A speculative mind

  Tis the season of gratitude. It is time to reflect on my situation in life. It’s easy to complain about things. Everybody has challenges. Everyone is touched by sadness. But you have a choice whether to dwell on the negatives or be grateful for the positives. Dwelling on the bad does not make your problems go away. It does not make you feel better. It makes you feel worse. It is unhealthy to hold on to anger, regret, worry. In short, there is no reason to do it. Yet, it is human nature to do so. A good tool in the arsenal to fight against that tendency is to practice gratitude.   Count your blessings, as they say. You don’t have to be religious to practice gratitude. You can thank God, or fate or the laws of thermodynamics. The important thing is to recognize the good things that have come to you. In my case I can be thankful that I grew up in a caring family and had good friends. I never wanted for food or medicine or anything truly important. I have been able to pursue creative o

  I have a Biology degree and at one time, an active teaching certificate. But other than some stints as a substitute, the teaching career never panned out for me. I had done a variety of other jobs to make ends meet. When a summer job came available at the Cape Perpetua Visitor Center, it sounded ideal. I would be leading nature walks, giving campground presentations, and answering questions from the visitors. The job title was “Naturalist.” I was finally using my biology degree, and some of the teacher training as well. I loved that job. But it was a summer job. When my boss John mentioned an opportunity for me, working with someone from the Ranger Station placing structures in streams, I was less than enthusiastic. It sounded like cold, wet, hard work.   I am a creature of comfort. I have endless respect for loggers, fishermen, and farmers etc., but I know I could never be one. It’s just not in me. Yet, I felt like this was an opportunity for me to keep working a few weeks more. I

  I don’t know how many years it has been since I read the Island of Dr. Moreau by H. G. Wells, but it has been a long time. Other than the basic premise (mad scientist creates human hybrids with a predictable bad outcome) I don’t remember much. But I was intrigued by seeing The Daughter of Doctor Moreau in the library. It was written by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, who wrote Mexican Gothic which I read last year and found satisfyingly creepy. This one, I would say is less creepy. It is told from the point of view of two characters: Carlotta, the doctor’s “natural” (bastard) daughter, and Montgomery, the doctors hired mayordomo. Montgomery comes to the doctor’s ranch with demons of his own: alcoholism, debt, and relentless bad luck. Carlotta has lived a sheltered life. She is sweet and innocent. Montgomery is far from innocent, but he knows right from wrong, and usually chooses right, even at his own expense. The doctor himself is not an evil man, but he is self-centered and egotistical.