Pillories and Pall Malls

The weekend slid away from me, though not in a bad way ~ I accomplished most of the tasks on my list, but I never ended up having the time to paint. Some may think that I've been deliberately avoiding getting out a canvas again because I am usually so displeased with the results. That's probably partly true. It's also true that I need to feel a surge of creative energy early in the day in order to be motivated to paint, plus I must have a block of 3-4 hours of uninterrupted quiet time. These factors have not coincided for a while. Painting isn't like poetry: when inspiration strikes, I can write verse anytime, anywhere, and it doesn't matter if I'm tired or if there is chaos all around me. I guess painting is more like novel writing for me... I need a lot of time just to get in the mood to get started. Does that mean I shouldn't bother at all? I don't think so. I've written a few novels I’m proud of, and there are paintings I've done that I liked so much I hung on my wall. I suspect I will return to both hobbies eventually.

It's Sunday night now, and I have the block of time but not the surge of energy, so I figured I would write a post to publish in the morning. January 20, 2025 is notable for several reasons. First, we celebrate the life of a great man, Dr. MLK Jr. Second, a convicted felon will take the inaugural oath to become the 47th President of the United States. Some people are happy about this, while others, like myself, find it disgusting, terrifying, heartbreaking, etc. Perhaps we shall be proven wrong and everything will be "great again,” but I doubt it. (NB: the US was never great, but it was getting better until it started going backwards.) 

Third, the Santa Ana winds are returning to Southern California Monday night, and thus the horrible, dry conditions for more devastating firestorms will be present. I fervently hope there are no more fires and that all the poor people who lost so much during the previous ones can begin to recover. Fourth, I was very moved by the long overdue return of the three hostages in Israel. May the rest of the hostages be alive and healthy! May the terrorists released from Israeli jails in trade not cause any more harm. Fifth, I have a dental appointment at 8am, which is not exciting, but I forgot about it until the office called Friday to remind me. Obviously, I've been flossing like a maniac.

I read The Love Child by Philippa Carr (aka Victoria Holt). This was a fab read, and I gave the book five stars. All my life, I have increased my vocab and my history knowledge via historical romance novels. It's so much more interesting to learn in this way than from dusty, dreary schoolbooks. I had always assumed that stocks and pillories were the same thing, but they aren't, and the use of "pillory" in this book prompted me to look up the definition of both. A pillory is that locking wooden frame where someone is forced to stand uncomfortably for however long with hands and head sticking out of the front. Not only is it painful and humiliating, but also passersby can abuse the person. Stocks are just for hands and/or feet, no headlock, so in comparison being assigned to the stocks is somewhat of a lesser punishment.

I also looked up Pall Mall, which goes back a lot farther than the cigarette brand some of us may have heard of. Pall Mall was a 16th-17th century game, played with a wooden ball and a mallet, where the object was to whack the ball down an alley and through a ring in as few strokes as possible. The alley was also referred to as the Pall Mall. If the game sounds similar to croquet, that's because it is. When the game fell out of fashion, some of the Pall Malls turned into shopping areas... and were simply called malls. Did you know that? I didn't! 

Love Child ticks the box on my 2025 Reading Challenge as a book that takes place in a foreign land. Hey, England is foreign, and the main character was in Italy for a while too. I checked the "involves a sport" box with The Unraveling by VI Keeland. The MC's dead husband was an ice hockey player, and that fact is relevant to the story. This was an enjoyable read ~ I gave it three stars ~ but it wasn't great, and I found the ending very confusing. Spoilers!

The premise is that Meredith, a drunken psychiatrist, is stalking Gabriel because he looks too happy to be someone who had recently lost his wife and daughter in a car accident, and she gets obsessed with the need to discover how he is coping. Meredith's dead husband was the drunk driver who killed them, and Meredith is not coping well at all. DH had also been addicted to oxy due to an ice hockey injury, and he stole Meredith's prescription pads to get more drugs. Meredith knew the pads were gone, did nothing, and now blames herself for the deaths (as she should). She's consumed with guilt bla bla, but despite that she becomes super attracted to Gabriel. He appears to feel the same. She breaks doctor/patient rules many times, while steadily increasing her drinking.

There are all these weird coincidences where they keep running into each other (in NYC, no less), but then it turns out Gabriel is stalking Meredith. Why? His motivation is completely unclear (and we get only one short chapter at the end from his POV) ~ Gabriel was cheating on his wife and may have told his unhinged girlfriend to kill her by pushing her in front of a car (very iffy way to attempt a murder). If so, why would he stalk the dead driver’s widow afterwards? And why was the wacko girlfriend also stalking Meredith? It's all a big tangled blob, but who really cares since none of the characters are the least bit sympathetic, except maybe the dead wife and kid, but we don't get to know them in the story.

That's it. Have a good week.