No, I Haven't Stopped Reading

I just haven't been telling you about it. I don't know... I guess I feel like we're drifting. The sex isn't as fulfilling, your eyes -- they look so distant sometimes. So far away.

You still smell like day-old waffles, which I like. I suppose I'll have to hold onto that. Soon, it may be all I have.

The Backyard Beekeeper by Kim Flottum is the definitive reference for the person what is named in the title. The Birdchick Blog contains a lot of good stories about one woman's beekeeping experience, along with copious photos and movies.

When I finally get back into the country, I badly want to get some hives. I also want goats.

And chickens. It's ridiculously enjoyable to watch them cluck around, pecking the ground bugs and seeds. It'd probably be even better with a cooler of beer.

Plus, dozens of heritage breeds exist, each of which has different coloration, different eggs, and a different personality.

Living with Chickens by Jay Rossier details what's necessary to raise your own flock, either in the country or a city backyard. He includes plans for a basic coop and shows how to kill and clean them, if you're into that sort of thing.


Monster Planet finished out David Wellington's trilogy of zombie novels. Fun stories, but Romero's concept of the zombie makes more sense to me than Wellington's mystical version. Recommended anyway.


McSweeney's 23 was the rare issue where every story was on target. There are always standouts and several other good stories, but almost always at least one stinker. I loved every story in this one.


McSweeney's 24 was bound as a very cool double-issue, with one side being stories centering around "trouble", and the other side containing writer's remembrances of Donald Barthelme.

I'm not familiar with Barthelme's work, but the two uncollected stories published here make clear his influence on writers like George Saunders (whose tribute to and analysis of Barthelme is also here). His prose is considered and compact. And unpredictably weird, like Borges.

Another great issue. McSweeney's is always recommended. You really should subscribe.

Oh, Merle. Merle's Door is about the life and death of Ted Kerasote's dog. It's also packed with research that combines with Kerasote's experiences with Merle to form a perspective unique from the prevailing ones about dog behavior and sociology that say dogs require submission to an alpha figure in order to be satisfied. Kerasote believes that the independence Merle was allowed made him a smarter, happier dog with greater logical ability than most domesticated dogs and a more distinct personality. The many studies he quotes seem to back that up.

It's easy for a dog book to be sappy and maudlin, but Kerasote never once falls into that trap even when describing Merle's final weeks. He's fantastic at translating Merle's actions into speech and emotion, and it rarely comes across as anthropomorphization.

The account of Merle's death (and that of his best dog friend, Brower) is absolutely heart-crushing. I bawled as if he were my own. The research alone is reason enough to own this book and refer to it frequently, but ultimately Merle's Door is a great biography of a great dog. It shows what potential every dog has and opens a new way to think about our relationships with them. Very highly recommended.