I hate jumping back and forth through time—and this memoir does a lot of that. It was hard to know which part of his life he was talking about or going back to. Other than that, this was really good. Here is Elliot‘s story of his childhood, adolescence, adulthood; his toxic home environment, his troubled relationships, his career, and his coming out to the world not just as queer but trans: the boy, the man he always was. He tells us about ⬇️

Glühweinkuchen vom Blech!
Glühwein Bars! With 100% dark chocolate. It was a pain in the elbow, hand, and arm to grate?but the end result is really good.

Recipe here: https://www.quick-german-recipes.com/wine-cookies.html

My friend‘s cat, Ferdinand. Look where he‘s laying; clearly, he rules over time itself. (The clock table is real, it‘s in the living room of her flat). I think this fits the time cat story perfectly. Unfortunately though, Ferdinand isn‘t the nicest cat.

Fresh out of the oven, and it smells amazing: Auf den Kopf von Apfelkuchen. Upside down apple cake.

I tweaked the recipe a little, using less sugar, a tad bit more cinnamon, and switched to Granny Smith apples. Recipe is from the same baker who created the upside down rhubarb cake that we made the other week.

Recipe here: http://blueridgebaker.blogspot.com/2009/11/apple-upside-down-cake.html?m=1

This is a highly banned book and I‘m happy to say I‘ve finally read it. It is a sex ed guide for YA but it misses the mark. It doesn‘t discuss intersex or trans folx in detail the way it does gay and bi. NB aren‘t mentioned at all. Some of the language is transphobic and harmful. If you are advocating for trans folx, you should not ever use language that mirrors that of transphobic voices. Ever. Maybe the new edition is better? This is a ⬇️

This is the first of Rupaul‘s books I‘ve read. I remember being entranced by him when I was a child; I loved seeing him on tv. Today, my husband and I frequently watch his Drag Race, and love going to drag shows. This memoir taught me things about Rupaul I didn‘t know, and I loved how real and direct it was. His early days were wild and filled with partying. He found his peoplx, created his own kind of drag, and took the first steps that⬇️

The story in my family went like this: When my mother was pregnant with me, she went to see a psychic, who told her that the baby she was carrying was a boy and that he was bound to be famous. With that in mind, she gave me the name Rupaul because, as she put it, “Ain‘t no motherfucker alive with a name like that.” Fame, for me, was less a dream than a predestination.

The big lie of our lives is that we are powerless—that we need something else, like a job, or a partner, or fame, or the dopamine hijack of a hit of cocaine, or the chilly metallic weight of a gun—to grant us power. We mistake easy pleasure, or a rush of adrenaline—for power. But real power isn‘t a high: It‘s something else, grounded and secure. Much as we seek power in every corner of our lives, it‘s always already in us; it‘s impossible to be⬇️

This is a fantastic book! The cover is gorgeous and is very inclusive. The author wrote this as part of her activism while she is living with multiple disabilities. She discusses the do‘s and don‘ts of language and action, what an expanded vision of accessibility looks like, and how to make it happen. I like how she breaks it down, shares experiences, is inclusive, and acknowledges privilege. I especially love how she describes disabled folx⬇️

What are you doing with your newfound insight for the disability experience? Will you advocate for accessibility? Will you fight stigma?

I really enjoyed this book. The author was genuinely interested in the gifts his mother had. He was always healthily skeptical, but never a jerk about it. This is a memoir of that journey, and their relationship. In the end, he felt there was something to it that couldn‘t necessarily be explained, but wants the reader to form their own opinion. As a Medium myself, I‘ve had too many experiences that I can‘t explain, but it isn‘t my goal to ⬇️

I made this rhubarb upside down cake on the fly last night. It was so good!!!!

I tweaked a few things. Less sugar, more orange, and I used whole wheat flour because that‘s what I had. The crumble bottom did not disappoint; it‘s one of the best parts! I have missed the tang of rhubarb. Harris Teeter has it right now.

Recipe here: http://blueridgebaker.blogspot.com/2010/05/rhubarb-upside-down-cake-for-my-dads....

This is such an important and powerful read. It covers what I have read in many other books but in more detail, more personal experiences and emotional, spiritual responses from the author. He makes the point of using non-violence (in many forms) as resistance, not trying to win over racists (not just Nazis, but well meaning, nice white people) but banding together to fight systemic racism and oppression. He criticizes white Christianity, and⬇️

Get in the fitness and reading when you can, and push yourself to keep going! Goals!

Last night at the annual queer youth prom, we gave out banned books. The youth were so excited to have them! We volunteers were offered some too, so I grabbed these because they are on my leaning tower of TBR.

Stone Mountain has a giant depiction of Confederate generals Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson and Confederate president Jefferson Davis on horseback. It was commissioned by Klan sympathizers who‘d initially hoped to include a parade of Klansmen in the carving. At 190 feet across and 90 feet tall, it‘s the largest Confederate monument in the country. The modern Ku Klux Klan first set fire to a cross on that very rock.
💥⬇️

A short but powerful book that packs a punch; a necessary read. Each book I read on my anti-racist journey is telling the world and me the same thing. I learn something from every Black voice, every word, every page. The author shares her struggles within a sea of white from her childhood, adolescence, and as an adult. She rightfully criticizes the church and demands it let its white superiority go, demands it do more. Demands a radical love.

This is a beautiful book of poetry and I managed to read it in an hour, forcing myself not to fall asleep though it was late. 2020 was a wild year for the world, especially in America. This book is about that, but through her lens. A pandemic, police brutality, worldwide protests, a shameful and out of control White House occupant, and the most powerful thing of all: hope. The last poem in the book is The Hill We Climb. She made history on⬇️

I have always believed in the paranormal, loved strange things, and had experiences. As a kid, I couldn‘t get enough of it. Now, I‘m a Medium! I love hearing other stories. I have seen a few of these episodes but truthfully, I prefer the more personal shows with story telling like, Paranormal Witness, Paranormal 911, The Haunted, etc. These seem more relatable, authentic. Who doesn‘t love a good ghost story? This book is about Amy‘s life ⬇️

I love his videos and knew I wanted to look through this book to see what abominations and other things might be within the pages. I made a 1920s blackberry jam cake, and the valentine‘s cream pie. The cake was like a banana bread, and the pie wasn‘t what I was expecting. Reading each recipe introduction is just as funny as watching his videos. Some cookbooks are for entertainment, historical reference. You don‘t have to use them all! 🍒🍰🍪

I wanted to try this 1920s blackberry jam cake that! I used less sugar (only 1/3 cup), my mom‘s blackberry jelly, and Greek yogurt instead of the sour cream.

It smells good and is similar to banana bread, but less sweet. The batter was dense. I considered doing a blackberry frosting but decided not to as I was short on time, tired, and didn‘t have everything. I‘m glad I didn‘t because I feel like it would be better suited on something else.

Last year when I pulled over on the side of the road to get a close look at what I now know is Rosa laegivata (Cherokee Rose), I was stunned by its beauty and that day learned the tragic story it came to be named after: the forced removal of the Cherokee peoplx in Georgia by Congress in 1838. Through that search, I found this book and knew I had to read it. This story touched me and brought up questions for my own ancestors—my mother‘s side of⬇️

I went to another local library today to ask about using a room for a Death Cafe. I host my first one next week! This library is bigger than the one behind my house. This is what I walked out with, and I didn‘t even get to finish looking at everything! I had to make myself walk away because I had to be somewhere else and was going to be late! I was really happy to find all these banned books in there!

Did I need to have this copy in addition to the novel? Yes. I wanted the art to take me there again. I so wish that Hulu had not cancelled a renewal!

Anyone who wants to take their mediumship further, to the next level, who is serious about it, should read this. But it‘s not just a one and done book. It needs to be studied. It‘s an ongoing experience, we are never done learning. We only stop growing within it, if we choose to do so. I had a lot of self-reflection here. It made me see how unorganized my mediumship is. I know what I struggle with, I knew it before reading this. I‘m already⬇️

In the lowcountry (SC), we got to see 70% of this total solar eclipse. What an awe inspiring moment to be a part of. Star dust…looking at star dust! 🌞🌚

In May 2019, the world became informed that the wreckage of the last slave ship, the Clotilda, had been discovered on the Alabama shore. This book tells the story of its journey, its survivors, and their descendants.At a time when the tide began to change and white Americans were starting to see that enslaving people was wrong, creating laws making it illegal, the Clotilda and other ships were secretly used to travel to Africa and back, carrying⬇️

I loved this book so much. It could be a considered a horror novel—though not in the sense that you normally think of. Horror that deals with the monsters of humanity, not the supernatural. Hulu adapted it onto the screen but didn‘t renew it for a second season. The year is 1976, in CA, when Dana is suddenly ripped through space and time back to the year 1815, onto Weyland Plantation, VA. She soon realizes she is tied to a child there, the⬇️

Happy Eostre, from our favorite murderous bunny: Runnymede. 🪺🐇💀

I loved this book. Anything Brom writes or illustrates, I‘ll like it. In his latest book, here we have the story of a young woman who is struggling to survive while living within Puritan rule. The misogyny and greed of the powerful men around her ultimately take hold, but the Wild God and his demons provide a chance for revenge. The story makes you think of all the victims of centuries ago. What if there had been someone to come to their aid?⬇️

I do not want your service or your soul, reverend man. I just want you to tell them, your breed of people, tell them what happened here. Tell them that the Devil, Slewfoot himself, burned down this church, killed them all…the men, the women, and the children. That he is wicked and cruel and shows no mercy. That he conjured demons and that they danced for him. Tell them to fear this forest, that Slewfoot waits for them there…awaits his chance⬇️

Finally, we get to see a side of the story we aren‘t used to: the victims. This was an engaging book, though I wasn‘t a fan of the going back and forth in time. Reading this and watching the documentaries again really made me think of how scary he really was. Bundy was another symptom of the disease of misogyny. In 2024, the world isn‘t a safer place for womxn. Ladies, remember, you don‘t owe men anything; you don‘t have to smile at them or⬇️

I enjoyed this inside view into the life of the mysterious Sally Hemings. She was kept a secret then, and she is still in the shadows of American History today. In these pages, we get a glimpse of what her life might have been like. She was Thomas Jefferson‘s misogynoir. She was an enslaved, Black woman. She was Sally Hemings.

Oh okay I see how it‘s going to be. Back and forth, back and forth, up and down through time 😑

What a heart breaking historical journey. These are the kinds of books we need: books that tell the truth about America‘s history: visceral, raw, and brutally honest. Slavery was much worse than what we can imagine. My home city, Charleston, will forever carry this shameful, ugly stain. This book centers on the journey of Ashley‘s sack, gifted to her by her mother Rose, on the eve of her sale, sometime in the 1850s—before finding its way to⬇️

An auction block was a real thing. We sometimes forget this. We allow the physicality of a rock worn smooth by time and the press of bare, stolen feet to slip from our awareness. But these mundane things – a concrete block, a wooden set, a hollow stump – were props for the ritual dehumanization of a people. Much like the “uniform” of Negro cloth, the auction block set a group apart in order to lower their social status and justify their⬇️

Enslavers tended to name their human property in ways that reaffirmed their own status and authority, while simultaneously demeaning the people named. The result was a denial of enslaved people‘s surnames, a slew of personal names that were the shortened form of European names (like Beck, Harry, or Jenny), names more fitting for household pets (like Hero, Cupid, or Captain), and names reminiscent of classical figures (like Dido, Caesar, or Venus)

How did we arrive here, with the memory of a tattered dress and yet another Black mother‘s daughter on an auction block? How did South Carolina become a place where the sale of a colored child was not only possible but probable? The answer lies in the willingness of an entire society to bend its shape around a set of power relations that structured human exploitation along racial lines for financial gain. While vending Black people to underwrite⬇️

Today the brick walls of Charleston seem picturesque, luxuriously fringed by palmetto fronds, burnt-orange trumpet vines, and snow-white gardenias hot with perfume. We admire the Old World intricacy of this storied city while taking photos of Charleston‘s famous iron gates. We see the tall, striking walls as elaborate garden boxes resplendent here as nowhere else in the nation. We gaze with longing glances at the seeming romance of another age⬇️

The Miles Brewton House fence with mounted spikes, 27 King Street, Charleston. The spikes were added to the plain ironwork fence after Denmark Vesey‘s rebellion plot of 1822.

💔

The particular Rose recalled to memory by Ruth Middleton‘s looping stitch may have been given this name by a mother or a caretaker. She could have been called Rose, a flower of Old English derivation, by one of the people who owned her. She may have garnered the nickname Rose because she loved summer blossoms. She may have borne a rose-shaped scar on the tender skin of her back. And she was not alone, this woman named Rose, whose naming remains⬇️

It is a madness, if not an irony, that unlocking the history of unfree people depends on the materials of their legal owners, who held the lion‘s share of visibility in their time and ours. Captive takers‘ papers and government records are often the only written accounting of enslaved people who could not escape and survive to tell their own stories. The wealthier and more influential the slaveholder, the more likely it is that plantation and ⬇️

It is the world‘s shortest slave narrative , stripped down to its essence, sent back to us through time like a message in a bottle.

The supple bends of the Ashley River ribbon the edge of the property. Dirt paths lead to stone ruins and delicate reflecting ponds shaped like butterfly wings—ponds that enslaved people dug by hand out of steaming, mosquito-thick mud banks. These pools are among the many luxuries exorbitant wealth bought in Charleston, one of this country‘s richest towns in the era of the American Revolution, due to rice and cotton profits of legalized slavery.

Just as Rose and Ashley found on their forced journeys through slavery landscape, there is no safe place of escape left for us. The walls of the world are closing in. We need to get out of here in a hurry. We need to get out of these frames of mind and states of emotion, that elevate mastery over compassion, division over connection, and greed over care, separating us one from another, and locking us in. Our only options in this predicament, ⬇️

Based on the hit BBC show of the same name, this is the first of several memoirs of midwifery in Poplar, England, in the 1950s. Nonnatus House isn‘t a real place but it is named after a 13th century Saint, Raymond Nonnatus. Here, Jennifer shares the humbling experiences she had while working as a midwife and living with nuns.Life was hard and inequities rampant. During this time, forced sterilization, the lack of contraception, lack of access to⬇️

This is a heart warming book that‘s about several things. One woman and how she touched the lives of everyone around her, the difference she made in the world, always striving to be of service to others. The relationship she had with her son, her love of books and how she took what she learned from them and applied it to her being. And finally, how she chose to face death and did the things she loved until her final moments. Recommended.

She never wavered in her conviction that books are the most powerful tool in the human arsenal, that reading all kinds of books, in whatever format you choose—electronic (even though that wasn‘t for her) or printed, or audio—is the grandest entertainment, and also is how you take part in the human conversation.Mom taught me that you can make a difference in the world and that books really do matter: they‘re how we know what we need to do in life⬇️

This book reminded me a lot of Lily and the Octopus. I will always think of cancerous growths as octopi from now on. I asked AI for an image a man with an octopus sitting on his chest and this is what it gave me. I suppose it fits. Brown skin, and the octopus seems to be spreading itself everywhere.

This AI image makes the firemen look happy to see books burning. Let‘s hope this isn‘t our future…we‘re nearly there.