My Book Sherpa

So, I read quickly. I always have. People have accused me of skimming, pretending to read, etc. and quizzed me on the contents of my reading. They usually never bothered me again after I was able to answer any questions they asked me. I've never taken a speed reading course; I've just always been able to read that fast. 

 

As you might imagine, being able to read quickly has a number of advantages. I've rarely had to renew library books, readings for classes or workshops don't take very long, and I can actually re-read entire textbooks when I'm studying for exams. I can also get through exams faster - in a multiple choice exam, I may take as long as anyone else to figure out the right answer, but I've been able to read the question and options more quickly.

The disadvantages of reading quickly are more bothersome when travelling. I can carry about 2-3 books in my travel backpack. Although I can read in a car (yay for no motion sickness!), I usually don't, since I prefer to look at the scenery and I'm often navigating or reading on behalf of the driver. The problem arises when I travel by plane. I can't usually sleep on a plane, so I read. My 2-3 books are usually done by the time we've reached our destination - then what? Ditch a book or two and buy more? Not possible - I tend to only buy books that I've read previously and have liked enough to own.

A few years ago, we went to Barbados right before Christmas. Actually, our travel plans were thus: fly to Toronto, go to the Terracotta Warriors exhibit at the ROM; fly to Barbados the next day, spend a week there; fly back to Toronto, spend a couple of days with friends just north of the city; take a train to Kingston; spend Christmas with Ken's sister and her family and Ken's parents; fly back to Saskatoon. Loads of time to read in transit. Ken and I exchanged Christmas presents before we left home (I was so not dragging or shipping a Black and Decker workbench to Kingston). When he gave me his gift, Ken said, "let me know if it's not something you want, because I can return it." Well. It was an e-reader (a KOBO, if you're interested). It came loaded with I don't know how many books (the older, out of copyright ones) and the capacity to carry 1000 books. 1000 BOOKS, Y'ALL! I was never going to run out of things to read again. And all in something that weighed as much as the average paperback, and was only about 1-2 cm thick.

As an added bonus, I could borrow e-books from the Saskatoon Public Library. Just download the e-books onto a computer, then transfer them to the e-reader. From anywhere. I "went to the library" in Kingston and in B.C.; if the internet connections hadn't been so dreadfully slow, I would have borrowed books while in Viet Nam. Just imagine - "What are you doing?" "I'm at the library. Shhh. " "But... you're sitting on the couch, drinking scotch, and cackling..." "Yes. SHHHH."

Now, make no mistake. I love physical books. I love the way they feel, smell, and look. It's much easier and quicker to flip back or forward in a "real" book. You can throw an annoying book (The Murder of King Tut, dear God) out the window without worrying about damaging any other books or technologies. I love old books, and the crafts of bookbinding and typesetting. But for sheer carrying convenience, I'm grateful for the invention of e-books.

Now, confession time. I was an...unusual child. ("Really??", chorused everyone who actually knows me.) I've always loved to read, and can't remember I time when I couldn't. When I was in grade 1, I used to schlep a big flipping black garbage bag full of books with me to school and back every day. These were books from our classroom which I really liked, and wanted to have with me at all times, in case I wanted to read them. (I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Mrs. Russell, my grade 1 teacher, for her patience and apparent sense of humour). Anyway, every time I take my e-reader somewhere, I feel that six year old grinning. And massaging her biceps.

Osteology and You

One of the classes I took last term was human osteology - lots of work (you have to be able to identify bones and their features in fragment form), but an excellent class.  I thought that I'd share some of my knowledge and insights from the class:

1. If you pass out during an exam, campus security has to come. Your backpack will get a ride to the Student Health Centre; you will walk over, accompanied by a security officer. (Ok, so that actually has nothing to do with osteology. But it's something I learned!)

2. There are three general types of joints in the human body (synovial, cartilaginous, and fibrous) and your vertebral column contains all three.

3. My favourite bone group is the vertebrae, partially because of the fun fact noted above, and partially because so many diseases, biomechanical markers, etc. are evidenced there.

4. My favourite individual bone is the sphenoid. It's complex, and sometimes difficult to identify in fragment, but very pretty. It reminds me of a butterfly, or this flower.

5. In trying to figure out which side is up for tarsals, metatarsals, and pedal phalanges (ankle bones, foot bones, and toes), the sides that are bulgy, rough, have grooves for nerves and ligaments, and generally look uncomfortable, are invariably the sides that you're walking on. Plantar fasciae are your friends.

6. There is incredible variation in number of bones per individual, bone robusticity, skull shape, etc., all within normal parameters. The average person may or may not have exactly 206 bones. Children have more. 

7. Most of the bone names are in Latin, with a few in Greek. They translate to some really....interesting things:

• Coracoid process (part of your scapula)= crow (shaped like a crow's beak)
• Malleolus (exterior ankle bones)= little hammer. 

Some of the really fascinating meanings got me wondering about who thought up the bone names in the first place and the circumstances under which the naming occurred. Here's one possible scenario:

Act 1, Scene 1: Somewhere in Europe, several hundred (or more) years ago. 

" Ok, y'all. We've got 15 articulated skeletons, 327 individual bones, vellum, ink, quills, and 47 bottles of Antonio's papa's home-made wine. LET'S DO THIS THING!!!"

Act 2, Scene 1: Several hours, and 34 bottles of Antonio's papa's home-made wine later.

"BOOBS! Heh heh heh.....skull has boobs. Mastoid process!! Skullboobs...heh heh heh....boobs."

"Duuuude...you could totally drink out of this thing. It's like a little wine goblet... for, like, squirrels."

"Yo, Bartholomeus! Wake up! You gettin' this %$^# down, bro?"

8. It's somehow satisfying to be able to identify and use the correct term for the exact bone that you've injured, stubbed, whatever. For example:

Slipping on ice before taking osteology: " Aggggrrrrrhhh! Owowowow! Goatbothering%^&^%&$#!!"
Slipping on ice after taking osteolgy: "I have landed on my sacrum! Aaaahhhhh! %$%$#*&@onastick!!

Much better.

Long Haired Freaky People Need Not Apply

Although, I've never actually seen one that says that in so many words.

Some people collect snow globes from different places they've visited; some collect miniature spoons (there's a fine collection in my mom's basement, if anyone's interested....). Lots of people like to take pictures of particular things in different places - architecture styles, street lights, statuary, their teenage children looking bored in front of any of the previous items, etc.

I've realized over the years that I tend to collect pictures of signs from various places, usually those yellow 'caution'-type ones. Sometimes, it's because I've never seen one like it before (in Saskatchewan, we don't have many signs warning against the possibility of high water or rock falls), but mostly because I think they're funny.

For example, I present you with the first sign photo I ever took:

This was from Pacific Rim National Park. Up to that point, the 'Slippery When Wet' signs I'd seen had mostly shown the stick person seemingly sitting on the ground, dejected, having already slipped and fallen. This one actually depicted the person in the act of slipping, quite spectacularly.

Some of the sign pictures I've taken are unintentionally hilarious:

I don't know if you can read this; most of the rules are pretty standard. Except for #7, which states "Bicycles, motorbike, pets, fire-arms, explosives, inflammable, stinking things and even prostitutes aren't allowed in the hotel."

Well, dammit. I was planning on bringing a ripe durian, an open bottle of fish sauce, a hand grenade, my bike, and my new best friend into my room. What am I supposed to do tonight instead?

This was from a hotel in Hoi An the first time we visited Viet Nam. We stayed at the same hotel this time, and we were both pleased to note that the rules hadn't changed.


 As I mentioned earlier, some of the signs warn of dangers that you don't typically face in Saskatchewan:

 

There's also the series that I like to call "Bad Things That Can Happen Near Cliffs": 

And my own personal favourite: "God Will Smite You"

 

Of course, these signs are here for our protection, so no matter how hilarious they may be, it's important to remember: 

Never step on anyone's head, and of course: 

Always watch where you walk.