Pre-Columbian Mountaineer

This cake is from the crafty Miss Hall, baked for my pre-going away going away party held at the beginning of May due to scheduling conflicts.  Now, the beginning of June, I have taken flight and with nary a backward glance; adios Houston!

Every now and then I allow myself a book that I call "in-flight reading," namely, "something I found in the airport bookshop 5 minutes before boarding and it looks like it may keep my from falling asleep on the person next to me for the next few hours." High lit is not necessary: page-flipping fluff is the general objective.   I have sought and received in-flight insurance against drooling on strangers most recently with the following: Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen, Dying Inside by Robert Silverberg, The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, and The Enchantress of Florence by Salman Rushdie.  

The results?  Shoddy on the whole.  Gruen's was by far my favorite, if not only for my penchant for elephants and Depression-era circus trains (elephants love alcohol!  And lemonade!).  As for Silverberg and Niffenegger?  I tried.. I tried to get into the fun (is that why they do it?) of telepathy and time-travel but in the end find the whole bag so fraught with gimmicks and problems I can't help but roll my eyes.  Also, each author had sex ticks that really got under my skin; Silverberg is a breast man, and he will never be able to convince me of an equally as vested interest in a single other subject on planet earth, and Niffenegger couldn't quite pull away from a lilting dependence on Nora Roberts-esque lovemaking scenes.  Even if they happened across time, across worlds,  the presence of a tuxedo and white opera gloves whilst swiping a V-card does not equal romance.

And Rushdie: I cannot get that image of him from Bridget Jones out of my head.  Not even long enough to marvel at the breadth of languages necessary to catch those pithy name puns.  Jerk.

Anyway, the in-flight pleasure of my move to Baltimore was The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows.  This is not one of those obnoxious-looking Sweet Potato Queen books, but rather a collection of correspondence taking place directly following WWII.  Even though the chief recommender on the book's cover was that Eat, Love, Pray Operah-nite, I was fortunately undeterred and am very charmed by the thing.  I may even take up real, carpal tunnel-inducing correspondence once finished.  

Now.. packing, storing, and trekking off to the mountains in a week.