Quote by Louis L’Amour—
The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail. Travel too fast, and you miss all you are traveling for.
Quote by Louis L’Amour—
The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail. Travel too fast, and you miss all you are traveling for.
My husband walked into the mud room as I was putting towels into the washing machine. He said, “Oh, laundry day?”
Where has he been living for the last 4.5 years that he doesn’t know that every day is laundry day?
The children usually get up before I do. I can hear them moving around, using the bathroom (they are both capable of managing that on their own now!), and talking. Sometimes they discuss strategy before they invade my bedroom to wake me. One day they were about to come in when Livia warned, “But Mommy said one at a time!” And Marshall replied, “No, she said we could only go in one time.” They continued this debate in adorably serious tones for a while, but to little purpose. Ultimately they both came in, same as always.
They’ve developed what they seem to think is a stealth approach. They get down on the floor and crawl past the foot of the bed so that I can’t see them. They pop up when they reach my side of the bed. Then one of them does something that they think will wake me up, like poking my nose or blowing in my face. And they say, “Mommy, we want to get up now.” That amuses me, because they’re already up, obviously.
I’m always awake when they come in but rarely ready to get out of bed. I’m thoroughly exhausted in the morning, no matter what time I go to sleep. I feel bad for not getting up earlier to take care of them. But as much as our mornings aren’t perfect, I love the little ways the kids have developed to “manage” me. And they seem to enjoy their routines, too. So it works out in its own strange way.
Every day Marshall chants, “I wish for more snow. I wish for more snow. I wish….” And what can I say but that it seems to be working? There’s a lot of snow on the ground (courtesy of three recent storms) and more is expected on Thursday.
The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer, A (Kindle version)
This is a well-written dystopian story about a boy named Matt who grows up on the estate of a drug lord in the fictional land of Opium, a country located between Mexico and the U.S. Matt is the drug lord’s clone, a fact that makes him an outcast to almost everyone except the cook (who raised him) and his temporary bodyguard. The truth about the country, with its clones, eejits (people whose brains have been partially destroyed so that they are easily controlled) and poppy fields, is slowly and sometimes painfully revealed. Some of it might seem like familiar territory to fans of sci-fi, but it is nonetheless an engrossing read. Recommended.
The Princess Diaries, Vol. II: Princess in the Spotlight by Meg Cabot, A
Princess Mia is at it again, and she’s even funnier this time around. Recommended.
The Racketty-Packetty House by Frances Hodgson Burnett, B+ (Kindle version)
This is a story about dolls and enjoying life to the fullest, but it was just a little too short and too cutesy to really win me over.
Return to Gone-Away by Elizabeth Enright, A
This book is a sequel to Gone-Away Lake. Portia’s parents have decided to buy an old, abandoned house that she and her friends found in the preceding book. Much of the story revolves around the discoveries they make as they explore and clean up the house. Anyone interested in treasure-hunting and/or idyllic childhoods is likely to find this book enjoyable. Recommended.
Swan by Katherine Hole, B- (Kindle version)
Swan is a story about an overweight woman who is obsessed with a movie star. She has a low-paying job and no social life. She does nothing to improve her life except spend herself into debt to buy an updated wardrobe. Then she gets everything she’s ever dreamed of handed to her on a silver platter. The only reason I didn’t give the book a lower grade is that I’m a sucker for happy endings. Not recommended.
Last weekend was the weekend from Hell. Friday night around 11:00, I began experiencing stomach and back pain. Then came the vomiting. All night long, I retched periodically and was wretched constantly. There was no way to position my body so that the pain went away, so I kept moving—pacing, arching my back, lying down, getting back up—but still the pain went on and on. It was worse than labor. At least in labor you get breaks between contractions! I didn’t sleep at all.
At 8:00 a.m., I woke up my husband and told him to take me to the doctor. It was Saturday, so I had to settle for the urgent care center. The doctor there told me that it was probably stomach flu. I refused to accept that diagnosis. I almost never catch stomach flu, and when I do, it does not cause nonstop back pain. Then he said, “Well, I guess it could be gallstones.” He suggested that I make an appointment to have an ultrasound. That sounded reasonable, so that’s what I did.
Later that morning, the pain and nausea subsided enough that I was able to get some sleep. I was also able to take Advil, which was a very good thing, because somehow I managed to pull my back, too. Ouch!
I had the ultrasound on Monday, and it was conclusive. I not only have gallstones, my poor gall bladder is practically bursting from them. Apparently I’ve had this condition for a long time. It explains some of the digestive issues that I’ve had over the years. My symptoms were somewhat atypical, which is why they were repeatedly misdiagnosed.
Sadly, if I had known about the gallstones years ago, I might have altered my diet enough to avoid this situation, but it’s too late now. My doctor says that my gall bladder is a ticking tome bomb. It’s only a matter of time before I have another attack, and each attack carries the chance of life-threatening complications. My gall bladder has to go. I have an appointment to see a surgeon next week.
But on the bright side,
I was working on a Shutterfly album the other evening when Livia came over and said she wanted to tell me a story. She asked me to type it into the computer, so I opened up a new blog post and let her dictate the story to me. It’s a good thing I can type as fast as she can talk! Then Marshall insisted on telling a story, too. And I didn’t want to be the only one who hadn’t told a story, so I made one up for them.
Livia: Once upon a time there was a cow. He ate some grass. And then he ate the remote control. He ate a net. He ate Dora. He went into a box. Then he took my birthday banner down. That’s not good. Once upon a time he ate a cat. He ate a computer. And then he ate a cup. And then he ate markers and crayons. Then he ate my slippers. All the slippers. He ate Mommy and Daddy and Livia and Marshall, too. Then he ate the light and the blocks. He got a tummy-ache. Then he burped a big burp. He said, “Sorry.” And then he ate a window. And he ate the wall. Then he threw up everything. Then he ate a ball. Then he ate all the games. He said, “Sorry.” Then he ate a jewelry box. Then he got the hiccups. Then he’s going to eat the world.
The End
Marshall: Once upon a time there was a frog eating flies. And then he ate a house. And then he ate all of the grass. He was a monster. And he ate all the things in the whole world and he also ate the whole world. Then he ate a cat. He just ate more stuff, and he didn’t say sorry when he burped out all the things and they climbed out. And then he ate a cow, but he didn’t want to say sorry. Then he ate mommies and daddies and Livias and Marshalls. He was a monster, and he was getting fat from eating all of that stuff and he just grew, and then he ate a computer. And then he ate cats. And then he ate slippers, all of the slippers. Then he ate this thing (Marshall waves a CD case) and all the computers and this homework (waving homework paper), too. He ate all the stuff in the whole world and then he burped out all the stuff in the world. And everything else.
The End
Mommy: Once upon a time there were two little kids named Marshall and Livia. Marshall was a boy who liked to wear his green shirt. Livia liked to wear her pink princess dress. One day a monster came to the house and threatened to eat all of their favorite clothes. It ate all of their jammies first. Then he burped everything out. But their jammies were full of holes and covered with the monster’s stomach slime. Marshall and Livia didn’t want the jammies anymore. So they gave the jammies back to the monster and said, “Take them away, please!” And he did. And he was happy. And everyone else was happy that he was gone.
The End
Livia has been learning the ABC song from Marshall. She sings, “A, B, C, D, E, F, G—Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Z, Now I know, next time sing with me!” (or something like that). I thought I’d try to help her learn the rest of the song. I started to sing. “Stop, stop, stop!” she shouted. I asked her what the problem was, and she put her hands to her ears and said, “My ears don’t like noise.”
100 Cupboards by N.D. Wilson, A-
I enjoyed this slightly unusual book about a boy who, in the farmhouse where he’s staying with family, discovers cupboards that connect to other worlds. Parts of the premise were difficult to believe, and the book was clearly written to be the start of a series (I hate that). But some of the writing was excellent. I liked it enough to keep it, and I plan to read the sequel.
The Bad Child’s Book of Beasts by Hilaire Belloc, B
Rhymes about animals. Too short, dated.
The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly, A-
This is the story of a boy who is flung into a terribly dangerous world where he meets some dwarves that sound like they came from a Monty Python movie, a sort of female version of Dr. Moreau, and other elements of fairy tales and classic stories that have been turned upside-down. Some might call it “derivative” or “a pastiche,” but I thought it was original enough and that the jumbled elements worked together because the story is framed as a journey. While The Book of Lost Things seems like it ought to be a book for young adults, I think it’s just a little too dark. Recommended for adults only.
Duma Key by Stephen King, B+
A contractor who sustained lasting physical damage from a construction-site accident goes to a Florida key to convalesce. There he discovers an artistic talent so powerful that he seems able to affect the future by painting it. But, as his painting ability grows, an ancient evil is rising.
Parts of Duma Key are beautifully written. As I recall, nothing happened for the first 100 pages except the main character’s recovery, but it was engrossing. The problem was the silly, old evil that he had to combat later in the book. That part just didn’t work for me.
Edible Front Yard by Ivette Soler, A- and Sugar Snaps and Strawberries by Andrea Bellamy, A-
I’m thinking about doing some small-scale gardening someday, and I hoped these books could help me get an idea of what to grow and where. I don’t remember too many details about either book, but I thought both contained adequate information to get a beginner started. They convinced me that I should grow strawberries, blueberries, or potatoes at some point. But a big failure for both books, IMHO, is that they discussed every type of pest that might invade a garden except deer. If I do ever start gardening here, deer are likely to be a huge problem, so I will have to look elsewhere for strategies for dealing with them.
Half Moon Investigations by Eoin Colfer, B
In Half Moon Investigations by Eoin Colfer, a 12-year-old detective takes on a seemingly innocent case that could ultimately put his life in danger. I could tell almost immediately that this book wasn’t going to be a favorite. The writing is tolerable, but the characters and events are all nearly unbelievable. I just couldn’t get past certain things and that ruined the fun for me.
The House Between the Worlds by Marion Zimmer Bradley, B+
In this book, the main character is Cameron Fenton, who takes part in a test of a new drug, called antaril, which is supposed to increase ESP. For Cameron, it does more than that. It allows him to astrally project himself into other worlds. During these drug-induced “trips,” he discovers that all the worlds are in danger. There are those who would rip apart the boundaries between the worlds for pillage and plunder. To stop them, he must find the House Between the Worlds.
The House Between the Worlds used to be one of my favorite books. Maybe I was in a bad mood when I reread it this, the umpteenth, time. Or maybe it has finally become too dated (it was, after all, written when Dungeons & Dragons was really hot). If I had graded it only on this most recent reading, it would have fared worse than a B+, but how can we not forgive our oldest and dearest friends some flaws?
Marshall told me a riddle the other morning. He doesn’t know the standard wording for a riddle yet, so I’m paraphrasing here, but basically it went like this:
What do you get when you cross a crocodile and a rooster?
A croc-a-doodle-doo!
I don’t know where he got this riddle. If he made it up himself, I’m very impressed. If he got it from somewhere else, then I’m still pleased, because he chose to share it with me.
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