Life Goes On

Tugby isn't sure what's happened to his world.  He's a little clingy, and a little confused.  I used to feed him here in my office, because he has such a ferocious appetite that he finished his food and then galloped over to Chester's bowl in the kitchen to finish that.  Chester just stood to one side and watched the show, but of course that didn't help his digestive issues.  It was easier to feed Tugby in here and then shut him in until Chester was finished whatever he managed to eat.  Now Tugby's bowl is where Chester ate, and there is no sign of his orange buddy.  When we feed Tugby he grabs the first few mouthfuls quickly and then leaves his food to look for Chester.  When he can't find his friend, Tugby comes back and finishes his meal.  Its hard to watch.

I know I want another cat, eventually.  Its too soon today, and I don't know when we'll be ready, but I know that Tugby is lonely without Chester.  It was also really nice to enjoy a cup of tea at night, and we both had a cuddly cat on our lap.  I had also gotten used to sleeping with a tangle of cats at the bottom of the bed, and now we're down to Tugby, it feels wrong.

 My son took me to check out two kittens yesterday.  They were brown tabbies and very sweet, but it was far too soon to even think about bringing someone home with us.  One was the runt of the litter and very tiny.  You could feel his backbone and ribs, and he was pretty lethargic.   I think we need someone with a little more spunk who would enjoy playing with Tugby.  I don't want Tugby to get too used to being the only cat, but I don't want to rush the process either.  In a few months it will be springtime again, and there will be many new kittens to choose from.  I will be feeling less sad, and can enjoy the process of choosing who our new companion will be.

I'm not reading a lot these days.  I'm not watching TV, or doing needlepoint either.  I'm just drifting around the house, without purpose, or hanging out with Tugby.  I don't know who needs the cuddling more. 

Farewell Chester

I didn't sleep well last night, so I amused myself by planning what I would write about in my blog today.  This is not the blog I planned to write.  Unfortunately I wasn't the only member of the family to have a bad night because we woke up to find that Chester had bled in several places on our sheets and duvet cover.  I made an appointment to take him to the vet this morning, but was afraid that we were not going to have a happy ending.

  And I was right, the vet and I agreed that there was no further choice but to put Chester to sleep.  My poor orange kitty had reached the end of any treatment that could be given, and his condition had gone downhill again.

We adopted Chester from the OSPCA in the fall.  It was love at first sight.  He was an orange tabby with an alert, tolerant look on his face.  He loved to sit high up in the outdoor cage, and watch the antics of the other cats and check out the visitors coming in.  He had been picked up as a stray, but obviously had been in a loving home as he was already neutered and declawed.  He loved to wander around our backyard on a leash, which is very unusual for cats, so obviously he had been walked before.   He didn't recognize the name "Chester" but came to our call regardless.  I've always wondered what his previous name was, but he never spilled the beans.

 

 Chester adjusted well to our home, and loved to lie on my husband's chest on the weekends and watch sports.  They made a happy pair!  He played with Tugby when he had the energy, and followed me around the house during the day.  He spent most of his time sitting in the sphinx position, maybe stretching out was painful.

 Chester had kitty Crohn's disease and an irritated lining in his stomach.  We tried several antibiotics, antiparasitics, kitty immodium, and 2 different steroids after his diagnosis.  He endured kitty enemas in preparation for his endoscopy.   We fed him premium vet's cat food, and added an extra daily feeding, but still he lost weight.  His appetite was shrinking, and it became obvious that he was bleeding.  He stopped playing with Tugby and grooming himself.

This entire situation has brought back memories of my parents' deaths.  They died in 2008, about 8 months apart.  Both of them were in poor health, and in both cases I had to make decisions about end of life care.  It is always hard to see someone you love suffer, and it is also difficult to make decisions that you know are going to end life.  Sometimes you have no choice.

I am crying a lot today, but trying to imagine Chester running around in the afterlife.  He is no longer in pain, he can run and play with all the other cats.  He is not in pain, and he doesn't need to wear his leash when he goes outside.  He can chase mice and birds, climb trees and roll around in a dirt bath.

A Moment of Clarity

  So, I was lying in bed this morning, trying to orient myself as to date and time.  I was actually feeling pretty good, because I woke up with a complete mental list of what had to be done.  Pilates class, quick grocery shop, pick up vitamins, home briefly, meet a friend after lunch, make chili for supper (son home for weekend).   

That's when things started to go downhill.  I got up, dressed and prepared for pilates class.  I clearly remember taking my tensor knee brace off yesterday and putting it down.  Unfortunately I don't remember where.  It's not with my exercise clothes in the bedroom.  It's not in the drawer, or by the computer, or in the living room, nor is it in the basement.  I know I took it off because obviously its not still on my knee, but I had to go to pilates class without it.  Of course, the world didn't end, and probably I should stop relying on it anyway.  Hopefully it will show up before weightlifting class on Tuesday, I have 3 days to go.

Then I went out to my car and threw my pilates mat in the back seat.  That's when I found the red peppers and cheddar cheese my son gave me yesterday.  I hadn't taken them out of the car and put them in the fridge.  No harm was done because the weather is too mild to freeze anything, and too cold for the cheese to get runny.  But still, that was strike 2, and it wasn't even 9 am yet.  Until I saw the bags in the back seat, I had totally forgotten about that food.

I was expecting a call from the friend I was meeting this afternoon, and that's when discovered I'd misplaced my cellphone.  So instead of doing the quick grocery shop after class, I had to rush home and call my cellphone so it rang until I found it.  At least that went according to plan, and now I'm ready to go out and face the world again.  By my count that's strike 3, and it isn't even noon yet.  Can you imagine the disasters that are lurking for this afternoon?

Winter Daze

This is the weather in our corner of the world at the moment.  It's relatively warm (if icy for walking) but it's also very gray and dull out.  I hate to whine, truly, but this mild and gray weather is getting me down.  Storms are not the answer either, what I want is some good old fashioned sunshine.  Taking vitamin D in pill form is getting really old.

That's more what I'm talking about.  Tropical sunshine would be nice, hey, a tropical vacation would be even nicer.  But a good solid week of sunshine would really go a long way towards making life brighter.  

What is it about sunshine that makes everything seem easier?  Bothersome tasks seem to finish themselves.  People seem chattier and happier in general.  You start to clean up and organize something, and the next thing you know the job is done, and you've finished the next room too!  Even if it's cold out, if the sun is shining its easier to motivate yourself out the door and around the block, or around the lake if you have enough time.

I finished the last Seanan McGuire book "One Salt Sea".  That's the end of the series until "Ashes of Honour" is released in September.  All of the other books I had been piddling around reading just paled in comparison to these books.  I love Toby Daye's voice and attitude.  I get caught up in the action as she is swept into each new adventure.  Of all the books I have read, I can imagine this series being made into an amazing set of movies, or even a TV series like the "Game of Thrones".  If they could find a director who followed the books and respected the character, that is.  And if they didn't try to cast Lindsay Lohan or some other actress who doesn't know how to act as the lead.  I loved the "Hunger Games" by Suzanne Collins, and am looking forward to seeing the first movie when its released.  I raved about "Game of Thrones" series to one of my sons for over a year before he actually started to read it.  Now he's hooked and its been made into a very successful TV series by HBO.  Another example of a successful transition is Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse series, which has become the HBO series "True Blood"

The message is not that I am an expert critic who can predict what kind of books will successfully move into another media.  Instead, there are just some authors and books which are so vivid and stand out in your mind so clearly that you can "see" them, and I believe that Seanan McGuire is another author whose work is capable of this switch.  Of course, in order to enjoy these books, you have to enjoy reading the fantasy genre of fiction where you are prepared to believe that there is a parallel universe of fae creatures.

At the moment I am taking a break from reading (actually, I'm pouting because my Toby Daye books are finished) fiction, and I'm reading a feel-good book called "Unlikely Friendships" by Jennifer S. Holland.  The book is a collection of very brief stories outlining unlikely relationships between animals of different species.  The kind of stories which turn up on Utube with pictures of dogs nursing kittens, or tigers playing with pigs.  Its just a feel-good, happy kind of book that doesn't tax your brain remembering long lists of characters.  You know when you see the cover that nobody is going to be in peril, there will be no forensic investigations, and love and tolerance will prevail!

Everybody's Talking

The subject of my rant yesterday was two young girls laughing at the group of women I exercise with.  There are two thoughts I didn't have a chance to pursue in that blog.  Firstly, that any group of women who see each other regularly over a period of time bonds together.  I don't think that men bond in the same way, even if they're on a recreational team (like hockey) as women do over a more casual exercise class.  I think that's because women are more communicative as a sex; there has been a lot of research which proves that our brains are hard wired to form relationships.  As we're getting undressed or showering, women inevitably discuss the state of our lives, children, husbands, or parents.  At least one member of the group will be able to make a suggestion, or stop for a moment and just focus on what you're saying.  Sometimes just knowing that someone shares your experience, or even chuckles with you can make a difference to how you feel.  It's one of the side effects of joining exercise classes that I didn't realize but would really miss if I quit.

The other subject that I kept thinking about is how free people feel to share their negative opinions these days.  I don't know why it has become so prevalent, and I hate to wander around muttering about how much better life was in "the good old days".  But.  It just feels like there is far more negative than positive feedback around us.  You can feel the negatives vibes in traffic, in the grocery line and while you're waiting for coffee at Tim's.  There seems to be a rush to condemn behaviour without thinking about what may lie behind it, or to dismiss the possibility that the popular opinion may be mistaken.  Maybe its the popularity of reality shows which are unscripted and cleverly edited to provide clear "good" or "bad" behaviour and which encourage the audience to take sides.  Maybe its the readily available cellphone or twitter account, which allow people to communicate whatever they're thinking, wherever they are.  Maybe its just the logical conclusion to the sixties attitude of "let it all hang out".


Whatever the reason, it doesn't feel comfortable to me.  Perhaps that's because I spent my childhood surrounded by very verbal people, who were capable of being most unkind.  My mother took great pleasure in dissecting her acquaintances with a witty description.  My father held court in his office during every coffeebreak, discussing current events and venting his disdain for people who did not share his political viewpoint.  Superficially both of these people were capable of being charming companions.  However if you were the target of their eloquence, you had reason to regret it because it was like taking a bath in acid; you were so relieved when you got out.  I learned at an early age that it was not particularly helpful to point out other people's failings, no matter how humourously you did so.  This was not an easy lesson to learn, but it certainly has shaped how I have treated my friends and loved ones.  It may explain why I dye my hair purple, to make people smile or laugh over something silly and childlike.  Without trying to sound even remotely saintlike, I also try very hard not to snap at or be rude to people.  Its far easier to smile and nod to cheer somebody up than it is to snarl at everyone and spread misery.

Rant to Young Girls

 Last week when I was at the gym, I walked into the change room to find a group of friends I exercise with visibly upset.  Apparently two young girls, approximately 13-15 years of age had stood in the showers pointing and laughing at them while the women were getting dressed. The incident was over before I finished class, so I had no opportunity to talk to these girls, and it has been bothering me ever since.

We were upset because of the overall unkindness in the remarks, and because the women had been so surprised by the verbal attack that no one had been able to defend themselves.  We all know how we look, that we're no longer in the best physical shape of our lives.  Some of us wear medication patches, some have scars from surgery, some even use walkers to get around.

I wish I'd been there in time to talk to the girls.  To explain that although we probably look grotesque and fat and old to them, we have earned the bodies we live in.  We have birthed babies and raised children.  We have worked outside our homes and been responsible for maintaining the housework as well.  By our age, we have cared for our ill and confused parents and then buried them.   Yes, there are women among us who are heavier and women who are thinner, but all of us are at least moving our bodies and doing the best we can.  Over the course of a year, its not unusual for at least one of us to disappear for a few weeks and come back to explain that they'd had a husband or parent in the hospital.  We all understand.

I remember looking at my mother in the mirror when I was a teenager and thinking (to myself, because I didn't have a death wish) that my breasts would certainly never be so big that they would sag.  That my upper arms wouldn't wobble when I brushed my teeth and I wouldn't get crowsfeet around my eyes.   I planned to always look the same, with high, perky breasts, a tight stomach and bright clear eyes.  Aging was what happened to parents, certainly not to me.

 

Fur Babies

Since today is a dull and gray Monday, I decided to share some more pictures of our beasties.  The photo to the left shows Tugby and Chester perched in our dining room window.  They were fascinated by the squirrels in the backyard, but turned to see what I was up to.  We have bow windows in both our living and dining rooms, and the cats both love to spend time checking out the action.  

The living room window provides a street view.  When we first brought Chester home the people across the street were renovating, and he was fascinated by all the workmen.   The minute all the renovations went inside and the workers disappeared, Chester stopped sitting in that window.  I wonder if Chester is a reincarnated geeky red-headed engineer with a pocket protector, who died while supervising a building site. 


Here are a couple of pictures of Chester in our basement.  I don't know why he likes to sit on newspapers and such, but even if there is nothing else around, he will perch himself  as you can see in these photos.  He seems to be getting a lot more lively lately.  Still no change in his digestive issue, but he does have more energy and is playing with Tugby more and grooming himself.  I'm hoping this is a sign of ongoing improvement and that these pills will eventually make a difference in his quality of life.
Here is a picture of Tugby by himself.  I didn't realize how difficult it is to take pictures of a totally black cat, until I tried.  He seems to need to be directly under a light source before he shows up clearly.  He is such a gentle soul, the minute we pick him up he goes limp and cuddles.  Of course, if he has another agenda he mysteriously shifts all his weight to the body part which is the lowest, and just sinks out of our arms.  His fur is like silk, and when you're holding him, it's hard not to keep running your hands over his body.  He loves to cuddle into an arm and tuck his head into your armpit. 

Here are photos of our two boys playing together.  Its hard to get them into the same picture, as they scoot and scramble all over the house and by the time I've focused the camera, they're out of the frame.  They particularly love to play with a fuzzy ball that makes a crinkly noise when they pick it up in their mouth.  Unfortunately, the action is so fast I haven't capture more than a blur yet, but I'll keep trying.  Tugby also loves to chase plastic springs.  Chester retrieves the fuzzy balls if you throw them for him, and Tugby will bring us his springs. 
I'm so glad that we decided to get two cats.  We've always had only one cat at a time, and they seem to be such good company for each other, and us.  I still hope to add a dog of our own to the family, but in the meantime we enjoy our grandpuppy.

It was a crazy weekend and I didn't get much time to read.  I'm still working on the "The Next Ex", "Late Eclipses" and "The Girl who was Kidnapped Twice".  I'll keep you posted.

Guilty Pleasures

I collect snowmen.  Actually, the collection has grown now to the point that I think the snowmen own me, not the other way around.  This addiction started innocently enough several years ago.  I was attending a Christmas party where we exchanged gifts and then could "trade" our present for one we preferred.  Well, we all fought over a particularly cute snowman teapot (you can see him in the centre of the top photo, left) and I won!   I brought him home, and my sons picked up on the theme and bought me another snowman or two for Christmas.  After that, I was hooked.   As you can see, he has found many companions since then! 

Various other members of the family jumped on the snowman wagon, and now the actual count is well over 50.  

It's convenient for people to know that I have a collection that they can add to relatively inexpensively, and that I will enjoy immensely.  My snowmen are on display from November until March since I don't think of them as being a strictly Christmas decoration.  My daughter-in-law has firm ideas about which snowman goes where, so she comes over and arranges them for me in November.  We had to be very careful this year not to put any of the fragile guys on the bottom shelf of this display as there is a steep drop behind them, and Tugby loves to slink around and play vulture on it.  There are more snowmen in our basement, they seem to be spreading out of control.  There are even snowmen outside!

 The number of snowmen has grown well beyond what I expected.  Another thing that surprises me is that I can remember who gave me each snowman, and what his name is.   On the surface it would appear that I have far too many snowmen, but each one represents a memory, and good wishes from somebody I love.  What more could you ask for?

Cooking

Do you cook every day?  I do.  Breakfast and lunch are generally solo efforts during the week because my husband does his thing and is out of the house before I'm upright.  But I prepare supper every night.  As I mentioned in an earlier blog I tend to prepare meals from scratch and don't use prepared or frozen entrees so I control the fat and sugar content.  The biggest problem I face is that my husband is not home at a predetermined time, it ranges between 8 and 10pm.  I generally wait until 8, and then eat without him because otherwise I'll just nibble junk food.

When you're cooking, do you use a cookbook?  This question arose for me when a close friend sent me an email requesting that I join a recipe chain.  All I had to do was write down 1 recipe and send it to two different people, eventually I would receive about 30 recipes in return.  I was supposed to send recipes that I cook all the time, but unfortunately I don't actually use recipes very often.  I love to read cookbooks and imagine how the ingredients will taste.  I have a respectable collection of cookbooks, and also spend time on line, checking out recipes on websites.  But after over 30 years of cooking suppers my repertoire has become fairly predictable.  Instead of measuring, I use a "splash of this" or a "dash of that" or "the rest of something before it goes bad".  Very difficult to explain in an email recipe.

The list of ingredients I use depends on what is in season and what is on hand.  I cook a lot of main meals that can be prepared in one pot because I hate a dirty kitchen, and most things are going to sit and wait to be eaten.  Thus we eat pasta with red sauce and ground beef (or pork, or chicken).  Chili is always a good stand by because I use minimal meat and at least 4 cans of beans plus whatever vegetables are on hand.   Since we rarely eat breakfast together, bacon or sausages and eggs are a dinnertime treat. 


One series of  contemporary cookbooks that I really enjoy reading are more like a travel book with recipes than a simple cookbook.  They are written by a husband and wife team whose names are Naomi Duguid and Jeffery Alford.  They have travelled throughout the Asian continent since 1985, individually, as a couple, and with young children.  Naomi takes incredible photographs of the people, places and food.  They provide clear recipes that can be duplicated in a Canadian kitchen.   I first read "Seductions of Rice" which was an exploration of the global uses of rice.  Before reading it, I only used long grain converted rice.  Now my pantry includes red, black, jasmine and basmati brown rice.  "Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet" explores the cuisines of the Mekong delta, including Southern China, Cambodia, Laos, Thailand and southern Vietnam.  Many of the staples mentioned in this cookbook aren't available where I live, however Duguid and Alford have access to far more exotic ingredients living in Toronto.  They have written a total of four cookbooks, all of which have been prize winning, and if you enjoy travelling and cooking they are a wonderful way to spend a snowy January day.

Doing a Snow Dance

Well, it finally happened!  After many misleading forecasts we finally got some snow last night!  Unfortunately it had been rainy and foggy all day and then we had a sudden blast of arctic air, resulting in a flash freeze.  So underneath all the new fluffy snow on our driveway is a serious layer of ice.  I'm not sure exactly how much snow we got, because snow is now measured in centimetres and my mental ruler is still calibrated in inches.  But it was past my ankles, anyway. 

Although it was quite cold this morning the sky was blue and the sun was out so it was a perfect morning to shovel.   It was even more enjoyable because the snow itself was light and fluffy, easy to push to one side and even easy to throw up onto our (relatively small) snowbank.  The neighbours on both sides of me were also out shovelling their drives, so we chatted back and forth while working.

Usually my husband uses the snow blower and I don't have to worry about the driveway any more.  When our sons were much younger and we were living in another city, we used to shovel our driveway and our neighbour's driveways just because it was always fun to be outside.  When we moved to
the country, our driveway was much wider, and longer, so we were very glad to get a snow blower given to us.  

As a matter of fact, we still use that very snow blower.  It was probably close to 20 years old when we got it from my father-in-law.  That was probably close to 15 years ago now, so as you can see, this is not a fancy new snow blower, in its prime.

It's made out of steel and weighs at least one metric tonne, possibly more.  I cannot lift or move it.  To tell the truth, I can't even start it because It has one of those pull-cord starters that require more coordination than I have ever developed.   I suspect that our snow blower is inhabited by a malicious spirit because sometimes the cord pulls entirely out and requires rewinding.  Alternatively, it refuses to start, just because it can.  All of these antics usually occur during snowstorms when the wind chill factor is terrifying and any repairs must be undertaken with bare fingers in a frigid garage.  Truthfully, if anything happens to my husband I plan to bury him with the snow blower, and find a good looking young man to clear my driveway!

I just miss the company of two giddy little boys playing in the snow and helping me shovel.  Now both boys have homes of their own.  One still uses the arm strong method of shovelling, the other one has an ATV with a snow blade to push the snow out of his driveway.  I am assured that he only purchased the ATV for snow removal, and certainly not for any recreational purposes.

What Do You Eat?

Food and eating are such a difficult subject, aren't they?  Particularly at this time of year, when we've just spent the Christmas season enjoying all those special treats, and indulging in enormous holiday feasts.  Then, when we're all feeling bloated and slow moving, New Years hits and we all swear to never ever indulge like we just have.  What a trap food has become!

  Like most women, I have some body image issues.  We all have our reasons, and we all have our solutions.  I have turned to increased physical activity and core work to improve my fitness levels, and as a bonus improve my appearance.  

Of course, hand in hand with increased activity comes that old urge to start improving our diet.  And don't all the big diet companies know what we're going to do?  If you watch TV at all, you see the ads for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or Herbal Magic.  As far as I'm concerned, all the diet companies have a vested interest in keeping us fat.  They make a profit as long as they persuade enough people to use their product, for an indefinite period of time.  No matter what they tell you in the ads, or at the meetings, they don't actually want anybody to keep the weight off, because then they have no clients.  That is strictly my opinion, and I may be totally mistaken.  

 Personally, I try to use moderation in everything I eat.  I prefer fresh or frozen vegetables to canned.  I prefer to make most meals from scratch instead of buying frozen entrees.  I try to include a source of lean protein in every meal, and work (not very successfully) to eat as many fruits and veggies as possible.  We use butter, olive or canola oil, not margarine.  We try to eat at least 1 main meal a week that is based on beans or legumes.  We are blessed in the variety and quality of food that is available in Canada, and that we can afford to make these choices.


 However there always days and situations in a girl's life when chocolate is the only solution to the problem.  And when I reach that point, I try to enjoy a smallish piece of very dark chocolate with almonds.  Or chewy caramel wrapped in very dark chocolate.  Or dark chocolate cake with butterscotch ice cream, in moderation of course!  I don't have the craving feeling that I used to get when I was younger, that chocolate had better appear or somebody else was going to suffer.  I truly believe there is strong link between hormones and chocolate cravings, and as our hormones decline so do the cravings.  Which is not to say that I don't enjoy an occasional piece of chocolate. 

I am still not reading a lot these days.  All of the books I have mentioned recently:  "The Next Ex", "The Girl Who Disappeared Twice", and the Sara Paretsky anthology are all still on the go, but I'm just not into reading at the moment.

Beasties Part II

I am not comfortable with the technology that is available today. I recently bought a new cellphone.  One of the selling points in its favour was that it could be used as a camera so that I didn't have to bring a both camera and a cell phone with me when travelling.  I'm trying to take more pictures, and being able to use my cellphone has been liberating.

I spent some time this weekend taking photos of Tugby, Chester and even a couple of Boston.  I then spent most of today pestering the patient souls at Nokia to learn how to download these photos from my cellphone to the computer.  However, all things come to she who waits, and here are photos of my furry companions!


Here is Chester.  As I have mentioned, he is a beautiful orange tabby cat.  He is very good natured and pretty easy going most of the time.  He spends a lot of time snoozing, because he has an embarrassing digestive issue which seems to make him tired.  Since we rescued him from the humane society he has had 3 different types of medication, weekly vitamin B shots, a kitty endoscopy and came home with fleas.  He's on his second type of medication at the moment and there has been no change in his condition, but we're hopeful that things will change for the better soon.  He's had such a run of bad luck, its time for things to settle down for him.

And this is Tugby.  He likes to curl up on my printer and supervise while I'm on the computer.  Since he's a teenager, he's not always cooperative about staying in one place, but in this photo he had just woken up from a nap.  I tried to get a  picture of Tugby lurking in his cardboard box, but he refused to cooperate.   He is amazingly gentle for his stage in life, and rarely nips or scratches us.  Tugby does get frustrated with Chester sometimes when Chester won't play with him which leads to intense wrestling matches.

Of course, this blog wouldn't be complete without pictures of my grandpuppy, Boston.  He is a real character, who can communicate his opinion of our antics with an eloquent eyebrow.  When he gets totally frustrated with us, he howls his opinion until he gets what he wants.  He's in constant motion at our house, checking out whatever scents have been added since his last visit.  Yesterday we gave him a beef bone to chew in the back yard.  It was funny to watch him balancing on 3 legs to give each paw a break from standing in the snow.  He refused to come until the bone was gone, but unfortunately it was too dark to get a good photo.  


I actually didn't get around to reading much this weekend.  I have started an anthology of women crime writers, edited by Sara Paretsky.  I generally enjoy anthologies because it gives me the opportunity to check out a variety of authors without committing to reading an entire book.  I've only read a couple of very short stories so far, and am enjoying it.