I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo for my book group, which now looks like it is defunct or reshaping or something. Otherwise, I was unsure about this one, because it’s a thriller and I don’t usually read thrillers. On the other hand, it’s also a bestseller and got rave reviews in a way that made it interesting to me despite its genre. Then again, it’s long, very long — 590 pages. It’s not that that’s ever stopped me from reading a book that interested me, but I was unsure about this one.

So now that I’ve read it, what did I think? My thinking didn’t change much at all. I still don’t like thrillers that much, and there were parts of this book that I found distasteful, like the violence. It made me wonder if the late author, who died in his early 50s, was a mysogynist, a misanthrope, both, or neither. I wonder that about just about everyone who writes thrillers.

I also understood why this book was so well reviewed. It brings in complex family relations, ethical questions, financial intrigue, and — something I always love – unusual characters with depth. I thought one of the two protagonists, Lisbeth Salander, was so improbable as to have stepped in from the fantasy/horror genre, but it was fun to follow her. Much of the violence can be skimmed (not skipped), too.  So I will recommend this to anyone who ever reads thrillers, even if they’re not your favorite genre.

As for animal violence, Larsson unfortunately fell into the usual trap of demonstrating the fact that serial killers do horrible things to animals, too. In this case, it’s a cat. Again, it’s skimmable but not skippable. There’s also a pigeon murder, damage done to a cow, and a rampage through a pet store that doesn’t end well. These comprise a small portion of what’s in the book, but they’re bad enough that I have to declare this book UNSAFE for animal lovers.

The last time we visited Dave’s relatives in New Jersey, we found a lovely little restaurant near the Haddonfield Inn, where we stay when we go up for these trips. Unfortunately, its owners saw fit to change it over to a pizza place. I do not go to New Jersey for pizza. So the night after Thanksgiving, we returned to an old favorite, Nunzio, an Italian restaurant in Collingswood, New Jersey.

We’ve never had anything less than a wonderful meal at Nunzio’s. We have to bring our own wine, but that’s not a problem — there’s no corkage fee, and it seems like they expect most people to bring something. This visit, I had the salad with gorgonzola and pear, followed by the pollo boscaiola, both of which were excellent. Dave had a different salad and the saltimbocca. He and I shared the doppio ciocolatta for dessert, which we loved. So if you find yourself in Collingswood, NJ, Nunzio’s is the place to go.

I don’t remember how I discovered Jennie Shortridge, but this is the third book of hers I’ve read, and it’s the third I’ve enjoyed. I have a copy of her new book, which just came out, and I’m fully expecting to like it as well.

Love and Biology is the story of Mira Serafino, mother, wife, daughter, friend, teacher, and runaway. Because just when it seems that things are as close to perfect as they’re going to get, perpetually rebelling young adult daughter notwithstanding, Mira learns that her husband is having an emotional affair that is probably also a physical affair. She cracks up, sort of, and after allowing her favorite of the family’s three dogs to leap into the car with her, begins driving until said car breaks down in Seattle.

Seattle = coffee, unless you think Seattle = Microsoft. Let’s stick with the first definition. Mira did.

Mira becomes the manager of The Coffeeshop at the Center of the Universe, meets some people, has sex with men other than her husband, gets a new haircut, and otherwise deals with her new situation by refusing to confront it directly. Her daughter won’t talk to her, she won’t talk to her husband, and the fact that the book even has an ending seems like nothing short of a miracle, at least through most of the story. However, few stalemates last forever, and Shortridge doesn’t tip her hand very far in advance as to how she’s reconciling this one.

Thea, the daughter, annoyed the hell out of me, but I liked most of the other characters, who were fairly vivid. I also liked the way Shortridge unravelled Mira’s self-discovery and changes. The story moves slowly but never bogs down, and so I’m recommending this book.

As for animals, Patsy Cline is the dog who goes to Seattle with Mira, and Patsy does just fine. Two other dogs are fosters that also end up with good outcomes. So this book is completely SAFE for animal lovers. Enjoy!

This is a good book, and I’m recommending it, but it isn’t at all like Julia Glass’s first two novels, Three Junes and The Whole World Over, both of which I reviewed favorably. I See You Everywhere is much darker, and more serious, than Glass’s previous work. This isn’t a criticism, but it’s important information for anyone who might read this book.

It begins lightly, however, and at first I thought it was going to be one of those novels about sisters that makes me glad I have brothers instead (thanks for not being girls, John and Steve!). With rather unexceptional parents, Louisa is the older daughter who is expected to be good at everything (been there), who wants a more conventional life, and who’s not much of a risk-taker. Clem, short for Clement, is 4 years younger, wilder, uninterested in settling down despite the occasional love interest, and a devoted animal lover. Louisa becomes the editor of an art magazine after giving up on being an artist herself, and Clem makes her career as a field biologist, starting with oceanic mammals and ending up following bears in Wyoming.

So they have interesting lives, they bicker, and they turn to each other for comfort even though they don’t understand each other very well. Eventually, the bickering turns into their way of communicating, and they understand each other all too well. It’s an intriguing psychological journey. It’s also very sad throughout most of the book. Both sisters will break your heart at different times, one more than the other. Books don’t make me cry, but if that’s ever happened to you, it’s entirely possible here. You are warned.

And this is a beautifully written, well-told story with great depth. I strongly recommend it, but not for when you’re already blue or want something light.

As for animals, it’s heartbreaking on that front as well. When I read books for this blog, I stick tape flags on the pages with relevant animal activity. I ran out of tape flags while reading this book. Animals die in I See You. Some are mentioned in passing, a few are characters. And yet there are some lovely passages relating to wildlife, like the injured hawk whose mate was there waiting for her when she was released after wildlife rehabilitators helped her through a broken wing. There are cats, horses, seals, birds, animals grown for food, and bears. One of the few light sequences has to do with foxhounds, a devoted caretaker, and puppies, in which Glass shows her characters’ capacity for warmth and compassion. But the bears — oh, the bears will tear at your soul. That’s not to say they all come to a bad end, but they will break your heart nonetheless. After considerable thought, I am declaring this book MOSTLY UNSAFE for animal lovers. I still recommend it for animal lovers, but go into it with your eyes open. This isn’t a beach book.

As usual, we stayed at La Posada in Winslow, Arizona in order to break up the long drive between Santa Fe and Phoenix, dining once again in The Turquoise Room, where I had a magnificent churro lamb sampler. Then it was over the Mogollon Rim, past the Mazatzal Mountains, into greater Phoenix.

Phoenix is sprawling and lacks the kind of urban neighborhoods I prefer. I just go there because that’s where Dave’s baseball seminar takes place, and since the seminar anchors the vacation, I go there once a year. But there were some pleasant surprises this time. First, we discovered a delightful and affordable French restaurant, Petite Maison, where we had a lovely meal  on Thursday, then went back on Sunday because we liked it so much. This is a place to rediscover escargot, dessert souffles, and basic French entrees. It’s all good, and we hope to go back next time we’re in Phoenix.

The next night, I caught some pictures of the setting sun off of the hotel outdoor walkway:

And on Saturday night, we  went to the all-star game of the Arizona Fall League, which is a developmental league for promising young players who are expected to make the major league. I used this as an occasion to play with the stop-action feature on my camera, which was fun. Here are a few shots, first of batters, then of a pitcher in slo-mo. It was fun! 

And these only include every other shot, so I actually had a much finer level of stop-action photography.

So that’s it for the vacation. In a few days, I’ll resume the book reviews.

Not all pueblos are alike. This is true both culturally and in terms of how they present themselves today. The Acoma Pueblo people seem to have decided that if there is money in tourism, they are going after it. In addition to the usual roadside casino, gas station, and convenience store, the Acoma have a visitors’ center, museum, restaurant, gift shop, and guided tour. This obviously required an investment in infrastructure, which can be a gamble or a leap of faith. It also provides jobs and, from a tourist’s perspective, offers insight into Acoma history and culture. Economically, this all seems to have worked. The Acoma plow their casino and tourism income back into the tribe’s social and business ventures, resulting in an unemployment rate lower than that of the overall United States and a fairly high (75%) rate of young people who go on to college. Our wonderful tour guide, Kevin, is taking a break from his studies but hopes to someday be a college professor. But I get ahead of myself.

The Acoma Pueblo village itself, aka Sky City, is based on top of a mesa and has been continually inhabited since the 11th century at least. Kevin spent almost 2 hours guiding our small clutch of tourists, showing us first the mission and next the living area. There is no electricity in the village, though most of the villagers appear to have cars or trucks, and there are port-a-potties everywhere in lieu of indoor plumbing. Not all of the homes are continuously occupied, but they are passed down matrilinearly, with a provision for families that have only sons. Homes cannot be sold; if they are abandoned, they are allowed to stay unused. I can’t possibly summarize everything Kevin told us during the 2 hours, but here are some pictures:

Gordon, our host in Taos, cautioned us to not take “white guilt” to the pueblos, and I agree. They have other things to deal with and really don’t need us dumping our desire to be forgiven or whatever on them. They’re moving forward, and while history is important, it’s also not what they’re dealing with right now. Being our shrinks is not a priority with them. So we took in the information we were given, asked questions, took photos (for an extra fee), and bought a small piece of pottery. I like this little pot because the artist used horsehair to create the black background. His design around the top of the pot begins with a roadrunner and includes a representation of mountains.

This side trip was one of the highlights of our visit. The Acoma Pueblo is only about an hour outside of Albuquerque, so we’ll have opportunities to return on future trips. It’s a must-see, and I’m not sure once is enough.

Next up: I actually have something nice to say about Phoenix for a change.

Our last day in Taos — which was only our second day in Taos, as this was a very “jumpy” trip — had us leaving Gordon, Maggie, their pets, and their lovely B&B and starting off to see the Rio Grande River Gorge. It’s deep, and scenic:

From there, we visited the Taos Pueblo, which is just on the edge of the community of Taos. In fact, according to Gordon, the Taos Pueblo sold some of their land to the community, with the stipulation that should any member of the Taos Pueblo tribe be accused of a crime in Taos, that person will be turned over to the tribe for discipline instead of being subject to local laws. The day of our visit, the pueblo was only open to visitors for a few hours due to the fact that there had been a death in the tribe. While guided tours were an option, Dave and I chose to wander around ourselves in the limited area that was open to visitors.

From what I understand, the Taos Pueblo people keep their religion and language secret. Only a few members of the tribe live in the old pueblo buildings, which lack modern plumbing and electricity. I believe those tribal members feel they have a calling to live there, whereas most Taos Pueblo live in more standard homes. Here are some pictures; the dog appeared to be the “rez dog” that dominated all the other dogs in the area.

We then hit the road, heading south to Santa Fe along the High Road to Taos (which is what it’s called even when you’re taking it from Taos). The High Road is scenic:

But the fun part of the High Road was discovering the Sugar Nymphs bistro in the small town of Penasco. What a delightful place for lunch! And it is housed in the same building as the Wise Fool theater, which appears to be a kind of arts theater, educational center, and community gathering place.

Once in Santa Fe, we landed at our inn of choice, the Pueblo Bonito, where we were warmly greeted by Strelsa and Phyllis, two of the innkeeping staff. Dinner that night was unspectacular, and the next morning we decided to take it easy. We began by perusing the jewelry for sale by various Indians on the plaza. I had already decided I didn’t need anything, but if I saw something I felt I couldn’t live without, I’d at least inquire as to price.

You know what? I can indeed live without that necklace I wanted, being that it cost $3500. In my world, that’s not a necklace, it’s a big chunk of a car downpayment. Beauty has its limits. On the other hand, I was massively disappointed by the redecorating at La Fonda, where we had lunch. The beautiful turquoise trim around the windows has been replaced with white, which looks fine from a distance but weak close up. As I said to a staff member who also intensely disliked the change, yes, it’s only a building, but it’s also a matter of beauty, and beauty has value. I think the recent redecorating diminished the value of the place, and I look forward to a restoration of the much lovelier turquoise. When we later went out to dinner at The Shed with our friends Bonnie and Pat, they agreed, as did some people we spoke to at Pueblo Bonito. Fortunately, The Shed has not changed. It’s perfect as it is, and its owners know not to mess with it.

One of the highlights of the visit to Santa Fe was the New Mexico History Museum, which opened just a few months ago. This is where I started to feel like I might someday understand New Mexico, to the extent that it’s possible. As I said to Dave, you can make a visit to New Mexico almost like a visit to another country, what with the Indian and Hispanic influences. An important thing to keep in mind is that the Hispanic culture in New Mexico is home-grown, coming from Spanish settlers (or invaders) centuries ago rather than being imported from a Latin American country. The museum’s Telling New Mexico exhibit brought that all together for me. I left feeling like I was just beginning to get a sense of what I didn’t know, and where I needed to go in order to learn more.

The next day, that process moved forward with the subject of my next post, the Acoma Pueblo.

Our vacation pattern is to go to a very specific area of the country and get to know it thoroughly, which is what we’re doing with our multiple trips to New Mexico. To this end, we left Albuquerque by way of Route 550, looping to the north to Route 4, which took us through the town of Jemez Springs. There we stopped for lunch at the Laughing Lizard Cafe and toured the Jemez State Monument. This was the first trip in which we began immersing ourselves in the pueblo cultures, and the Monument was a good place to visit in that regard.

And yes, there was snow on the ground. Next, we saw the Valles Caldera National Preserve, where we saw elk:

Shortly after that, we arrived at Bandelier National Monument, which was basically a hit-and-run visit.  We will be returning when we can spend all day.

From there, we headed to Taos, where we stayed at the Little Tree B&B, with our hosts Gordon and Maggie, their 4 dogs, and their 2 cats. We were in the Spruce Room, which has its own hot tub. That was great! And Gordon and Maggie sent us to a wonderful restaurant that first night, El Meze. This is a new favorite — we absolutely loved it. We shared hummus, the buffalo tamale, chicharrones, and the cardamon doughnuts. It was all glorious.

The next day, we headed out to the Wild Rivers Recreation Area, where we walked around a bit and took photos of the scenery. We followed that by a drive through the Enchanted Circle, deemed one of the most beautiful routes in the country:

Finally, we had dinner at Joseph’s Table in Taos. It was an amazing place, in one of the most comfortable and beautiful spaces I’ve ever been in, with absolutely great food. Saying we liked El Meze better is like grading Joseph’s 98 percent and El Meze 98.1 percent. Both restaurants were extraordinary, and we were fortunate to have the opportunity to visit them.

In the next vacation post: Taos Pueblo, the Sugar Nymphs, a new museum, and Santa Fe.

Sarah and Rol at Adobe Nido in Albuquerque are the best innkeepers in America. Period, end of discussion. We absolutely love them, and it would never occur to us to visit New Mexico without spending at least one night at their B&B. So that’s where we landed after our day flopping around the Denver airport, and we began the next morning with their usual excellent breakfast and their usual excellent advice on where to go and what to do. We’re pretty good at crafting our own agenda, but we’ve also learned to listen to the experts. We always listen to Sarah and Rol.

So on this visit, we ended up first at the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center. It gave us a good, quick overview of the 19 pueblos in New Mexico, with a focus on the 9 northern pueblos. Next, we visited the National Hispanic Cultural Center, which was a bit more interesting simply because of the impending Day of the Dead celebration. The Center also had an exhibit of Cuban artists, which was fascinating both for the art and for the fact that this was only the second time since this country’s ban on travel to Cuba that Cuban art has been brought here. Anyway, I’ve long been fascinated by Day of the Dead observances, in which people honor the dead by creating small altars for them, with their pictures and emblems of things they loved. The Center had lots of altars made by school classes throughout Albuquerque. With young children, of course, you’ll get mostly grandparents and pets. Quite sadly, there were also soldiers who died in Iraq and Afghanistan. The high schoolers were so typically adolescent it was kind of funny, though. One altar was full of artists and writers and actors — who ever thought Shakespeare, Salvador Dali, and Farrah Fawcett would be lumped together like that? And another high school altar was a display of t-shirt jersey, cut into rectangles, with causes of death written on them. It was very soulful, goth, and 16. But I love Day of the Dead. I love the tradition of honoring loved ones, and I love the imagery. In the spirit of the latter, I bought a Day of the Dead nightlight, shown below unlit and lit:

Cool, huh? We also picked up a couple of Day of the Dead wine bottle stoppers, which are basically crystal laughing skulls. Then we had lunch in the Center’s cafeteria and headed off to the Sandia mountains for a bit of walking. This was mostly a continuation of my camera testing, but we encountered a beautiful dog and saw some mountains and plants of note:

Later that night, we found ourselves at Zinc once again. This is a favorite restaurant, as is the more casual Flying Star Cafe. Given only one dinner in Albuquerque, though, we chose Zinc, and it was absolutely worth it. Next time, we hope to sit at the bar surrounding the kitchen area and watch the chefs do their magic.

Coming up: Jemez Pueblo, Taos, the Enchanted Circle, and dueling up-and-coming chefs!

On our most recent trip, we discovered two awesome new restaurants, a national park we’ll definitely return to, a lovely B&B in Taos, a couple of splendid museums, and an amazing tour of an Indian pueblo.

But first, we had to get from the Washington DC area to Albuquerque through Denver via Frontier Airlines. That proved a bit difficult.

Despite the fact that this is the second trip in a row where we had problems, and the second trip in a row where we took Frontier, I remain fond of the airline. Last June, they took a plane out of operation due to safety issues, and I’d rather be inconvenienced than endangered, even if it screws up my arrival time, which it did. This time, it was weather at the Denver airport that caused our connecting flight to be cancelled. Frontier booked us on the next flight out. No complaints there, either.

But instead of a tight connection of just under an hour, we had lots of time to kill at the Denver airport. For dinner, we returned to the Chop House, which we first visited in June. Stuckattheairport.com mentions it, and here’s the website for the place. We each had a beer and the filet mignon (to make up for not having dinner in Albuquerque), and we shared the chocolate cake. The Chop House chain should keep an eye on Craig, the maitre ‘d, who was a friendly presence, well in charge of the hungry masses of frazzled fliers. If I were running a restaurant, I’d consider him promotable.

We then discovered a quiet space for reading, well away from the normal airport chaos. I have difficulty describing how to maneuver in the interior of large spaces, so I’ll just say that if you’re ever at DIA and want to chill out, investigate what’s at the end of the various escalators, where you might be pleasantly suprised by a sort of reading deck.

Finally, we were off to Albuquerque, although it was later than scheduled and there was a problem with the ticket-taking that required a head count. Our concern was that we’d arrive too late to pick up our rental car. Instead, we got to the Hertz counter about 15 minutes before their scheduled closing time. There, we were greeted by a large African American man with a warm, calming presence, just what tired and cranky travelers need. In fact, I nominate this man to play God in the next Hollywood movie that has such a role. This guy also seemed highly promotable, and I hope Hertz appreciates him. We sure did. He took care of us quickly, and we headed off to the B&B, arriving a minute after 1 a.m.

Next up: Albuquerque, the world’s best B&B, Zinc, and the Day of the Dead.