It’s been a slow-moving year at The Global Reader, but I’m still here, and still reading. Cooking, not so much but that’s for another post on another day…
I hope to map many more miles in 2017; it’s at the top of my resolution list, and I’m optimistic my actions will match my goals.
Right away in January I’ll be reading about Japan, and then circling back to a couple of previously-visited countries. Singapore was one of my first stops, and I totally dropped the ball. That’s ridiculous; words will be read, and food will be cooked. I’ll also stop back by Guinea-Bissau. I’m a much better book sleuth now, and it’s a place that I want to know more about than something written 25 years ago…
So, those are a few of my thoughts about this blog that I care about very much. Thanks for following along this journey with me. I appreciate the time you spend here, and hope to make it a more vibrant place to visit. Happy New Year!!!
My husband and I have been together for over 20 years. We were certainly not brought together in our bonds of love through food; when we first met, I was a vegetarian with 50 recipes for lentil loaf, and he existed on the All-American Male diet of hamburgers and pizzas. Then, about a decade ago, I woke up one day and wanted BBQ chicken and that was that.
Through the years, my husband has developed a much more adventurous palate, and happily joins me on my culinary adventures. And he has recently made his own dietary turn in a different direction: he’s now a pretty-much-all-of-the-time vegetarian. Which I love!
We are both ready to take much more responsibility for everything that we eat; where it comes from, who makes it happen, and what are the real costs of what’s on our plates. Life and death are all part of the cycle of existence, but does some other being really need to suffer so that I can get a cheap cheeseburger? Maybe not so much…
So, while neither of us are staking any permanent claims in “I-am-this diet” territory, we’re going to flow where this much more humane stream takes us. There will still be periodic posts about chicken soup, and other yummy things that once walked around. Just not anyway near as much.
The Sahara is a big deal. Geographically, environmentally, psychically; it’s a pivot point that life on this planet revolves around. Huge in scale, it’s the largest hot desert in the world (Antarctica wins the big prize, but that’s all cold, all of the time). If it were its own country, it would be between Brazil and China in size. People have lived there for millennia, but have never conquered it; it’s almost always the other way around. It will absorb you, cover you up, obliterating your presence. Lovely at times, but truly deadly.
I think I’ve daydreamed about it my whole life. It’s also been a persistent character in my literary travels. So, with Mali a few stops back, and Niger and Djibouti on the horizon, I figured it was a good time to try to get a sense of place. I couldn’t have picked a better book: Sahara Unveiled by William Langewiesche. Satisfyingly spare prose, and even more sparse emotions. He doesn’t view the desert or the people that live there as enemies, through a prism of exoticism, or as some sort of harsh mystery to figure out; he states what he finds, and is very succinct in expressing his sometimes mixed emotions. I came away still wanting to see it with my own eyes, but with a better sense of what is really there.