Favorite Things: Jingle Shells

The problem with owning many things is that it’s easy to forget that some of them exist. Whether they get accidentally buried under other things, or deliberately stowed away, or just plain overlooked, it’s all the same. They are wasted. It is therefore a good thing to be reminded of our forgotten belongings from time to time. And that’s something that children are good for, because they get into everything.

Livia was rummaging through my stuff one day when she found my bucket of jingle shells. For those who don’t know, jingle shells are translucent, opalescent shells from the sea. They come in a variety of shades ranging from white to yellow to orange. They may be flat or curved. Some come with natural holes, ready to be hung on a cord as jewelry. And some come with etchings on them, as if some sea creature had decided to write a note using its own undecipherable code. Jingle shells also make beautiful clinking sounds when they impact one another, which is probably how they got their name.

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IMG_2087 (copy) I picked up every single one of the shells in this bucket myself. I used to hunt for them as I walked up and down the beach at sunset. I spent many happy hours that way during my last year in Milford. And some unhappy hours, too. That was a tough time for me in a some ways, but I enjoyed my beach walks immensely and they helped to keep me on an even keel.

I love my jingle shells for their beauty, for the jingling sound that they make, and for the memories that they bring to mind. That is why they are some of my Favorite Things.

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New Year, New Computer

Part of the reason I did so little posting in December is that I was having computer trouble. My poor, old computer had almost run out of memory. My hard drive was full, and I kept getting warnings from the operating system that I needed to close programs or risk losing information. Not good.

So I copied all of my personal files over to the media server (at least I hope I got them all!). Then I handed my laptop to my husband and let him work his magic on it. He wiped the hard drive and installed a completely new operating system. And when I say new, I mean new.

So long, Windows! I’m a Linux girl now.

So it’s not technically a new computer, but it might as well be, because it’s faster and everything works differently. But I haven’t had any trouble adapting to Linux. I’ve figured out how to use the web browser, how to get the photos off my camera card, and how to crop and resize the photos. And today I found the word processor, so I’m all set. 🙂

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Remembering High-School English Class

Trying to write a synopsis of a book always reminds me of Mr. H, my least favorite high-school English teacher. Mr. H was energetic. He tried to engage the class. For example, when we were reading Beowulf, he used one of those rubber-monster finger puppets to represent Grendel. When we reached the part of the story where Beowulf ripped off Grendel’s arm, you better believe Mr. H tore off one of those little rubber monster arms and pinned it above the classroom door.

And yet I disliked Mr. H and dreaded every minute I had to spend in his class. One of his favorite in-class assignments was to make us write brief plot summaries of books we had read. He would spring the assignment on us without warning and give us little time to complete the task. I forget now what the maximum length was, whether it was one sentence or two. Either way, it was difficult and it made me miserable every time. He gave us no pointers (that I can recall) on how to distill a whole novel’s worth of character and plot into just a few lines. Though in fairness to him I have to admit that I was often absent. Maybe I missed a key class? Still, I can’t recall him ever offering me any individualized help either.

Looking back on it now, I wonder if I was the only kid who felt that way. Did the rest of the kids love Mr. H’s class? Did his zaniness inspire them? And did he actually manage to teach them how to order their thoughts and write concisely?

I have no way to know. But it’s sad that I still think of Mr. H when I’m trying to write a synopsis. And it’s even sadder that I still feel so inept at a task that I ought to have learned decades ago.

So perhaps it is time to take action. I have a whole new year before me. Couldn’t I find a little time to learn how to write a good plot synopsis?

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Stories from 2013: Livia

Dear Livia,

You learned to love singing this year. You can sing most of the alphabet song, which you learned from Marshall, but your favorite song is probably “Old McDonald.” You also like to sing bits of songs that you learned from your vovó. They have lyrics like “I love you just the way you are” and “Let’s talk about the things you do.”

You also started making up your own songs. One day you sang, “I like to dance in the bathroom all day long.” Then you danced to different areas of the room, singing, “And over here. And over here.” But the funniest song you sang was the one that went like this: “I’m a girl. I don’t have a peanut!”

You are fascinated with the idea of being a girl, and you insist on being called a girl. If I call you a pumpkin pie, for example, you’ll say, “I’m not a pumpkin pie. I’m a girl!” You also like being a princess, but not just any old princess. You are a Princess Bee when you’re wearing your bee jammies, a Princess Butterfly when you’re wearing your sparkly wings, and a Princess Mermaid when you’re in the bath.

Speaking of bee jammies, you were so jealous of Marshall’s that you used to cry every time he wore them. I finally broke down and bought some for you. They’re not quite the same as his, but you don’t seem to mind. You just needed those black-and-yellow stripes on the bottoms so that you could sting everyone. Unlike Marshall, who stings with his butt, you sting with your knee.

You’re still adventurous. During the summer you rode your little pink car down the driveway like a maniac. We had to keep a constant eye on you. You also loved riding down the roller coaster toy. You learned to climb the rock wall and rope ladder on your playground set, and also how to climb up to the observation post. That’s all pretty amazing for a kid under three!

You used to refuse to eat pasta, but then one day I offered you “sketti worms.” Those you loved!

A memory from 10/19: Today Livia was a duck sitting on an egg (soccer ball) in a nest (pile of leaves). We fed her the prettiest leaves in all the forest (maple leaves).

You love playing with art supplies, but you can’t be trusted with them. Somehow marker and crayon marks always end up where they’re not supposed to, like the tabletop or the wall. And you always draw on your hands with markers (Livia the Tattooed Girl!). You adore stickers, and though I’ve explained to you that they should only go on paper, you stick them everywhere, sometimes even on our backs. I often fail to notice them when I’m doing laundry and then I have to scrape off the remains after the clothes comes out of the wash.

You sure keep us on our toes. You are always getting into things, and you are, I sometimes think, too smart for us. What will you do with so much daring, intelligence, and joie de vivre in the upcoming year? I’m excited (and a little nervous) to see!

Love,

Mom

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Stories from 2013: Marshall

Dear Marshall,

You weren’t much of a talker until you started school. Now you’re in your second year of pre-K, and boy, do you talk! You tell us stories and make jokes. And ask questions—lots and lots of questions!

Many of your questions are difficult to answer. For example, we went on a tractor ride at the local farm. We pointed out the corn plants as we passed them. You asked, “How does a corn plant work?” Oy! Where do you even start with the answer? Pollination? Seeds? Photosynthesis? And while we can (amazingly!) often explain things in general terms that seem to satisfy your curiosity, there’s a lot we don’t understand ourselves. I often wish I could give you better answers.

You have beautiful manners now. For the longest time, no matter how many times we explained that asking nicely meant remaining calm and using the word “please,” you would just repeat the phrase “ask nicely.” But finally you have learned how to say please! You say “sorry” with great sincerity. And you don’t just say “thank you.” You elaborate, saying things like “Thank you for washing that, Mommy” or “Thank you for the milk.” And because we praise you often, you praise us right back, saying things like “Good job making the sandwich, Mommy!”

You are fascinated by the idea of time. You use phrases like “all the time,” “all day long,” “for ever and ever,” and “a hundred years.”

When you don’t want to do something (e.g., trying a new food), you say things like “maybe tomorrow” or “maybe when I grow up.”

The only words I’ve noticed that you still have special pronunciations for are “calendern” (calendar) and “ginding” (beginning). Until recently, you were using these:

tar = guitar
grasspoppers = grasshoppers
samwich = sandwich
teefis = teeth
thomas = hummus

You’ve come a long way this year. You know most of the alphabet and can sing the whole alphabet song. You can spell and write your first name, and you recognize certain short words (e.g., “hot”) when you read them. You constantly surprise us with your vocabulary, using words like “crescent” and “octagon.” Wow!

We are so proud of you and can’t wait to see how you grow in 2014!

Love,

Mom

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Charley the Elf

Dear Kids,

One day in early December Marshall asked, “Have you heard of the Elf on the Shelf? It’s a book!”

I had heard of the Elf on the Shelf. I had been introduced to the idea by Auntie Jeanne, and frankly I wasn’t sure that I wanted one. But when Marshall mentioned it, I asked if he wanted one. He said yes, so I told him I’d call up Santa and make arrangements.

Santa sure acted fast. The next morning we were greeted by this sight:

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The elf was sitting atop a cabinet in the kitchen. His bright red clothes and merry smile stood out against the light colors of the cabinet and walls. You noticed him immediately.

As the book told us, the first thing to do was to give the elf a name. I started to rattle off a list of boy names for you to choose from. The first name I thought of was Charley. As soon as I said it, Livia cooed the name with such obvious adoration that I never got to the rest of the list. Marshall agreed, and so Charley the elf became.

Marshall was quiet that first morning, seemingly conscious that Big Brother was in the house. He kept whispering. After a while he got used to Charley and spoke at a normal volume, but still he struggled with the idea of the elf. He told his father, “He doesn’t look real. But he’s real.”

As the days passed, Marshall grew fonder and fonder of the elf. And you both came to enjoy the game of finding him each morning. Because that’s part of how the elf works. Every night he goes to the North Pole to make his report to Santa, then he flies back here and picks a new place to sit for the day.

Charley appeared in many locations over the course of the month, including Marshall’s backpack, the Christmas tree, and the light in the dining room. One morning he was holding a marker and a piece of paper with your names on it! He kept to the high places mostly, probably so that there was no chance of you touching him, because one of the rules it that you can’t touch the elf (it might make his magic go!).

We did have one difficult moment. Charley had chosen to perch on a cabinet knob. I opened the cabinet next to it and suddenly he was hanging upside down! Well, you father is a quick thinker, thank goodness. He took us all into the other room so that we could send wishes to Santa for help. When we got back to the kitchen, Charley had sorted himself out again. Whew!

I admit that your father and I sometimes used Charley to help control your behavior. If you were being naughty, we’d threaten to tell Charley. I’d feel bad about it except that it worked so well. And I made up for it by praising your good behavior at the end of every day. Believe me when I say that Santa always got a balanced report!

Charley chose to take his leave on Christmas Eve while we were at your vovôs’ house. He left you each a book as a gift. Marshall got The Polar Express and Livia got How the Grinch Stole Christmas. My guess is that Charley wanted you to keep Christmas in your hearts throughout the year. That was nice of him.

You miss Charley. You’ve asked me about him every morning since Christmas. I feel so bad for you that I’m thinking of inviting him to Livia’s birthday party. There’s no harm in asking, anyway. It’s up to Santa to say yes or no. So I think we’ll send Charley an invitation and see what happens. I hope that he can come to the party!

Either way, you can rest assured that Charley will be back for Christmas. I am surprised to find that I’m looking forward to it. I guess Charley managed to work his way into my heart, too.

Love,

Mom

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The Book of Tiny Gardens

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Gardening in Miniature by Janit Calvo
Grade: A

If you’ve kept up with my blog, you know how I feel about the tiny gardens that grow on the rocks in the woods behind my house. And you know that I’ve considered adding little chairs and other human touches to them. I thought that I was the only one who felt the crazy itch to do those kinds of things. Then I saw this beautiful book at the library, and I knew that somewhere out there was another person even crazier than I (crazy enough to write a book about it!). How wonderful!

I was excited to borrow the book, and it did not disappoint. It contained advice about what to grow and where, information about sizing the accessories, instructions for making miniature patios and walkways, plus a couple of designs for newbies to follow. The pictures were great. I had to return the book to the library, but I might buy a copy of it someday.

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As My Whimsy Took Me

I never know where my reading whimsy will take me. Earlier this year it took me to the Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries by Dorothy L. Sayers. I give the character of Lord Peter Wimsey an A+, but I give the books grades ranging from C+ (for Gaudy Night) to A- (for Have His Carcase and Unnatural Death).

I read all of these books months ago, so I don’t remember every detail, but I will try to give a little synopsis for each and an explanation of why I did or didn’t like it. I never quite finished the series, so maybe next year, after I’ve had a good long break from it, I’ll try to read the rest. Here are the ones that I have read so far, in no particular order.

Whose Body?
Grade: B+

This is the first in the series. When a body is found in someone’s bathtub and another person goes missing, could they be the same person? It’s a decent mystery and Lord Peter is a hoot and a half.

Strong Poison
Grade: B+

Strong Poison is the fifth in the series and the first to feature Wimsey’s love interest, Harriet Vane. Harriet is a mystery novelist who has been accused of murdering her former lover. Lord Peter sees her in the dock and is instantly smitten. He believes that she is innocent and sets out to find the real murderer. The book starts slowly and IMHO awkwardly, but gets better as Lord Peter starts sleuthing.

Hangman’s Holiday
Grade: B

This is a collection of short stories. Some feature Lord Peter Wimsey and some feature a traveling salesperson named Montague Egg. I liked some of the stories and found others to be tedious. I’m not sure if I quite finished the book, but I read the majority of stories, and certainly all of those that featured Peter Wimsey. I would recommend this one only for serious fans.

Clouds of Witness
Grade: B+

This is the second in the series. In this one, Peter’s brother is accused of murder, but he refuses to produce an alibi. Naturally Peter starts sleuthing to clear his brother’s name. Though it wasn’t the best mystery, I enjoyed reading more about Peter Wimsey and his family.

The Five Red Herrings
Grade: B-

This story takes place in a coastal Scottish village that is a haven to fishers and painters alike. One artist, a particularly unpopular resident, gets killed and, since nobody liked him, everybody is a suspect. While I respect that many of the characters are Scottish, interpreting their accents gave me a headache, and the book-long obsession with train schedules (used as a clue) bored me near to tears. I barely finished this one. Not recommended except for die-hard fans.

Gaudy Night
Grade: C+

Though classified as a Peter Wimsey novel, Gaudy Night is really all about Harriet Vane. Harriet goes back to Oxford for a school reunion (called a “gaudy”). She becomes involved in a mystery (poison pen letters, pranks, etc.) and stays on to investigate it.

Sayers was clearly irritated by the notion that a woman had to choose between a husband and academics, and she went on and on about it. I don’t blame her. But modern readers may have a hard time relating. I did, anyway. Were it a better book, I’d say read it for the historical perspective, because we need to remember how it was so that we won’t let it be that way again.

But Gaudy Night is also slow-paced and terribly dull at times. There are too many characters, and none of them is likeable, not even Harriet! And ironically, given the feminist bent of the book, Harriet’s investigation into the mystery is so slow and inept that she has to be bailed out in the end by her adoring suitor, Peter Wimsey. Not recommended.

Have His Carcase
Grade: A-

In Have His Carcase, Harriet Vane is taking a walk along the shore when she finds a body (the “carcase”—mentally turn that silly “e” into an “s” and think “carcass”). She can’t move the body, but she’s a mystery writer, and she knows the body is going to be washed back to sea, not to be seen again before all evidence is destroyed by the water. So she takes pictures and notes and then reports it to the nearest police station she can find. This was an interesting mystery because the body was missing. I don’t remember why I liked this one more than some of the others, but I suspect it was Wimsey’s amusing banter.

Unnatural Death
Grade: A-

In Unnatural Death a doctor feels that his patient, an elderly woman with cancer, has died a bit sooner than she should have. Peter Wimsey takes it upon himself to investigate, and as he finds more clues, murders starts piling up. In the end, you know he will find the murderer, but a question arises—is justice worth the additional deaths that his investigation seems to be prompting? I think that that question may have weighed the mystery down a bit, but Peter Wimsey’s amusing banter is probably what buoyed it up to an A-.

Busman’s Honeymoon
Grade: B+

It took some maneuvering to get Peter Wimsey and his new bride into a honeymoon home with a dead body, but Sayers managed it. And while the story might feel contrived and even a bit depressing at times, it is worth reading for fans of the series. I really enjoyed parts of it, but overall it wasn’t that great.

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Christmas Day Walk

My dad and I went for a walk in the woods on Christmas Day. We explored the area below my perching spot. You can tell that it was once a quarry because of the straight lines and man-made marks on some of the rocks.

rockPerhaps it was quarrying that created this relatively smooth wall.

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The wall was covered with ice, and there was water flowing under the ice. It made a chilly sound reminiscent of dry leaves rattling in the wind.  In this close-up you can sort of see the water under the ice.

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Here is one of those wonderful pines that I had admired from my perching spot. That’s my dad walking around the tree.

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And this high point here might be my perching spot, but I’m not sure. My sense of direction is actually very good until I need it, and then it fails me. So I don’t entirely trust it!

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A Walk and a Word

I had my annual physical on Friday. My doctor asked me if I got a lot of exercise, and I said that I did at this time of year. I told her that if there’s snow in the air or on the ground, I’m going to hit the trail if I can. She replied that I was the complete opposite of all her other patients. So I dedicate this post to her patients, because perhaps if they joined me for one of my walks, they’d see how wonderful the snow can be.

The beginning of the trail always looks inviting to me, but even more so in the snow. The two trees form a sort of portal, and the snow makes it seem like a new and magical land lies beyond.

Snow Walk 2

Once in the woods, I paused to marvel at the lacing of snowy branches overhead. Here again the snow had transformed the mundane into the magical.

Snow Walk 3

Why do the beeches keep their leaves during the winter? I do not know, but I love that they do.Snow Walk 4.5

They say, “Be the first to make tracks in the snow.” Here I had reached an area where the riders sometimes go, but there were no tracks yet. I was the first!

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I stopped by the old quarry (which I mentioned in yesterday’s post) and I was amazed by this big pine. How many times had I seen it without noticing it? The snow had worked its magic again, this time to reveal. It was the contrast of the snow against the green of the pine that caught my eye.

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I think the snow also helped me to spot this old hornet’s nest.

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This is the second nest I’ve seen this year that was ripped at the bottom. I wondered what could cause that. I looked it up as I was writing this post, and I read that some animals, like raccoons, skunks, and bears, will rip the nest open during the fall to eat the larvae. Perhaps that’s what happened here. I also found, by the way, that a hornet’s (or wasp’s) nest is called a “vespiary.” Vespiary! I might have thought it was a place to hold vespers, or (jokingly) a garage for a Vespa scooter (I did not know that “vespa” is the Latin word for “hornet”).

So not only did I have wonderful walk, but I also learned a new word. It was exercise for both the body and the brain. My doctor would be pleased!

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