Year-end reading notes

Since I started my blog in June of 2014, I've tried to share my reading notes each month or every few months.  This year, I have not kept up with that at all.  I last posted about books in May: January through April reading notes: ten reflections on books & reading

Even though I keep a record at Goodreads, I wanted to "close out" the year by writing about my reading here on my blog as well.  Listed below are the books I read from May through the end of the year.  I've starred and written a brief comment for my favorite reads of the last several months.  I look forward to writing about books more regularly in 2017. 

Fiction

 

**Eligible: A Modern Retelling of Pride and Prejudice by Curtis Sittenfeld
This is definitely the most enjoyable novel I read this year.  I loved it!  Highly recommended for Jane Austen fans and anyone looking for a fun read.

The Mare by Mary Gaitskill

Where'd You Go, Bernadette? by Maria Semple

The Abbey: A Story of Discovery by James Martin

Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld

The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton

Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline

Knock, Murder, Knock! by Harriet Rutland

The Girl in the Spider's Web by David Lagercrantz

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver

**The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead
Definitely the best book I read in 2016.  Powerful and brilliantly-written.  Highly recommended!

**Commonwealth by Ann Patchett
An interesting reflection on families and family stories from an author I admire.


Nonfiction

A Deadly Wandering: A Tale of Tragedy and Redemption by Matt Richtel

Crash Course: Essays From Where Writing and Life Collide by Robin Black

**Revolution: The Year I Fell in Love and Went to Join the Sandinistas by Deb Unferth Olin
Having lived in Central America at about the same time as the author and having visited many of the same places, I really enjoyed reading this memoir. 

Taking the Leap: Freeing Ourselves from Old Habits and Fears by Pema Chodron

**Small Wonder by Barbara Kingsolver
I love Barbara Kingsolver's essays!  Enough said. 

**Maggie's Angels: Loving, Living With, and Learning from a Special Needs Daughter by John T. McCarthy
I know the author of the book, his wife and their delightful daughter Maggie, so I really enjoyed reading their story as well as the stories about other families navigating the challenges and joys of their loved ones with special needs.  An inspiring read.

Thirteen Things Mentally Strong People Don't Do: Take Back Your Power, Embrace Change, Face Your Fears and Train Your Brain for Happiness and Success by Amy Morin


Children's and Young Adult Fiction

Lyddie by Katherine Paterson

Feed by M.T. Anderson

**The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer
A thought-provoking, creative and page-turning young adult novel about issues that are more relevant than ever - immigration, identity, science and ethics, the drug wars and more.  Highly recommended!

The Double Life of Pocahontas by Jean Fritz

Calico Bush by Rachel Field

Calico Captive by Elizabeth George Speare

The Skin I'm In by Sharon G. Flake

*****

Happy new year!

 

 

Minimalism revisited: out with the old...

At a Christmas celebration last week, a couple of cousins and I got to talking about decluttering and minimalism.  In February of 2015, I wrote the post Minimalist Mary says, "These boots were made for walking..."  about minimalism and getting rid of my seventeen-year-old boots.  Rereading the post nearly two years later, it still describes very well my attitude toward "stuff."  In fact, I'd say that I'm even more committed to the essence of the classic saying: "Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without."  It's not just about minimalism, simplicity and financial priorities, but also about being aware of the finite resources and the precarious state of our beautiful planet.



living in WI, good boots are a smart investment


Back to those boots...  After getting rid of my seventeen-year-old boots, I "made do" with some hand-me-down boots for a while.  This winter, it became clear that the hand-me-downs were deteriorating and causing me some serious foot problems.  Finally, I bought new boots.  I'm not sure they'll last seventeen years, but I definitely know I'll wear them out.
 
In the last week or so - my husband, three children and I individually went through our own closets and dressers.  We all had clothing that we were no longer wearing, whether we outgrew it or just didn't need or use it anymore.  A few big boxes went to Goodwill.  I personally do not want to have more clothing than I can fit in my closet and dresser.  This is not only about minimalism and keeping clutter at bay, but it's also about the simplicity that results from not having a lot of clothes to choose from.  I've seen blog or Facebook posts in recent years about having a "uniform" or "go-to" outfit.  I grew up with school uniforms and wore them for first grade through my senior year of high school.  As much as I may have tried to push the limits of the accepted shade or style of shirt allowed with my uniform skirt in high school, I did recognize the benefit of not having to think about an entire outfit everyday. 

As an adult, I have my own uniform of sorts.  Black yoga pants and t-shirts or sweatshirts for around the house. Jeans and a couple of blouses or sweaters for going out with friends. Dress pants and a skirt that can be used with the blouses or sweaters for work events.  And then just rotate through those options.  People in many parts of the world live in small dwelling spaces and have no choice but to limit their amount of clothing.  They don't have extra bedrooms or walk-in closets.  Many people, myself included, find the limited possibilities of less clothing to be very freeing.  Less to chose from means less time spent on thinking about it and choosing.  Of course, if fashion is your thing - then minimalism in this area may not work for you. But there might be other areas in your life where minimalism and simplicity will benefit you. 

As I was having that conversation with my cousins last week, we all acknowledged how clutter in our living spaces could lead to clutter in our minds.  By living with less stuff, we free our time and mental energy to focus on what's important to us rather than on taking care of stuff.  Getting rid of physical stuff can also motivate us to get rid of mental "stuff" or shed habits that aren't serving us anymore. 

Heading into the new year, I'll continue to declutter.  As much as I love my books, the bookshelves could use some culling.  And I'm also going to think about mental "stuff" or attitudes and habits that I might want to let go of as well

How about you?    

*****
For a couple of more humorous takes on minimalism and fashion, see also:
Shopping is NOT a recreational activity
My top three accessories for middle age

in-between

 

I walk in the park

crunching on dirty snow
and wafer-thin delicate ice
encapsulating the fallen leaves
tissue-paper-thin
fragile remnants
of last season
faded shades of brown
frozen on the
black asphalt
beautiful shapes
winter's designs
randomly created
more beautiful than
any human-made
assemblage

breathing deep the cold air
I can't resist
these beautiful scenes
and must take photos
...or so I think
Before the phone,
I would just look
before the phone,
the in-between
contained more
more silent waiting
more daydreams
more sitting still
more nothingness maybe?

now it's swipe
and click and
check and check
read or skim
take pictures
of everything
the in-between
makes me restless
and uncomfortable
in a way that
it used to not be

but the leaves and ice
the overlapping beauty
of autumn and winter
remind me
the spaces in between
can be beautiful
if I can just wait
and see the beauty
in between
one holiday and the next
one season and the next
one year and the next
one stage of life and the next

once there were
small children
in my life
now there are
teens and young adults
on the cusp of everything
and so am I too really
change for all of us
waiting, waiting, waiting

for the next thing
impatient for it
but maybe, maybe
I could for a moment
stop thinking about
what comes next
I could be quiet
look and listen
appreciate life's
random designs
the series of events
and circumstances
some of them controllable
most of them not at all

and let go
waiting
appreciating
in-between

*****

Walking in Kern Park has inspired my writing before.  See also:

I hug the trees too.
See the trees

lost. and found.

I haven't blogged or written much at all these past few months.  I lost my voice.  In uncertainty and changes and insecurity and all-the-same-old-excuses.  Sometimes there are just so many thoughts and ideas.  They come to me when I'm falling asleep or taking a shower or driving.  I rehearse the ideas in my head, or I push them away.  I'll write that down later.  Yet over and over again, I don't write anything down.  Until it's hard to begin again.  But last Friday night, as I sat in a coffee shop, I wrote down these words.  It is a start.  I am finding my way back again. 

lost. and found.

the words have remained up there
jumbled together
in my head
now jumbled
on the page

we must write carefully
neat penmanship
sweet, quiet, docile
neat words
edited to perfection
carefully formed
to not offend

and yet why

rather
let the words
spill out
sloppy handwriting
smudged ink
and all

the notebook page
stained with
spilled coffee
as i wait
what am i
waiting for

this messy world
breaks my heart
at times
fills it up others
sometimes to overfull

keeping it all
contained
because...
we're not supposed to
"rock the boat"
disagree - resist
reveal - express

we're not supposed to
"get emotional"
which is what
they call it
when you
express an
opinion - view
experience - thought

stay quiet, nice?
NO. NO. NO.

I will not
I will not
stay quiet
I will not
worry about
what anyone thinks
or
worry about
making people
feel better about
who they are
or
what they believe

use your voice

I'll use mine.

Still the one...

One year ago, I posted this on Facebook for our twentieth wedding anniversary.  And I kind of like it, so I'm reposting it on my blog today in honor of our 21st anniversary.

 

 

 

Twenty years ago today, we were married at St. Casimir Church. It was a fairly simple wedding. With a dress that I dreamed up and had a seamstress make for me. With zinnias & daylilies from my sister’s backyard garden. With photographs taken by two of my cousins.  We couldn’t stop smiling, we were so happy! And we still are.

 

Like most couples, we’ve had our ups and downs, our joys and trials.... Who knows what’s in store for us in the next 10, 20 or 30 years? Maybe we’ll reach our 50th wedding anniversary, as our parents did. 

 

I’m not one for hyperbolic statements or superlatives that imply comparisons or unrealistic expectations. I understand why people use these as shorthand to convey their joy or pride. As a writer, I’m a tiny bit picky about word choice though. I won’t say we’re the “best” or “happiest” or that “we love each other more and more each day.” Because some days we do think the best of each other, but other days not so much. Some days we love each other more, but other days we love each other less or perhaps not enough. That’s reality, and it’s our commitment to work through the days that aren’t the best that make a marriage (or any relationship) last. 

 

To my husband - I love you and, to quote the words of a 70s pop song (thanks, Orleans): “You're still the one / That makes me strong / Still the one / I want to take along / We're still having fun / And you're still the one”  <3

 

*****

 

Added today...  I turned eight years old in 1976, the year that Orleans' "Still The One" was released and became a Billboard hit.  Here's the song with lyrics for your listening pleasure:

 

 

 

 

Yesterday morning

Yesterday morning I went grocery shopping.  My husband and I arrived home from San Francisco Monday night, picked up our younger two children from my sister's house and came home to an empty refrigerator.  We also came home with four people rather than five, because we had just moved our oldest child to college.

Shopping for groceries, I thought of this change.  With our biggest eater away at college and not packing school lunches anymore, the things in my cart were a bit different.  As I was checking out, I vaguely heard from another checkout lane the sound of a crying baby whose mom was trying to comfort her.  I later saw that mom in the parking lot loading her groceries into the back of her car, with a baby in the front carrier and a toddler in the shopping cart seat.  I quickly put my own groceries in the back of the van and returned my shopping cart.  The mom of the littles was heading to return her own cart, and I offered to take it for her.  I remembered shopping with two or three little ones in tow, toting them along in a combination of carrier or backpack and shopping cart.  I said to her "It's hard to shop with little ones.  You're doing a good job, mama."  We smiled at each other and went our separate ways.

I returned to my car full of emotion.  Because here's what I didn't say:  It goes so fast.  Too fast.  Appreciate these times.  I just dropped off my oldest son at college a couple thousand miles away, and my heart is full of.  Full of...pride, sadness, excitement, worry, joy.  All those things jumbled together.   

 

All those things jumbled together...  Earlier this summer, I was quickly flipping through photos for a poster the night before my son's graduation party.  I came across this one.  He's about a year and a half old.  The stuffed monkey pre-dates the little boy.  It was a gift from my sister when she and my mom visited me in Guatemala when I had surgery there.  I don't remember when or how the boy and the monkey became acquainted.  There were other stuffed animals in the house, which he received as gifts before and after his birth.  But for some reason, this was the one.  We named him Georgie, after the storybook character Curious George.  The little boy carried Georgie with him just about everywhere during his toddler years, and then slept with him in his bed or kept him in his room for many years afterward.  

 

Georgie eventually ended up in a basket full of stuffed animals in the basement.  Feeling sentimental about my son's upcoming move, I went to look for Georgie a couple of weeks ago.  I brought him upstairs.  Georgie has all the signs of being a well-loved stuffed animal.  The ear that was rubbed for comfort is worn, as are patches of "fur" where he was hugged and cuddled.  A couple of days after I brought Georgie upstairs, he disappeared.  The boy, now a young man, had taken him to his room. 

 

The days before taking our son to college were filled with lots of activity - packing, a family dinner, goodbyes to friends-family-coworkers, paperwork, and preparation for the trip.  In a flurry, with little time for reflection, we boarded our plane on Thursday morning.  The plane was full, and the three of us were unable to sit together.  Alone at my window seat, I put some photos of family and friends into a small album for my son.  Finally able to sit and think a bit, tears streamed down my face.  I didn't dare engage in conversation with the couple sitting next to me.  I was too emotional for that. 

 

The weekend was full of visiting with my cousin and her family (the lovely people with whom we stayed!), exploring San Francisco, moving our son into the dorms and attending orientation events.  It was truly a wonderful weekend.  On Sunday, while my son and husband attended one orientation workshop, I attended another.  My workshop ended early, and I took a few moments to write a "quick" letter to my son.  It ended up being nearly three pages.  The time of our parting was Sunday evening, and we all felt the inevitable approaching.  Then we did it - the three of us shared our goodbyes, full of emotion and assured of each other's love.  The next morning my husband and I boarded our plane for home.  I cried once again as the plane took off.  

 

You will think I am terribly sad.  I am certainly a little bit sad, but also full of other emotions.  I am so proud of my son who is spreading his wings in the way that he has chosen for himself.  And I'm excited for the opportunities before him.  I'm incredibly grateful and happy for the amazing journey of being his mom and watching him grow.  Tears flow from feeling all of those things deeply too. 

 

And so four of us returned home to our house in Milwaukee Monday night.  We all caught up on our five days apart.  On Tuesday, groceries were picked up and laundry was washed.   Later in the day, I looked in on my son's room.  He admitted he had left it a mess in the midst of last minute packing, so I wasn't surprised.  The room is littered with the stereotypical detritus of a teenage boy's life.  The clothes he decided to leave behind are flung about.  Crumpled school papers, a CD, a jar full of change and a crusty cereal bowl and spoon are crowded among other things on the desk.  A bath towel is flung over the chair.  The bed is unmade.  But sitting very neatly on the pillow at the top of the bed is Georgie.  And, oh my heart, I think...he's always there for you.  Just like we are.  Happy for you and missing you and figuring out how to adjust to you being so far away.  And here for you.  Always.   

 

 

 



Fear & the illusion of control

Popular "mommy bloggers" and others have already written extensively and very well about all the parent blaming and shaming that have occurred in the wake of recent incidents - the toddler who fell into the gorilla exhibit at the zoo and the two year old who tragically died when he was dragged away by an alligator in Florida.  I cannot imagine the grief of losing a child, and I hold the family of that little boy in my heart and pray for them.  As other parents have mentioned, this could have been us.  One of my three children was definitely the type to wander off in public places as a younger child.  I didn't raise him any differently than the other two.  He got the same safety talks and the same preparation for outings.  I am a fairly vigilant parent.  Nonetheless, when he was around preschool age, we lost him once for several minutes at a wildlife park up north.  Even more scary, when he was about nine years old, we lost him when he wandered off on a family trip in a foreign country where he did not speak the language.  We were lucky.  We found him both times, and he was okay.

The moment we become parents, we begin to fear for our children's safety.  In various ways and to various extents.  Some parents will be more relaxed.  Others will be more worried.  All parents will fear for their children though.  We will want to control things to keep our children safe.  But we cannot control everything.  There are many, many things outside of our control. 

I experienced this very early in parenthood, when my oldest child was born with a heart defect and had open heart surgery at two weeks old.  I've written about this in my post "This baby."  But here's an interesting thing I remember...  In the midst of those weeks of recovery after his surgery, while explaining the surgery, the recovery, all my time at the hospital, the medications, trying to start up breastfeeding again, etc., someone said to me, "I couldn't do it."  I was slightly taken aback, but I didn't think about it much until later.  You couldn't do it?  Yes, you could.  You would have to.  You have to deal with what happens.  Some people also asked me in the weeks afterward, "Do they know why he was born with a heart defect?"  or "What happened during your pregnancy?"  Well, neither my husband nor I have a family history of heart defects or problems.  And I didn't do anything crazy during my pregnancy either, if that's what they were hinting at.  Obviously, somewhere in utero my son's heart did not develop normally.  We even participated in a study at Children's Hospital to help researchers understand, diagnose, and maybe prevent this sort of thing from happening. 

It's okay to ask questions and to seek solutions to prevent further problems or tragedies.  It's okay to say that zoo exhibits should be constructed with more of a barrier between the public and the animals.  Or maybe even to say, "Should we really have these creatures in captivity at all?"  It's okay to say there should be better signage at bodies of water that contain alligators or to wonder about other ways to prevent what happened at that resort in Florida.  But it's not okay to blame parents or to shame them.  People are upset when they hear these types of accidents or tragedies.  They want to think it could never happen to them.  And so they comfort themselves by blaming, I think.  It makes them feel like they are in control.  But they aren't. 

I have a child who is going to attend college very far away in a few short months.  I am nervous and excited.  And yes, I'll be worried.  I will not be able to control what happens to him there.  But nor am I able to control everything that happens to him while he still lives in the same city and even under the same roof.  We cannot control everything that happens.  We love, teach, parent, advocate and live to the best of our abilities.  We cannot control the world we live in.  What we can do is let go of that illusion.  We can try to trust more and fear less.  And most importantly, we can try to live with more compassion in the face of the tragedies and frailties of human life.  That's what we can do.

Any of you dummies know how to type?

Today my mom and I visited the cemetery where my dad is buried.  My dad has been gone for five and a half years.  I miss him so much.  My dad had an amazing memory for stories from his childhood and young adulthood.  I regret that I didn't write down more of them.  An acquaintance recently asked if my dad served in the military, and I remembered the story of how he landed his particular assignment as a young draftee in the Korean War.  I interviewed my dad and wrote this story for a family newsletter over twenty years ago.  And I'm so glad I did, because I wouldn't have remembered all the details that he told me at the time.   

This is a photo reproduction of a drawing of my dad that is dated October 17, 1954. 
Given the artist's signature and the date, I'm assuming this was done while my dad was on leave in Japan. 

My dad was drafted into the army on his 20th birthday, Christmas Eve 1952.  He remembered how hard this was for his mom, being Christmastime.  On January 26th, my Dad reported to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.  There he went through training - infantry, combat engineering and carpentry.  After basic training, my dad and the other soldiers took a train to Washington State.  He told me about a bus trip to one of the Aleutian Islands before setting sail for Korea.  There was only one tree on the whole island, with a sign posted next to it - "Adak National Park."  I just googled "Adak National Park" and found that Adak National Forest contains exactly 33 pine trees.  Apparently Christmas trees were planted to cheer up troops stationed there during World War II, but the climate wasn't conducive.  According to the link:  "At one point, there was only a single tree left. It was at this time that the sign that reads "You are now ENTERING and LEAVING The ADAK NATIONAL FOREST" was placed here on a whim by soldiers in the early 1960s."  My dad's account suggests that the sign was there prior to the early 1960s.  Further reading tells that the site is now a National Historic Landmark for its role in World War II.   

From the U.S., my dad and the other soldiers sailed on a troop ship carrying 2,000 people to Pusan, Korea.  On my dad's way over to Korea, a cease fire had been signed, but the negotiations went on long after that.  Upon their arrival in Pusan, the troops rode in a truck to the engineering battalion.  They were to work as combat engineers, setting up bridges and other structures.  But when they got to the battalion, the Battalion Adjutant asked if any of the recruits knew how to type.  Although I don't have this in my written account, I clearly remember my dad quoting the Battalion Adjutant as saying, "Any of you dummies know how to type?"  My dad was the only one to raise his hand.  He had taken two semesters of typing in high school.  The adjutant told him to report to the Administration Area, which my dad referred to as "just a Quonset hut with desks."  The next day, my dad was handed the "Universal Code of Military Justice" and told to type the entire book, which was as large as a textbook.  He remembers that it took him two to three weeks to type the book.  That's all he did seven days a week for those few weeks.  Because he was serving in a combat zone, there were no days off - not even Saturdays and Sundays. 

When my dad finished typing the book, the adjutant told him that he was now going to be the battalion legal clerk.  That meant that he was the court reporter on all trials and also served as a resource person for the defense attorney.  My dad remembered that they usually assigned the defense attorney duties to the "new officer on the block," and the prosecutor was often more experienced.  They didn't really want the enlisted to win.  My dad sat in on all the trials and disciplinary hearings.  He was responsible for recording the testimony, every word of who said what.  This was without the help of today's modern technology.  He went to the trials equipped with plenty of legal pads and pencils and took down everything in his own version of shorthand.  The next day he typed up the report, and then it went to headquarters for officer approval.    

Because of my dad's court reporting skills, he was sent on a temporary assignment to the Demilitarized Zone for "Operation Glory."  This was the process whereby the North Korean-Chinese forces and the South Korean-U.S. forces exchanged bodies.  My dad sat in a tent and prepared lists with the names of the deceased.  Another temporary duty included going to an island off the southern tip of the peninsula that was used as a POW camp.  There were not any prisoners there at the time.  He was there to take inventory before the island was turned over to the South Korean government.  While serving in Korea, my dad took a couple of R & R trips to Japan.  He was in Korea a total of one year, ten months and twenty-two days.  He was drafted for the usual two years, but was let off early for having served in a combat zone and in order to be home in time for Christmas 1954. 

My dad was always glad that he learned how to type; it saved him from more dangerous military duties.  Maybe that's why he encouraged all seven of his children to take typing during high school.  When my siblings and I were in high school back in the 1970s and 1980s, none of us knew how big a part of our lives personal computers were going to be some day.  But given that reality, we're all grateful that we learned how to type. 

Thanks, Dad!  We love you and miss you every single day! 

I hug the trees too.

Today's blog post, continuing in the form of a list, is based on a journal entry I wrote after a walk in the park about one month ago.

1.  It was a beautiful, sunny Friday afternoon in April.  A rare day this spring that has often felt more like winter.

2.  I went for a walk to visit my favorite trees in the neighborhood park.

3.  Approaching the trees at the top of the hill, I was hidden from the view of anyone at the basketball court or playground but within sight of a woman walking her dog down near the tennis court.

4.  Still, I walked up to the first tree and put my right hand on its beautiful-old-strong trunk.  I closed my eyes and stood there for a moment, just breathing.

5.  The warm sun and a slight breeze touched my face.  A crow called boisterously and squirrels scampered in last year's dead leaves under a cluster of newly-budding shrubs.  From from across the river came sounds of drilling and construction. 

6.  I opened my eyes and walked down to another of my favorite trees, one that's off the path and closer to the tennis court.  It crossed my mind for a second that my tree visiting might appear strange to the woman with the dog. 

7.  I put my hand on the other tree also.  Then I leaned into a curve in its trunk that held and supported me.  It felt more like receiving a hug than giving one.  It felt good.   

8.  The trees are steadfast and give me peace when I visit them.  Our individual lives and the world at large are often both full of changes and instability, uncertainty and chaos.  The trees change with the seasons but remain standing, steady and strong.

9.  Returning down the path, I met the woman and her dog walking up.  We smiled at each other.  "I hug the trees too," she said.  Our conversation was brief, remarking on the beauty of the trees and the fine weather.  We shared a moment and wished each other a good day.  I know my day was lighter and sweeter for the exchange.  I hope hers was too. 

10. Nature, neighbors, vulnerability, openness, connection.  A walk in the park.

*****

I purposely did not bring my phone with me on the walk chronicled above. 
The photos in this post were taken today.

 

I've written about these trees before in the post "See the trees."
You might also like "Nature therapy." 

January through April reading notes: ten reflections on books & reading

Last Monday, I wrote about the difficulty of getting back to writing after not doing so for several weeks.  I had the idea of starting with lists and came up with a list of ten writing goals for May.  My last installment of reading notes was at the end of 2015.  So today's list catches up my reading notes with reflections on reading and books from the last few months. 

1.  Reading books in different places makes them memorable in different ways.  I was totally engrossed in Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None on our recent trip to Poland.  The weather was rainy and gloomy for a few days, which coincided with the mood of the book.  I often have stronger memories of books that I read on trips or vacations.  I'll never forget how the release of the last two Harry Potter books coincided with our annual northwoods summer vacation.  I had Amazon ship those books to the resort where we stayed in St. Germain and devoured the books lakeside, lounging at the cabin and in bed late at night and into the morning.

  
2.  Two girls who changed the world:  I enjoyed reading two very moving, but structurally different, autobiographies and discussing them with our middle school literature group.  Through My Eyes by Ruby Bridges is more of an advanced picture book autobiography with Bridges looking back at the tumultuous events of her childhood through her remembrances and those of the adults in her life as well as photographs and news accounts.  I am Malala: How One Girl Stood Up for Education and Changed the World by Malala Yousafzai and Patricia McCormick is the young readers edition of Malala's compelling and heroic story.

3.  I love a really good mystery.  As mentioned in #1 above, I read And Then There Were None.  I pride myself on often guessing the culprits in mystery stories, but Agatha Christie kept me guessing (and compulsively reading!) until the end.  I look forward to watching the 2015 BBC miniseries adaption of the book.   

4.  I also love all things Jane Austen.  Which is why I really enjoyed Longbourn by Jo Baker, a book that tells the story of the servants of the house at the same time as the events of Pride and Prejudice.  Purists or "Janeites" may disagree and lament the inaccuracies and anachronisms, but for me it was a delightful pleasure to revisit the settings and characters from a different perspective.

5.  Modern day angst can be funny but also annoying.  I laughed out loud at Lauren Fox's wry observations on parenthood in Days of Awe.  Rainbow Rowell also makes some keen observations in her book Landline.  Both of these books deal with faltering or failing marriages.  The protagonists in both sometimes annoyed me with their self-absorption.

6.  Dystopian fiction is addicting.  Still.  I enjoyed Julianna Baggott's Harriet Wolf's Seventh Book of Wonders last year, so I thought I'd try her post-apocalyptic Pure Trilogy.  These books are better written, darker, deeper and include more science fiction elements than other series that I've read in this genre. 

7.  There are pros and cons of reading on an e-reader or tablet.  On the one side, attempting to read a very long novel, such as Daniel Deronda by George Eliot, on a transatlantic trip - I appreciated the lightness and portability of the device as opposed to the heft of a nearly 900 page book.  On the other hand, it was harder to page back when I was trying to remember what the heck was going on.  I do love Victorian-era novels, but they are not easy to read.    




8.  "Southern novels" - I want to look away, but I can't.  I decided to read The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers because my son was reading it for American Literature class.  This is a beautifully-written novel.  McCullers wrote it when she was only in her early twenties!  The fascinating and ultimately tragic characters really drew me in and illuminate the darker realities of the human condition.  But it was so, so sad.

9.  I learn a lot from books I read with my children.  Norse myths, yellow fever, the Magna Carta...just a few examples of stuff I wouldn't know much about otherwise.

10.  I read more before I had so much technology in my life.  The bombardment of information from so many different sources is definitely distracting to me.  That doesn't mean I have to look at it, but I often do.  One of my writing-related goals from last week is to focus on reading more books rather than clicking to read random articles.   

*****

January through April complete reading list:

Through My Eyes by Ruby Bridges
Burn by Julianna Baggott
Fuse by Julianna Baggott
D'Aulaire's Book of Norse Myths by Ingri D'Aulaire and Edgar Parin E'Aulaire
The Secret Chord by Geraldine Brooks
Days of Awe by Lauren Fox
American Copper by Shann Ray
Fever 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson
Longbourn by Jo Baker
The Door in the Wall by Marguerite deAngeli
I am Malala: How One Girl Stood Up for Education and Changed the World (Young Reader's Edition) by Malala Yousafzai and Patricia McCormick
Landline by Rainbow Rowell
And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie
The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers
Daniel Deronda by George Eliot
The Magna Carta by Walter Hodges
Knight's Castle by Edward Eager
Echo by Pam Munoz Ryan

New month, new me? Making lists & getting back to writing

Over six weeks have passed since I visited this space or since I've written much at all.  And that's not good, because writing is essential to my well-being in many ways.  I wrote about this in the post "Why Write" almost two years ago:

...writing actually makes me feel better.  I love the way author Lori Pickert describes this sentiment in one of her blog posts:  "Writing makes me feel happier and less likely to stab someone with a fork, so I'm going to try to do it a little more often."

Lots of ideas have been percolating in my mind, but I haven't put pen to paper,  The longer I haven't written, the harder it has become to start again.  This is not news to me.  I know this.  But still I make the same mistake.  Why?  Fear, procrastination, perfectionism, time-wasting, busy-ness, etc.

Regardless, I need to plunge back in.  I had a "breakthrough" at yoga this morning.  Just start making lists.  So I started composing a few of them right there in my head during savasana.  And I jotted down some ideas when I got home.  And today's list is:

Ten writing-related goals for May:

1.  Write everyday, starting today.  Even if just for ten minutes. 

2.  Blog once a week.

3.  Work on drafts for two essay ideas I have from our recent trip to Poland.

4.  Complete and post my first vlog (video log).  This is something I've already started working on.

5.  Revise any one of the various pieces written in my online writing classes and submit it. 

6.  Read Crash Course: Essays from Where Writing and Life Collide by Robin Black

7.  Read more books and less "articles" that appear in Facebook.  Yep, I'm looking at you "Top 10 Celebrity Plastic Surgery Botches." 

8.  Color, collage, draw with chalk on the sidewalk, etc. - do some "art" once a week. 

9.  Go on a solitary walk or hike once a week.

10.  Continue going to yoga on Monday mornings.

Only half of the goals involve writing.  But even the goals that are not actual writing are very much writing-related. 

Stay tuned for more lists!

You had a bad day.

A couple of weeks ago
you had a bad day

You woke up in the morning
with a splitting headache
you felt nauseous and
you haven't felt that close
to vomiting in ages
what did you eat
yesterday?

You still went to
get your haircut
she washed your hair
massaged your head and
made your frizz
pretty and smooth
that was a not-bad
part of the day
and the headache
went away

You got an e-mail
that you were not
selected for that thing
you auditioned for
again
you were disappointed
you cried just a little bit
alone in the bathroom

Your kid found out
that he didn't get
that one scholarship
you were all
hoping for
that would have made
all college decisions
easier

You took your
tween & teenagers
shopping
you hate shopping
the kids found stuff
but not you
in all of the stores
none of the clothes
fit you

You moped somewhat
you listened to
sad songs
you went to a fish fry
with family you love
at your mom's church
cheap beer and
all you can eat
that was another
not-bad part of the day

A few days later
you received a gift
from a friend
more importantly
the letter she wrote
we (parents) all do the best we can
and she encouraged you
to keep writing
and you needed that

And even though
you had a bad day
you know your bad day
is not so bad at all
because
your bad day
still includes
a house
central heating
indoor plumbing
clean water
beds and clothes
stores and food
books and libraries
freedom and peace
your friends
your family
joy faith hope
love love love

*****

When I have a bad day, I think of the children's book Alexander and the Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.  I can't remember much of the plot since I haven't read it for years.  But what a great title!  If I'm feeling melancholy or dramatic, it might help me laugh at myself a bit.  "Mary and the Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day"  :)

Also, this song:

Am I distracted or just interested in a lot of stuff?

Goal-setting, self-discipline, productivity and time management - I'm interested in all of these topics.  I've written about them before and also about the distractions of computers, the internet and social media.  I was thinking about all of the above because lately I've been feeling kind of like that mouse in the children's book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie by Laura Joffe Numeroff. 

If you're not familiar with the book, you can hear it read aloud here.  Like the mouse in the book, each thing I do gives me the idea that I want or need to do another thing, sometimes related and sometimes not.  Or I attempt to do multiple things at the same time and call it "multi-tasking."  I can certainly talk on the phone while I'm folding laundry or doing the dishes.  But other combinations, like reading and overseeing schoolwork, don't mesh so well.  I'm sitting in one room reading and hear, "What are prime numbers, again?" from the other room.  I'm not giving adequate attention to either my math student or to the story I'm reading for a class.  I actually waste time, because I'm going to have to reread the story anyway.  And I know that when I'm attentive to my student, she tends to get her math done more efficiently.  There are plenty of articles that cite research about the inefficacy and even danger of multitasking.  In fact, "Multitasking is Killing Your Brain" according to one article.

But the feeling of the mouse in the book is more a lack of focus than multitasking.  Does the mouse have an attention problem?  Does doing one thing make him realize he must do another?  Or is he just really enthusiastic about and interested in things?  What about me?  If I walk down to the basement to scoop out the cat litter and notice the stairs need vacuuming, then scooping the cat litter leads me to vacuuming the stairs.  Or ignoring them if I don't have time.  But when looking at pictures in a book makes the mouse want to draw, his lack of focus comes from excitement or enthusiasm.  In my case, I just finished reading the book I Am Malala: How One Girl Stood Up for Education and Changed the World (Young Readers Edition), and I'll be leading a discussion of the book with a group of middle school girls.  We also watched the documentary He Named Me Malala last night.  (I highly recommend both the book and the movie, by the way.) 

So today - instead of using the hours when my daughter was at her gym class to work as I had planned, I stopped at the library and checked out a few books about Pakistan.  Then I came home, went to the basement and looked through a big plastic tub that holds several years of National Geographic Magazine to see if any focused on Pakistan.  Those were both fine things to do, except I had allotted that time for work.  Well, I just pushed the work into the evening and got it done.  But I didn't really have to look through all those magazines.  I only found one about Pakistan.  Then I remembered that there is an online subject index for National Geographic.  When I typed in "Pakistan," only that issue came up.  That would have saved me the time I spent scanning the spines of all those magazines.  In that case, technology would have been a time-saver not a time-waster. 

So...am I distracted or just interested in a lot of stuff?  Both, I imagine.  Still, I think I'd feel less stressed and have more time to do the things I want to do, if I made more of an effort to put some boundaries around my time.  My schedule - both work and home - allows for a lot of flexibility.  That's good.  Unlike the fictional mouse in the book, however, I do have real responsibilities.  It might be better to stick to a stricter schedule.  It also might be better to focus on one thing at a time and finish it before I start something else.  I've already thought of some things that would help with this - turning off notifications about work or personal emails and setting aside certain times for each of those, for example.     

Now, speaking of cookies - I smell something baking in the kitchen and that's a distraction I'm going to follow...

Share what you know...

When our oldest child was little and wanted to play soccer, there was an elaborate network of having to know someone who knew someone in order to even find out how to register.  We clearly weren't in the right parent groups or neighborhoods or social settings where the carefully-rationed information about soccer for kids was openly shared.  This was before such information and registrations were available online.  So I definitely give props to the internet as a great equalizer for access to information.  Anyway, I was eventually told that my son might be able to get on a team although it could be full.  Then I was given specific yet mysterious directions about going to someone’s porch to pick up a form and returning it there with a check.  I felt like I was in the "Soup Nazi" episode of Seinfeld.  If I made a slight mistake and did not follow the secret soccer sign-up protocol exactly, someone was going to pop out and yell at me, "No soccer for you!"  And this was for recreational soccer.  For five year olds! 

That was a long time ago and my memory is embellished with a dash of hyperbole and a pinch of resentment.  Still, I think most of us have had experiences when people - for no logical reason - hoard information that could help us or others.  As a new teacher, I encountered colleagues who wouldn't share information about where to find the extra textbooks or details regarding the fire drill procedure.  Thank goodness there were also supportive people who shared that information openly.  Another example I remember is asking an acquaintance about a program her kids were involved in, because I considered her to have some expertise in that area.  And she told me to "google it."  Generally speaking, if people ask you a question, it's because they think you have some particular insight or experience that you might be willing to share.  They already know that they can google it.  I'm not sure why people didn't share information in these situations.  Did they feel that they've somehow "earned it" the hard way and that I should have to as well?
 
When people hold in or hoard information, they create a feeling of separation and disconnection in relationships with others.  When people share information, they create connection.  It's that simple. 

Recently one of my best friends asked me what I know about getting passports for kids.  We just went through that process, and she was needing to get a passport for one of her children too.  Of course, I was glad to tell her what I know.  She's my friend.  But even when an acquaintance or neighbor or co-worker or someone who isn't a friend asks me for some information, because they feel I might know something about a certain topic - I'm happy to share what I know.  Why not?  If I truly don't know or can't help, then I can just say that.  I've been fortunate to be on the receiving end of helpful information so many times.  I want to do the same for others if I can.

This is on my mind recently as we support our son through college and financial aid applications.  The process is still ongoing.  Let's just say we've run into a glitch that is not of our own making.  I've reached out to various people - who are paid to work in this field - with questions.  Some people could have shared information but did not.  Others patiently answered questions and shared information.  I have learned a ton about this process, and I'm already telling my friends with younger children to please-please ask me questions down the road.  I may not be an expert.  I may not be able to answer every question.  But you can be sure that I will freely share anything I know that may help you.    

Share what you know.  

Full disclosure:  I kind of wanted to title this post "Share that sh*t!"  It's so catchy and captures how strongly I feel about this topic.  But I wasn't sure if I really wanted a swear word in my blog title.  Still, I had to get it in here somewhere.  :)

Who's in charge of celebrations? I am. And so are you.

With this post, I'm "celebrating" the fifth week in a row of posting once-per-week to my blog.  It's a minor celebration. 

Recently, I wrote about traditions and holidays in my post "Happy Groundhog Day! But I didn't make a special dessert."  It was a light-hearted reflection on celebrating and keeping traditions, or not, in our own ways.  It made me think of the picture book I'm In Charge of Celebrations by Byrd Baylor.  In the book, the narrator tells of her various celebrations based on the natural beauty and seasons of the desert where she lives.  There are Dust Devil Day, Green Cloud Day and Coyote Day, for example. 

From the book:

Last year I gave myself one hundred and eight celebrations - besides the ones that they close school for.  I cannot get by with only a few.  Friend, I'll tell you how it works.  I keep a notebook and I write the date and then I write about the celebration.

You can tell what's worth a celebration because your heart will POUND and you'll feel like you're standing on top of a mountain and you'll catch your breath like you were breathing some new kind of air.

When my kids were little, we used to sometimes look for these kinds of celebrations.  We didn't write them down or remember them each year.  But we enjoyed acknowledging celebrations such as Jump-in-Rain-Puddles Day. 

February is a smorgasbord of minor holidays - Groundhog Day, Valentine's Day, Presidents' Day.  Valentine's Day is the most blatantly commercial of these, although Presidents' Day has become the reason for all sorts of special sales as you can see from the ads and commercials.  Somehow, I don't think George Washington and Abraham Lincoln would approve of the consumerism.  Many holidays have become agents of consumerism and unrealistic or unmet expectations.  Valentine's Day, I'm looking at you.  A liturgical feast day, which originated in medieval times, morphed into the cultural and commercial holiday we have today.  It's fairly arbitrary.  So celebrate it if you want.  Or not.  And you don't even have to acknowledge it on social media.  It will be okay.   

Remember to put yourself in charge of celebrations.  And definitely make up some of your own!  

still, holiday crafts can be very fun...

Fasting from Facebook?

I'm not going to give up Facebook for Lent.  At least not entirely.  But it has crossed my mind.  I continue to grapple with the impact of email/social media/internet on my time and my attention. 

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent.  I am Catholic, and I fast during Lent.  Fasting is part of many religious traditions.  Muslims fast during the month of Ramadan.  Jews, Hindus and Buddhists also fast at times.  My cursory research into religious fasting revealed that these religions share somewhat-similar reasons for fasting, which are specific to their beliefs, but generally relate to:  self-discipline, atonement, time for prayer and spiritual reflection, preparing for or commemorating an event, sacrifice (money saved from fasting is donated to those in need).  Fasting is meant to be a spiritually-transformative practice for the believer.  We do not fast so that we can lose weight and fit into our swimsuits.  However, people also fast for non-religious reasons related to physical or mental health.  And indeed fasting, whether as a spiritual or health practice, can mean more than just abstaining from food.  We can fast from other things - material goods, activities, habits, etc.  We can fast from Facebook.

   

I have mixed feelings about fasting from Facebook.  Checking e-mail or Facebook and internet browsing are all activities that can be superfluous or time-wasters.  They would be appropriate activities to fast from in terms of my spiritual beliefs, because the pull of these "electronic" distractions can take away from time spent in prayer or reflection.  At the same time, these forms of communication and interaction are also activities that are essential to my life in ways.  If you're a parent, you know that the majority of communications related to schools and activities is done electronically these days.  For my work, I need to check my email a certain number of times per day and maintain a Facebook page.  In addition, I connect with various groups and communities - friends, family, church, school, homeschool, neighborhood - through Facebook and email.  I also want to share my blog posts on Facebook.  I have learned about books, events and ideas that have made my life better and that I otherwise wouldn't have known about through the internet.  I have taken an online writing course and am starting another one soon.  These are wonderful opportunities and can be important ways to connect.  In fact, the internet can be invaluable to people who might be isolated or marginalized for a variety of reasons, because it allows them to connect with people in similar circumstances or reach out for support from like-minded individuals.   

The bottom line is that I often use email/FB/internet intentionally and purposefully.  But sometimes, I use them mindlessly, and that's the downside.  So rather than fasting from them entirely, I'd like to fast from them periodically or restrict them to certain days or times of the day.  I don't have the solution yet.  But obviously, it's something I think about fairly often since I've blogged on this theme before:

Modern-life maladies & their antidotes
The Case for Space
I don't need to know about Mario Puzo and other lessons from Screen-Free Week

*****

I also really love, love, love this post 7 Ways To Be Insufferable On Facebook from the website Wait but Why.  The "7 Ways" post is pretty hilarious, and you should definitely read it.  You'll recognize others and probably yourself.  Most of us have created an "insufferable" post at some point.  And really - who cares what people post on Facebook, because no one is forcing you to read it.  I have to admit, though, that I do find some of the "7 Ways" particularly egregious, such as the "The Crypic Cliffhanger" and "The Inexplicably-Public Private Message."  Ha!  "The Step Toward Enlightenment" is potentially annoying too.  Recently people were posting a meme with the quote "It doesn't matter if you can quote the Bible, if you live like you've never opened it."  Well...yeah, of course!  But that could apply to just about any quote, belief, opinion, proverb or nugget of wisdom that people share on FB.  It doesn't matter what you quote on FB, if you live like you haven't read it... 

Still, we don't want to overthink things too much.  I myself am in no way prone to overthinking things /sarcasm off/.  Lately, I have sometimes thought...what is my purpose in wanting to post this?  If it means that I'm going to spend time checking reactions or engaging in discussions or responses that will take time away from other priorities, maybe I should think twice and go read a book, pray, call a friend, take a walk or write instead.   

Happy Groundhog Day! But I didn't make a special dessert.

I've never actually made a special dessert for Groundhog Day.  Although I am very glad to hear that Punxsutawney Phil did not see his shadow and therefore predicts an early spring.  And I do like the Bill Murray movie Groundhog Day!



from FamilyFun magazine - these Punxsutawney Pudding Cups are pretty cute

A few years ago, I wrote the following for an essay published in a homeschooling magazine:

"We have a lot of traditions, those my husband and I have grown up with and those that we have created with our own children.  These traditions may involve just us or extended family; they may be related to seasonal changes or secular or religious holidays.  Our traditions nurture connectedness, whether it's reading the special card or wearing the silly crown I make for each birthday, baking and decorating cookies every Christmas with their cousins, or watching the movie Groundhog Day every February."  

I love traditions.  I even enjoy making special desserts for special occasions.  As I wrote above, participating in traditions with family, friends and others is a way to be connected with them and adds joy to our seasons and celebrations.  But traditions can threaten to lose their joy, I think, if we take them too seriously.  Speaking of which, I didn't send out Christmas cards in December.  It's the first year I haven't done so in at least seventeen years.  There was no particular reason.  I've managed to send out cards in years when I was much busier.  I even sent them out in 2010, the year when my dad died on December 23rd.  The truth is that I do enjoy sending out Christmas cards and receiving them too.  It just didn't happen this past year for whatever reason, and that's okay.

We also didn't carve pumpkins last Halloween.  When I say "we" didn't carve pumpkins, I'm being pretty generous.  My kids are conveniently grossed out by de-gutting pumpkins.  I don't mind it.  We all enjoy carving the pumpkins and roasting and eating the pumpkin seeds though.  But October was very busy.  Or maybe I'm putting less pressure on myself to keep up these traditions.  The kids are older.  I've gotten older too (it's true!) and more mellow.  Traditions are fun when we enjoy participating in them together, but can seem more like a chore if we feel they are just one more thing to cross off the "to do" list. 

That doesn't mean I've given up on Christmas cards or Jack O'Lanterns.  I'm sure I'll continue to carve pumpkins with my family, send out Christmas cards and make special desserts for special occasions.  But if we take a year off from our traditions, that's fine too.  Now, back to thinking about sweet treats.  February is here, and frosted heart cookies are right around the corner!

*****

This is definitely not a lifestyle blog about homemaking.  However, please indulge me as I include photos of some of the special treats we've made for holidays and birthdays over the years.