Fun With Words: Contronyms
The word contronym (also antagonym) is used to refer to words that, by some freak of language evolution, are their own antonyms.
- custom - usual, special
- dust - add fine particles, remove fine particles
- fast - quick, unmoving
Shades of Milk and Honey
I finished Shades of Milk and Honey
My rating: 
The Sun Over Breda
I finished The Sun Over Breda
Inigo and the Captain are in Breda, fighting for their king against the Dutch heretics. Bravery, honor, and imperfection -- and a really good story.
My rating:
"Surrender of Breda" by Diego Velazquez
The Morning News Tournament of Books
The Morning News Tournament of Books - Presented by Field Notes.
Apheresis – April 9, 2012
I watched True Grit during a noon-time platelet donation. My BP just made it under the line.
India Black and the Widow of Windsor
I finished India Black and the Widow of Windsor
My rating: 
Central Coast for the BMR
I'm at the maximum accrual limit, so I've been losing vacation time for most of this year and the last few months of last year. A couple of weeks ago I decided it was time to actually take a vacation day and go on a long motorcycle ride, and my boss approved my request to take today off of work. I planned a ride up to the Central Coast to bag some post office bonus locations for the Big Money Rally.
I prepped the bike yesterday -- got the water bottle cleaned up, cleaned out the tank bag, and set out the heated vest, the SPOT tracker, and the V1. Using Carole's "Barbie to Grandmas" rule*, I packed up a change of undergarments and a toothbrush, so that I'd be sure to make it home.
Creston Post Office
I left around 8:15am, heading up I-5 for the first stop at Shandon. The temps dropped noticeably going over the Grapevine, and I was bummed that the sign at the top said "Tejon Pass" instead of "Tejon Summit", which would qualify it as a BMR bonus. Gas in Lost Hills at I-5 and SR-41, and a quick run on SR-41 got me to Shandon in good time. SR-41 from Shandon to Creston was a blast, and I had fun tracking down all the BMR bonus post offices up and down the Central Coast. I got to be pretty efficient at stopping the bike in the right place, clipping the BMR placard to the elastic cord on the top of my Pelican case, taking the photo, and sending it off to my personal BMR submission e-mail address.
A couple of the post offices on the list were way off from their published coordinates, but that just added to the fun.
After the last post office in Halcyon (near Arroyo Grande), I stopped for Tri-tip and enchiladas at Pappy's in Santa Maria. I debated between SR-154 and the US-101 loop, and opted for the 154, but I had trouble with my shield fogging so I had to keep my speeds reasonable.
My last stop was in Ventura, first for gas (28 miles into reserve...) and then for the bonus location at the Channel Islands National Park visitor center. From there, I slogged back home, keeping it within 20 miles or so of the posted limit. 680 miles later, I rolled into the drive-way at 9:45pm.
* If Carole took her Barbie's to her Grandma's house on Sunday, invariably there'd be plenty of things to do and she wouldn't actually play with them. But if she left her Barbie's at home, she'd be bored, and wished she had brought them.
Word of the day: Fremdschamen
Fremdschamen - external shame you feel when someone you care about is embarrassed. (German)
On Target
I finished On Target
I found this much more enjoyable than the first book in the series. One of my complaints with that book was the overuse of the main character's various names, and even though he gets a new handle in this book, the editing was a lot tighter, and the names were used sparingly and in context. The action is still there - almost non-stop - and the plot is more believable and structured more cleanly. We're still not in Adam Hall territory, but we're making good progress.
My rating:
Scumbag Justin
Last week before Carole left to go up to Spokane, the handle on the cold water faucet in the front bathtub broke off. As a temporary fix, I removed the handle, and unscrewed the handle that changes the water from the main spout to the shower, so it could be moved over to the cold water faucet when needed.
On Thursday I went to Red Plumbing Supply to get a new handle, and on Saturday afternoon I put all the parts and tools for the job on the bathroom sink, planning to install it when I took my shower Sunday morning.
When I woke up Sunday, I found that Justin had installed everything overnight. He even put the covers over the screw holes.
The Masqueraders
I finished a second re-read of The Masqueraders by Georgette Heyer this evening. Still one of my favorites. See my original review.
The Gray Man
I just finished The Gray Man
I picked up this book because someone on the Quiller mailing list recommended Greaney as someone with a style similar to Adam Hall's. There are some similarities, but reading Greaney made me appreciate the brilliance of Adam Hall even more. I noticed a few things that annoyed me somewhat while reading this book:
- Throughout the book, the protagonist is referred to by three different names: Court, his first name; Gentry, his last name; and The Gray Man, his nom de guerre. No problem - except when the author uses all three in the same paragraph.
McVee was the only man on Gentry’s left as the Gray Man crouched behind the pallet and faced the cockpit doors, thirty feet away. Dulin was up by the bulkhead wall near the doors, and the other three operators were ahead and to his right. Court rolled left, emerged from behind the pallet with his M4 raised, and fired a long burst at McVee. The man’s goggled face slammed back against the wall, and his H&K dropped away from his fingertips.
- Throughout the book, low-level operatives who specialize in locating and/or tracking a target are called pavement artists. This arcane term is repeated far too often throughout the book.
- It's too obvious that the author is an aficionado of high-end weaponry, by the loving descriptions he overuses throughout.
I look forward to the other books in the series, but let's be clear -- Gentry is no Quiller, and Greaney is no Hall.
My rating:
Naughty in Nice
I finished reading Naughty In Nice
It was the first book I read on my new Nook Simple Touch. I love my Sony, but the contrast on the Nook was a lot easier on my eyes.
My rating:
Purity of Blood
I finished Purity of Blood
Captain Alatriste and his young ward Íñigo are back with more intrigue from Madrid in the early 17th century. Honor-bound to help an old friend, the captain narrowly escapes a trap, but Inigo is caught up by the captain's enemies who are working with the Inquisition. The story is told by 13-year old Íñigo, who adds glimpses into his future and the captain's, including his crush Angélica, the daughter of Alatriste's sworn enemy:
Up Calle de Toledo came a very familiar black coach, one with no escutcheon on the door and a stern coachman driving the two mules. Slowly, as if in a dream, I set aside paper, pen, ink, and drying sand, and stood rooted as if the carriage were an apparition that any wrong movement on my part might dispel. As the coach pulled up to where I stood, I saw the little window, which was open, with the curtains unfastened. First I saw a perfect white hand, and then the blond curls and the sky-blue eyes that Diego Velázquez later painted: the girl who had led me to within a breath of the gallows. And as the carriage rolled past the Tavern of the Turk, Angélica de Alquézar looked straight at me, in a way—I swear by all that is holy—that sent a chill from the tip of my spine to my bewitched and furiously pounding heart. On an impulse, without considering what I was doing, I placed my hand on my chest, honestly and truly lamenting that I was not wearing the gold chain with the amulet that she had given me to ensure a sentence of death, and which, had the Holy Office not taken it from me, I swear by Christ’s blood I would have continued to wear around my neck with besotted pride.
Angélica understood the gesture. Her smile, that diabolic expression I so adored, lighted her lips. And then with a fingertip, she brushed them in something very like a kiss. And Calle de Toledo, and Madrid—the entire sphere—vibrated with a delicious harmony that made me feel jubilantly alive.
I stood watching, still as stone, long after the carriage disappeared up the street. Then, choosing a new quill, I smoothed the point against my doublet and finished putting down don Francisco’s sonnet.
Soul, in which a godhead was enclosed,
Veins, through which a humor’s fire arose,
Marrow, the seat of earthly passion’s reign,
Will fly the body, but quiddity retain;
Though ash, they will have sensibility,
Be dust enamored through eternity.
Great quote from The Philadelphia Story
I was watching a TCM showing of The Philadelphia Story, and loved this great line from Cary Grant, talking about the sleazy tabloid publisher Sidney Kidd's sense of entitlement:
The world's his oyster, with an R in every month...
In Robert Osborne's intro, he mentioned that Grant never won a competitive Oscar, which seems scandalous.
Pages
Recent Posts
- Fun With Words: Contronyms
- Shades of Milk and Honey
- The Sun Over Breda
- The Morning News Tournament of Books
- Apheresis – April 9, 2012
Categories
- Albums
- Bookshelf
- Doing
- Family & Friends
- FJR1300
- Listening/Watching
- Main
- Pet Peeves
- Politics
- Recipes
- Rides
- Site News
- Sports
- Technology
- Uncategorized