the countdown

After today, Miss Bunny has only 3 days of preschool left before the end of the year. (This will give her just over two weeks to sit at home and bemoan the fact that her school is over while her brothers' is still going. Those should be fun days.) Needless to say, she will not be happy. She loves her school, loves her friends, loves to have an answer twice a week to her favorite question, "Where am I going today?"

Preschool has been very good for that little girl. Not only is she a giant, but she's also becoming a big girl, learning how to do things for herself (like toast her own Pop-Tarts in the morning. She's very proud of this accomplishment) and slowly but surely learning some of the rules of good behavior. I look forward to school beginning again for her next fall - I imagine by that point both Veronica and I will be well past ready!

ghosts in the TV

Alas, the landscape of my TiVo is slowly losing its color. This year I've said good-bye to several shows that have given me great joy.

American Idol. Kelly Clarkson, Clay Aiken, Adam Lambert, Nadia Turner, David Cook, Chris Daughtry - I've enjoyed watching all these artists grow and perform on the Idol stage. But with the departure of Simon Cowell next season and the generally predictable nature of this year's performers, I've said good-bye to the show.

Numb3rs. The Epps family has warmed my heart many times over, the relationship between the two brothers and their father the kind parents dream of. All the relationships on the show have been strong ones - where the writers occasionally stumbled in plot, they rarely did in the interpersonal arena. Not to mention the eye candy provided by Dylan Bruno and Rob Morrow, and the sheer delight of seeing David Krumholtz and Peter MacNicol playing off each other as friends after having first seen them as foes in Addams Family Values.

Law & Order. Cast change after cast change eroded certain things from the show, but Sam Waterston remains. And, well, it's the original! All others are but substitutes. I will miss the weekly dose of morally opinionated ripped-from-the-headlines drama, even if it does live on (in more colorful incarnations with Angie Harmon, Chris Noth, and the great lamented Jerry Orbach) in reruns. It's still not quite the same.

Cold Case. Despite Kathryn Morris's unfortunate plastic surgery, I've enjoyed every episode of this show. The music video gimmick at the end, the flashbacks to the past, the cast - this show has been a joy to watch through its entire run, and I will be very, very unhappy next season to find it no longer on my TiVo in new episodes.

In theory, there may be new shows next season that will replace the ones I'm losing ... but I can't imagine them right now.

changing perceptions

A new friend asked me today if I minded that she associates me with Tim Curry (there's a reason, but it's a long story). And it occurred to me that, far from minding, I find that pretty apt. (That would be Tim Curry of Clue and Rocky Horror Picture Show.) It also occurred to me that few people I know today would think of me in connection with Tim Curry, the Addams family, etc. It's interesting to consider the things people would associate with me. Coffee, certainly, and books. Those are recurring themes throughout my life. But the whole darkness, vampires, black humor type things? Only those who know me well see those, I think. The Laura Ingalls Wilder/history obsession may be more obvious ... but again, it's not something that is obvious to all.

But what is? What kind of interests do the bland moms I sometimes meet hold close to their hearts, the things that add color to them? Which parts of ourselves do we choose to share, and with whom? Does any one person truly see everything that you are? Which parts are indelible, which parts molded to the person you're with? Identity is such an indefinable thing.

book reviews

Anna Katharine Green, The Mystery of the Hasty Arrow. This was a pretty interesting plot, convoluted and detailed. It's obviously dated to the early twentieth century, but is not cliched or overblown. Very enjoyable. Green is an unsung talent and should be far more appreciated today than she is.

Anne Perry, Half-Moon Street. This one was pretty good. There was a shake-up of characters, with some of the usual characters out of the picture, and the conspiracy theories didn't make an appearance, which is nice. There was a bit too much overwrought speech and idealism, and her characters' deep emotional understandings too get tiring after a while, but there's no question she can spin a compelling tale.

Roger Lea MacBride, In the Land of the Big Red Apple. I still wish there was more of Laura Ingalls Wilder's own writing available, but I find MacBride a competent follower, and I think he captures the right tone. Rose emerges from his books as an entirely different character, and it's interesting to see how she and her experiences diverge from Laura's.

Dennis Lehane, Shutter Island. This is a book club selection, which is the only reason I read it. Which illustrates the reason I enjoy going to book club in the first place: to make me read books I wouldn't otherwise. As we all know, I can be a bit of a book snob, and if it weren't for book club I would never have read a Dennis Lehane. Now, I didn't like it. I found the plot didn't grab me that much, I'm not much for thrillers, and the ending rendered the rest of the book utterly pointless. But the writing was good, Lehane clearly has a gift for dialogue, and it's always good to try something new.

book reviews

Anne Perry, The Whitechapel Conspiracy. This is well done, with lots of detail and a pretty big shake-up, which almost makes up for the conspiracy theory taking over to the point of being part of the title. Interesting take on Jack the Ripper, as well, although not being a Ripperologist, it could easily be standard these days.

Roger Lea MacBride, Little Farm in the Ozarks. I admit that I've never quite warmed up to Rose, whose thoughts and experiences seem so much less interesting than those of Laura. But the tales of her growing up are vivid and interesting, and the glimpses into the world of Laura and Almanzo are fascinating.

Brad Matsen, Titanic's Last Secrets. Amazing book. The first and third chapters, detailing the new information and the new dives to uncover some of the heretofore unknown portions of the sinking are fascinating. But the true surprise and joy to me was the middle section, containing not only the history of Titanic's building and of Harland & Wolff, but also a retelling of the sinking itself that contained details I've never heard before, which was quite unexpected.

Linda Peavy and Ursula Smith, Frontier Children. A lovely book detailing the lives of children in the West. Not just white emigrant children, but Indians, Californios, and black emigrants as well. It's a beautiful book just for the liberal allowance of pictures, but the in-depth retelling of various aspects of children's lives was well worth reading, as well.

the apples and the tree

As I sat watching Charles's kindergarten play this morning, I was thinking about my mother. She would have loved to see him - he was beaming, his movements were expressive, and you could clearly hear him above the other kids. Good projection. Very much like my mother. In the good way.

Afterward, there was a 'reception'. Otherwise known as 75 kindergarteners and their parents, grandparents, and younger siblings crammed into the moderate-sized school cafeteria while the kids lined up amidst the chaos to snatch food off a table filled with messy cut fruit, mini bagels with cream cheese tubs and knives to play with, and a supply of mini donuts that probably disappeared after the first 10 kids went through. (I was grumpy about this reception - I wanted to take mine out for food, since I hadn't had time to eat before we left the house, and he threw a big fit about wanting to stay. He ate one purloined mini donut, 6 blueberries, and a chunk of honeydew. Honestly.)

I was in hell. I can't stand these massive crushes of people.

Recently, I've been feeling a bit fish-out-of-water. Uncomfortable and ill-at-ease with the other moms, at peace only when in a one-on-one (rare) conversation or at home. This is pretty much my natural state, and I am reminded of why I need to push through these feelings. Because I imagine my mother felt very similar when I was in school. But instead of pushing through, she retreated, holing herself up in the house (without even the internet! GASP!), and we all know where that led. And it wasn't good for me, either. Without her help and encouragement, I was thrown back on my own resources. As a loner of an only child, I was more than happy to disappear into the house, and a vicious cycle was born.

Now, I'm a big fan of being home and learning to appreciate time on your own, but I have to remember as well that pushing myself to get out and about and find common ground with the land creatures (fish out of water, remember?) is a necessary part of the job. Because I want my kids to have a better childhood than I had, and I don't want to end up like my mom.

book reviews

Large stacks of books have been waiting for me to get my office cleaned out. Now that I have (and it looks lovely!), here we go!

L.M. Montgomery, Jane of Lantern Hill. I find this one delightful. Jane is both more downtrodden and more cheerful than most of Montgomery's heroines. She's a resourceful sort, and the worlds she lives in are well drawn.

Irene Hunt, Across Five Aprils. This is such a simple book, but classic for all that. In spare, authentic language, it tells the story of the Civil War as seen through the eyes of one young boy, with all the depths of feelings that cataclysm brought forth. An utter classic.

Tara Ariano/Sarah D. Bunting, Television without Pity: 752 Things We Love to Hate (and Hate to Love) about TV. Containing all the snark that used to be such a hallmark of the TwoP site (now sadly owned by Bravo and a bland imitation of its former self), this book was a clever sendup of many of the best and worst things about TV. Sadly, it's also quite outdated, having been published in 2006. It's amazing how fast things move in the world of entertainment.

Laura Ingalls Wilder, The Long Winter. I can't tell you how many times I've read this book, and I discover something new in it every time. It has only been in recent years that I've realized that what seems an innocent family tale is actually a chronicle of a family slowly starving to death, and the miracle that they actually survived.

5 things that make me happy today

Today is a sunny, rather chilly Monday. Wind is playing through the trees, and thanks to naptime and school, I have a quiet house. So it's time for some happiness!

1. John Hannah's Scottish accent. Have to admit it. :)

2. The wonderful husband who gave me the John Hannah BBC DVDs in the first place.

3. The aforementioned naptime and school - what's not to love?

4. Coffee! Have I mentioned before how I love it?

5. Three happy, healthy children.

peace and quiet

Today, I am grateful for a few things:

School, where my two sons are.
Naps, one of which my daughter is taking.
Sun, which is streaming into the windows.
A relatively clean house, which allows me not to have to worry about cleaning it further.
The Dukes of Hazzard, Season 1, which is currently in the DVD player.

It all adds up to a lovely, quiet afternoon.

why I hated The Shack

I read The Shack for my book group. Now, to be fair, I read about a third of the book. And then I was so disgusted that I threw it in the trash, because I didn't want to be the reason a copy of that book made it into general circulation.

For starters, as a writer and a publishing professional, I found the book offensive. A junior in high school could have done better. The writing was absolutely puerile, and an insult to thousands of people all over the world who deserve to be published and can't be.

Secondly, I am a believer that everyone must come to God in their own way. I do not appreciate someone trying to explain God to me, through, of course, their own interpretation. After all, that is what the Bible, the Talmud, the Koran, and even the Book of Mormon are for. And the hubris of one man thinking he has those answers ... words fail me.

Third, I was offended by the use of the framing device, the murder of the little girl, and the illusion of reality. I felt manipulated, and not in a good way. And I felt that framing device trivialized the experiences of people who have actually lost children.

The world is full of bad books. Fortunately, I haven't read most of them. In this case, I appreciated being able to remove one copy from the world.

sentiment

I find I'm not very sentimental these days. Went through my mom's house, chucked massive amounts of things, including pictures, etc. Mother's Day? No, thanks. Valentine's day? Uh-uh. Which is interesting, because I used to be downright maudlin. And I'm not entirely sure what changed. Maybe it's just that I'm getting older and the easy tears and emotion of youth are drying up? But many of the moms I know who are older than I am are still bowled over by the cutesy cards and the tear-soaked emails. Sometimes I think it's Matthew, that the feeling of such unadulterated emotion makes the manufactured kind less palatable.

Either way, I hope my children don't grow up scarred by the lack of the Easter bunny.