Christmas 2015

Christmas has come and gone, and it was a green Christmas after all. That last snowfall that I thought would stick only lasted a couple of days.

Oh well, some Christmases have to be green. The temptation is to blame climate change, but if people were able to rely on snow in the past, then we wouldn't have classic songs such as I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas (probably not the song name, but I just remember the lyric) and Frosty the Snowman wouldn't have been made with the first snow of the year, which was on Christmas Day.

You have to have green Christmases so that the danger of not having a white Christmas feels real and therefor more rewarding when you do have them. And if a Christmas had to be compromised, I'm fine with it being this one. This month has really dragged, with work, with being sick, with finding a place to live, and with preparing for the move. Dealing with the holidays was just an added challenge.

I told everyone not to get me anything special, and not to expect anything special from me, but I wound up both giving and receiving more than I'd intended, which was pretty predictable.

I'm celebrating in Guelph with my mother and brother.

There's a place in Guelph called The Hundred Stairs, which I'd heard about but never been to. I went on it, and there were 105 stairs. Disappointing.

I finished The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. I thought it was excellent. I'm sure the jury's out on whether or not it accurately portrays the perspective of someone with autism, but I am very rarely moved by books in the way that this one did for me. There was one scene where I had to put the book down because it was giving me anxiety, and I cried at least twice, in public, because it moved me so. And I don't really cry. Last time I cried was at the end of the Walking Dead video game back when I was taking Human Services Foundation, and the time before that was when I left Mali. It really irritated me that my cry for Mali was such a significant point in my life, and then I broke my record on a video game. But now I have to say that I've cried for Mali, Walking Dead, and The Dog in the Nighttime. Still averaging less than a cry per year.

My mom blasted through The Dog in the Nighttime as well. started and finished it in one sitting, and described the book as an "emotional journey". So even though my field of work deals with people similar to the main character in this book, my mom was able to be engaged just as strongly without such a significant influence. The book is accessible to anyone.

The author of the book says that he is not an expert on autism or aspergers, and the book was made more to demonstrate the experience of being different. And in fact, the main character is never referred to as being on the spectrum.

If I were still doing that Sage Award thing I did on my previous blog (I used to do book reviews on a blog with the word "Sage" in it), The Dog in the Nighttime would surely earn this award.

I'm giving this Book of the Year, although I think my only other reads were Children of Segu, and Into the Wild, although those are both very solid reads.