Saturday, October 31, 2026

'Days at the Morisaki Bookshop" by Satoshi Yagisawa

My co-host at the Childless Collective Nomo Book Club and I were looking for something short and not too taxing (if not Christmas./holiday-related) for our group to read and discuss during the busy month of December -- and she suggested "Days at the Morisaki Bookshop" by Satoshi Yagisawa (translated from Japanese by Eric Ozawa).  (Bonus: a touch of diversity from our usual choices, as the book is set in Japan.)  

Takako is 25, working at an office job in the city, enjoying life and expecting a proposal from her boyfriend, Hideaki -- until he announces he's getting married -- to one of their coworkers. In despair, Takako quits her job, holes up in her apartment, and falls into depression.  

As her savings dwindle, she gets a call out of the blue (prompted by her mother, she suspects) from her uncle Satoru, who runs the second-hand bookstore originally owned by Takako's great-grandfather, in Jimbocho, a Tokyo suburb famous for its many used bookstores.  Takako was close to Satoshi in her childhood, but hasn't seen him in years. Nevertheless, when he throws her a lifeline -- a room above his bookstore, in exchange for helping out in the store -- she accepts. 

Satoru is in his mid-40s, slightly eccentric, and separated from his wife Momoko, who left him five years ago. He and Takako make an odd couple -- but they gradually begin to rebuild their once-close relationship. Satoru introduces her to his regular customers, as well as the coffee shop where she becomes a regular and makes new friends. Constantly surrounded by books, it's probably inevitable that Takako eventually becomes an avid reader. 

I enjoyed this book overall. It was a short, pleasant read, and it was nice to read something on the cozy/lighter side as autumn set in -- albeit it does touch on a few darker angles/triggers, including (content/ALI warnings/potential spoilers) depression, abortion, stillbirth, serious illness (possibly terminal) and suicidal ideation. I enjoyed that the book focused on the relationships between an uncle (and aunt) and niece, and how they helped to heal each other. And it's always fun reading a book that's about/touches on books and the love of reading. There's a note at the back about some of the books mentioned and which ones are available in English. 

3.5 stars on Goodreads and StoryGraph.   

This was Book #33 read to date in 2026 (and Book #4 finished in October), bringing me to 83% of  my 2026 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 40 books. I am currently on track to meet my goal! You can find reviews of all my books read to date in 2026 tagged as "2026 books."  

Hey 19!

19 years ago tonight, after the last trick-or-treater departed and we turned out the porch light, I hit "post" on my very first entry in this space. 19 years and more than 2,700 published posts later (!), I am still here, still writing about pregnancy loss, infertility and childlessness -- which is why I started my blog -- but also about books, getting older, dealing with the aging parents (from a distance), being an aunt and great-aunt, living in a condo, living through a pandemic -- in short, life.  

The Internet, and the blogosphere, have changed dramatically over 19 years -- but there are still many of us out here, writing about and connecting over our shared experiences -- if not always in old-style blogs these days, then on Substack, on social media, through podcasts and through private communities such as the Childless Collective. The childless-not-by-choice segments of the infertility and non-parenting communities have grown by leaps and bounds. There's always room for improvement, of course! -- but the progress has been unmistakeable for those of us who have been around a while. (Long may it continue...!) 

How long will I keep writing here?  Who knows?  I never would have imagined, 19 years ago tonight, that I'd still be here all these years later. Never say never (either way), right? Granted, my output has slowed a bit in recent years (and a lot this past year), after hitting an all-time high of 213 posts in 2021 -- the height of the pandemic, coincidentally or not (versus 132 posts last year in total, and 94 to date in 2026, including this one).  I've been distracted with other things since my mother's death in January -- and sometimes I find it hard to focus on other things that once consumed me, especially online stuff.  Quite frankly, even before Mom died, I have felt like I don't have quite as much to say here as I once did. (Or that what I do have to say is just a repeat of something I've already said here, probably more than once -- and often using the exact same wording too!)  

But still, not too bad. :)   Blogging has been a amazing outlet, a (partial) record of my life I can consult and look back on, and a great source of comfort and wonderful friendships for nearly two full decades -- and right now, I have no intentions of closing up shop anytime soon. :) 

Whether you've been here from the early days or just found this blog recently, thank you all for reading and commenting. :)  

*** *** *** 

Blogging stats, 19 years later:  
 
Number of years blogging: 19

Published posts (including this one): 2,7444

Average # of posts per year: 144 (two fewer than last year) 

Average # of posts per month: 12 

(So far in calendar year 2026, I've published 93 posts -- 94, including this one -- a minimum of 5 posts (in both January and May) and as many as 16 (in September, thanks to World Childless Week and its daily themes!).

Published comments: 12,830 

Page views (all time, as of yesterday): 5,918,092 (!!) an increase of 2.3 million views over 2025!!  

My 2025 total views of 3,608,027  (!!) was as many page views in one year as I received in the previous 17!!  This month alone to date (October 2026), my page views have been more than 400,000 (!).  Clearly, something weird is going on, as I noted in this post here from last year -- Infertile Phoenix wrote about the same phenomenon then too.)  

Followers (on Blogger):  157 

Friday, October 30, 2026

Odds & ends as October ends

...I attend roughly two dozen showers, bachelorette parties, weddings, and children’s events every single year.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m happy to participate.

When something is important to the people I love, it’s important to me, too. But as most women know, these events are notoriously time-consuming, socially demanding, and expensive as hell — especially when you’re a self-employed introvert....

Typically, women justify these big asks using the rule of reciprocation: “When it’s your turn, you’ll be thrilled when everyone finally shows up for you.”

But what if your turn never comes?
  • Also from Life Without Children:  Ali Hall is done with making parents more comfortable with her childfree by choice status by reassuring them that she doesn't hate children. (She doesn't -- but that's not the point...)  A couple of pithy excerpts (but do go read the whole thing!):  
I’ve spent too much time and energy wrapping up my choice not to have kids, or simply not having kids in general, into something digestible and palatable to make it easier for others to swallow. But I’m done. If they choke, that’s on them...

If we don’t have kids through choice, then every time we have reason to speak of this choice, many of us childfree women feel compelled to round the edges, to soften the perceived sharpness of this choice with a declaration of love for children, and an admiration for parents - particularly mothers - as if bowing down to a higher power. We feel the need to exclaim loudly that we aren’t monsters in the hope that we won’t be cast out....

When did you last hear a mother talking about her kids, while caveating her words with expressions of support and recognition to those who are childfree by choice, or an acknowledgement of the disenfranchised grief of those who are childless not by choice?

...I’m no longer softening my childfree existence for others. If anyone wants to believe I’m a monster simply for not reproducing, that’s a flaw in them, not me. 
  • Dh watches a lot of reruns of "The Simpsons" -- and I made him turn the channel when I realized it was an episode that I got quite pissed off at when it first aired a few years ago. (Hint: It involved the tensions between parents and childless people.)  I wrote about it here at the time!    
  • There's a paywall, eventually, but I loved what Elizabeth Day, a well-known British novelist, journalist and broadcaster, wrote before you hit it -- a moving post about her pregnancy losses and the UK's new two-week bereavement leave policy (!!) for losses before 24 weeks ("Maybe Our Pain Was Not Without Purpose"). (North American policymakers, take note!!) 
Last month, the government announced that women and their partners who experience a pregnancy loss before 24 weeks – including miscarriage, terminations and unsuccessful IVF embryo transfers - would be entitled to up to two weeks of unpaid leave from next April. The Prime Minister, Andy Burnham, posted a statement on Instagram. It was the first time, to my knowledge, that a British Prime Minister had ever publicly stated something so concrete about pregnancy loss. And it felt seismic.

Not because it was perfect. But because it marked a meaningful direction of travel... 

To have a government willing to acknowledge miscarriage as bereavement affected me deeply. Because for years, I had been busily trying to give voice to that silence and misplaced stigma. I wrote about fertility and spoke about it and tried, as much as possible, to ensure that no-one else would feel as alone as I did.

A lofty ambition, you might think. But that ambition gave me a mission. It gave me connection. It was a choice to attach meaning to what might otherwise have remained meaningless. 

Monday, October 26, 2026

"The Everest Mystery" by Julie Summers and Jochen Hemmleb

I don't remember when I first heard the story of George Leigh Mallory and Andrew "Sandy" Irvine, who disappeared while heading for the summit of Mount Everest in June 1924 -- but the story, and Everest generally, have fascinated me for years.  I read and enjoyed "Into Thin Air" by Jon Krakauer when it was first published in 1997 (he may have been the one to introduce me to Mallory and Irvine).  And I still find myself thinking about "Into the Silence" by Wade Davis, which I read and reviewed here in 2013. 

Mallory has long been the better-known half of the duo, amplified by the discovery of his frozen corpse on the slopes of Everest in 1999.  Then, just two years ago, in 2024, a boot containing a foot and a sock -- labelled with Irvine's name -- was discovered.  

Now Irvine's great-niece and biographer, Julie Summers, has teamed up with Everest historian Jochen Hemmleb to turn the spotlight on the great-uncle she never knew and analyze all the existing evidence as to what might have happened to him and his climbing companion in a new book: "The Everest Mystery: Sandy Irvine, George Mallory, and the Truth Still Buried on Everest." (I learned about it when I read a review in the New York Times in September.) 

The first part of the book recounts Irvine's growing-up years and pre-Everest accomplishments, as well as the early days of the 1924 Everest expedition, in alternating chapters that draw on his diaries and letters home -- many of which languished for decades in a trunk in the attic of his family's home. He was just 22, and did not have as much climbing experience as some of the other members of the group, but he was an excellent athlete, who rowed crew at Everton College, Oxford, and took part in an Arctic sledging expedition in Norway, in 1923. Moreover, his engineering background and his ability to fix all kinds of mechanical issues made him an invaluable member of the team, particularly when it came to monitoring and  repairing their newfangled oxygen tanks. 

The middle section deals with the group's repeated attempts to climb the mountain, culminating in Mallory & Irvine's final and ultimately fatal journey.  The last few chapters recount what happened next, including subsequent Everest expeditions, the artefacts they discovered from the 1924 climb, and other evidence, over time, that points to several theories of what might have happened to Mallory & Irvine and whether they might have reached the summit before they died.  

The earlier chapters were a bit slow-moving. Later, the questions of who found what, when and exactly where on the mountain, how the various accounts differed, and all the alternate routes Mallory and Irvine might have taken during their climb, had me somewhat dazed.  (Experienced climbers might react differently!) Some photos or maps/charts, plotting out the various sightings, etc., might have been helpful. There are some photos and charts in the book, but not alongside the text, and they were rather small (at least they were in my e-reader). It might have been easier to flip back and forth in a paper book.  

I most enjoyed this book when it gave us glimpses into who Irvine was as a person and the lingering impact his disappearance has had on multiple generations of his family. I was moved to tears at several points, reading about what happened after Mallory and Irvine disappeared into the mists of Everest, and the Irvine family's ongoing grief.  For example, Sandy's father learned of his son's death through a telegram from the Everest committee. He'd been expecting a telegram, but one bearing good news.  Until the end of his life, he believed his son had reached the top of the mountain before he died. Another example:  in 1930, a sherpa from the 1924 expedition handed a cloth-wrapped package to the British member of another Himalayan mountain expedition, and asked that it be delivered to Sandy's sister Evelyn (the author's grandmother). It contained 31 Himalayan garnets. Evelyn never opened the package;  her son Peter (the author's father) found it after Evelyn's death in 1978, and -- 21 years later -- gave it to the author to unwrap.   

An interesting addition to my Everest library. :) 

3.5 stars on both Goodreads & StoryGraph. (Goodreads now allows quarter & half-star ratings!) .  

This was Book #32 read to date in 2026 (and Book #3 finished in October), bringing me to 80% of  my 2026 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 40 books. I am currently on track to meet my goal! You can find reviews of all my books read to date in 2026 tagged as "2026 books."  

Monday, October 19, 2026

#MicroblogMondays: Annoying thing: Food changes

In a recent post, Grumpy Rumblings (nicoleandmaggie) mentioned: 

One of the problems with using old cookbooks is that sometimes prepackaged ingredients change completely. So I’m not sure if the recipe I just made for chocolate soufflé was bad or if the only chocolate pudding we could find that didn’t have caramel color in it (DC2 allergy) was chemically different than what was called for back in the 1980s.

I told her I could very much relate (and this post is based on the comment I left there!).  Two examples from my own recipe repertoire came to mind:  

First -- I was going to make a easy coleslaw salad recipe of my mother’s that she got from a friend about 40 (!) years ago, and that we've had almost every year at Christmastime since then. I've often made it to take to potlucks, etc., and I committed to bringing a salad (i.e., the coleslaw) with me to dh's cousin's cottage this spring, when ALL the cousins from that side of his family were coming and asked to contribute something to the food for the weekend.  

Besides a package of coleslaw/cabbage mix, the salad ingredients include two packages of ramen noodles, and one of the flavouring/seasoning/broth powder packets that comes with them, to use in the dressing. The ramen noodle packages were small square packages, about an inch thick, probably enough to serve one person, maybe two.  I don't remember the brand name, but my mom bought them at the local Co-op grocery store (I think they were a Co-op house brand?) — and although we don’t have the same brand here in Ontario, I was able to find something similar at the supermarket where we shop (from the Loblaws yellow label No-Name line).

At least I USED to be able to find something similar. The day before we were leaving for the cottage, I went to the supermarket to get the ingredients I needed to make the salad  — and I couldn’t find the ramen packages I always used to buy. They had other kinds of noodles in similar packaging — and BIG packages of ramen noodles — but that would have meant trying to figure out the right quantities to use, plus the flavouring packet wasn't included (and even if it was, would it have tasted the same as the stuff I usually used?? -- even the ramen packages I got here did not taste quite as good as what we used at my parents' house). 

I started to panic, which irritated dh... he thought I should be flexible and "just improvise." It’s one thing to improvise when it’s just for him & me, but when it’s for a family gathering and I need to make something up THAT NIGHT to take with us TOMORROW MORNING (not much time to do something else if it was a flop -- and some of his cousins are really good cooks…! and I had other things I needed to do before we left, too).

I finally did improvise a bit:  I left out the ramen noodles entirely, and made a simple vinaigrette dressing (basically, the usual dressing from the recipe, but without the ramen flavouring packet). It lacked the body of the original recipe, but it was okay as far as coleslaw goes -- the almonds and seeds helped add a bit of texture/crunch --and it did get eaten up. 

I guess I will need to find something else to bring to future gatherings...!  

When I was visiting my dad this summer, I checked at the Co-op to see if THEY had the ramen packages we always used -- as recently as last Christmas — and they didn’t have them anymore either!

Sigh… I really liked that recipe too! 

Example #2:  My aunt had a recipe for a really great vodka slush (also from the early 1980s -- in fact, I think she served it at my bridal shower!). It used cans of frozen orange juice and frozen lemonade (the frozen concentrate itself, straight from the cans), as well as some apricot nectar (hard to find, even then) — and vodka! You mixed up the ingredients and put them in a big container (like an ice cream pail) in the freezer, and it made a slushy mix.  A couple of scoops in a glass, topped up with 7-Up or Sprite, was great to serve at parties, or as something cold and refreshing on a hot summer day. 

But!  Earlier this year, Coca-Cola stopped making Minute Maid and other frozen concentrate drinks!! (in both Canada and the U.S.). Most other manufacturers (e.g., Old South) had already exited the market.  They cited changing tastes and declining consumer demand. (My personal theory is they figured they could make more money on the ready-made stuff vs people paying less and doing the mixing-up work themselves.)  We'd always made up our morning OJ from concentrate, and have reluctantly made the switch to bottled juice (which is much more expensive). But what to do to make slush??  (something that's mentioned in the article I linked to above!). 

(Another complicating factor for this and other older recipes -- as someone pointed out in one of the responses to Grumpy Rumblings' post -- a lot of food manufacturers have recently switched to cheaper/inferior ingredients, and reduced quantities -- while keeping the packaging and price the same, of course.  Also:  in the late 1970s/early 1980s -- around the same time my aunt gave my mom this recipe -- Canada switched (mostly) to the metric system of measurement, including from ounces to millilitres for food packaging -- so the quantities probably aren't exactly the same either...!)  

This summer, Loblaws and other major Canadian grocery chains announced they will be bringing frozen concentrated drinks back to their stores?? But so far, I haven't seen anything in the freezer cases at the supermarket where we usually shop. 

*** *** *** 

And now (because I know someone is bound to ask...!), here are the recipes (for what they're worth... good luck finding the ingredients!):  

"Asian" Coleslaw 

1 lb. bag cabbage/coleslaw mix (no preservatives) 
Chopped green onions to taste (1 or 2) 
2 packages ramen noodles (chicken flavour)(vegetable would probably work too ) 
½ cup sunflower seeds 
½ cup slivered almonds 

Mix the coleslaw mix & green onions together in a large container. 

Break up the noodles in the packages, before opening them. Set aside the flavouring packets that came with the noodles. Set a colander inside a large pot and and pour the dry noodles into the colander. Pour a kettle full of boiling water over the noodles (use enough water to cover the noodles) and let them sit & soften for about a minute/60 seconds. Lift the colander out of the pot, drain the noodles and add to the cabbage mix. 

Toast the almonds & seeds under the broiler for a few minutes & add to the mix. 

Make the dressing and pour it over the salad (mix together/shake to blend in a small jar or container): 

1 package of the ramen noodle seasoning 
¼ cup white sugar 
¼ cup vinegar 
½ cup oil 

*** *** *** 

Vodka Slush

20 oz. vodka 
12 oz. can of frozen orange juice 
12 oz. can of frozen lemonade 
1 (48 oz.) tin pineapple juice 
1 apricot nectar juice (sorry, the quantity is not given, but I don't think we used a very large container) 

Mix together and freeze in a large container. Add 7-Up (or Sprite) to 2 scoops of slush in a large glass.  

You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.

Friday, October 16, 2026

"The Women" by Kristin Hannah

"The Women" by Kristin Hannah is the November selection for my Childless Collective Nomo Book Club, and the first Kristin Hannah novel I've read. 

Frances (Frankie) McGrath is a newly graduated nurse, the sheltered daughter of an affluent, conservative California family who live near a naval base. Growing up, her father proudly regaled her and her older brother Finley with tales of the heroic military service of generations of their ancestors. The book opens in May 1966 at a farewell party for Finley, who is heading off to Vietnam, in a supposedly "safe" staff position.  

"Women can be heroes," Finley's military college buddy Rye tells Frankie, as they look at the uniformed family portraits displayed in her father's office. For Frankie, it's a revolutionary thought.  Inspired by the family photos, Rye's words and an encounter with a wounded soldier at the hospital where she works, and missing her brother, Frankie decides to enlist as an army nurse immediately after her 21st birthday. While her parents were proud of her brother's service, they're shocked -- and ashamed -- when she tells them what she's done. (Her father refuses to add her photo to the collection in his office -- he tells her he'll put up her wedding picture when she gets married.  That, in his view, is an appropriate achievement for a woman.)  Frankie is shocked by their reaction -- and it's only the first of many traumas and disappointments she endures over the next 15 years.   

I was on the fence about this book for the first few chapters. I was a little irked by Frankie's family's affluence, when so many men who served in Vietnam were black and/or came from poor families and had no easy way of dodging the draft (although Frankie's youthful naivete and privilege does create an effective contrast to the culture shock she feels as a newbie in wartime Vietnam!).  And Rye's comment to Frankie -- "Women can be heroes"  -- seemed a little too modern/progressive for a young military college graduate in 1966.  (Kristin Hannah was born in 1960 -- so she's about the same age as me, and was a pre-teen/young teenager when the war ended.)  

Once Frankie arrives in Vietnam, though, the story quickly became a lot more interesting. Like many readers, I'm sure, I'd never really thought much about the nurses who served in Vietnam and what their experiences must have been like, and this book was a real eye-opener in that respect.  About halfway through, Frankie returns home to America, and her difficult adjustment to civilian life was just as absorbing to read about -- perhaps even more so -- than the section about her war experiences. Like many of the male veterans of that war, Frankie suffered from PTSD (although it was not called that at the time), made worse by the people who shunned her, spat at her and called her "baby killer."  The staff at the hospital where she gets a job after the war ignore her deep experience and put her to work emptying bedpans, as if she was a candy striper.  Rubbing salt in these wounds, she learns her parents have told their friends she's been studying abroad in Italy (!).  And whenever she tells people that she served in Vietnam -- even those working in government agencies, who are supposed to be helping veterans -- they don't believe her:  "There are/were no women serving in Vietnam."  

However -- I thought the story was just a LITTLE too predictable at times, with just a few too many improbable coincidences and other plot developments: (**SPOILERS AHEAD**)  For example: I had a gut feeling Finley was not coming home, and sure enough, within minutes of Frankie telling her parents she's enlisted (!), the doorbell rings and two uniformed officers appear at the door with bad news for the family. I also KNEW she was going to run into Rye in Vietnam... and that he was going to show up in Hawaii when Frankie is there on leave.  I correctly guessed that Frankie was going to lose both of the men she loved in Vietnam (although I dared to hope she wouldn't... and I did not see the twists coming later in the book, although perhaps I should have!).  And as soon she encounters Henry Acevedo, I knew she/we would be seeing him again. A friend had told me (**SPOILER & ALI note**) that Frankie becomes pregnant later in the book and then has a miscarriage (possibly caused, at least in part, by her exposure to Agent Orange during the war) -- but the timing (what came just before the miscarriage, and what was scheduled to happen a few days later) was kind of unbelievable. 

The last chapter -- which takes place at the 1982 dedication of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington DC -- had me in tears. But it also had me exclaiming aloud, "Oh COME ON!!" (I mean, really??) 

Hannah has clearly done a ton of research -- but I sometimes felt like she was trying to cram in everything that ever happened to someone who served in Vietnam (and every notable 1960s event or experience) into Frankie's story.  (On the plus side, the frequent musical references reminded me that if there's ever a film version of this book, it's going to have a kickass soundtrack...!) 

All that said -- despite these flaws, I kept turning the pages, and read the bulk of it over just two days. (It's a long-ish book, almost 500 pages.) I particularly appreciated its depiction of complicated grief, loss and trauma, the toll that disenfranchised grief can take -- and the realization that, despite the attempts (and constant advice) to forget, you can't. Frankie learns (as so many of us eventually do) that that the best way to heal is to remember and to share your story with others, particularly those who have had similar experiences. (Although many aspects of Frankie's story were very different from mine, there was a LOT here I could relate to!) 

Overall, "The Women" was a compelling read, and a story that richly deserved to be (finally!) told. Kudos to Kristin Hannah for doing so!  

4 stars on both Goodreads and StoryGraph. 

Tip:  Have tissues handy -- especially for that last chapter. 

ALI note: As mentioned above, Frankie becomes unexpectedly pregnant after she returns home, but has a miscarriage, and remains childless.    

This was Book #31 read to date in 2026 (and Book #2 finished in October), bringing me to 78% of  my 2026 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 40 books. I am currently back on track to meet my goal! You can find reviews of all my books read to date in 2026 tagged as "2026 books."  

*** *** *** 

I was born in 1961, and I remember the Vietnam war pretty well, although I didn't always completely understand what it was all about (I think a lot of people today STILL don't understand what it was all about..!) -- poring over the newspaper headlines, hearing the latest casualty figures on the evening news (particularly when we were visiting my grandparents and watching John Chancellor on NBC).  I was 12 when the war ended in 1973, and 14 when the U.S. exited the country.  I vividly remember watching the footage of desperate Vietnamese people at the gates of the U.S. embassy in Saigon, clinging to the last helicopter lifting off the roof (and then dropping off as it flew away). 

My mother's small hometown in Minnesota lost several young men in Vietnam. At the county fair one summer in the early/mid-1970s, I was fascinated by a booth run by families of men missing in action (MIA), drawing attention to the issue, selling MIA/POW bracelets and handing out bumper stickers and buttons. (I had a couple of those in my scrapbook.)  A woman at the booth was a high school classmate of my uncle's, I think, married to a classmate of my mother's. Her younger brother was a helicopter pilot who went missing in action after his aircraft was shot down in early January 1973 -- a little over a month after he arrived in Vietnam, and less than three weeks before American involvement in the war came to an official end. He was 23 years old. One of my (second) cousins wore a bracelet for him. For a while there were rumours that at least some of the helicopter crew had survived and been taken prisoner, but he was officially declared killed in action in 1979. 

Years later, in 1994, an investigative team learned that a farmer who lived near where the helicopter was shot down had found a body and buried it in the village cemetery. The body was recovered and identified as the missing soldier from Mom's hometown, and returned to his family there.  He was finally buried there n 1996.   

His name is inscribed on the memorial wall in Washington, D.C.  If & when I ever get there (as I have wanted to do, ever since I was kid), his is the name I will look for. I won't be able to tell my mom I was there... but I know she'd like that. 

I was also reminded, as I read this book, that Phan Thi Kim Phuc -- the little girl who appears in one of the most famous photographs from the war -- lives in the Toronto area now, in the next town over from the one where we had our house for 26 years. She & her husband were granted political asylum in Canada in 1993, and became Canadian citizens in 1997.  It took her years to recover from the napalm burns she suffered, and her body is still covered in scars. Today, she's 63 years old, a UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador and an advocate for child victims of war. 

*** *** *** 

I haven't read a whole lot about the war before this, but I did read and love "The Long Gray Line" by Rick Atkinson, about several members of the West Point Class of 1966 and what happened to them over the next 25 years. As you can imagine, Vietnam figures prominently in the story, including the fight to build the memorial wall. It's been a while since I read it, but I remember the ending had me in tears. 

I can also highly, highly recommend Ken Burns's documentary series on the war, which ran on PBS a few years back, and which I wrote about here. 

(There's a scene in the book where vets protesting against the war throw their medals on the steps of the Capitol in Washington D.C.  I was reminded of a scene in Burns's documentary where one vet describes throwing his medal away at this or a similar protest. Back in his hometown, he was criticized for doing this -- and his father, who had never had much to say about his service, stood up for him and said something to the effect of "It's his medal, he earned it, he can do what he wants with it."  Recalling this  years later on camera, the vet gave a quiet smile and said, "Way to go, Dad.") 

While I was reading this, I was also reminded a lot of "M*A*S*H*" -- the original 1968 book, the 1970 movie and the long-running (1972-83) TV series -- which was set during the Korean War, but widely interpreted to be a thinly-disguised stand-in for Vietnam. 

I've also seen several movies about or touching on the Vietnam war -- most notably "Apocalypse Now, which my first-year university film studies prof assigned us all to see, shortly after it came out, in early 1980.  A classmate & I went to see it in a grand old movie palace with a big screen, and took notes for class as we watched!  

Monday, October 12, 2026

#MicroblogMondays: Mid-October odds & ends

  • Recently (a few weeks ago now), my 87-year-old dad landed (back) in the hospital overnight. :(  He says he FEELS fine, but recently had some bloodwork done with a few concerning results, so they asked him to come in for observation. They wanted to keep him longer and do more tests, but he talked them into discharging him -- the doctor who asked him to come in didn't see him until later the next day (which pissed him off), and he was bored out of his mind -- no TV (you have to order it and pay for it), he's not a reader, he doesn't scroll on his phone. (Which is not a BAD thing! but...)  I'm hoping they will monitor his bloodwork more frequently from now on... (they will if my sister has anything to say about it to them!  lol).  
  • I recently learned a(nother!!) longtime online friend (from outside the ALI/CNBC world) lost her husband, very suddenly.  :(  He was 63.  I know I'm now at the age when things like this start to happen more frequently to my peers -- but seriously??  -- it's been far too often over the past year or two for my comfort or liking...  :(  
  • In a similar vein:  I was thinking about a few former coworkers and wondering what's happened to them, so I Googled a few names. Up popped an obituary for one of them, from 2019.  :(  (That'll teach me to be curious...)  "Suddenly," it said, while out biking on a country road with a friend. I don't know how old he was (and the obituary didn't say), but he couldn't have been that much older than me, probably in his late 50s/early 60s at the time.  He'd lost his wife five years before that (!), and had a daughter. :(  
  • I was scrolling through my general Facebook feed when I spotted something that stopped me in my tracks. I follow a couple of groups & pages from the town where I went to junior & senior high school (and where some of my classmates still live). Probably because of that, a post popped up from someone there.  (I don't know them personally, but their surname was shared by one of my classmates, suggesting they're related in some way.)   
    • It was a photo of a large, beautiful memorial wall, in a garden dedicated to infants. The memorial includes plaques with names & dates (I counted 30 -- on one side, not sure if there are also plaques on the other side). It's located in a lovely local park I remember well. How nice!!  (Especially just as Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month was starting!) 
  • Michael Hughes at The Full Stop podcast & community blogs at "Married and Childless" with his wife Vickie, and recently posted a critique of the fertility industry -- based on a speech he gave last year at a conference of the Fertility Society of Australia and New Zealand:  "You Can Always Do IVF!- How the IVF industry misleads society, sells false hope, and abandons patients."  Well worth a read!  
  • I absolutely loved this Substack post from Jennifer Nevergole at "Presence Inside Absence," related to one of my favourite subjects -- genealogy, and uncovering the untold stories of the childless people (and especially the women) in our family trees: "Heading into the season of the unseen." 
  • Nora McInerny, whose books about grief & loss I love (look them up!), writes beautifully about her "little shadow" on Subtack. 
  • Adrienne Clarkson, age 87, former governor-general of Canada (and, before that, a CBC journalist/broadcaster I well remember, going back to my childhood when she co-hosted an afternoon talk show called "Take 30"), recently spoke out on the lack of endometriosis care in Canada to The Globe & Mail.  
    • Quote:  “If it was something that was in men’s testicles, it would have been handled ages ago.” 
    • Clarkson suffered from endo as a young woman in the 1960s, but was able to have children. 
    • One of her three daughters, Chloe, died of SIDS, when she was 9 months old. Clarkson wrote about the loss and the grief she felt in her 2006 memoir, "Heart Matters."  (I had a copy -- which may still be lurking in one of my boxes somewhere? -- and while I never read the entire thing, I did read that chapter, multiple times, after Katie's stillbirth.)  (Sadly, she has been estranged from her other two daughters since she divorced their father in the 1970s.)   
  • Anne Helen Petersen flagged this Substack post by Kate Lindsay in her recent Sunday list of links, predicting the end of short-form content and the return of long-form. May it be so! 
You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.