Sightless Wednesday!

The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman

I loved the title of this book and chose it because I somehow thought I could relate. Someone who wants things to be perfect but is too lazy to make sure it happens.
A clever idea for a book, The Imperfectionists is really just a series of short stories based on the characters surrounding a sinking newspaper in Rome. Although I would have liked the characters to overlap a bit more, and perhaps a little less irony at the end of each, the stories were very well written and enjoyable to read. Mr. Rachman certainly has a way with a character sketch!
Although, overall, the themes were a bit depressing, I would still say I enjoyed reading The Imperfectionists, in spite of my laziness.

The Scent of Summer Past

Once upon a time I lived in the Black Hills of South Dakota in a little trailer in the alley behind Professor Straum’s Old Time Portrait Studio, where I worked while on delayed entry into the Air Force. It was a lonely/happy time. That is a strange combo platter, to be sure, but it really best describes the way it was for me.
Truly on my own for the first time, I learned how to find pleasure in the simple things .... find new friends, find new contentedness in myself and the air around me.
I loved that time in my life.
The Black Hills are an absolutely gorgeous place to find one’s self. Even on a tight “photographer’s” budget! During the week I dined on instant rice and enjoyed a little splash in the sink we used in the darkroom in lieu of a real bath.
For fun we held up the stagecoach a couple of times a day with the prop weapons we shared with the studio across the street (the “competition” was owned by the same person!) We took strolls on the boardwalk and hiked into the woods. We swam in a hot spring the local boys found and we dined on the kindness of travelers from time to time.
We dangled our feet in the stream while panning for gold and marveled at Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse. We told stories and shared laughter with strangers.
We wandered through caves and danced in the streets at night while drinking the cheapest beer we could buy and listening to mixed tapes of Missing Persons, INXS, U2, etc.
Once a week, I would splurge and pay 25 cents for a real shower at the campground and enjoy a bag of popcorn out of the machine.
I would climb to the highest peak and let the sun warm my face and the breeze rustle my hair. And I would dream the day away .....
The air is different there.
It was a sweet, simple time and I will never forget that summer ......

Every day I ride the Yellow Line to work. And every day I forget those memories of a warm South Dakota summer 26 years ago.
But each time I get off the train at Huntington Station, for a split second, I smell the forest of yesteryear. The Black Hills. Every day I forget and every day I am reminded again as if for the first time.
Each and every day I am treated with a pleasant memory hidden away in the back of my mind caught forever in the sweet scent of the air at a train station in Alexandria Virginia.
Life is funny like that.

Dog Days of Spring!

Tops

Still Alice by Lisa Genova

In spite of the delicate subject matter, I am so happy I read Still Alice by Lisa Genova. I considered putting it down when I realized what the book was about, but thankfully, I did not.
I have a sister-in-law, also named Lisa, who’s mother was diagnosed with early on-set Alzheimer’s disease at a young age. I remember Lisa, a strong, funny woman and natural caregiver, telling me stories of the progression of her mother’s disease and the struggles she and her family endured.
In turns tragic, frustrating, poignant and comical, life with Alzheimer’s is a difficult one for everyone involved. I remember seeing Lisa’s mother changing before our very eyes and how I felt whenever I was around her.
I felt uncomfortable and embarrassed. And that embarrasses me to this day.
Still Alice is a moving story of a fifty year old woman in the prime of her life and career being diagnosed and living with early on-set Alzheimer’s disease. Written in first person, this novel delves into the progression of a fatal disease and what it means for the life of a YOUNG woman with a brilliant career, happy marriage and growing family.
But, it is so beautifully written ... elegantly blending medical facts with extremely raw human emotion. Amazingly, I found it extremely uplifting! Sometimes we have to understand (and having lost loved ones to fatal illnesses over the last decade, it’s something I have firsthand experience with) that, although a life is altered and, sadly, shortened, it is still a life worth living and respecting.

My House

The Girl Who Fell From the Sky by Heidi W. Durrow

Once again, I chose a very sad book.
A story of labels and tragedy, confusion and pain.
A story of how words can wound and how sometimes life just gets in the way of living. Thank God for the cherry blossoms
and birds chirping
and for lunch breaks under the springtime sun
~ if not for these simple pleasures,
I would have been left depressed and darkened.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

In spite of my abnormally large head, I am far from what I would consider a brainiac. I did not excel in math and science and spent most of my education baffled by that subject matter.
So no one is more surprised than I am that I absolutely loved “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” by Rebecca Skloot. I am not even sure why I chose this book. Probably only because the author shares my name. Seriously, I am that simple.
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks is the beautiful story of a young mother who walked into Johns Hopkins Hospital complaining (although not much complaining from Henrietta) of a painful "knot" in her cervix and a bloody vaginal discharge. That day, she was diagnosed with cervical cancer, and the appearance of the tumor was unlike anything that had ever been seen by the examining doctor.
Cells from the carcinoma were removed from Henrietta’s body for research purposes without her knowledge or permission and became the first cells to be grown and kept alive in a laboratory.
This story covers the amazing science and discoveries in medicine following the discovery of Henrietta’s cells (known as HeLa) and the life and struggles of the family who knew nothing about the advances in medicine attributed to their beloved mother.
So while their mother’s cells were busy making medical history significantly contributing to major cancer research,
the polio vaccine, space missions, first cloned and mapped genes, atom bomb research, etc.
Henrietta’s family still cannot obtain medical insurance.
And while Henrietta lies in an unmarked grave in Virginia, there is not so much as a wing in Johns Hopkins Hospital to honor her amazing contribution to medicine and healing.
This book covers science, medicine, law .... and humanity. I smiled, chuckled, gasped and wept openly while reading this amazing story. The author brilliantly put it all into words I could easily comprehend as she did the same for Henrietta’s family. I absolutely recommend reading “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks”!
Absolutely!

Sarah's Key by Tatiana De Rosnay

On July 16 and 17, 1942 , more than 13,000 victims (mostly women and children) were arrested in Paris and held at the Vélodrome d'Hiver and the Drancy internment camp nearby, then shipped by rail to Auschwitz. The Vel' d'Hiv Roundup, nickname for the Vélodrome d'Hiver: "Winter Velodrome" cycle track, was a Nazi decreed raid conducted by the French police. The roundup was one of several aimed at reducing the Jewish population in Occupied France. Very few of the transported Jews survived.
Sarah’s Key is a fictional story based on these horrifyingly factual events in the summer of 1942. Sarah’s story is heart-wrenching and difficult. The author, however, flip-flops between Sarah’s story and the story of an American journalist covering the 60th Anniversary of the Vel’ d’Hiv Roundup. Julia is an American who has been living in Paris for over twenty years, married to a French man and raising a child in Paris. She works for a newspaper catering to Americans living in France.
This back and forth between Sarah’s horrific experience and Julia’s modern day discoveries of those events makes it somewhat easier to read, although not nearly enough to take away the anguish and pain of Sarah’s story.
The first half of this book was riveting and nearly impossible to put down. However, once Sarah’s voice became silent, I found the story lost much of it’s luster. I liked the book very much, don’t get me wrong, and I still felt considerable compassion for Julia, but I missed hearing Sarah’s side of the story and the more intense facts surrounding it.
I missed her.
It is a sad, sad story.
On many levels.
This is a work of fiction albeit laced with graphic facts. It is not a text book. It is a story. Keeping that in mind, I would say it is worth reading.

The Queen of Clichés

My mother, like her mother before her, is the Queen of Clichés. I, on the other hand, while growing up was the Princess of Literal. The Amelia Bedelia of Mellette Elementary, if you will. It led to a lot of confusion and misunderstandings around our house. Me thinking my mother was crazy and she, in turn, thinking I had special needs. I walked around scowling and mystified most of the time, while she was walking around betting dollars to doughnuts and taking stitches in time.
I never knew what on God’s green earth she was talking about!
“Well, if you can’t see the forest for the trees, Rebecca, I don’t know what to tell you!”
Ummm, clearly! We lived on the plains of South Dakota ... what trees?! What forest? What was I missing?!
“Pretty is as Pretty does, young lady!”
Who is Pretty and what the hell does she keep doing to get me into so much trouble?
It was baffling!
As I wandered across the street one sunny afternoon, I heard “REBECCA ANNE!” screeching across the airways.
Huh?
“You didn’t look for cars any more than the man in the moon!”
Well, honestly, I probably was looking for the man in the moon which was why I didn’t see the car that nearly hit me!
My eyes were always bigger than my stomach and I was biting off more than I could chew. I was always looking a gift horse in the mouth, telling cock and bull stories, barking up the wrong trees and crying wolf ... although I have no recollection of doing any of these things.
I loved to draw when I was little and I remember asking my mother to join me.
“The only thing I can draw is a bath.”
Okay.
I was fine with that, although while I never saw her actually do it, I couldn’t figure out why she could draw this (according to her):



but not this:




Seemed odd.
I was a curious child, although usually too frightened to ask questions. Mostly because the answers were always so cryptic and confusing. When I did venture to ask a well-thought out and provocative question, my mother would simply roll her eyes and say, “Heavenly Nose, Rebecca.”
I won’t even tell you how old I was when I figured out she was saying, “Heaven Only Knows”, which, while still not answering the questions, would have at least made more sense!
And my grandmother, in addition to her entirely different set of clichés, simply said bizarre things. She was weird.
“Grandma?” I once asked. “There are no chairs left at the table, where should I sit?”
“You could always sit on my thumb.”
For the life of me I still don’t know what that meant!

The Room and the Chair by Lorraine Adams

I feel like I bumped my head and received a concussion where my reading taste buds have lost their ability to ... well, taste. I feel like I haven’t enjoyed a book in a long, long time. Perhaps it’s simply because it took me a long, long time to read this book, which I did not enjoy.
The Room and the Chair was confusing and irritating. Like an annoyingly overzealous child who wants to be everything when he grows up, but can’t really make an intelligent decision on the subject.
There were too many quick-change jumps from here to there, person to person. I found it difficult to keep track of the story and even more difficult to find a reason to care. I did not feel connected to any one character and only mildly with one story line or another - story lines that never did climax or connect even to each other.
And I may have to see a doctor concerning this concussion!

Nine Days in February

February 2, 2010
Day 1
I was always extremely thin as a child, teenager and young adult. And then I turned 26 and I popped. It was weird. It almost literally happened over night. I simply exploded!
It sucked!
I have gone up and down 25 pounds every few years for nearly two decades.
I struggle with self-loathing and low self-esteem.
I suck!
This is my diary of cleansing, soul-searching and (with God’s grace) weight-loss over a nine day period at the beginning of February. My husband was working in New Orleans for two weeks and I felt like this would be the perfect time to “cleanse” my system and get rid of the excesses in my life. I had visions in my head of being a noticeably thinner version of myself upon his return. Little did I know, we were about to be attacked by a record-breaking blizzard in our area that would leave me trapped in my home alone for the better part of two weeks!
On the very first day, I first started thinking about food at 9:45am. Not even so much hungry as just thinking about food. I didn’t start to actually feel hungry until 9:57am.
I am doing meal-replacement shakes for five of the nine days and a liquid fast for four of them.
My first shake was good! Large! I made it in the blender and since I only use the blender for frozen fruity beverages, the only thing missing to me was a banana and some booze. I am like one of Pavlov’s dogs .... hear the blender, think frozen adult treat. Putting that aside, I did enjoy the flavor of the shakes and readily accepted the fact that this was a meal, not a cocktail!
As time went on, I realized that I was cold and I am lazy. So I think about eating. I think about what food would taste like. I am not hungry. I am bored.
It snowed overnight.
I was able, however, to stick to the plan and lost over 4 pounds the first day! I am drinking the Kool-aide now, baby! This stuff really works!!
Okay, on day two - I am inspired! I think I will do a fast today and tomorrow. I feel slightly hungry this morning but more, I believe, out of habit than hunger. I always wake up, grab a diet soda pop and make something to eat. I am going to get a glass of water and plan my day! I can’t believe I lost over 4 pounds in a day doing NOTHING! This is amazing! Fasting will be far more difficult, I know, but it will so be worth it in the end!!!!!
I am feeling very positive right now!
I first started feeling my real hunger pangs at about 4pm on the second day of my plan, the first day of fasting. It’s the first I’ve actually felt my stomach growling and I found myself thinking about food constantly. The commercials and television programs seemed to absolutely bombard me with images of lovely meals and treats.
I am giving it up to Jesus.
I am reminding myself how much I do not like ME right now. I am reminding myself of how ugly I feel and how I shy away from social situations and cameras simply because I cannot stand the way I look. I really want to be successful with this plan.
I have a pack of green Jell-o looking at me. It is my cheat. It is ten calories and no sugar. If I DO cheat with the Jell-o, it’s not really that bad, I think.
I stare at the Jell-o snack pack and it stares at me. For three hours.

I didn’t cheat!! I am going to bed feeling good about myself!!!!

I did not sleep well at all that night! When I did sleep, I dreamed of food and cockroaches! And drowning.
Miserable!
I felt very tired the next morning. I felt a bit shaky, but not terribly hungry. I was not looking forward to another liquid day, but I believed I could do it!! I was so pleased with the results!! I lost 6.6 lbs in two days! I only expected 7lbs total, so I was extremely pleased!!
YAY!!!!
This is a note I wrote to myself:
“OKAY! DO NOT TELL ANYONE WHAT I AM ABOUT TO TELL YOU!
I can totally see how eating disorders happen. After 2 days of fasting, I am sitting here worried that there won't be much loss tomorrow. I am stressing about putting on weight when I get to eat my one meal for the next four days. I am feeling some bizarro power over myself and my hunger and desire to eat. It's weird!!! I don't think it will last, sadly, but for right now I am feeling it. And it's gross that I say "sadly"! Like I freking WANT an eating disorder!”

Feb 5, 2010, first official snow day - although it hasn’t even started snowing yet! I made it through two days of fasting and was losing weight.
I was absolutely thrilled with my results!! I was a little shocked, truth be told, but absolutely thrilled!!
We were expecting and received a ton of snow starting that day, so I took a vacation day. I was worried about getting stuck in DC, which normally would have been fun! I could have stayed with a friend and it would have been an adventure, but with Jerry gone, I couldn’t take a chance on not being able to get home to my dogs.
And in a very selfish way - I was thrilled! If I was home, I would not face as many temptations. I knew that if the weather got as bad as they were saying, Metro would be closed the next day which meant I wouldn’t be back to work until the following Monday!! I was really thinking “this is it”!! I had lost over 8 pounds and it was only the beginning of Day 4!! I had 5 more days of the program and a couple of extra days just to be safe!
I was so happy!!!
I had my first shake of the day at 11:15am. I was ready for it! After 2 days with no food, it tasted like heaven! It was like having a treat!! I bought myself some bendy straws and I was feeling rather decadent!!
Ha!
I was feeling fantastic!
Journal entry: “I am home during a snow storm. The news is saying we are in for a huge blizzard. It is gently snowing now, but it started right on cue. They are talking about losing power and water, but I think I am fine. I have plenty of bottled water and enough food for my meager meals anyway. The timing is actually perfect! Since I don’t even have to be at work, there is nothing to stress about as far as the weather! If I lose power, I will just bundle up my pups in the bedroom and grab my book. I have plenty of candles. It’s almost exciting!!”

My first solid meal since noon on Tuesday was 560 calories. And delicious! The flavors almost seemed .... intense.
And, expectedly, I had boo-boo belly.
Ugh.
Day 5. Snowed in alone with my dogs and my appetite. Alas, my weight did not drop overnight. It did, however, stay the same. I was worried about adding food after the fast, so I am so pleased that my weight didn’t go up!
“Today I am facing the kiss of death: Boredom! I will not let myself eat out of boredom. Or convince myself that I am starving out of boredom. Or talk myself out of sticking to the plan out of boredom.”
I have several FEET of snow to remove from my driveway so I may possibly leave the homestead and venture back into the real world at some point. People will think I had been snowed in without food, I am so damn thin! I drank gallons of water while I shoveled, scooped and pushed the heavy snow. I was freezing, exhausted and hungry.
Feb 10, 2010
Day 9
Another freking blizzard!
This is day 9 of my program. The last day! It is a fasting day which means no solid food. I went to work the day before and successfully fasted the entire day. Today is also yet another snow day for me. I have only worked two days since I started this program! Both were Fasting days, ironically. I am thinking, I can actually do this!! I can’t believe I have lost 10lbs!!
I am thrilled and scared!
I am also freezing!
The heat in my house can’t keep up with the cold outside. Especially with the added pleasure of 35 mph winds. I thought, What Would Jerry Do? Oh yeah, he would turn on the oven for heat!
I did that.
And the ghosts of every wonderful thing ever baked in that oven are visiting me like it’s Christmas Eve in Victorian England! Every pizza, every cookie, every cake, every Thanksgiving dinner and pasta casserole, every turkey, cheesy potato, and brownie ... all marching by me like a Mardi Gras parade. While I slowly freeze and starve to death, my oven is whistling “When the Saints Come Marching In” ....
... but I WILL NOT CAVE!!!
Day 10
The program is “officially” finished!! However, I am going to continue to lose on my own. I am positive of this fact. I am not super thrilled to weigh what I weigh, but it is an awesome start !! 11.2 pounds lost in nine days! That is amazing!
I am remembering Bridget Jones’s Diary (the book) when Bridget lost a bunch of weight and was so tickled with herself. She couldn’t wait to go to work so everyone could tell her how amazing she looked! She got to work and everyone looked at her with disgust, “What happened?! You look terrible! Were you sick?!?!”
I was expecting that to happen to me. I was prepared for that reaction! I had several quick comebacks for their reactions. 11.2 pounds in nine days is huge! People will feel sorry for me. They will think I was stuck all alone out in the woods in the blizzard of a lifetime ... no food ... perhaps an illness.
But I could handle it. I would handle it with grace and humor while feeling delightful inside my new svelte frame!

No one noticed.
Not one coworker.
Not one friend.
Not one husband who had been gone for two weeks.
No. One. Noticed.

Yesterday, a colleague came into my workplace looking wildly thin! I couldn’t believe it! I gushed over him! He was happy and said he just reached his goal weight the day before! He had lost 75lbs! Amazing!!
Another coworker and friend said, “He looks the same to me.”

....I felt a little better!

Where the God of Love Hangs Out by Amy Bloom

I am not sure what is wrong with me. I choose books that other people seem to like. I choose books that are recommended on television, magazines, newspaper reviews .... I choose books that are supposedly amazing. I choose books because I like the cover.
But, for some reason, I am not getting it.
Where the God of Love Hangs Out is a book of short stories. I love short stories and was excited to read this novel. Some of the little tales in this book connect to each other and some stand alone. A little weird, honestly, but I could live with that. And the author is obviously talented. But, for me, the stories were just sad and a little .... well .... sexual.
Now, I am no prude, but I was a little unimpressed with the infidelity and near-incestuous sexual content. Perhaps in one story, I wouldn't mind on the grounds that it was one story and a look into that specific life. But the theme popped up again and again and I just wasn't enjoying it, frankly.
Her characters were lovely, however, and I could easily believe each and every scene she created. Her writing is extremely real.
All and all, definitely not a bad book. It was simply not one that I would recommend or even look back upon with any degree of fondness.

What Mr. Eliot Said ...

“Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.”
— Charles W. Eliot

The Draining Lake by Arnaldur Indridason

Honestly, The Draining Lake will not go on my list of favorites. I didn’t hate it, necessarily, I simply did not enjoy it as much as other novels I have read.
The title, to me, had very little to do with the story itself, firstly. I could dig deeply and find a meaning, I suppose, but it would be a stretch and not really worth my time.
It was tough for me to get started, though, because I became tangled up in words. I do not speak Icelandic. For awhile, I didn’t know if the author was talking about a person or a lake. Many characters were introduced very quickly, and with their unrecognizable names, I didn’t know if they were women, men, proper names, titles, ... cities .... ?
This book is part of a series, apparently, and perhaps I would have struggled less with the names if I had read a few of the others, but I doubt it.
I liked the mystery of this book, especially the back story about a group of Icelandic students attending university in Communist East Germany during the 1950’s. But the mystery was more interesting than the outcome and some story lines were left completely unresolved, which irritated me.
I feel like I struggled through so much confusion with language only to be disappointed with the story in the end.

So It's the Laughter We Will Remember

I was very young when I met my cousin, Laura. Perhaps five or maybe six years old? That seems so young, but it has to be true. My mother was dating my stepfather at the time and we made a summer vacation trip to Pierre SD to meet his sister and her daughter. They lived out in the country with land as far as the eye could see ... and horses!! In my little head, it was absolutely beautiful!
A foal was born while we were there!
I learned to “ride” that weekend. Well, I learned to hang on that weekend. And I learned the time tested and most valuable lesson of getting right back on the horse that throws you.
Laura and I hit it off instantly. We were very close in age and our personalities clicked. We rode the horses and climbed fences. We wandered the fields and found a huge pile of dirt to play in. A really huge pile, like the kind of pile you can see from a distance of several miles. A mountain of dirt that would take five minutes to climb to the top and only one to slide back down! We were absolutely filthy when we returned!
We laughed so hard I peed my pants.
My family pitched a tent in my cousin’s yard and while I was in the tent changing my pants (so embarrassing), one by one, each member of our “party” took turns walking by the tent to look in at me with horror and disgust! My soon-to-be aunt said, shaking her head as she walked by the flap of the tent, “And I thought you were a big girl!” She must have insisted my cousin come into the tent to apologize.
“I’m sorry I made you wet your pants.”
“It’s okay.”

Ahhhh ha ha ha ha ha!!! And we laughed some more!

It wasn’t the last time I laughed to the point of pee with my cousin. We became the best of friends. My Gramps called us Kissin’ Cousins. We wandered over most of South Dakota on our bare feet, ice skates, bicycles, horses, canoes, cars ....
She was in my wedding and I was in hers.
I held her son.
And we laughed a lot.
Sadly, Laura battled demons I will never know. For every bit of laughter there was an equal number of tears. I am sorry for her sadness. I am sorry for her pain.
I feel like I said good-bye to my friend a long time ago, but now I say good-bye to my cousin.

Rest In Peace, Laura.

I promise to always remember
the laughter....

Laura McKenna Halligan
September 2nd 1967 - January 21st 2010

Random Loveliness on a Winter Day

If a Picture is Worth a Thousand Words, Then a Thousand Pictures Must Be ... a Library!

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski

Janet Maslin of the New York Times boldly warned me that if I picked up this book, I should expect to feel very, very reluctant to put it down. She was wrong. I did want to put it down. Every time I picked it up and sobbed through a lunch break, I wanted to put it down. Every tear-stained ride on the train made me very, very reluctant to pick the book back up.
But I did.
Because I thought it would be worth it in the end.
I don’t know why I chose this book in the first place. I didn’t know it was a “dog story” or I probably wouldn’t have. I love dogs, but the thing about dogs is: they die. They give us everything they have, they entwine their lives so intricately with our own, they give us love, laughter, adventure, companionship, warmth .... and in return, they get a lifespan a fraction of our own. I get that. I hate it, but we invite them into our hearts anyway, because it’s worth it in the end.
So, I picked up the book time and time again and I let Almondine into my heart despite my best instincts. She reminded me so deeply of my sweet, departed Borderline that I was reduced to puddles each time I saw her name on the page. But I let myself fall in love with her and I prepared myself for the inevitable.
I let the tender, passionate boy, Edgar, into my heart as well. I ached with him and screamed within myself so that he may have a voice. I begrudgingly went along on his journey because I thought, somewhere, somehow, at the end of it all ... it would be worth it.
So I nursed wounds, went hungry, pondered questions, stared into the very grimace of danger for this boy and his dogs. I mopped my own tears and bought more Tylenol for my aching head and I plodded through the Wisconsin woods in search of the truth and safety.
But for all of the things I loved about this book: the author’s beautiful way with words, his understanding of dogs and their relationships with each other and their human companions, the premonitions and ghosts, the adventure and bonding, sadly, it wasn’t worth it in the end.
The book simply ended badly. It was all wrong. Nothing I had put myself through for nearly six hundred pages (no matter how beautiful and well-written) was worth what happened in the end.
Maybe I am a sap. Maybe I really do need the happy ending. Maybe I simply need to know that the bad guy gets punished and the good guy gets his just rewards. Maybe I need to know that the truth matters.
Perhaps.
Maybe I just need to know that what I’ve been led to believe for the entirety of a story is the right thing to believe.
What if someone shot Benji at the end of the movie? Or if Lassie jumped into the well to save Timmy and they both just drowned? We can’t take that kind of pain. We don’t deserve it.
An author can’t blatantly drag me kicking and screaming to the edge of a cliff only to push me off.
It’s not fair.
My heart won’t survive that.
It's not worth it in the end.

Multi-tasking

Any border collie worth her weight in snowballs should be able to relay valuable life lessons to a puppy while running really, really fast!

Nubs

I bought "Nubs: The True Story of a Mutt, a Marine & a Miracle,” by Major Brian Dennis, Kirby Larson, and Mary Nethery as a Christmas gift for my niece's children. Their dad is in Afghanistan right now and I knew they would all be missing him very much over the holidays. I love books and dogs and I thought this would be a perfect gift.
When the book arrived, I could not resist reading it before I wrapped it and sent it with the other gifts.
This is an amazing true story of a very special Iraqi dog and his big-hearted American Marine friend. Nubs (a nickname earned by having his ears cut off by an Iraqi soldier) immediately felt a connection to one Marine and his team and struggled his way through abuse, dogfights, a stabbing, and an over 70 mile trek in 18 degree weather to be together.
This book beautifully covers not only Nubs' journey to find his Marine, but also the journey Maj.Dennis endured to make sure Nubs made it safely to his home in San Diego.
This is a beautiful book for children and adults alike including photos, maps, notes and a happy, touching story of hope, resilience and companionship.

Christmas Jars Reunion

The idea behind "Christmas Jars" is simple, you take a jar and set it on your kitchen counter for a year. Everyday you drop your left over change for the day into the jar and on Christmas Eve, you give it to someone you believe needs it most. It doesn't have to be a lot, it's the thought that counts. It's a special way of letting someone know that you care.
The story, The Christmas Jars Reunion by Jason F. Wright (which I believe is a sequel to a book I haven't read), is a cheesy little tale of the people surrounding the origin of the Christmas Jars tradition.
Sure, it's sticky, syrupy, sugary, sweet .... sure, I welled up a bit on the train while reading .... sure, it was a bunch of powdery fluff ...
But it's Christmas!!
That's what it's all about!

Blizzard of 2009

Where I Work ...

Oliver Twist

Thank God for Charles Dickens’ wonderful sense of humor and playfulness with words, or I would have found Oliver Twist far too tragic to enjoy. I read a version of Oliver Twist that most closely resembles the original print, and I actually found it somewhat difficult to read. I was forced to reread full paragraphs and pages at a time (not to mention my juvenile sense of ridiculousness that forced me to become hung up on trivial matters such as “Master Bates” being a funny name, as just one example). This means I spent nearly two weeks with Oliver and the cast of good and evil. It was honestly somewhat depressing for this glorious time of year!
It’s amazing how many people have never read Oliver Twist or much of Dickens at all. And when you read a classic, people will stop you to discuss the fact. I actually love that, although most people had nothing to discuss as they have never read it. I hadn’t read it either, frankly, and only remembered one line from the movie, “Please, sir, I want some more.”
Well, that little event happened in the first chapter of the book and really wasn’t the most important point, by any means!
I would suggest folks go back and read the classics. Mix them in with their contemporary counterparts because they can get a bit heavy, but books we were required to read as children (books we should have read as children but didn’t) have much more meaning and bring considerable more pleasure when read as an adult. I remember reading classic novels simply to find the answers to questions. And because I read slowly, I was always playing catch-up and skimming rather than reading.
I missed a lot ....
Oliver Twist is a lesson not only in poverty, but in goodness, evil, preservation, truth and justice. I had no idea there would be scandal, murder, intrigue, and oh-so-much anxiety in a story I thought was about a poor orphan boy with a cute accent!

It made me hungry!

Prep & Landing

I love television. I always have, always will, and I am not embarrassed about it! I love regular programming, special programming, network tv, cable tv .... you name it! I love it!
I always felt ripped off, however, on my birthday. On my early November birthday, all other programming was interrupted and I got elections. Election reports, election updates, election results. Mudslinging, slanderous ad campaigns ... I hated it! It wasn’t fair! How could God do this to me?!
And I was painfully jealous, too, because on my sister’s birthday just one month later (insert angels singing, harp and organ music, the heavens opening up and glorious beams of light), she got: (Ahhhhhhhhhhh) Frosty the Snowman. Seriously? I get Election Results and she gets Frosty the Freakin’ Snowman?!?!?!
Oh the humanity!
I adore Frosty the Snowman, and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, The Year Without Santa Claus, the Grinch ... all of them!
Last night I was excited to see that Charlie Brown’s Christmas was on at 8/7 Central! Yay! I was happy to watch an old favorite and enjoyed it almost as much as I did as a child.
But then, ABC threw me a nice little gift (and it wasn’t even my sister’s birthday!): Disney’s Prep & Landing!
Prep & Landing is ABC's first television special produced by Walt Disney Animation Studios and reveals the never-before-told tale of an elite unit of Elves known as Prep & Landing, who prepare our homes for Santa's arrival. It was brilliantly fresh and clever. The story was brand new and modern while never disrespecting everything we know and love about Christmas. In this modern day and age, Prep & Landing brought back so much magic that is Christmas and did it with a happy new twist and gorgeous animation.
It was funny, clever, suspenseful, tender .... in a word: Magic! I absolutely loved it and am only sad that I have to wait a whole year to watch it again! Maybe they will air it on November 7th, 2010 ... ?!
I’ll start campaigning now!

Reindeer Pause

The real deer in our neighborhood really like the pretty lighted reindeer! Oh, and Dear Santa, I would like a new camera for Christmas! It's difficult to stalk our nocturnal friends with the one I've got! I've been a good girl, of course!
Thank You!

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

'Twas the Night Before Christmas
(or A Visit from St. Nicholas)
by Clement Clarke Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

"Now Dasher! Now Dancer!
Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid!
On, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes--how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"


Clement Clarke Moore's famous poem, which he named "A Visit From St. Nicholas," was published for the first time on December 23, 1823 by a New York newspaper, and it remains a family favorite to this day. It is a glorious example of pure magic. Not only of a season, but of words, and story-telling and of setting a mood.
It makes us believe in the unbelievable!

Niner!

My baby is nine! How did that happen? Allie is a sweet little dog who loves to play with anything you throw for her. True to her border collie nature, she likes to herd and does well when everyone stays in a group or at least in one room, and she does keep one eye on me no matter where I go. She sleeps with me every night and wakes up each morning to greet me as if she hasn't seen me for a month. She makes our home a happy place and I wish her all the doggie happiness she can imagine!
Happy Birthday, Allie! We love you!!