Drive by Kelley Earnhardt Miller

"Believe it or not, there were times years ago when people referred to me as the best driver in the Earnhardt family, which is quite a compliment.  I definitely know how to handle a car at high speeds, and I know what it feels like to thrive on the rush of racing..."
"People are understandably curious about how I came to be a racing executive.  I don't have a dramatic story about breaking glass ceilings as a woman in a man's world...I was simply born into it, and it has been my world all my life."

While I'm not a national racing executive and I never actually won a race as a driver, I WAS the girl at the track.  Me and Jackie (who coincidentally both went to WHHS and are still very close friends) were a force little girls looked up to at the track.  We were dirty, covered in track dust and oil and smoke and heaven knows what else coming off that toxic stream in the back.  Our long hair in braids, wearing pink Mechanix gloves, we were actually opponents at Waterford.  And I loved every minute.

Although my track days are long over, I still try to go once a year at least.  It's fun to run into the guys who once feared you and the cars you could set up.  I get comments every now and then on FB on memories "you were one of the best", "your Dad taught you so well", "you could make a Fedex truck run on rails". I reply with "retired" usually.  However, the thought of putting my son in a Strictly has crossed my mind on occasion.  I could fling tires and bench press a full-weight jack a lifetime ago.  Not so much now.  Jackie's old team has a young man driving a Modified today.  He won a track championship at 16.  Johnny P. is going places, you watch. And funny enough, his Dad became a teacher too.

Anyway, enough reminiscing.  I think it's plainly obvious why I chose to order this as a quarantine read.  WHEN we go back, find it with the athlete memoirs.

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All opinions expressed on this blog are solely those of Mrs. W.

From Crook to Cook by Snoop Dogg

I love Snoop's old music.
I love to cook.
I love Martha and Snoop's cooking show.
So of course I bought myself this.

What's really awesome about Snoop is that he's, for lack of a better word, NORMAL.  I know that wasn't always the case, but really he's a devoted Dad and doting Grandpa.  Although he and his wife had issues in the past, they're still together.  Their kitchen has HEINZ KETCHUP and AUNT JEMIMA SYRUP in the pantry! I mean, really?  Billions of dollars, and they still cook for themselves and their grandson using what us everyday people can buy at Walmart.

What was supposed to be a novelty in Martha and Snoop's Pajama Party (a reference to both of their pasts as inmates) became an absolute hit. 

I had no expectations about this cookbook.  I knew there were stories interwoven from Snoop's past and present, but I did not think there'd be soooo many amazing recipes.  And some of these are very intricate.  Jilly Mae is absolutely going to try some soon!  That Jamaican Jerk Yardie Yardbird might be first!

The photography is gorgeous, and the random tidbits thrown in are a good laugh (best cereal at midnight?, best candy for the munchies?).

Definitely recommend!

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All opinions expressed on this blog are solely those of Mrs. W.

Rust by Eliese C.Goldbach

I hope this review finds you and your family safe and well. 
I could write a book here about my emotions right now, but I will simply say I miss my kids and my colleagues!!!

So, on to this review.

I really, really wanted to like this.  "A memoir of steel and grit" is the subtitle.  I expected a kick-butt story about a woman in a male-dominated trade working her tail off to support herself through school.

This was so incredibly hard to follow.  Goldbach bounces between events, without really much of an indication that time or location is changing.  She seems to be OK being a conservative, then goes on a Trump bashing rant.  She's proud to be a union worker, then condemns the industry.  What would be comedic events, such as trying to get a squirrel out of her apartment, are all tied to her mental break--what?  It seemed like Goldbach was grasping at straws to find her a cause for her instability, which, please do not misunderstand me; it certainly it may have felt like to her at the time.  But it comes across as whiny, woe is me, all the world and its creatures are out to get me!  It grated on my nerves.  Girl, get up, dust yourself off, and get back on the horse.  I rolled my eyes more than a few times.  Coupled with the lack of continuity, and I just slogged through. 

A no from me.

All opinions expressed on this blog are solely those of Mrs. W.