Two for the price of one

I recently read two of Joseph Heywood's Woods Cop Mysteries back-to-back. It's actually been a while since I read them so my memory may be a bit hazy but here are my thoughts on them.

Buckular Dystrophy

This was the tenth book in the series.

"Buckular dystrophy" is a term coined by conservation officers to describe a kind of addiction to killing deer, not for sport or food, but seemingly just because they are there and because they can. The action takes place during Michigan's two-week firearm deer season when it seems that a lot of hunters go just a little bit crazy. During this time, game wardens are on duty all the time and have no personal life to call their own.

In this instance, Game Warden Grady Service inexplicably takes on longtime violator Limpy Allerdyce as his partner. But it is actually a genius move because nobody knows violators like another violator and Limpy leads him into a bizarre series of cases involving deer.

I particularly like these stories for their interesting descriptions of the landscape and wildlife of the Upper Peninsula and of some of the characters that live there. Heywood does spin a good yarn.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

*~*~*~*

Chasing a Blond Moon

I actually read this book (which is #3 in the series) after the later book which I just described. I generally like to read series books in order but sometimes I just go rogue and that's what I did in this case.

The plot here was complicated and a bit hard for me to follow at times but here's what I can tell you about it: As an early book in the series, this one is still letting us get to know Grady Service. We learn that he's not just a man of the woods but also someone who knows a bit about wine and good food. He can cook!

We learn that there is a woman in his life, Maridly Nantz. Also, he has a son from an earlier relationship, a son that he has only just learned about. The plot also involves a bit of politics, a state senator who is running for governor of the state. It is a heady mix and made for a robust tale. I think I will be reading more in this series.

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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