Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

My friend Andrea picked Jennifer A. Nielsen’s The Scourge for book club a few months ago, and this week the stars finally aligned for me to listen to the audiobook. (I wasn’t as enthusiastic about the plot at first, it being less my thing, but Andrea’s a pretty good judge of what I’m likely to enjoy anyway if I push through.) I admit, I was impatient to get past the one plot point that was making me crazy–purely in an “I’m an adult and I can see what’s coming and these are only kids but I just want them to FIGURE IT OUT already” kind of way–but once the book got there, it was an enjoyably adventurous ride from then on out. If you combine the idea of a leper colony with a country of unfair class systems and a suspicious government, adding to it a “only we know the truth and now we have to bring people together and save everyone and banter while we do it” sort of arc, you get a pretty solid idea of Scourge. Even not being my thing, it kept me reading (especially after the first third or so); I think its audience ought to love it. In the meantime, I’m going to return the audiobook and move on to the next book on my list!

This is, in fact, my second day of being left to my own devices for the whole school day, and I’ve already been to the junior high (to deliver a forgotten Chromebook and lunchtime water bottle), the dollar store, my aunt’s house, the pharmacy, the post office drive-through, and the library. After lunch I get to exercise and put an angel food cake in the oven, but in the meantime, I finished reading the graphic novel that my birthday girl is getting today over an early first-course-of-lunch, which means that I really ought to review it before I wrap it. (Despite the 3 or more books already waiting to be reviewed.)

Allergic is the sort of graphic novel I’m delighted to find; my 12-today-year-old can read and reread it all she wants without me worrying that she’s spending too much time with the characters. (She DOES obsessively read graphic novels, so this is a concern. There are plenty of books out there that I’m fine with her reading but which don’t make great daily companions, you know?) Maggie is a thoroughly sympathetic main character, and while I wish there had been more consequences for her one major deception, it’s hard to be too hard on a girl who finds out, after picking out a puppy, that she’s allergic to animals with fur or feathers. (The poor thing wanted to be a vet.) As she learns to deal with her allergies, Maggie also learns how to deal with life shifts and friend struggles, and isn’t that the primary job (in many ways) of Allergic‘s intended audience?

I’ll let you know, but I’m hoping my girlie will love this one!

Here I am again, folks. I’ve survived orientations and walkthroughs and parties and yard cleanup and laundry, and now tomorrow–TOMORROW!–is the first day of school. And not just any first day of school, but the first day of the school year in which my youngest starts FIRST GRADE.

As in, I’ll be home alone all day. (All school day, that is.)

You should see the list of things I’m hoping to do tomorrow.

That, however, is tomorrow. Tonight I’m finally reviewing Patricia MacLachlan’s Dream Within a Dream, which I finished days ago. It’s no secret that I love MacLachlan’s books, of course, and Dream was a lovely little read; Louisa and her brother are staying with their grandparents for the summer while their parents do their usual summertime traveling-for-their-careers. That’s nothing new, as far as it goes, but this summer their grandfather’s eyesight is failing–AND Louisa meets George. Dream is a story of family and friends and love in its many forms, old and new; the island setting particularly appealed to me, and while its almost-fairytale quality was unexpected, you have only to look at the title to realize that nothing about the book is unintentional.

I’ll be interested to know exactly what my turning-12-on-Tuesday-year-old thinks of it.

In the meantime, I’ll be tucking in my junior high and high school students now. Tomorrow morning is going to feel appallingly early!

So.

I never meant to bail for three weeks, folks. It’s just that we’ve been trying to rearrange bedrooms at our house, plus get ready for school which starts in a week, plus spend time with visiting family, plus do swimming lessons, and this is what fell by the wayside. I’m not going to promise a back-to-normal yet, either–we’re still working on the bedrooms, we’re not done with new school orientations yet (what with the oldest starting high school and the second oldest starting junior high), we have friends we haven’t yet done anything with this summer, a birthday dinner to make and have, birthday ear piercing to schedule…so many things. (At least, yesterday, we crossed pick up glasses, get the littles haircuts, and high school orientation off of my mental list.) I’m just going to warn you that posts are likely to be spotty for a bit, because ALL THE THINGS. We’ve been going through stuff in the kids’ bedrooms and have donated or passed on several boxes of things–extra purses, toddler puzzles, etc.–but the project goes on. It’s not that I literally have no time to post (I’m more honest with myself that that), but the mental energy? Not so much.

Anyway.

That being said, I finished a book this week that’s been on my shelf for a disturbingly long time, and it pleases me inordinately that I get to review I Lived on Butterfly Hill tonight. (Of course, I meant to do it earlier, which would have resulted in a much more impressive review, but I’m trying!) My friend Andrea recommended Butterfly Hill to me because she knew it would press all my buttons–historical fiction? displaced girl finds refuge on the coast of Maine? strong family ties? Sign me up! I enjoyed it, too. Marjorie Agosin’s tale of a Chilean girl sent to live with her aunt in Maine after a military coup in her country is a thought-provoking look at exile. Celeste’s grandmother is an Austrian Jew who escaped to Chile during the war, and when Celeste’s parents go into hiding and Celeste herself leaves Chile for a time, we can’t help but feel the parallels. I did find occasional weaknesses in the writing that likely stem from being translated from Spanish to English–there are always bits in translated works that don’t make the transition as well as I want them to–but the truly odd thing for me was the contrast between the text and the illustrations. This is a serious, heartfelt story–sometimes a mystical one–and yet the illustrations were whimsical. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy them, but they didn’t fit the tone of the book itself. Those things aside, however, this is a book worth reading. (Except that now I just miss Maine.) Let me know what YOU think!

Seriously, though. My hubby’s work does Lagoon Day every year–Lagoon being Utah’s amusement park–and it’s an impressively good deal, especially since it comes with a lunch; unfortunately, instead of being in June, when it usually is, it was this past Saturday.

My birthday.

Have I mentioned that I don’t love Lagoon? I hate heat and sun more with each passing year, and my feet hate standing in line. The kiddos love it, though, and some of their favorite cousins have season passes, so to Lagoon we went, with a few friends in tow to add to the cousin mix. Luckily, my sister-in-law offered to stay with the older kids after my youngest was done, and so I escaped the heat a little early–bless her, bless her, bless her. I had my birthday cake the next day, and all was well.
Having been out in the heat for hours, however, my brain was too fried (melted? baked? broiled?) to post, and so here I am on the 19th instead. Sorry not sorry?

Anyway. This month one of the book clubs I’m in read Randy Pausch’s The Last Lecture, and I have to say, I really enjoyed it. I was expecting something more self help-y; instead, it’s more of a memoir with leanings toward being business-y. Pausch had interesting things to say and didn’t take three times the pages to say them in than was necessary, which I sincerely appreciated. I found it interesting as a parent, a wife, an erstwhile student, and a human being, and I’d recommend it to any or all of the same.

And apparently that’s all I have to say about that. Have a good night all!

I’ve written about Kate DiCamillo and her different kinds of books before–how she’s always a beautiful writer, but her books can trend either toward a fabulous story or an odd philosophical flight, at least in my opinion. After reading Raymie Nightingale and Louisiana’s Way Home, the two books preceding Beverly, Right Here, I was excited to read Beverly; I particularly loved Louisiana’s Way Home, and I was hoping for another story in the same vein. I was worried, then, when Beverly seemed to be trending towards the philosophical end of the spectrum. As the book progressed, however, the story stepped more fully into the spotlight, and I laughed out loud more than once during the last quarter of it. (I need to talk with someone else who’s just read it, so I can quote “Is that a whiffle bat?” and giggle.) There is pain here–DiCamillo doesn’t shy away from writing about pain–but it’s balanced nicely by a few truly lovable characters (and at least one that’s delightfully unlovable.) Beverly’s journey is a different one from Raymie’s and Lousiana’s–she’s coming from a different place, after all–but it’s possibly even more moving. If you’re ambivalent at first, stick with Beverly.

I promise you’ll love the ending.

I finished reading Gloria Whelan’s Burying the Sun aloud to my second girlie last night, and I’m STILL blown away by how little I knew about the siege of Leningrad before this month. How could I not know the basic facts? I’ve been fascinated by WWII history for decades–how could there be such a huge gap in my knowledge? I found myself almost pitying Josef Stalin, and that’s saying something. (Not to mention that the German attitude toward the siege makes Hitler looks even worse, and I wasn’t aware THAT was even possible.)

Anyway.

For those of you who share my (until now) ignorance, the siege of Leningrad was BAD. (Google it–your heart will break for the Russians.) Gloria Whelan, however, does a solid job of writing about it for middle grade readers, and those who have read The Impossible Journey will be pleased to see Georgi get his own book. I might have balked at reading this one to my second child had I known more of the history–she doesn’t like books about war OR sad books–but she was undeniably hooked, and she laughed out loud more than once during the bits of comic relief. (The scene with Georgi and the manure particularly!) This is a piece of history that our children ought to know, especially in regard to our sometimes difficult relationship with Russia. Props to Gloria Whelan for daring to set a piece of juvenile fiction amid such tragedy.

I did miss Friday, I know, but I drove up to Clinton to see my niece compete in the last, live round of Clinton City’s “The Voice”, and she won for her age group! She was fantastic, too. And tonight, rather than review the two books I was thinking of reviewing earlier, I’ve promised to review Twins, by Varian Johnson and Shannon Wright. (Because when my almost-12-year-old sees me reading a graphic novel that I’m going to pass on to her, I get no peace until I get on with the passing on.) I finished it 10 minutes ago (or so), and I have to say–I really enjoyed it. The sibling relationship felt authentic–not surprising, given Johnson is a twin himself–and the plot was the “figuring out middle school and all of its changes” kind with a twin twist. To be honest, I’m not sure you can ever have enough of those if they’re done well–kids need to be able to find a few that speak to them and help them through it, and the more there are to choose from, the better their options are. I’m expecting my second girlie to love this one, and my first girlie, while she’s older than the target audience, to still enjoy it. Off to them it goes–and off to the shower I go. Goodnight all!

Clearly I missed a couple of days.

The cool thing, though, was what I didn’t miss, so here goes! I brought the kiddos up to Clearfield by dinnertime on Friday the 2nd; my sister-in-law and her two boys arrived after dinner, and we commenced with games and more games and–after my youngest was in bed, poor lamb–Nielsen’s Frozen Custard. The next morning my youngest two children woke up cruelly early, but on the other hand, I needed to get up to make my son’s birthday breakfast regardless. After eating we got ready and headed for Clearfield’s 4th of July (on the 3rd) parade, which I would have skipped (I HATE THE SUN!!) except that two nieces and a nephew from two different families were in it, plus a brother-in-law, who plays in his city band. My husband came up before lunchtime, and then I went shopping with my older girls and a sister-in-law and then my mother-in-law took my son birthday shopping–and then there was a BBQ.

Plus birthday cake, of course. Angel food cake with strawberries and whipped cream…

From there my older girls went off with a cousin to a concert and fireworks, and my hubby took my son to fireworks with family, and I stayed with my sleeping youngest and did the things I needed to do. The next morning was a little rough–my in-laws have church at 9 versus our 10:30–but we managed, and we had a nice day with family plus an early dinner and more birthday cake. (For my mother-in-law and me, this time.) We were originally planning on our whole family going home Sunday evening, but my band-brother-in-law was performing at 7:30 and another niece was in the next morning’s parade, not to mention another brother-in-law and a nephew’s barbershop group was singing at a flag ceremony before the parade started. My hubby ended up taking the littles home (they needed sleep desperately!) while I stayed another night and went to hear the barbershop group in the morning. (I let my older girls do the parade without me. Aunt fail.) That was the 5th, of course, and I was way more worried about getting people to BED than posting, not to mention that we hit Cherry Hill water park yesterday (after I picked up our library holds.) It’s been quite the weekend–busy, but family really is the best. Hence, I missed some days–and now I’m too tired for a book review. I’ll just have to catch you on Friday!

Once again, I’ve finished a nonfiction graphic novel and am perversely annoyed at that term. Does anybody out there know a better one? Because a “novel”, by definition, is fiction, and yet…

Anyway.

However frustrating it may be to classify, Astronauts: Women on the Final Frontier is a fascinating read. I knew very little about the topic going in (other than Judith Resnick’s name, because she was on the Challenger and I read that Erin Entrada Kelly book relatively recently), which meant that the entire book transported me to a different time and place–which is, of course, what a good book should do. Everyone really ought to read this piece of history.

Like Forrest Gump, that’s all I have to say about that. In other news, yesterday was an incredibly long day–it started at 4:45 am with my 2nd girlie’s first time going to one of our temples, continued for me with a funeral, and ended with an hour of water aerobics–and I haven’t yet recovered enough sleep to blog more than the facts with any coherency. Have a lovely day!