first Monday of summer

Says it all, doesn't it? Had a playdate this morning, and now are in the middle of figuring out how "quiet time" and naptime are going to play out. (And apologies are due to my oldest son, who stayed quietly in the basement without a peep for his whole hour, while my youngest two children were winding each other up upstairs.)

Meanwhile, work beckons as the journals begin to pile up, research into other types of work beckons, etc.

Feeling a little disjointed this afternoon. Must buckle down! Am going to have trouble getting used to not having the school bus and various activities disrupting the afternoon ...

I don't really get it

All the hoopla over Michael Jackson's death, that is. Once upon a time, he was a big star. But for a long time, all he's been is a big joke. As with so many, the real tragedy isn't his death ... it was his life. A man with his talents and intelligence, and that's what he turned himself into. Very sad.

But all things considered, it's been so long since he was a relevant part of the general experience, I can't feel that this really has special significance. But then, perhaps I'm too young to get it. After all, I was 7 when "Thriller" came out, and it was mostly downhill from there.

Either way, it's certainly a tragedy for his children and family. But I doubt I'll be thinking about it at this time next week.

book reviews

E. B. White, The Trumpet of the Swan. I find this one much less interesting than either Stuart Little or Charlotte's Web. It's a good book, but I find that many of the other characters in the book either don't understand Louis the swan, or they seem to be hovering on the edge of taking advantage of him. (I kept forgetting I was reading a children's book and expecting someone to steal all his money.)

J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone. I just finished reading this one to the boys. Greyson was way into it; Charles not so much. Every night, Greyson would beg me to read one more page, and Charles would beg me not to! I still haven't read any of the other books in the series. I just haven't felt any great desire to move on. It's an enjoyable book, but I don't know that I'll be reading the next one to the boys.

Hugh Pentecost, The Gilded Nightmare. Each book gets a little better. This one was a more interesting plot (if it hinged on a plot twist that was a bit unbelievable). It did, however, contain a fairly major error in decision-making: when your detective is named Chambrun, don't name your protagonist Charmian. Way confusing for the reader, especially when they're in the same conversation. Otherwise, we're definitely moving up in quality.

Stephen R. Taaffe, Commanding the Army of the Potomac. This one was really interesting. It was pretty much a standard Union-focused history of the Civil War, but focusing specifically on the leaders of the Army of the Potomac - not just on the general at the head, but all the commanders of the different corps and on the number of machinations and different factions working behind the scenes, and the way those affected the course of the war. Really interesting.

5 things I like about rainy days

After more and more and more rain, even I, who like rain, am sick of it. (No, I'm never moving to Oregon or England.) So in an effort to make the best of the situation, herewith, 5 things I like about rainy days:

1. My kids and I are all indoorsy types, so rainy days allow us all to hang out and do the fun stuff we like to do without feeling guilty that we aren't outside.

2. Interestingly, my kids are also somewhat more likely to spontaneously go outside on rainy days - they're perverse that way, I guess.

3. Having the lights on inside while it's all grey and rainy outside makes it seem all homey and cozy inside.

4. I like the sound of rain on the roof.

5. I love the sound of cars whooshing by on a rainy road. Even though I can't hear them that well from this far back, I can still imagine the sounds - they bring back a lot of good memories of rainy nights.

3-year-olds

I'm done with 'em. ... Okay, that's not actually true - I have nearly four months left of a 3-year-old in the house, and have to somehow manage to get both of us through those 4 months with life, limb, and a modicum of sanity. However, it's not a prospect I'm looking forward to.

The last five minutes are a case in point. I was trying to read a couple of pages of my book. Veronica (said 3-year-old) rushes in, babbles something, and stares at me. I drag my attention half away from the book. "What?" More babble. Eventually I realize she wants me to unlock and open the back door for her so she can go out in the rain and yell at the chipmunk in the strawberry patch. I decline to do this. She starts whining and fake-crying at me. I tell her to go get dressed. Nightgown-clad 3-year-old rushes off.

Moments later, I hear her yelling proudly, "Mommy, I going potty!" We're fully trained now, so I yell back, "Good for you!" But then she runs back in the room, naked. "Mommy, water's too hot!" as she cries and fusses. Water? What water? I listen, but it doesn't sound like she left the water running in the bathroom. I tell her, again, to go get dressed.

"I nevah get dressed! No!" she shouts. But then she disappears. Next thing I hear, "Mommy, I need some help!" So I go in. She's got her clothes strewn across the room. As I reach for her underwear, she (predictably) snatches them away. "I do it myself, Mommy!" So I let her, and she manages to get them on correctly. She points to her pants. "You help with those, I do this." Then she fumbles with the shirt. I point out that she's putting it on backwards. She fumbles a bit more, then hands it to me. I turn it around, roll it up, start to put it on her head. "No, I do it myself!" I put it over her head, she puts her arms in. Then she snatches the pants, sits down, puts both feet in one leg, tries to stand up. When this doesn't work, I take the pants from her. "No, Mommy! I do it myself!" Then she tries to stand and put the pants on. This doesn't work, either. I take the pants back again, help them on with her.

She leaps into my lap, swaying back and forth, hugging me, singing an "I love my Mommy" song.

So the rewards are good ... but the mood swings and energy level are hard to keep up with. 4 has to be better. Right? Right? Anyone? .... Bueller?

book reviews

All rereads this time - the new books are moving slowly, although a number of them are quite enjoyable.

Hugh Pentecost, The Shape of Fear. The second Chambrun mystery. Better than the first, but still hadn't quite hit its stride. Introduced the narrator for the rest of the series, although it made him more competent than I remember from the rest of the series. Looking forward to getting to the next one in order.

Barry Hughart, Bridge of Birds. I read this years ago, and had forgotten how delightful it is. I may have to reread the rest of the series - the humor is light but on point, the plot unfolds like a carnival. Well worth reading!

A. S. Byatt, Possession. I always think of this book as one of the finest examples of the writer's craft it has ever been my privilege to read. Not only does the book explore the word "possession" in every meaning and connotation of the term, but it unfolds through the masterfully delineated voices of a number of different characters. It's not a book for everyone - it's nearly Dickensian in its plot complexity - but if you can make it through, it's hugely rewarding.

And just for fun -

Don Freeman, Space Witch. This is a children's picture book from my childhood (tracked down for me by my wonderful husband - I couldn't remember title or author). It's a cute and fun book with a minor-key style quirkiness. Not sure if it's as good as I remember, but it stuck with me all these years, so I'm keeping it!

a day in the life, part 2

After the kids were done with nap/quiet time, I cleaned out and reorganized the linen closet, went outside to check the strawberries (only two today), and realized belatedly that it was time for the bus. After a sprint to the end of the driveway, I found Greyson across the street at the neighbors’, having gone home with their son, contentedly munching an ice cream bar. He wasn’t thrilled to see me.

Brought him back to the house, got everyone settled with snacks, and went to work on laundry.

Soon it was time for ATA tae kwon do, so I got everyone bundled into the car. The new order impressed and quieted with its novelty – at least on the way there. Then the grocery store. On the way home, order disappeared, as Charles and Veronica proved no more able to sit together peacefully than Charles and Greyson. (I sense a pattern here.) Once we made it through the unusually heavy traffic and home, I got them inside, put away the groceries, did my crunches and stretches for the day along with some more laundry, and changed for my book group.

Dinner was pb&j all around (well, except in the case of the two who don’t eat pb. They just had j). Then I headed to book group, where we talked about The Shack. I believe I’ve already given my views, and I gave them again. Hopefully not too obnoxiously!

Now home, some Sims, and bed. And that’s a day!

a day in the life ...

... of a stay-at-home mom (who actually gets to stay home today!). It’s been several weeks since I’ve had a day where I could just stay home and get things done, so there’s a lot more “home” and less “mom” in my day today than you might expect. Also, I’ll leave out the mundane bits like showering and checking Facebook!

Got up this morning – the alarm woke me out of a deep sleep, which isn’t usually the case. Charles was awake, but I had to get Greyson up so he could make it to the end of the driveway in time for the bus. Waiting for the bus was unusually exciting this morning: workmen are trying to replace the telephone pole at the end of the driveway, and having trouble with it because they keep hitting rock. They were just setting up while we were down there – and causing trouble with traffic because of all the trucks on our narrow street.

Came back in and played a promised game of Battleship with Charles. We only played until I’d sunk two of his ships (he got one of mine), but he took the defeat well. Then I got started working on my journal, pausing in the midst to actually have breakfast. (I don’t consider that ‘mundane’, since it’s a pretty rare occurrence!)

Next up (still in the middle of the first article), I cleaned out my car, driver’s seat to trunk. It needed it – several weeks’ worth of debris was piled up, since we’ve been in the car multiple times a day snacking, prepping for t-ball and baseball, etc. In addition, I’ve gotten very tired of the constant whining and fighting between the boys, so I shuffled the car seats around to separate the two boys. Whether Charles and Veronica will do better together in the back remains to be seen, but Greyson seems to be the most easily annoyed of the three, so I’m hoping putting him by himself will help.

I finished an article, started another one, changed the sheets on our bed, vacuumed up a huge mess on Charles’s floor (goody bags should be outlawed), got lunch for the kids and put them upstairs for naps/quiet time, then worked on syncing up the calendars (all three) while having lunch and watching a Cold Case rerun.

(Since this got a bit long, I'll save the latter half of the day for tomorrow's post. It gets really exciting. Or does it?)

It's days like today ...

That make me really angry with my mother. Greyson's reading is taking off - she'd have been so proud of him, so happy to read with him. Charles is learning how to read, making up dances. She'd have been right there, going over each letter, clapping at every movement. Veronica is delightfully fun, and she and my mom would have had so much fun together.

She'd have been such a good grandmother, and would have delighted so much in my kids. How dare she deprive all of us of that by throwing it away on purpose.

(I know, you've heard it all before. Probably will again. I can't help it - the intentional waste of her life makes me angry.)

book reviews

P.N. Elrod, A Chill in the Blood. Now, I like Elrod's Fleming series (of which this is the eighth and, I think, last), certainly better than the Revolutionary series she did, which was formulaic to the point of being tedious ... but this last book is definitely not the best of the lot. Frankly, it just gets old - the vampire is always being shot or otherwise injured, left for dead, saved ... and having read the first seven books, you've already read in great detail all the ways that can feel. This one is long on action and reliance on the vampire's special skills, and shorter than usual on characterization. Still worth reading and keeping as part of the series, but doesn't make me feel too sad that the series doesn't continue.

Edward Channing, A Student's History of the United States. Published in 1898. It was fascinating to see the difference in what students were expected to learn then and what is given importance now. The 1898 volume was much more detailed, much more focused on politics ... but also gave a lot more basis for understanding what went on. I feel I have a much greater grasp on the first half of the 19th century in American history than I did before.

Robert E. Pinkerton, The First Overland Mail. This was the story of the Butterfield stage line, which preceded railroads and the Pony Express as the first way to get mail across the country. It was interesting, but felt a bit oversimplified. (I have other books in this series, written for younger readers, but this one feels much less detailed than the others.) Not a keeper, I think.

Elie Wiesel, Night. I read this in an afternoon - had never read it before. It's short, but compelling. The blurb on the front is from the New York Times and puts it as well as possible: "A slim volume of terrifying power."

in 5 years ...

Thinking today about certain personal goals. I was going to say "by 40", but that's kind of arbitrary. 5 years, of course, also arbitrary, but one has to use some unit of time, and half a decade does seem about right.

So 5 years from now, these are 5 things I'd like to have accomplished (on a personal level):

1. Have two manuscripts finished to the point of being ready to shop to agents.

2. Have a 'best friend' here in town.

3. Have finally licked my issues with diet and exercise and be in good shape and a good routine.

4. Have done enough investigating to know if I'd like to join a reenactment group or not.

5. Shrink the number of books on the to-be-read shelf far enough so I can start buying books again.

which came first ...

The personality or the online persona? I feel my online persona has always been a bit more free, a bit more witty, a bit more quirky and fun than my real one. Certainly less cranky! But - especially as Facebook helps my two "lives" to meld a bit - I feel that my Real Life (tm) persona is starting to come closer to the one in the box.

Questions: Is the personality that lurks inside my head the same one that lurks inside the computer? Am I starting to sound a bit Sybiline? Or am I split-Xander, with all my good traits in one self and all my bad ones in the other?

Or am I simply getting older and more comfortable with my actual self, and therefore more willing to share that with real people? It's a toss-up. Either way, being able to take my somewhat more free and interesting Internet self out in public does make it easier to do the community-building portion of my mom job.

book reviews

Back again! Sorry for the long delays ... May and June have been a bit crazed and left me with very little of coherence to say. I have a back-log of books, though, which is a bonus! (For me, at least.)

Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Why aren't these books standards anymore? Such weirdness and truth bundled together with compelling plots and interesting characters. I think I'm going to bring back "really knows where his towel is" as a saying.

Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird. What can you say, really? It's a classic for many well-deserved reasons. Even without the movie, that street lives in your imagination, and the moment when Scout's innocence clears the madness from a mob and brings them back to themselves ... chilling. Such a good book.

Hugh Pentecost, The Cannibal Who Overate. I love this series, but this one (the first one) reads just like a TV pilot - it hasn't quite got the hang of where it's going. The denouement is a bit rushed and flimsy. But the stage is set and the characters defined for the rest of the series.

Wm. Paul Young, The Shack. Book club choice. Knew I wasn't going to like it; hated it for its puerile writing, cheapening of tragedy, and oversimplified preachy definitions of God. And that was only the first half, because I gave it up in disgust when it turned out to be blatant religicized fantasy.