So, I'm taking a week off training after spraining/straining/hurting my ankle this weekend. We went hiking in a state park Saturday and biking for 5 miles or so on Sunday. My right ankle seemed a little sore after biking, but by the time I got home, it was swollen and painful. We encountered plenty of uneven surfaces and hills Saturday, so I assumed I twisted my ankle and didn't really notice it at the time.

I was awfully gimpy at work Monday. Two gimpy (and much older) men shared their woes with me. One hypothesized that a piece of bone had chipped off his second toe on his left foot when he was shoveling snow. I didn't quite understand why this was still a problem since it's been, you know, several weeks since we last had snow, but I didn't ask.

Either way, I'm glad walking didn't bring tears to my eyes today, but I'm going to wait to formally start exercising until Monday just to be safe ...

"In some remote villages of Zimbabwe, it is believed that a solar eclipse occurs when a crocodile eats the sun. This celestial crocodile, they say, briefly consumes our life-giving star as a warning that he is much displeased with the behavior of man below. It is the very worst of omens."

Not that there's a shortage of bad omens in the time period that frames Godwin's memoir. Mugabe and his goons justify taking white farmers' lands through the guise of returning it to black "war vets" who fought for the nation. Many times, according to Godwin, they render highly productive land useless while inflicting senseless cruelty.

And then, there's the AIDS plague. Godwin's mother is a physician who has seen so much of the disease that she can "usually diagnose someone at the doorway of her examining room," he writes. It has meant that the country's average life expectancy has plummeted from 60 to 33.

"At 33, just as people should be in their prime, they suddenly sicken and die," Godwin writes. "And the managers of the mines and the factories and the farms have begun training three people to fill every job, because they know two will not live to work."

Against this backdrop, Godwin, a journalist for The New York Times and National Geographic magazines, among others, tells the tale of his father's slow death as his family of strong, interesting and brave people try to cope. His sister flees to London to produce an anti-Mugabe radio show and to bolster his opposition; his mother faces her own medical crisis in a land she knows first-hand is not well-suited for handling medical crises; and between assignments and his immediate family, Godwin is raising two boys in New York City.

His writing is thick without being heavy, punctuated both with telling details and humor, and reflective enough to show that Zimbabwe is far from the first nation to destroy much more than it create through a dictatorial, racist regime. And yet, he tries to explain the guilt he feels leaving that nation behind:

"I am soaring away from my fragile, breathless father with his tentative hold on life. I'm soaring away from my mother, who still lies in her hospital bed surrounded by wounded demonstrators - the trembling black women with broken limbs and puffy eyes and back striated with the angry whip marks of the dictatorship ... A nation is bleeding while I sit here cosseted with my baked trout and crispy bacon, my flute of Laurent-Perrier brut champagne, my choice of movies and my hot face towel. I am abandoning my post. Like my father before me, I am rejecting my own identity. I am committing cultural treason."

Yep. It's a book that shows us a world many of us cannot imagine through any sort of real-life experience. You should read it. It's 341 pages, every one of them good.

I just dropped off the last of the raffle prizes for the winners to pick up this week at Corkscrew Pointe. It was nice to see reactions of people who had won something; it was almost like they were getting unexpected presents.

(Except for the men who won brassiere purses. The gentleman who seemed a little (read: a lot) intoxicated at the wine-tasting said he was sure his wife would enjoy the purse. Another guy thanked me for not announcing his winnings on his Facebook wall where all his cool, manly friends from the South Side could see.)

But, I would be remiss if I didn't mention all those who donated to the raffle. They are:


Jasmine Capener
www.jjcjewelry.etsy.com

Brian and Jamie Knoll
JAVA & Co.,
www.JAVAandCo.com,
(309) 361-3276

Designs by Maida, Inc.
105 E. Van Buren, Woodstock
(815) 337-2046

Robin Parsons, www.segparsons.etsy.com

Andi, www.rocknbauble.etsy.com

Cripple Creek Creations
www.cripplcreekcreations.etsy.com

Crystal Lindell and her blog
www.sevenlayerburritos.com

Dog In Suds, Ltd., Woodstock,
(815) 338-3647

Georgio’s Pizzeria & Pub,
75 E. Woodstock St., Crystal Lake,
(815) 459-8888

Lou Malnati’s Pizzeria
8515 Redtail Drive, Lakewood
(815) 7-8100

Harmony Falls, 728 E. Calhoun St., Woodstock, (815) 334-0842

LorEnn’s Halmark
135 S. Eastwood Drive, Woodstock,
(815) 338-6000

Glamorous Bead Accessories
http://store.auctiva.com/glamorousbeadaccessories

Kim Duchnowski
www.practicallypurses.etsy.com

I started planning this wine-tasting for the Breast Cancer 3-Day months ago. I asked complete strangers on Etsy.com to donate raffle items, made three brassiere purses, schemed on how to display said purses, and designed programs, raffle tickets and fliers. And for at least the last three weeks, that was all I could talk about (just ask my Facebook status updates. All about brassiere purses. And wine.)

And I was proud of the results. Several Etsy artists were supportive. My aunt drove in from Springfield and Aaron drove up from Plano to help me with the wine-tasting Friday night. I didn’t know about half of the 18 people who came, so at least some of my publicity efforts must have been successful. There was one breast-cancer survivor who thanked my aunt and me for our work, which was a nice reminder of why exactly I’m going to all this trouble in the first place.

The Corkscrew Pointe owner, John, was nice enough to offer me 10 percent of the sales of people who mention my fundraiser for the next three months.

(That’s right. If you buy wine from Corkscrew Pointe, 1402 N. Riverside Drive, McHenry, between now and Aug. 1, simply mention that you’d like part of the proceeds to go to breast cancer research, and I’ll get 10 percent of your total purchase.)

But when I got home, before I fell into bed, I counted up all the money from the evening. $465, including $50 in cash I brought as change. When I took out the change money, plus the $100 for the wine and another $100 for the food (including some excellent tarts from Tarts & Truffles on the Woodstock Square), I was left with $215. $215 after weeks of work.

And that means I’ve raised a total of $620. Only $1,680 to go until I reach the $2,300 minimum goal. Sigh.