Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

The Armistice that ended the Great War was signed 100 years ago today.

Veterans–of all conflicts–I honor you.

When my friend Britt picked Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone for our book club in September, I knew that it was a mystery, that it was Victorian (or thereabouts)–and that’s pretty much it.  (I had NO IDEA how long it was.)  She discovered it on audio–not through Libby–and listened to it herself; because technology is not so much my friend (but she is!), she searched around until she figured out how to put RBDigital on my phone, whereupon I made the most of the opportunity and listened to it as well.  (As if you couldn’t tell that I’d been listening to Victorian literature from THAT sentence.)  And wow.

Seriously, folks.  It was funny!  Funny as in, say, Jane Austen, only with mysterious lurking Indians (of the Eastern variety) instead of snobby sisters.  Funnier, really.  I’m desperately glad that I listened to it, both because I wouldn’t have got around to the hard copy any time soon AND because the narrators were incredible.  The mystery of the diamond got a bit far-fetched in a few spots, but it was the late 1800s–I wasn’t worried about it.  Mostly, I just smiled and chuckled and shook my head in amazement at how much I was enjoying myself in the listening.  Do yourself a favor–find the audiobook and experience it for yourself!

I’ve been on a new recipe kick, which my children are probably getting sick of, and when our corner grocery store had rump roasts on sale, I searched my Pinterest board and decided to give this Slow-Cooked Rump Roast a try.  I didn’t have horseradish sauce, so I had to find a recipe for it online and make my own, but other than that, it was simple to throw together–and I ended up LOVING the flavor.  My oldest was a fan, too, interestingly enough.  My son was on a grouchy kick, so his disapproval may or may not have been based on the food itself, and my second girlie was unlikely to love it, so no surprise there.  My youngest has been so grumpy by dinnertime lately that who knows what she actually thinks of the food, but my hubby liked the meat.  (He wasn’t so much a fan of the sauce over the veggies, but ‘tangy’ is not actually a flavor profile that generally works for him.)  My carpool friend tried it today, and she enjoyed it, so there you have it.  If this sounds good to you, or if tangy works for you in general, you should definitely try this one.  (It doesn’t taste specifically of horseradish so much as there’s a general burst of flavor, if that worries you.)  Let me know what you think!

My kiddos–especially my son–have enjoyed several of Aaron Reynolds’ picture books; they also enjoy graphic novels enough that it seemed only sensible to check his Caveboy Dave:  More Scrawny Than Brawny out of the library to preview for them.  I finished it a few days ago, and while it was funny–and often clever–I’m returning it to the library instead of passing it on to them.  If they find it on their own, they’re welcome to it, you understand.  The poo humor was just a little heavier than I prefer, and while it wasn’t inane and was part of the story overall, I’m just not a fan of it.

Really, it’s a pity, because there’s good story here, story with a more in-depth message than its intended audience is necessarily going to recognize.  Even now, I’m on the cusp–should I just give it to them?–but the books I provide for them are either books I’m essentially recommending or books they’ve specifically requested.  Until Caveboy Dave comes under the latter category, life is too short (and our library cards too crowded!) to choose it, specifically, to represent my recommendations.  If butt and poo humor doesn’t bother you quite as much as it does me, however–OR if you have a reluctant reader and just want to get him or her reading–I do recommend this one.  And if that feels a little mixed up, what can I say?  It does to me, too.

You recall that I drove my kiddos (plus one nephew!) to Idaho for fall break, to visit family?  Well, a few nights before we left I ran to the library to grab a book for my oldest (she’d checked it out of the school library, was almost finished with it, and had accidentally left it at school the day before it was due; when I realized that our nearest library had a copy available, I left her and her sisters and took my son with me to pick it up).  While there it occurred to me that since I’d been considering trying a book on CD for the drive, why not take advantage of my unexpected jaunt and do some browsing?  I came up with two options (I was limited, of course, to what was actually on the shelf); one was a book that I had checked out on my card and I thought might be nice to listen to, and the other was by Andrew Clements.  I’d never read anything by him, but I knew who he was; everything I knew suggested that he’d be well suited to the ages and genders I was going to have in the car with me.  I therefore checked out The Last Holiday Concert on 3 CDs, retrieved my 6-year-old from the Lego table, and headed home.  We left for our trip a few days later, and the rest, my friends, is history.

First of all, I’m a sucker for teacher/student success stories–and for the arts.  (AND for Christmas music.)  Throw in a good bit of humor, the poignancy of job loss, and some life lessons learned by all, and what’s not to love?  My 6-year-old fell asleep after lunch and his attention drifted when he woke up, but my older girls and my nephew listened and enjoyed–as did I.  I’ve never had a drive feel so short!  It was seriously a thing of beauty, and Clements was a delightful mix of humor and the feels, and guess who’s going to be looking for another few books by him the next time we’ve got a road trip planned?  In the meantime, this is the perfect book for you and your elementary schooler(s) to read between now and Christmas.  And Hanukkah.  And–you get the idea.  Grab it and read it now!

Sometimes they’re a little skewed, right?  And sometimes they give off the wrong vibe–occasionally an entirely different vibe than the book itself.

Sometimes, on the other hand, they’re just plain wrong.  Whoever wrote the blurb on the back of Britt’s ARC of Susan Wiggs’ Family Tree had either an earlier draft of the plot or a lamentable tendency to mix up plot points at random.  Yes, the main character was in an accident that put her in a coma for a year, and yes, upon waking she returned to her family’s farm in her small Vermont hometown; yes, she reconnects with her high school boyfriend.  What happens next, however, is a bit different.  That being said, here (in no particular order!) are my impressions of the book.

1.  Oh, New England.  The setting was a big part of why I read the book in the first place, and Wiggs treats it like a major character.
2.  At least, a romanticized view of it.  None of the characters seem to be actually hurting for money, even the ones who are ‘scraping by.’
3.  The back and forth of the love story was wearing thin by the end.
4.  The descriptions of family life, family meals, and family time together were lyrical.
5.  The story grabbed my attention, which is why I could get past occasional bits like, “The weekend turned into a rampant sex fest.”
6.  Modern fiction never really acknowledges the sacrifices you make pursuing a career and a family.  Distance and place are presented as the major obstacles in Annie and Fletcher’s relationship, but the fact is, you really can’t have it all.  There aren’t enough hours in the day.
7.  Who doesn’t love an eminently despicable ex?
8.  This was fun, escapist fiction, and I’m likely to try another book by Susan Wiggs when I’m in the mood for same.

Cleopatra, Luigi, a kitty/purple monster, and a blonde, blue-eyed Asian princess are tucked into bed, while their treat buckets upstairs bulge with sugar.  I hope everyone’s night was safe and happy!

And NOW for the book I finished the night before we left for Idaho (that would be Wednesday the 17th!)–Eva Ibbotson’s A Countess Below Stairs.  (It’s lately been published as The Secret Countess, but I far prefer the original title.)  I own this one, but in the interest of actually reading it sometime this decade I opted to listen to it on my phone instead.  (There were a few terms in the book that were different on the audio; my copy of the book was published in the U.S., and clearly Penguin was worried that a few of the most European terms wouldn’t convey the same meaning to American audiences.)  I thoroughly enjoyed it, too, although the build-up to the climax was not a short one.  Ibbotson’s YF (YA?) titles don’t have the same kind of Roald Dahl comedy that her middle grades do, but they retain a beautiful dry wit and an inclusion of (and appreciation of) the absurd.  Countess also had the kind of dramatic love that feels so relatable to the YA crowd, but the setting and length of the novel made it far more believable to my 39-year-old self.  (Believable is relative, of course; it’s still more fairy tale than realistic fiction.)  The supporting characters are an impressive asset to a story that offers a perfect escape from everyday life; if you love historical fiction, love stories, or understated British dramadies, don’t miss this one!

My friend Britt recommended (and lent!) Blackbird Fly to me, and it’s been sitting on my shelf for a couple of years.  When Erin Entrada Kelly won the Newbery Medal for Hello, Universe, I didn’t realize until Britt pointed it out that she was also the author of Blackbird Fly; still I procrastinated, because I’m generally extremely frustrated by protagonists who are suppressing much of who they are in order to stay friends with people who clearly aren’t worth being friends with in the first place.  Kelly, however, managed to take such a plot, give it an understandable backstory, and make it, well–amazing.

Seriously.  I loved this book, and I didn’t expect to, because the very beginning was agonizing to read.  In the hands of an exceptional author, however, Apple became a person I could understand, a person I wanted to befriend, and a person I was wholeheartedly rooting for.  Her journey to self-realization drew me in, and watching her develop real friendships was a delight.  I loved the musical aspect of her story as well–really, I just loved the book.  (Have I mentioned that?)  If the plot summary for this book doesn’t necessarily make you jump for joy, well, read it anyway.  (And then give it to your middle schoolers.)  Me?  Well, I have two more of Kelly’s books in my house, and both of them just shot way up on my to-read list!

The kids and I spent our fall break in Idaho, coming home on Monday to a whirlwind of laundry, unpacking, jam, applesauce, and general insanity.  We’re back, though, and we loved spending the time with family; we even got to give my 7-year-old nephew a lift to visit his Idaho grandparents, which was icing on the cake.  (Seriously.  He was GREAT in the car!)  Despite the vomit–which I discovered in my still-mostly-sleeping son’s bed at midnight when we were due to drive back to Utah in 9 hours or so–it was a pretty great trip, with yummy food, beautiful trees, and lots of cousin time for my kiddos.  We got to see my niece and nephew’s Primary program on Sunday, and the Lord answered my very specific trip-related prayers perfectly.  (No vomit on Wednesday to keep us home, no vomit in the car, and no traumatic sickness on the trip.  My son barely seemed to register throwing up; he was mostly enraged that I wouldn’t let him gorge himself on warm cinnamon rolls 8 hours later!)  After last fall’s trip-of-grumpiness, that blessing cannot be overestimated, believe me.  My family fed us and played with us and loved us all.  You can’t ask for a better trip than that!

Incidentally, I finished one book the night before we left for Idaho, and I’ve been planning all along to review that one tonight.  It’ll have to wait until Saturday, however, because I’ve been reading Laurel Snyder’s Penny Dreadful to my two older girls for weeks–more like months, really–and we finished it less than an hour ago, after a marathon reading session before bedtime.  My oldest gave it 3 stars–it’s less her kind of book, and she was mad that the ending didn’t resolve the vague tangential mystery–and her sister gave it 4.  I’d probably go with 4.5, because I thought it was delightful–whimsical and unexpected, with an emphasis on friendship and initial impressions that can only be good for its intended audience.  The illustrations gave off a slightly different vibe than the text (my oldest agreed), which was odd, but they were charming, and Penny’s journey from bored, lonely city monotony to life in the country with real friends for the first time is punctuated with a subtle humor that I appreciated far more than I would have thirty years ago.  If you’re looking for a well-written tale of imagination and friendship, look no further.