One book down

Two nights ago I finished Three Cups of Tea. Whatever words I can pull together about this book will be completely inadequate. I can't believe that I didn't know about it until three weeks ago. For those who have read the book, just skip my blathering. For those who haven't, buy it now (from their website, so money will go to the charity).

It's the story of Greg Mortensen, former mountaineer, turned humanitarian, written by David Oliver-Relin. An encounter in a village in remote Northern Pakistan led Mortensen on an incredible journey, which resulted in the construction of over 50 schools in Northern Pakistan. Not only do these institutions provide education for girls, which is sorely needed in this area of the world, but they also provide a secular alternative to the ubiquitous madrassa. Mortensen is fighting terrorism and promoting peace by going directly to the source: providing opportunities through education for an impoverished people. You will be astounded and amazed at what he has accomplished in just over a decade.

Obviously I loved the book for it's peaceful message, but also because it brought back so many memories of my travels to Pakistan. My last trip to South Asia was just over seven years ago. I've walked many of the streets in Peshawar and Islamabad described in the book. I've had many, many cups of tea, from roadside stands, dilapidated guesthouses, homes of collaborators, and hotels in Islamabad. I have also been humbled by the hospitality of people who had far less than I.

In the years after I left my job, I missed the smell of Islamabad, the admixture of petrol and humanity that would wash over me as I disembarked the plane. I loved being completely disconnected. I would call home once or twice per field season. There was no internet, no phone, and no distractions. There was field work under a blistering sun and afternoon tea with pekoras.

I wonder what my daughters will think of that part of my life, traveling the world to do paleontological fieldwork. I can only hope that knowledge of my life before them will provide a deeper appreciation of who I am. I'm not just the maker of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or the changer of diapers.

Recommendations

Thanks to everyone who commented and/or sent me recommendations via email. Five people told me that I needed to read Three Cups of Tea so that is my first read from the list.

Other recommendations include:

Ken Follet's The Pillars of the Earth
John Grogan's Marley and Me
Anything by Jodi Piccoult
Sarah Addison Allen's Garden Spells
Comfort Food and Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs
Marisa de los Santos' Love Walked In
John Shors' Beneath a Marble Sky
Lee Smith's The Last Girls
Erik Larson's The Devil in the White City
Stephen King's The Mist
Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum Series
Gilda Radner's It's Always Something
Richard Russo's Straight Man
Jane Smiley's Moo
Augusten Burroughs' Possible Side Effects
Jeffrey Eugenides' Middlesex
Khaled Hosseini's The Kite Runner
Jeannette Walls' The Glass Castle
Elie Wiesel's Night
Phillipa Gregory's Boleyn Books
Alan Brennert's Moloka'i
Jhumpa Lahiri's Interpreter of Maladies
Jennifer Finney Boylan's She's Not There

In addition I received recommendations for book sharing and/or review sites. Sydney recommends GoodReads. Ani hooked me up with Shelfari, and Sarah introduced me to Bookins. Thank you all.

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In non-book related news, Julia is finally walking just two days short of her thirteenth month-day. I captured video of her new skills this morning, but Dropshots is being funky. Video of that milestone will be up soon (hopefully).

Craig was elated that she started walking prior to his departure for Albany, NY this afternoon. He'll be gone for four and a half days to meet with colleagues about their National Science Foundation Grant. Needless to say I'm going to miss him terribly. He is due to arrive home just in time to celebrate our wedding anniversary (good move, Craig, missing the anniversary would make for a very unhappy wife).

Summer reading

I remember cool summer nights lying in bed with the window open reading Nancy Drew or the Little House series (for the umpteenth time). My cousin Kelly spent at least a month with us every summer, and she and I would read for hours. When the last page was turned, I would drop the book to the floor and reach for Kelly's latest discard. She would do the same.

During those summers I also spent at least two weeks with my grandparents at their cottage in the woods outside Kalkaska, Michigan. They didn't have electricity, so reading and playing cards provided our entertainment. Each week we would make a trip to the local library, and I would come home with a stack of books to read. On many a night my grandfather would read aloud to me. To this day his voice embodies Winne-the-Pooh for me (of the A.A. Milne variety, not Disney's interpretation).

I don't read much now. Or rather I read in spurts. I will devour three novels in a week and then abstain from reading for three months. It's as though I have forgotten how much I love to read--how immersing myself in the fantasy of another life is so delicious. Buying books was always a luxury in which I indulged, and I'm afraid to say that the last book I bought was for Grace's preschool teacher.

So my friends of the internet, what are you reading? What do you recommend this summer? Do you still read or have you fallen into the trap of reading non-fiction parenting books or only blogs (as I have)? If you had only three books you could read for the next ten years (I won't say for your life), what would they be?

As always, you non-commenters can send me an email.