he realized his classes did not interest him. His road
to comedic success was long and challenging.
The second strand consists on his "awkward" thoughts on a number
of topics:
*being a large Black man
*superheroes
*sports
*Trump's election
And other fascinating subjects on which he puts unique spins.
Whether or not you've encountered Bell's work in other media, I
think you'll find this book interesting and informative.
On a purrrsonal note, hey, we're coming up on another weekend.
The high point of my week has been UMaine's five day Racial Justice
Challenge. It was totally engaging and thought provoking. The second
most exciting EVENT of my summer. (The first being my older
daughter's wedding). That's not just my opinion. Over 3,000 people
from all over the world are participating.
The low point was my toe. Somehow I managed to mess up one of the
toes I dropped a bowling ball on a few years back. I'm elevating and
icing which means I have to lie around reading.
Next Tuesday is a sad anniversary for me: the first year one of my
precious Joey cat's death and burial. I may spend much of the weekend
hiding out in good books. Not a day goes by that I don't miss my
little friend. (Jules)
My hooman is limping. I want her paw to get better. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Jen and her colleagues who created
the challenge. We hope it's only the first.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway


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One more picture from camp. The textures of trees, plants, various
types of moss, and even dead leaves underfoot are amazing.

You Can't Touch My Hair

You Can't Touch My Hair

Adult nonfiction
"...Black hair seems to raise a lot of nonblack people's blood
pressure. I've seen the gamut of emotion on people's faces--awe,
confusion, stress, anger, joy, amazement, suspicion, envy, attraction,
you name it--because we, and I'm using the royal we, as in society,
have never figured out how to have a healthy, functional relationship
with black hair."
If Phoebe Robinson's You Can't Touch My Hair And Other Things I
Still Have To Explain was a chip flavor it would be salt and vinegar.
If it was a candy it would make your mouth pucker. If it was a salad
there'd be at least a few jalepenos. It's mentally tart, tangy, and
irresistible. You can't read just one chapter.
Robinson is a comedian, a member of a profession that boasts few
blacks, very few women, and very very few black women. She has to
know how to keep audiences engaged, especially those who see female
comedians as inferior to their male peers. Her unapologetic, unique
voice also sizzles on paper as she explains the tribulations she and
other People of Color have to deal with on a regular basis. They
include:
*Being the Black friend--the "singular dash of black pepper in a bowl
of grits", the sole authority on cool and all things multicultural,
the spokesperson for about a gazillion unique people, the
certification for a white person's wokeness;
*being called uppity for being intelligent, articulate, capable, or
assertive;
*constantly having to monitor the emotions she conveys to avoid being
stereotyped as the Angry Black Woman--even when she has every reason
to be angry;
and *being trailed by store security people who see Black and think
shoplifter when she just wants to do a little shopping.
I recommend this book for people who are White like me. It can
help us see the harm of micro and not so microaggressions. Hopefully
it will make us angry--angry enough to join in the antiracist
uprisings going on because Black Lives Matter immensely.
On a purrrsonal note, this week is amazing. Last week I got the
chance to sign up for a five day racial justice challenge being put on
by Jen who is a librarian at Fogler (UMaine) Library and some of her
colleagues. I signed up speedy quick. Today is day three. The
challenge is really well crafted which takes a lot of time and
energy. There is a great balance of reading, computer audio, and
actions. And for FREE! How lucky can I get! It's like an oasis in a
coronavirus dessert, a cruise without the COVID. (Jules)
Will someone please create a five day tuna eating challenge? I'm up
for that. (Tobago)
A great big shout goes out to the creators of the challenge and my
fellow participants. You are awesome!
Tobago and Jules Hathaway



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Another picture from the trip to camp. I thought the rock was cool.

Harbor Me

Harbor Me

Juvenile nonfiction
"'I can't say stuff like how much the gun thing sucks,' Ashton
said. 'But, I mean, but does everything have to be about black versus
white? I mean, what if people just stopped talking about racism.
Wouldn't it just go away?...
Amari stopped drawing and shook his head. 'You just don't get
it.'"
Jacqueline Woodson's Harbor Me is one of those rarest of
literary gems--the chapter book that is vibrant, spirited, well
crafted, and enchanting as opposed to dull, pedantic, and vocabulary
simplified.
There are six kids in a special ed class. Although the adults
in their lives work hard to build their self esteem, they know how the
other kids see them. One Friday an hour before dismissal their
teacher leads them to a room that used to be the art room. Now it
will be their safe space. Every week they'll get to spend time
together talking with no adults present.
"I think any other bunch of kids would have started happy-
dancing and acting crazy because there weren't going to be any grown-
ups around. But we weren't any other kids."
At first they're not comfortable with the situation. They have
no script for it. What will they even talk about?
They do have some stories. Estaben's father has been taken by
immigration. His undocumented mother is in peril. Amari has been
told he can no longer play with his toy guns. People might see him as
dangerously thuggish because of the color of his skin.
"'The cops who shot that kid in the park didn't even ask him any
questions,' Amari said. 'Just came in the park and shot him right
away.'"
Tiago sees how his mother, vibrant and outgoing in Puerto Rico,
is fearful and quiet in New York. Ashton is being tormented by
bullies. Holly is ashamed of her impulsivity and her family's money.
As they share they come together as a group. They become each
other's harbor. But narrator Haley hasn't shared the burdens she
carries. Will she?...
...read the book and find out.
On a purrrsonal note, I love Woodson's uses of the word harbor as a
safe space and as the ways people shelter the ones they care about.
In happier days I was going from one harbor to another: work, class,
commuter lounge, Black Bear Exchange, and so many other previous
places. When shelter in place started I felt like a big old ugly,
useless cruise ship drifting aimlessly on the ocean because these
harbors were shut. Then I began to see the harbors that are open and
opening. My kids and their significant others are harbor even when
we're all miles apart. My marriage of 31 years is a harbor. Lisa is
a harbor bringing food and friendship. Emily H is a library book
harbor and friend who also gives me candy. And I just remet (socially
distanced by Internet) someone I have a lot in common with. (Jules)
My home and hoomans are my harbor (Tobago).
A great big shout out goes out to all sentient members of all species
who shelter their loved ones in times of crisis and uncertainty.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway



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A nice nature picture from the camping trip. It's very serene. I do
my best not to laugh when Eugene talks about the area becoming too
developed. But then again I've lived in Boston.

Love Warrior

Love Warrior
Adult Memoir
"...My cousins chase each other from room to room, a tornado of
squeals and skin. It's summer and most of them are wearing bathing
suits, as if that's easy. Their bodies are light and wispy and they
seem to float and flit together, in a unit--like a school of fish..."
Glennon Doyle Melton, author of Love Warrior, was only ten when
she watched the other children from the safety of her grandmother's
couch. Where she saw them as fish, she perceived herself as a whale--
not deserving of belonging. She was also ten when she discovered how
to binge and purge.
"...Bulemia is the word I make for myself, since I don't know
how to fit into the real world. Bulemia is my safe, deadly hiding
place...where my hunger can be as big as it is, and I can stay as
small as I need to."
Melton had sex for the first time in high school. It was far
from a blissful experience. She felt like her boyfriend was using her
like cats use scratching posts. She learned to survive intercourse by
leaving herself until it's over.
By the time Melton married Craig she had also become a problem
drinker. Somehow they managed to add three children to the mix and
function as a family. Melton became a successful writer.
But Craig had brought his own baggage into the marriage. One
day he makes a devastating admission. Throughout their union he has
been sleeping with other women.
Can this marriage be saved?
You'll want to read the book to find out.
On a purrrsonal note, welcome to another week. I hope you had a great
weekend. I surely did. Eugene and I went to camp. It was nice and
peaceful and not overly hot. I hung out a lot on the camp front
porch, reading of course. I had an amazing bird visitation! A
hummingbird hovered in front of me showing me its jewel green chest.
Such a beautiful sight! Eugene cooked supper on the grill. Another
benefit to camp! In the evening we played cards and watched a movie.
Of course when we got home Sunday was happy to see us. (Jules)
My hoomans are safely home with me where they belong. (Tobago).
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene, our shelter at home companion.


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