Saturday Morning Sleep-In



Yesterday was 40 degrees and rainy all day, not normal weather for a Minnesota January.  Today we woke to 14 degrees and a world of ice.  That is typical Minnesota weather!  We were going to go for a long walk at the University Arboretum.  We were going to take the kids snowtubing with friends this afternoon.  But it's a treacherous walk just getting down the driveway for the paper. 

We slept in. We're staying in, having coffee, cocoa, and easy sopapillas (picture above, recipe below).  If we feel ambitious later, we may walk up to the local hardware store as I continually forget to put "lightbulbs" on my shopping list (with all these lamps, you'd think I'd remember lightbulbs!) and we've come to the point of moving a lightbulb from a lamp in one room to a lamp in another.  That's pretty bad.  So, maybe we'll walk to the hardware store and buy lightbulbs.

For our "Mom" bookclub, we're reading The Flight of Gemma Hardy (a modern day Jane Eyre), as well as the original Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre, and I'm am thoroughly enjoying the experience.  I can't wait for the meeting and the time spent with friends, discussing/comparing these two books.  I read Jane Eyre years ago so, this go 'round, I read Gemma Hardy first and am now rereading Jane Eyre.  I think today is a day to spend in a chair by the fire with my book.

Sopapillas

Thaw Time: 40 minutes

Prep Time: 5 minutes

Bake Time: 15 minutes

Ingredients

½ of a 17.3-ounce package Pepperidge Farm Puff Pastry Sheets (1 sheet), thawed

¾ cup sugar

1 Tbsp ground cinnamon

Directions

Heat the oven to 400 degrees F.  Unfold the pastry sheet on a lightly floured surface.  Cut the pastry sheet into 25 (2-inch) squares.  Place the sugar and cinnamon into a paper bag (or glass container w/tight lid) and shake to combine.

Bake pastries for 15 minutes or until golden brown.  Add the hot pastries in batches to the sugar mix and shake until coated. 

The Books We Opened

Every year, Santa brings us each socks, Tic-Tacs, a calendar and a new book (what more do you need, really?).  Here's a list of the books we each pulled from our stockings:
John - Hero by Mike Lupica
Kate - Son by Lois Lowry
Me - Mary Anne by Daphne DuMaurier
Mark - The Minnesota Book of Skills by Chris Niskanen

Mark also receieved a boxful of books from Kate - books that aren't on my bookshelves (yet!):
Hemingway on Fishing by Ernest Hemmingway
Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson
A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
Separation of Power by Vince Flynn

Full disclosure: I'm not addicted to exercising (huge understatement).  But I do love walking.  I could just walk and walk and walk.  I prefer to walk outside but...waiting under the tree for me was...the first two seasons of Downton Abbey!  Fourteen hours of viewing before January 6, when season 3 will air.  I've seen most of them already but need to immerse myself through them again and be ready for season 3.  Anyway...my point is not that'll be camped on the couch (well at least for all of it) but that I'll be on the treadmill for the next week.
I've also downloaded, however, audio versions of the three bookclub books that I need to read for...(yikes) January!  So, when I am walking outside, I'll be reading with my ears.

Today is the fourth day of Christmas and things are beginning to calm down.  Sometimes I feel like I made it through the holiday but kinda missed the whole point of the celebration.  Now is the time I'm more reflective.  Now is the time I feel like visiting, not necessarily partying, just visiting.  It's a journey.  I think often, during these 12 days, of the Biblical kings traveling through the night, following that one bright star, removed from all the hustle and bustle.  I will continue to focus and reflect so that on that 12th day of Christmas, I will arrive also.

Book Sale

Today, I withstood temptation.  Mostly.  Our church is having a holiday sale this weekend: baked goods, homemade jellies, jams, sweaters and scarves...  I am helping to run the used book booth.  This morning I went in to set up, price books and get them on display.  There are hundreds of books!  My family was placing bets on how many books I would buy before I even put them on a shelf.  I only bought two, thank you very much!  And I donated eight so...I'd say I can do some more shopping when I go to work my shift tomorrow!  With hardcovers only $1 and paperbacks a mere 50 cents, how can I go wrong?!

I also donated my very favorite "book" movie - 84 Charing Cross Lane.  I only donated the VHS copy because I have a DVD copy also and decided I probably didn't need to keep both.  I love movies with bookstores or libraries in them.  Fred Astaire finds Audrey Hepburn working in a bookstore in the movie Funny Face .  And, of course, You've Got Mail.  What other "book" movies are out there?

Hat Trick

Last week was my littlest nephew's birthday.  I wanted to give him just the perfect gift.  Then I remembered these perfect books (that I read nearly every time I'm at Target).  I have been waiting for the perfect little reason to buy them for a perfect little person.  Perfect!  And I made him this (going too far if I say perfect?) red hat.
I love reading these two books.  If Kate or John are at Target with me, I read them aloud.  (They're not really thrilled with that privelege - at all).  If not, I try to restrain myself.  Just so fun.  And they are so engaging.  Reading together, you can't help feeling conspiratorial in knowing where this plot is going.  And, oh no, it's not going to turn out well - lying and stealing - never turns out good.

(The rabbit doth protest too much, methinks.  See, you could introduce a little Shakespeare even.)
I think that hat belongs to the bear.  What do you think?
(nods) It does.  It's the bear's hat.
Is the rabbit going to give it back to the bear?
(shakes head) I don't think so.  He wants to keep it.

In the book, This is Not My Hat, a little fish takes a big fish's hat while the big fish is sleeping.  Then the little fish goes to hide.  A crab (or lobster?) sees where the little fish is hiding but promises not to tell.  So the little thief fish says he's "not worried about that."

Do you think maybe the little fish should be worried?
(smiles a little devilishly) Yeah.
Did the crab keep his promise?
No.
Is that little fish going to get in trouble?
Yes.
Is the big fish mad?
Yes because that is his hat and the little fish took it and it's not his and he's trying to keep it and you can't take stuff that's not yours.
SCORE!
Do not steal.  Do not lie.  And hang on to your hat!

Is It a Problem?

What do you call it when you know you have a habit that you should stop but...you don't (or won't)?  A problem, right?  I'm not admitting it.  I'm just asking.  I tried working at Barnes and Noble once, right after college.  I had a day job but I had also just bought my first house and thought spending my evenings and weekends working in a bookstore, earning a little extra, sounded awesome.  But it was too much temptation.  You wouldn't believe the stuff you can find in a bookstore if you have 4 or 5 hours to spend there, 5 or 6 times a week.  Let me tell you, you find a lot more stuff than an evening/weekend paycheck can afford.  And then its just heartbreaking.  So, I didn't sign on after the "holiday help" season passed.
The problem is I love books.  And I want access to them all the time, which means I want to own them, have them at my fingertips. 
Now,...I'm at the used bookstore last week (see, why do I even go into these places?!) and I found this little book in the above picture.  Or is it a little book?

Ha - it's a case for my phone.  Well, yeah, I bought it!  Wouldn't you have?  Well, if you were me, I mean?  So cool.  Except when I get an actual phone call.  Then it's a little awkward to open flat and hold against the side of my head.  I don't care though - it's so cool.
So, then I went to the library.  I love the library too.  I love that we can borrow any of these millions of books for free.  But when I borrow one that I really love, I kinda want to go out and buy it so that I can have it.  I try really hard not to be materialistic and, for the most part, I think I succeed.  But the book thing?  I really like having them, lots of them.  Okay, so I'm at the library because I have this sudden craving for Ezra Keats.  Remember Ezra Keats from elementary school?  That's where I first discovered him - in the book, Peter's Chair.  And it's such a vivid memory.  I could tell you exactly which shelf in our elementary school library the Ezra Keats books were - I can walk to that shelf in my sleep even today.  So, I checked out a bunch of Keats books to read with my lunch.

And I'm on my way out of the library, patting myself on the back for coming to the library, instead of the bookstore, to fill this urge.  And then I pass the "officially withdrawn" library books for sale shelf. -!- Really?  They had Matthew Pearl's The Last Dickens hardcover for only $1!  I've read The Poe Shadow and loved it.  I think I would like The Last Dickens.  Granted, Dickens isn't Poe but...(sigh)
it's a conspiracy.  (or a problem).

The Thrill of the Hunt

There are certain things that I've always wanted simply because they are so old-school, just so cool; like a library card catalog cabinet or a sewing bobbin drawer or...an old type set drawer (I guess I like things with lots of compartments!)  I found this type set drawer in Stillwater last week.  I eyed it at an antique mall, way back in the corner, and rushed over casually so that noone else would notice my interest and get there before me.  Nevermind that there were barely any other shoppers there and that two of them were my Mom and my Aunt.  It was a great price and I grabbed it, carried it around for awhile, and started thinking...ugh...can you imagine the dust in these little pockets.  I am not a clean freak (not even on the same planet) but the dust, I can just imagine the task.  And, really, I thought, what would I do with it?  I'm not a knick knack person so I have nothing to display in it.  It could just hang on the wall as kind-of-architectural-art.  But, again, is the dust worth it.  So, I put it back.  Then my Mom had a GREAT idea and I ran back and scooped it up again, paid for it, and took it out to the car.  You, however, will have to wait until I have the idea fulfilled - I will show you then.  Oooooh, the suspense.
When Mark and I visit garage sales or antique shops with the kids, we've always made a game of it.  Before anyone can get out of the car, they have to name one item that they're looking for at this sale.  Whoever finds their item, wins a point.  We don't actually buy the items...it's just the thrill of the hunt.  So, while we were shopping in Stillwater last week, my aunt kept feeling the bottoms of coffee cups.  And then my mom was.  So, I asked them, why are you doing that, what are you looking for?  Flat Bottoms.  They're looking for flat bottomed coffee cups that won't collect water in the dishwasher.  I cracked up.  That was our joke for the rest of the day - looking for flat bottoms - ha!  By the way, they are very difficult to find.

Have I mentioned that John loves trains?  He got an awesome electric train set from Santa a few years ago but it needs a very large table to be set on.  So, I bought two identical folding banquet tables which work wonderfully.  They have to be the same height because, as with real life trains, the engine can only handle an extremely slight inclination.  The tables are identical so...perfect.  Until.  My family, my extended family, spends every Christmas Eve together.  This means somewhere between 35-45 people and we share a sit down meal so we need to bring extra folding tables and chairs.  Last Christmas Eve, we brought our banquet tables...without our names on them.  Yep.  At the end of the festivities,we brought home two different tables.  And it has taken us until this past week to figure out who we need to trade with to get our identical heights back.  So, what do you think John wanted to do this weekend?  Uh-huh.  But one of his favorite boxcars had a coupler (I think that's the right term) that needed to be replaced.  Mark was deer hunting so it fell on my to fix the train.  We got it taken apart and I got everything back in place.  Until we turned it rightside up and everything fell off.  (This was, unfortunately, after I did my little victory dance and reminded John, see, Mom can do everything Dad can do - apparently not)  So, off to the hobby store to find out that the threads inside the train are worn and...wah, wah, wah, wah (the Charlie Brown voice).  I'll have Mark fix it.  But...

on the way home from the hobby store, we stopped at a consignment store.  I've never collected these Christmas village sets but John found this train station and wants to create a village to set inside the tracks.  I agree...that would be cool.  I know it may sound boring to just flip a lever and watch the train go round and round the track but...try it...it becomes fascinating and you want to slow it down when you come to the curve.  And, of course, you want to stop when the train pulls up in front of the station.  It is...fun!

And so, I'll end with a book recommendation - train related.  If you haven't ever read Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express, you really should.  (1) Because it is Agatha Christie AND the Orient Express = perfect combo, (2) it's entirely unique in it's adherence to the "mystery formula", and (3) it is Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express, for goodness sake!

If you like mysteries, are interested in writing a mystery or would enjoy hearing an author speak, I recommend, if you're in the Minneapolis area, going to hear Ellen Hart and RD Zimmerman talk "mystery" on Thursday, November 29 at 7:00 at the Elmer L. Anderson Library on the University of MN campus.  I attended a mystery writing course led by Ellen Hart (that's her pen name, can't remember her real name) years ago.  She is a wonderful teacher and great speaker.  I don't know RD Zimmerman, but I bet he's great also.

First Love

Do you remember the first book you fell in love with; not just the story but the actual, physical, hold-it-in-your-hands book?
I suppose I was about six when I found mine.  It was in the jumble of odd toys my Grandma kept in a box in the back bedroom at her house.  It was a small book, probably 4x5 inches, bound in a medium green cloth cover (pea-green, I guess).  Inside was Edward Lear's story of The Owl and the Pussy-cat and I absolutely adored that little book.  The story was just so weird and crazy and exotic and delicious and filled with imagination and longing.  And I loved saying the words over and over; loving what they told, loving how they sounded, how they swayed on my tongue.
It felt amazing and private - that this whole world, this whole adventure was captured in this book, hidden between these tiny covers, available for me to experience at anytime.  Or to carry in my pocket or just hold in my hand.  It was my back of the wardrobe, my Oz-bound twister, my rabbit hole, my second star to the right and straight on 'til morning.
I don't know what happened to the book.  It isn't around anymore.  I've looked on eBay, thinking I would find it (not the same one but maybe same edition).  I found a small green edition, published in the 70's but not the elegant green cloth edition of my memory.  Maybe my memory is wrong.  I've collected other versions, good versions, but too big.  For Kate's first birthday, Mark finished a small wooden tea table and chairs for her and I painted a verse from The Owl and the Pussy-cat around the table's rim - the part about the runcible spoon.  Runcible is a word that Lear made up.  He loved it and used it in other pieces of his work; always as an adjective but with varying elusions of definition.  If you look it up now, you'll find a variety of weird definitions - some of them fit sometimes but never all the time.  Here's the story:

The Owl and the Pussy-cat

by Edward Lear

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea

In a beautiful pea-green boat:

They took some honey, and plenty of money

Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

The Owl looked up to the stars above,

And sang to a small guitar,

"O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love,

What a wonderful Pussy you are,

You are,

You are,

What a wonderful Pussy you are!"

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl,

How charmingly sweet you sing!

Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried:

But what shall we do for a ring?"

They sailed away, for a year and a day,

To the land where the bong-tree grows;

And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,

With a ring at the end of his nose,

His nose,

His nose,

With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling

Your ring?"  Said the Piggy, "I will."

So they took it away, and were married next day

By the turkey who lived on the hill.

They dined on mince and slices of quince,

Which they ate with a runcible spoon;

And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,

They danced by the light of the moon,

The moon,

The moon,

They danced by the light of the moon.

Such a Short Weekend

We spent a very quick weekend on the river.  Wet heavy snow fell on our drive Friday night, making it hard to navigate even with the windshield wipers slapping furiously.  But by mid-morning on Saturday, the snow had melted and the sun was shining on my kitchen trees at the river.  I recognize that I say "my" trees very proprietarily - I do not mean it that way. 
Twenty-some years ago, I read a letter written by Chief Seattle of the Suquamish and Dwamish Indians, copied it into my notebook, and have reread it many times.  Unfortunately, it is almost certainly not authentic.  Chief Seattle supposedly made a speech and wrote a letter (circa 1854), both of which have been replicated to the point of myth but there exists no proof of the real thing.  Of the two best known versions, I now know that I have held onto the one which was reproduced by a Hollywood screenwriter.  But they are beautiful words and I will continue to hang onto the chance that it may have been, at least, Chief Seattle's sentiments.

This we know: the earth does not belong to man;

man belongs to the earth.

All things are connected like the blood which

unites one family.

Whatever befalls the earth, befalls the sons of the earth.

Man did not weave the web of life,

he is merely a strand in it.

Whatever he does to the web,

he does to himself.



Et tu, Hunger Games?

 

In Language Arts this year, Kate is using the vocabulary manual, Caesar's English to learn about Latin roots and their relationship to our language.  She learns the ancient Latin roots, learns their meaning, and then creates a few examples that follow the rule.  This week, one of the roots was "super"which means above, over, overly, excessive...When she thought of examples to write in her workbook, I suggested supercalifragilisticexpialidocious but she only rolled her eyes and snickered (an amused snicker, I believe). 

 

Who came first, she asked, Julius Caesar or Caesar Augustus?

Ummm, I don't know.  Probably Julius, I guess, since July comes before August. (I really have no idea but that sounded good to me.)  And what about Caesar Octavian, I ask, he probably came after.

Actually, turns out Augustus and Octavian were the same person.

 

But, the point is, her interest was peaked.  A couple more factors added up to her next request.  The factors are:

(1) A few weeks ago, we watched Orson Welles and Me (with Zac Efron and Claire Danes), in which Orson Welles is directing a production of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar.  Kate loved the film.

(2) About 3 years ago, Kate asked Mark to help her buy tickets online to a promenade staging of Romeo and Juliet which she gave me for Valentine's Day (to take her, of course).  From there, we discovered No Fear Shakespeare, which is how Kate first read Romeo and Juliet.  In this series, the original text appears on one side with an updated/explanatory version on the opposing side.  I'm okay with this.  If you're going to read Shakespeare, you need to read his real words; they are so verbal.  Even if you read silently, you're talking in your head.  There is nothing silent about Shakespeare.  And there is no better way way to say it.  But it's also nice to be able to understand the text.

 

So, the request yesterday morning:

Mom, can you go to Barnes and Noble today and get me a NFS copy of Julius Caesar?

Yes. I can. I will.

 

Today, before school, she's reading it and says,  Hey, Mom, did you ever realize that the names of lots of the Capital characters in the Hunger Games are the same as characters in Julius Caesar:  Caesar, Flavius, Octavia(n), Portia, Cinna, Cato, Messala, Claudio, Brutus.

Writing Session; Dark and Light

Every other week, I meet with another writer for a writing session.  We rarely do any actual writing during our session but we do discuss what we've worked on in the interval and help each other through current problems.  As a loose sort of format for the meeting and a springboard for discussion, we "assign" 2-3 chapters from bird by bird, Anne Lamott's book on writing.  This week, we covered the chapters titled Writing a Present, Short Assignments, and Perfectionism.  Short Assignments is helpful for me right now.  In this chapter, Lamott advises giving yourself a one-inch picture frame and writing only what you can see through that frame.  Basically, she's saying write the small stuff, a little at a time.  A project can become overwhelming quickly unless you break it down; get the details right.
We chose Lamott's book because we both already had a copy.  Having covered most of this book, however, we're looking to add another writing book; to add another perspective.  It's amazing how many are out there.  I'm welcoming any suggestions.
This week's session also covered a discussion on the vitality of the relationship of light and dark in our characters.  I thoroughly enjoy the tangents our talks travel down and the circular way they come back to the point.  In discussing dark and light, we covered Ansel Adams' Zone System for photography in which he codifies the levels between black and white.  We covered the Taoist Yin and Yang.  Of course, I brought up the essential element of dark and light in classic Gothic literature.  In all of these examples, we find the duplicity, the reliance, and the reflection of dark and light - always enhancing the other.
I have some writing assignments, from a college course, that I still refer to.  I'll share some occasionally, in case you'd like to "exercise".
Take one of these phrases and write 25 sentences that complete it.  You may want to do more or try a second phrase.  That may be the end of the exercise or you may want to pick your top five favorites and write something from it.  You may see a pattern emerge and write something from that.  Here are the phrases:
I remember...
I never...
Don't...
What if...
If only...
I should have...
I wish...
I remember...

After also debating the moral obligations and accountability in our writing, we ended the meeting with a reading from the Buddhist Dhammapada:

All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage.

All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him.

--Ch. 1, Twin Verses

A Story from Great Grandpa Nels

We spent Labor Day at the farm my Dad, and my Grandpa before him, grew up on.  The picture above is in the house where my grandparents raised their six children.  It is in this dining room and living room that we spent every Christmas Eve and many Sunday dinners.  It seems so small now.

Across the driveway is the house where my Grandpa grew up and where my Great Grandparents lived during my Dad's childhood.  I remember sleeping in an upstairs bedroom and hearing the horrible screeching moan during the night that the windmill makes - spooky.  My grandpa used to climb to the top, routinely, to oil it but that hasn't happened in many, many, many years.

During our Labor Day picnic, stories were shared and there was one I'd never heard before.  My Dad retold a story his Grandpa Nels told him about a man back in Denmark who used to walk home, every night, in the dark.  The path he walked wound through a cemetery and every night he'd get to a spot and he'd fall down.  He would pick himself up only to fall down again.  Every night he fell four times but that fourth time, when he picked himself up again, he was able to stay upright and continue home.  So, one day he decided to walk the path during daylight hours and find out why he kept falling down four times every night.  So he came to the spot where he always fell and there was a goat tied to a tree, munching away on the plentiful cemetery grass.  The goat got excited and knocked the man down, ran around the tree and, just as the man got back on his feet, came from behind and knocked him down again.  After the fourth time, however, the rope, now wrapped around the tree, had grown too short and the goat just ran past the man.

Now, I'm sure there was originally more to the story.  Why was he walking home after dark?  Was there another reason he was falling down?  Had he never walked through the cemetery during the day before?  Is there a moral to the story?  I don't know but what a fun, weird, little story!

This is the car I drove in High School, a 1966 Corvair, sitting not so prettily in the old chicken house now.  Like the Volkswagon Beetle, the engine is in the back and the trunk is in the front.  The trunk had a key of it's own which, for some reason, I kept on a separate ring than the ignition key.  One summer, some friends and I spent the weekend at my parents cabin where there was no garbage service.  So, at the end of the weekend, we packed the big bag of garbage in the trunk.  At some point, I lost the separate trunk key and the garbage started to STINK!  And, as I drove around, the stink wafted back.  Ewww.  I don't remember what happened in the end; whether I found the key or we had one made but I remember the stink!

Another story about Great Grandpa Nels is that he had a real hard time transitioning from driving horses to driving a car.  In the stable/garage, he lined the back wall with old tires and when he returned from a trip to town, he would drivel into the building and continue to drive until he hit the tires.  My Aunt says the car would hit the tire wall, shimmy a bit and boing off it.

And "my" willow tree.  This is the most singular image that comes to mind when I think of the farm.  Well, that's not true since, as I wrote it, 3,4,5 more images came immediately to mind.  But this tree is first.  It wasn't nearly this big, of course.  It is what you see when you look from the window over the kitchen sink.  So, I guess this was my Grandma's kitchen tree.

Monsters, Memory Care & the Great Escape

Have you read The Monster At the End of This Book by Jon Stone?  Another one of my favorites.  It's a really fun book but I think I like it most because of how it so tickled my brother every single time we read it as children.  Don't you love certain things simply because of the joy they provide to ones you love?  I just reread this book and realized...huh...we are our own monsters, aren't we?  Often times, we are what is keeping ourselves from ourselves.  Pretty deep, I know.  That's what happens when you start reading books starring lovable, furry, old Grover.

Cicero was the first to say Man is his own worst enemy and it is still true.

My Grandma is moving into a new Memory Care Facility (only 20 minutes from our house - yay!) and the kids and I were there today, helping to ready her rooms.  All of the doors leading outside are locked, of course, for the safety of those living on this particular wing of the building.  When John went to open the outside door for my Dad (who was carrying boxes in), a lady followed right behind and asked John to hold the door for her.  He is a gentleman of a boy and did so graciously.  She handed him her toothpick (which he politely accepted and then tossed!) and took off down the sidewalk in a slipper shuffle.  Fortunately, my Mom was watching from the window and said, "Isn't that the lady from down the hall?  Do you think John just let her out?"

We ran down the hall, out the door and led her back inside, explaining to those in charge.  No harm done, everything's fine but we're probably gonna get my Grandma kicked out before she even moves in!  "Be good", she always tells us.  "Stay out of trouble."  I guess we need the reminders!

The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable man persists in trying to adapt the world to himself.  Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man."  

-- George Bernard Shaw

I'm not quite sure I agree with this philosophy but I do think...stop being your own worst enemy monster.  Be your own superhero!

Here's my kitchen tree in the summer, with the sun going down and a storm rolling in:

Ding, Ding, Ding, Jackpot! Jackpot!

See this stack of toilet paper on the bathroom counter?  Do YOU think this is where we keep our supply of toilet paper?  It's not.  While putting the new paper away, last Thursday, I was interrupted and had to leave the rest here on the counter for a bit.  Then I wondered how long it would take before someone would notice it and put it away.  My slogan around the house this summer has been, "If you notice it needs to be done, just do it."  We all live here.  We all can help out.  So, this toilet paper on the counter became an experiment.  More in a moment...
A few years ago, Kate and I read All-of-a-Kind-Family for our book club.  In chapter two, the mother puts a dozen buttons under objects around the sitting room.  The five little sisters take turns dusting and have to find the 12 buttons before they can call it done - which means they have to dust under things that might not have a button under them also.

So I decided that putting the toilet paper away was going to be worth $5 the first day (a big amount for impact on my experiment) and that I'd deduct $1 every day it went undone.  So today we're down to $1, the toilet paper is still there (one of the kiddos even moved it, stacked it on the toilet, and then moved it back onto the counter!), and I had a neighbor stopping by.  I didn't want this toilet paper sitting out.  So, on the way home from swimming this morning, I explained the experiment, without saying what the task was that had gone undone.  I said that it was still worth $1 if anyone noticed and took care of it before lunch.
"How will we know what it is?" they asked.
"I guess you'll just have to go around the house taking care of everything until you see me start running in circles with my hands flapping in the air yelling, "ding, ding, ding, jackpot, jackpot!"
Kate said, "If you're going to do that, I'm definitely out."
When we got home, I grabbed my camera to take a photo of the toilet paper (to show you all).  But Kate was in the bathroom so I waited casually downstairs until I heard her go back to her room.  When I went up to take the photo...the paper was put away.  I ran down the hall yelling at the top of my lungs, "ding, ding, ding, jackpot, jackpot!" 
Kate came out of her room and said, "I thought you said you'd run in circles flapping your hands in air."
And so I did.
And then I stacked the toilet paper back on the counter, took a picture and put it away again.

Not Mr. McGregor's Lettuce Cups

I cut this recipe from the newspaper last month and finally got around to making it - DELICIOUS!  I had children fighting over the last of it.  I doubled the recipe and put half in the freezer - I'll let you know how it freezes.  But it was so easy!  I followed the recipe straight through except I used half beef and half turkey (really like this combined flavor).  I used regular soy sauce but it seems a little salty for my taste - I would try lower sodium soy sauce (do they make such a thing?) next time.  Warning: when you add the fish sauce, it smells AWFUL and you'll think that you've ruined the whole thing but, amazingly, when you add the next ingredients, it blends and mellows and becomes just wonderful.

Having eaten so much of it (it was THAT good), I remembered the Beatrix Potter story, The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies, where the bunnies overindulge on Mr. McGregor's lettuces.   I just love the little Beatrix Potter books.  I love their size; I love their lessons; I love the voice that tells the story.

And where else can you get such an awesome vocabulary lesson without even realizing it?  Although I think "soporific" sounds too exciting to mean sleepy but...I'm not in charge of these things.

Required Summer Reading

There was an email in my inbox last week from Kate's principal listing the required summer reading assignments for language arts.  I know it's weird but I was excited - a new reading list!  Kate's class has to read a short story by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.  The upper grade classes have Animal Farm by George Orwell and The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton.

I know we're supposed to have awful memories of middle school/junior high but honestly...I...kinda...liked it....actually.

I had English first hour in seventh grade, our first year of junior high.  My teacher had cats (don't know how many, just know it was plural) and wore long wool skirts to school.  Every morning she used a roll of school tape turned sticky side out to brush the cat hair from her skirt.

My eighth grade English teacher raised horses at home and loved the one named Serendipity most.

I had Political Science in eighth grade also - which I thought I would hate.  I'm not political, never have been, and science isn't really my strong area either.  But to my pleasant surprise, I loved Political Science.  Our teacher treated us like adults and we had the most intellectual conversations I had experienced thus far. 

My seventh grade social studies teacher was also extremely politically intelligent but she loved literature also so we read many historical novels.  I remember reading The Turn of the Screw by Henry James in her class but can't imagine why.

In seventh grade science (remember not my best area), our teacher had one real eye and one glass eye which he threatened to pop in and out if we wanted to see.  He had lost his eye in a fishing accident when his fishing buddy cast his line but caught an eyeball.  Ewww.  But I liked this teacher.  He gave only one A+ per quarter and I got it three out of four quarters.  That fourth quarter was when we dissected frogs.  So,...I'm not bragging, I'm just saying, junior high was good to me.

And my poor math teacher who asked to speak to me after class about my reading during his lectures.  He said I shouldn't.  He was very sweet about it though.  But then he got brain cancer and died.  It was a shock for us at that age to realize that teachers were human - mortal.

And then the Frau who introduced me to German - she was my favorite!

I hope that Kate and John can have even a bit of the positive vibes I found during this struggle between childhood and young adult.

Battle of Wills, Feed the Birds, Karma, and Coincidental References

Remember my Mary Poppins purse?  Well, it was with me at the baseball fields last night along with my almost-teen daughter.  It is the last week of school and emotions are running the gamut and her and I were having a battle of wills in the stands.  Because I didn't want her spitting from the bleachers, I took the sunflower seeds away, folded the bag carefully and tucked it into my purse.  And then forgot they were there.  Today, in the car with said daughter, I pulled my wallet from my purse and dumped the whole bag of seeds.  Kate started laughing and singing, "Feed the Birds" from Mary Poppins.  Honestly, this purse has provided more entertainment for my family!

Taking the dog out last week, I noticed that our mulberry tree was loaded with berries, still quite green but loaded.  This morning when John took the dog out, he came in and told me the mulberries need to be picked, "they are way ripe, falling off the tree way ripe."  Have you ever read And to Think That I Saw it on Mulberry Street by Dr. Seuss?  In this story, the little boy Marco creates a story, embellishing everything he sees on his way home from school.  John has embellished once or twice and I really didn't think mulberries could get from green to "way ripe" in one week.  But...

He was right - they are ready to be picked.  So we got out a ladder before school and picked a small bowlful.  The rest we will leave...to feed the birds!

Do you ever have a day of weirdly related coincidences seemingly smacking you in the face but have no idea what it's all supposed to mean?  Today was one for me.  I am currently reading Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.  It's amazing and I find myself thinking about it constantly. 

Then, while waiting in the car queue at school, I noticed a friend of mine had posted a quote on Facebook:
"You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture.  Just get people to stop reading them." and it is from Fahrenheit! 

Then, at home tonight, Kate was on her favorite writing website and shouted out the quote of the day:
"'Do you read any of the books you burn?' 'No, that's against the law' 'Oh, of course.'" .....from Fahrenheit!  I've tried connecting them, tried figuring out how these could show up in two different places on the same day and while I'm reading this book that was written over 60 years ago.  I've had the book for awhile and am reading it for a different project I'm working on. 
And the second quote (even the first one for that matter), although significant to the book, isn't much of a quote of the day.
Just weird.
(Later---after checking local headlines---I found out that Ray Bradbury died yesterday!  This is so sad.  I had no idea. Talk about feeling smacked in the face - I'm spinning with this news.  The NewYork Times ran this fantastic story regarding Fahrenheit 451.)

Forecasting a Grimm Summer

Kate and I went to see Snow White and the Huntsman the other night to start off our Grimm summer.  Tomorrow is the last day of school and, although the kids want to just relax, I know we will need some thread of structure to keep our brains from melting and, honestly, keep from driving each other nuts.  We began the Sisters Grimm book series a few summers ago and loved it.  And now there are so many more!  When I saw the Table of Contents in the new Sisters Grimm; A Very Grimm Guide, I knew I'd found our structure. 

The guide explains characters from the series which include:

Puck, (Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream)
Washington Irving (author of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Rip Van Winkle)
Mr. Seven (the seventh of the seven dwarves from Snow White)
Caspar Sheepshank (aka: Rumplestiltskin)
The Wizard of Oz
The Queen of Hearts
Lewis Carroll (author of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)
Sheriff Nottingham (from Robin Hood)
The Jabberwocky (a creature from Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass)
The Little Match Girl's matches
Merlin's Wand and Excalibur (from the stories of King Arthur)
Pinnochio
Aladdin's Flying Carpet

Talk about a list rich with possibilities!  Now, we may just read the Sisters Grimm.  But we also may read
the original books/stories these characters come from.  We may see movies (there are always many adaptations) or write new stories or make new movies, paintings, games...
I can't wait!

Chaperone, Chauffeur, and Pilfered Writing Tips

Wearing my chauffeur/chaperone hat today, I took Kate and a couple friends to a young writers conference held at a local college.  I had my book with and some work to finish up while waiting outside their sessions.  But as I sat with them during the keynote speaker this morning, I thought, what the heck?  I'm at a writers' conference - I should sit in the sessions with them.  Writing exercises are writing exercises; doesn't matter what age.

Our second session was led by J. Michael Blumer, author of the young adult fantasy series, The Secret Books of Gabendoor.  Using the nursery rhyme, Jack and Jill, Mr. Blumer worked through a list of tricks to make the story less "flat" and more "3-D". 

He asked the kids to think outside the cute little boy and girl and yell out some more interesting descriptions for the characters of Jack and Jill. 

The kids' Jill:

--dragon

--fire hair

--green dotted

--eats cheese

--hairy legs

My Jill:

--middle aged lady

--bad hair day

--blemishes

--simple chronic halitosis

--hairy legs (as long as I'm pilfering - it's a good one!)

Then Mr. Blumer explained how it's more exciting when we add obstacles to make it more difficult for Jack and Jill to fetch that pail of water.

The kids' obstacles to fetching a pail of water:

--volcanoes

--monsters

--witches spells

My obstacles to fetching that water:

--finding historical significance to the pail

--forming a relationship with the guy who owns the well

--leaving the kids home alone while I go to get that water



I really enjoyed the sessions but I'm pretty sure the girls got more out of the day than I did!

It's Raining and Claire is Back

Today was set aside to work with my friend, Kimm, on our new book club project.  Not, good heavens, another book club - just a book club project - more to follow later, hopefully soon later!  But Kimm had to cancel and so I decided to use the day to write; to write real stuff, not just my blog which is questionable as real writing.  Its kind of more crafting and sharing and telling and showing and, of course, photographing.  And, hey - do not criticize my verbs - I'm blogg-ing!

So, in preparation of writing, Kate and I watched 3 more episodes of the Vlog Brothers' Brotherhood 2.0 on Youtube before school.  John Green is so awesome - he even convinces me that being an English nerd is a cool thing!  And...still not really writing.

Dropped Kate off at school and then...went to the bookstore to buy some books about getting inspired to write.  Sat in my car, in the rain, in the parking lot jotting down thoughts in a little notebook.  Kinda writing - at least acting like a writer - I think.

Still raining when I get home and I'm thinking of Claire.  Claire is the main character in the book I'm writing; the main character who I've kept in a box on the bottom of my project-to-do shelf for the past two years.  I've let her out briefly in that time but she was very uncooperative, which I guess is understandable if you've been kept in a box for two years.  But she's still alive; she's amazingly still alive.  So, I brought her box upstairs this morning since it was raining and the rain reminded me of Claire's first night back at her Grandfather's cabin when it rained so hard.  Thinking about writing.

I can't put the box on the dining room table 'cause it is covered with all the laundry I started folding yesterday.  Maybe I should finish that first so I have a clear, clean workspace.  Still...not writing.

Needing a cup of coffee by now so that I can start writing.  The coffee is, of course, in the kitchen - where my phone is charging, screen side up.  Ooh, I have thirteen notifications on Facebook!  That's never happened before so I take a look.  Awww - it's my lovely neice, Sarah, saying nice things about me and "liking" my writing.  So, I better get back to that writing.

But, oh yeah, I was going to take a photo to add to the blog later 'cause who wants to read a blog without pictures?  Sheesh - might as well read a book.

Okay, she's out now - Claire.  She's sitting on my couch, watching the birds, listening to the rain.  We talked...some.  I wrote...some.  She's breathing deeply.  So am I.  Maybe tomorrow she'll be more cooperative.

Tally Me Bananas

We had some hush-hush banana dealing going on in the ball field parking lot a few days ago.  The mom of one of Kate's teammates worked at a local fun run in the morning, handing out bananas.  At the end of the run, she still had a boxful left and was told to take 'em home.  So, she asked a few of us in the stands - did we want some bananas?  If so, meet her in the parking lot after the game. 
Now we have bananas coming out of our ears!  So, I made banana muffins with mini chocolate chips.  I always make a quarter of the batch without chocolate for Mark, as he prefers them straight up banana.  When it comes to muffins, I want the chips, but with banana bread, I prefer plain.  So after all the chocolate ones vanished, I had to cut this one into slices - trick my brain into thinking it was bread!
In the mid 90s, I went to the Jazz Festival in New Orleans with my friend Lisa.  One of the popular food vendors that year was bananas on a stick, dipped in chocolate.  I don't remember which bands we saw that day but I do remember standing in line for a chocolate dipped banana on a stick; standing in line behind Counting Crows front man, Adam Duritz!  Well, I'm pretty sure it was him anyway - he's fairly distinctive looking.

At the bookstore yesterday I got (besides It's a Book) this beautiful copy of Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Books.  In July, our Mom Blook Club will be reading The Tiger's Wife.  As I've read that it deals with fairytales and fables and, specifically, Kipling's The Jungle Book, I'm looking forward to this reading.  We (John, Kate, and I) have read and loved Kipling's Just-So Stories (our favorite is "The Beginning of the Armidillos), but not The Jungle Book - add it to our summer stack.