'Tis

I have been trying to find enough time to read for weeks now, but seem to only find a few minutes here and there. So I made a serious plan to finish this book: I got up at 6 a.m., got myself all ready for church, got everyone's milk and minerals all mixed and sitting in the fridge, emptied and re-filled the dishwasher, and THEN (finally) headed out the door to get a pumpkin spice latte and to sit in Carrs and finish this book. It's the second book about Frank McCourt's life (I wrote about the first one, Angela's Ashes, a few weeks ago). In this memoir, he wrote about trying to make his way in America. Overall, the book made me a little sad because he just couldn't quite seem to overcome his childhood and "family curses." In my normal reading repertoire, the main character would valiantly conquer all hindrances and live up to his fullest potential. But this book wasn't a work of fairy tale fiction; it was a realistic account of this one man's life. And this one man had a few too many obstacles for a regular human being to hurdle, especially when he didn't have the foundation of faith to help him. His experience had been that the church was full of hypocrisy, and he really didn't have much desire to be involved with God in any way. He seemed to believe that his life and sins had disqualified him from God's favor, and this belief made him both angry at God and frustrated with the "hand he'd been dealt." He did, however, manage to rise above his upbringing a few steps, keeping regular jobs and getting a college degree. I'm hoping that his third book, which I hope to start reading this afternoon, will tell about a change of heart toward God.

oh, and (p.s.) he continued to use my new favorite phrase about "not giving a fiddler's fart" about anything :-)

and one more good quote: "good taste is what pops up when the imagination dies." i love that one!