TeamReedBlog.2020

I'm reading this book: "Who Cooked the Last Supper?  The Women’s History of the World, " by Rosalind Miles. I can't say that I love it.  I may be a lone voice in the wilderness here. Goodreads give the book 4/5 stars and Libby recommended it to me.  I have great respect for Miles' research and for putting forth a position I've long held: that you can't fully trust tradition and history because our notion of history is limited to what the survivors said it was. It's like eye-witness accounts in criminal prosecutions: eye witnesses rarely get all the facts straight. You don't have to have to be a historian to know that most of the historical documents that survived were things recorded by men. Men who were either rich or had rich patrons. What of the stories of the women, the poor, the schmucks who lived hand-to-mouth but probably had some amazing stories? Ever notice how so many pieces of fiction rely on the protagonist falling into money somehow? ...

  Jeff and I are celebrating our 27th wedding anniversary today about 1,000 miles apart.  He gets 75-degree-Orlando. I get 23 degrees in Indy. We’re not fighting or separated on purpose. For the first time in the nearly six years she’s been a college student (4 at Purdue and 1.5/5 at UCF) she called asking if one of us could come down because she was “feeling like death.” It came at a good time for Jeff. He’d been helping her with her project to add an ACLU chapter to the university and he currently doesn’t have a consulting contract. I have a busy work month with a client event that should be my swan song. So, it was he who caught a flight down. Instead of death (thank goodness) Alison has mono and the ‘flu. She is medicated and recovering. Day One, her father ordered her to bed, started in on her mountain of laundry and made her Ramen soup. Day Two, she got into the doctor and got sent back to bed while he got her meds. Then, he got (undiagnosed) flu. Day Three, he was ...