I randomly picked out a Deborah Cadbury audio book. It was fascinating, marvelous and totally riveting how many issues Queen Victoria had. It was a bit of a shock to learn that the heads of states in Europe were family and how it led to WWI. I was so obsessed by the end of the audiobook that I had to take out Princes At War. Obsessed with WWII, I forayed into “The Last of the Duchess” by Caroline Blackwood. It was not as impressive. I went back to the French Revolution with The Lost King of France. That was terrible and awful. I wept over the cruelty exacted by the angry people on the little boy Louis XVII. My childish admiration of revolutionists dimmed with that book. So did my eyes. My eyes were crossed from reading on my phone screen. I bought an eReader. A Kobo for its ability to borrow books from overdrive. (If only it plays audiobooks.)

Last Saturday I completed Space Race while the kids were at the various lessons. My crying in Kopitiam was put to a stop when I glanced at the nearby clock and noticed it was 10 mins to pick up time. (A race all the way to maths class proved a total waste of effort because one of them was slow that day.)

I was moderately engaged when the book started, by the end, I admired the organisation, the political maneuvers, hard work and the incredible amount of risks in space travel. (I don’t watch many movies. I only know the quote “Houston, we have problem.” because other people were repeating it.) It had never occurred to me that passion was dangerous. The rocket designers had pursued their passion, their dream with such zeal. When Cold War politics came into the mix, it was the fuel that gave burst to the speed in building spaceships. Cadbury showed the extent of consideration of risks of going into space. She also showed the intensity of that desire allowed the risks to be rationalised away. I love it!

I haven’t read Dinosaur Hunters. I need a break after all that outpouring of emotion. I’ve moved on to Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth by Margaret Atwood.