Five Star Blog Roundup 442: Five Great Posts and an Ally Carter Quote
This week's roundup of great blog posts is brought to you by a big transition, cars, coffee, an old man’s passing, coming together, and an Ally Carter quote:
It was easy to believe, between lessons on Shakespeare and Dickens and Austen, that all of the great stories had already been written by dead Europeans. But every time I saw 'The Outsiders', I knew better. It was the first time I'd realized that real people write books.
— Ally Carter —
"An Extraordinary Machine" by Mimi Smartypants at Mimi Smartypants:
I know I have a tendency to do Life Stuff under the cover of night and then KAPOW announce it on the internet as ALL DONE. A secret little back-and-forth with a publisher and KAPOW parts of my dumb blog are turned into an equally dumb book. All done! Nine months of secret paperwork and another nine of secret waiting, KAPOW we’re adopting this baby from China and leave in a week, photos when I get back. All done! I don’t want to give the impression that this has been simple or easy or unconsidered. There were some modified “stages of grief” after his announcement.
“Freedom, Independence and My Car“ by Maria Wulf at Full Moon Fiber Art:
I insisted on giving my father the $100 for my first car, even though a friend told him he could have it for free as long as he could get it started. It had been parked on a deserted street somewhere in New York City for a long time.
I wanted to pay for the car, because I wanted it to be mine, with no strings attached.
I was seventeen, about to get my license and a car of my own meant my freedom and independence.
“Sleep“ by Todd Walton at Under the Table:
Having now gone ten days without coffee or black tea or any sort of caffeine, except what is contained in a tiny bit of chocolate, my energy has increased and my mood swings have become less dramatic. And I’ve been thinking about why I have such a hard time allowing myself to rest when I get tired.
“Everyone Has Been So Kind“ by Tania Kindersley at The Small Things:
Does it make it better or worse that he had a life well lived, that he was always joking and laughing, that he was brilliantly clever, that everybody who met him loved him? The memories will be richer; the loss will be greater.
It makes no difference and it makes all the difference.
I took soup. I made soup, last night, thinking of the dying, thinking of the living, thinking of the grieving. Today, I drove it up the hill.
“Committed“ by Rachel Barlow at Picking My Battles:
I took a mental picture of the storm roiling from the Taconics, over the Equinox mountain to the Greens as I drove to the grocery store after work last night. I wanted to remember everything about this moment, this second when the radio announced that all twelve boys and their coach had been rescued from the cave in Thailand.
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