Poopie diapers have gotta happen more often than 800 times. Crying enough to get mom or dad out of bed during the night.

I tried a few Oprah picks, but they all seemed stuck on one theme: dysfunction -- usually of the family sort or women doing stupid things, then transcending their idiocy. Very noble in intention, I'm sure, but I always feel I've been thumped on the head repeatedly with a tablespoon when I read O's choices. My list would start with Mark Twain. He can get me out of a funk quicker than just about any American writer. I would like to include Harper Lee and Margaret Mitchell, but I'm with Carolyn that only one book each makes them hard to estimate. I really like Wallace Stegner's histories (e.g., about the American West, Mormons) and biographies (John Wesley Powell). I'm not fond of his fiction for a reason I find hard to define...maybe it's just because it's fiction after I have been so entranced by his skill with nonfiction. Styron has written some of the loveliest, most vivid descriptions I think I've ever read. But gosh! his fiction, to me, is depressing. I recognized that even before I knew that he was suffering depression himself. As for Faulkner, I still say that The Reivers is my favorite -- I find it hilarious. It's entirely accessible too. I know he's admired for his labyrinthine sentences and stream of consciousness, so the 'normalness' of The Reivers evidently makes it lesser somehow in some sniffy quarters. Let 'em sniff; I'll take pure entertainment when I can get it. I liked Steinbeck when I was younger, but trying to reread his fiction is like listening to stale sermons. I didn't realize how preachy some of his stuff is. I'll stick up for Hemingway any day, though I know that many women loathe his writing (and him, too, apparently). Of the two rivals, F. Scott Fitzgerald was certainly the more elegant writer, but Hemingway appeals in an entirely different way to me. I think it's really silly to compare them, but it seems inevitable for some reason. Poets: Edgar Allan Poe (and short stories) Elizabeth Bishop (I like her prose, too.) Emily Dickinson Sylvia Plath Anne Sexton (Why are so many fine poets depressives?) Mary Oliver (she's growing on me!) Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (call him corny, I don't care, as I think his corn will outlast most of the synthetics of the 20th/21st centuries)

Hi Raven, I've done that a couple of times, and it made no difference. And all of a sudden today, it decided to work as it should. This happened a couple of months ago....I couldn't post for days, and then one day I could.

...just to say... part 2 of this series has just been shown here... it may be on youtube very shortly... I'm sure someone will put it up, they usually do.. ..it's mostly about early days of Independence gardens... visiting Monticello.. but I loved the segment on Charleston.. the Magnolia gardens and others there... then he went to Miami to Vizcaya and New Orleans... ..made me laugh... lady in Charleston told Monty her roses are 'annuals'... he said he hadn't heard that term used for roses before.... well, he better come see me - please keep up Monty, I've been doing it for years..... youtube link