Oh, dear . . .
Twice within the last month, chatter trailed behind as I made a hasty retreat from work. Paying it little mind, it followed out the revolving door, through the crosswalk, and down the sidewalk. Only when I turned to hold the door open for the person behind me did I realize I was fully intended to be a part of the conversation.
Sure, we can blame it on stress at work. Heavens, we can blame it on the times; with the advent of cell phones we’ve become accustomed to ignoring the person talking next to us. After all, people don’t just strike up conversations with strangers.
Or do they?
It’s a good reminder: sometimes you need to slow down, reevaluate, and find a way to get back to the sunny side of the street.
Luckily, we’ll be making the final preparations for an extended holiday, this weekend. Then, if I can make it through five more days at the office, I’ll have twenty-three in which to get my act together . . . or at least make a plan.
Do wish me luck.
With that, hello again; and a happy weekend, to you . . .
My love and I like to pop into small bookstores when we travel. Last spring, on our trip to Ashland, we swore we would forgo such tomfoolery as we had amassed quite the collection (yet to be read) on our honeymoon.
Alas, we simply cannot help ourselves.
Mrs. Sherlock Holmes by Brad Ricca was my book of choice.
It’s the story of Mary Grace Quackenbos Humiston. Admitted to the bar in the state of New York in 1904, well before women even had the right to vote, she founded the People’s Law Firm to provide fair representation to immigrants.
In the course of investigating a missing persons case, she discovered a labor camp that basically enslaved immigrants. She went on to expose peonage at great risk to herself; because of that work, she was appointed the first female Special Assistant United States Attorney.
As for the title, it comes from one of her more celebrated cases: the disappearance of 18-year-old Ruth Cruger, who went missing in broad daylight. The police basically waved the disappearance off as a young flirtatious girl, running away with a lover. But Mrs. Humiston’s dogged quest to solve the mystery led her to be dubbed Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (though she, herself, was not a fan of the moniker, admitting she did not rely on deduction alone to solve her cases).
As you might imagine, she made many a powerful enemy.
So, what did I think of the book? Well . . . it’s a bit of a mixed bag.
Unfortunately, I found it something of a slog to read. Ricca jumps back and forth between decades and cases in a writing style that is, at times, more akin to a report than a story of intrigue.
On the flip side, it’s evident he’s done his research. The facts introduce us to the amazing character that was Mrs. Humiston. They also shed light on a history of political corruption, law enforcement incompetency, slavery (of people of all colors), and human trafficking.
If we pay attention, the facts also shed light on how much work we have yet to do. And how desperately we need men and women to stand up for what’s right, to pursue truth, to help those who cannot help themselves, and give voice to those who have none.
For that, I say this book is worthy of a read.
A few weeks ago we hopped a plane to San Diego for a long weekend.
My honey attended a quick business trip Friday morning; I read. Then we proceeded to folic. We made memories with a few of our favorites; enjoyed dinner at a most delightful Italian restaurant; meandered The Midway; perused the San Diego Zoo; looked for the Top Gun house (recently torn down); made an In-N-Out pilgrimage; and buried our toes in the sand.
We also visited the La Jolla Cove to take in a few sea lions.
You know, it would behoove us to take a page from their playbook every now and again. Be you large or small, simply find a good spot and soak it all in. All those to-dos? They can wait.
Chances are good it will be worth it. I mean really, just look at those faces! Pure bliss . . .