Ahhh, books. We all love lists, do we not? And in case you're wondering a list counts as one (of the ten thousand) in its entirety, vice each individual tome counting as one. Therefore, I humbly submit a sampling (ten, of course) of my favorite works, in no particular order other than the joy that they provided upon completion.
- A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
- Jitterbug Perfume - Tom Robbins
- Sirens of Titan - Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
- On the Beach - Neville Shute
- The Magus - John Fowles
- Stranger in a Strange Land - Robert Heinlien
- Sometimes a Great Notion - Ken Kesey
- Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
- Poisonwood Bible - Barbara Kingsolver
- Franny & Zooey - JD Sallinger
If the waft that streams from a freshly opened hive is intimate to the point of embarrassment (ask any sensitive beekeeper), so it is with beet pollen. There is something personal about it, and something primeval. If there is a comparable odor, it is indeed, the moldy inner sanctum of some fermenting, bursting hive, but beet pollen is honey squared, royal jelly cubed, nectar raised to the nth power, the intensified secretions of the Earth's apiarian gland, reeking of ancient burial chambers and intimacies half as old as time. Tom Robbins, from Jitterbug Perfume.
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