Bits, Bobs and Books!

The absence of reviews on this blog might lead you to believe that I am NOT reading. Tsk, tsk, tsk. How could you think such a thing?

Among all the other bits and bobs of my life, books are a constant. It is true that I can go a full day without opening a book but then the shakes set in. So here is what I have been reading.

Patricia Wentworth's Miss Silver series! If you are fan of British mystery writers who penned their stories in the late twenties through the early 60s, you might enjoy this series. Miss Silver spent most of her working life as a governess before she became a private detective.  She has such a comforting, yet authoritative, manner that people tell her all sorts of revealing things. 

Wentworth adds a lot of fashion and society details to help define her characters. Readers visit country manors and town homes of upper society. I have only read four of the 32 novels but I suspect Miss Silver deals with middle and lower class suspects and victims as well.  THIRTY TWO NOVELS. 

The mysteries can be a bit histrionic. There is always romance involved. And Miss Silver's powers of deduction can appear miraculous. Read this series for the ambience, the puzzles and the relationships of young people who use repartee to cleverly dance around their feelings.

A Wish in the Dark by Christina Soontornvat. In an alternate Thailand, Pong is an orphan born in prison. When he turns 13, the tattoo that identifies him as a prisoner will be changed so that he can join society in the city. Pong, like everyone in the city, idolizes the Governor. After the Great Fire that destroyed everything years ago, the Governor arrived and with his gift of Light, he restored the City and outlawed fire. But when the Governor visits Pong's prison, everything changes for Pong, his best friend Somkit and the warden's daughter, Nok.

The jacket flap compares this book to Les Miserables. Pong escapes the prison and Nok is obsessed with finding him. She follows him to a mountain monastery and then into the city slums, uncovering secrets of her own family and of the Governor, himself.  LOVED THIS BOOK. The Governor's magical power, the old monk that helps Pong, Somkit's inventions, and Soontornvat's writing add up to a lovely adventure.

The One and Only Bob by Katherine Applegate. YAY! Bob, the stray dog, gets his own book. The story of how a dog who claims to be all about "numero uno" becomes a HUGE hero and reunites with characters he lost long ago is charming, a quick read, and continues the story of Ivan, the gorilla, and Ruby, the elephant calf from The One and Only Ivan. I see a pattern emerging. Let's see if I'm right. The One and Only Ruby may be next.

Bob lives with George, a zoo keeper, Sara, and their daughter, Julia. Bob loves to visit his best mate, Ivan, and the adorably enthusiastic Ruby at the zoo. When a huge storm hits, Bob must help save his friends and hunt down the familiar bark of one of his litter mates. It's a page turner.

Did I tell you about the graphic novel, Lightfall by Tim Probert? The artwork is lovely!  Beatrice must find Grandfather Pig and she must keep the Fire, (a flame in a glass globe), burning. Something ominous is stirring in the land of Irrpa! Beatrice meets a Galdurian - perhaps the last of his kind - who offers to help her. Because he has survived for hundreds of years, his help can be bit confusing. And, of course, the book ends with a cliff hanger. It's awesome.

The Bits and Bobs of this post's title refers to all the things I do to keep myself sane in these trying times. Here is a list:

1. Computer games. I downloaded an Advent Calendar from an online greeting card company. As I wait for December 1st, I play the games collected in the "living room" of the calendar. I WASTE SO MUCH TIME playing these games but, hey! I am not a fan of housework and I can't go many places.

2. Crochet. Crochet. crochet. and more crochet.

3. Poetry. I don't write as much as I'd like but I have been writing more during this time of solitude.

4. Walks. I should take one NOW. I especially like walking with my nonagenarian mother. I am so lucky to still have her in my life.

5. Storytelling! WOW! Here is a link to my latest venture with members of Patchwork, the Storytelling Guild. (Scroll down to the video.) This was our show for Tellabration, the International Weekend Celebration of Storytelling. I am the last teller of the performance. There are so many great stories here.

6. Planning Holiday events for my worship community - well, one event. I am planning a Zoom carol sing on December 6th. This may be a recipe for disaster because Zoom is not made for group singing or recitation. A carol sing is spontaneous and Zoom is not designed for spontaneity either. There are a lot of details to work out. I don't have an accompanist who can jump in and play any carol. WHAT AM I THINKING??? Pray for me, and for the intrepid singers.  

Luckily, the Christmas Eve Meeting (planned by other Friends) is NOT spontaneous and the music will be carefully recorded and presented. 

7. Watching TV shows from France and Italy. My husband "owns" the TV and he found a streaming service that offers TV shows from around the world. It's hard to crochet and watch these shows, since we have to read the subtitles. But the series that we watch are fun!

8. Music. Listening and singing. My granddaughter asks me if I have to sing a song about everything I do. The answer is, "Doesn't everyone?" 

And here is a lovely video from the One Voice Children's Choir.

Stay safe, friends.

 

Thanksgiving dilemma

 He asked again today. "Are we making a turkey on Tuesday to share with A & L & D when they pick D up after work?"  

Me: (Blank stare)

Him: Or, what?

Me: (Frowny face and helpless shrug)

Him: Should I get a small turkey at the store?

Me: Uh, um, I don't know.

Him: What are we doing for Thanksgiving?

Me: (Drops head to the table.)

My latest coping strategy is to wait until it is too late to do anything and do nothing. That can NOT happen with Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is our favorite holiday. We open the house to our son, our daughter-in law, our granddaughter and our daughter-in-law's family and to my mother and sometimes to one or more of my siblings. Dinner is followed by a walk and card games, silliness and chatter - and football on TV.  It is a day to just be together.  Also, FOOD!!!

When family can't attend (last year, they planned to be out of the country) we invite friends. No matter who we host, it is always the same. Food, conversation, laughter, football, games.

Um, not this year. 

I already texted the usual suspects and cancelled a large gathering.  However, I can't let go of the idea of pies and roasted Fall veggies and stuffing.  Should I bake pies and drop them off, masked and socially distant - set them on the doorstep, ring the bell and run away?  I can easily peel and slice enough vegetables for all of us and deliver them on Wednesday.

Should we take a chance and invite my son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter to a short celebration? We see them twice a week anyway. (We see the parents for five to fifteen minutes at a time. And D for the afternoon. That doesn't count as "residing" with them, I guess.)

WHAT SHOULD WE DO??? I. DON'T. KNOW.

Kim and Penn Holderness made their decision to stay home. And then they made a video about it. Check out that Grammy's dance moves. 

I have a lot to be thankful for, anxiety aside. So far, my closest circle is COVID-19 free. I have a roof, the Internet, a sister who works at a yarn store if I run out of yarn (!!!), books, enough money, lots of food, a nice husband. What else could I need?

I need hugs, lots of hugs, to and from everyone I love. So, I WILL bake pies and peel veggies. I will fill those pies with hugs and drop them off with the ones I love. We will Zoom or Skype or Facetime our meal and NEXT YEAR we will all be together.

Stay safe, everyone.  Happy Thanksgiving.

 

WAITING!!!

I. AM. SO. TIRED. OF. WAITING. How about you? It's funny how, even though we have spent several months holding our breath, the world continues in its rounds, undisturbed.

Today the wind is brisk, the sky is crystal blue. The air is tinted with cold. My sweatshirt is not warm enough. We waited for the end of the summer's heat and, whoops, it is really and truly gone. Today, a walk will feel bracing and even a bit exciting. Hold on to your hats and your children. This wind might steal them away.

The leaves parade down the center of the street, a colorful substitute for the parades that we had to cancel this season. Trees that held tight to their dying leaves so far will have to give them up. Get our your rakes. Leaf peeping and raking and jumping time is here.

Tomorrow is a biggie and although Election Day will come and go, the waiting won't end in 24 hours. No, we will have to "wait and see" if a transition will happen and how it will all turn out.

2020 turned into the Year of Waiting - waiting for a cure for COVUD-19, waiting for a return to sanity, waiting for people to learn to get along - while keeping their distance,  - waiting for peace, justice and "the American way" or what we hope the "American way" is. 

While we wait, let's take the time:

 to reach out to our loved ones, 

help a neighbor bring in her recycling bins, 

smile with our eyes since our mouths are hidden,

write an email to a friend,

thank the postal workers for struggling on,

take some food to the food bank,

give a warm coat to a shelter,

bake a loaf of bread,

have a cup of tea,

and give thanks that we have things in our lives worth waiting for.

 

Scraps and other blessings

 Think of all the things that are better than their components. 

Soups and stews are more than a bit of this and that. 

We prize quilts stitched from left over pieces.

Choirs sound lavish and deep when individual voices may be just a bit thin.

Last night, I made a new rule for myself. Before I can sleep I must write something that I made up. Journal notes on the day don't count.  Once I made that rule I wrote down the word "soup". Here is what followed.

Soup gathers together the scraps and the drippings

And warms them and stirs them and turns them to gold.

And soup made of gold can build up your spirit

And wrap you in sunshine to keep out the cold.

A life made of gathers of other one's leavings

Might seem like a poor life or one filled with tears

But a quilt made of tatters is warm in the winter.

A house patched with love can last many years.

So do not discard the riches life gives you

Just because those gifts do not match your desire.

Patch sadness with love and worry with laughter.

Add your small voice to the galactic choir.

                                                            Karen Maurer, 10/26/2020

Go well, friends. I have missed you.

Confession

I killed a cricket. It was an accident, I swear!!

You see it happened like this.

A cricket got into the small room where I hoard my craft supplies. 

Now, it's easy to tell if a cricket is inside or outside. Outside crickets sound gentle, like water in a stream or waves on a shore - except much higher pitched. 

Inside crickets sound like alarms or a high creaking call of HELP! HELP! HELPHELPHELP! or some other very urgent noise.

HOWEVER, if the cricket is right outside an open window, one might mistake it for a cricket inside the house.

So I decided to close the craft room window - just in case the cricket was really outside,

Which knocked over a large potted amaryllis...And that spilled dirt all over the floor and the shelf below the window...and the stool next to the shelf that held a tool box...and the box on the floor full of craft supplies...and the plastic jar of marbles also fell.

The cricket shut up.

 I cleaned up.

The next night, I heard the cricket in the dining room, right at the bottom of the stairs.

So I went downstairs to find the poor little fellow, trap him under a cup or something and return him to the wild.

When I turned on the light, the cricket stopped chirping. I got a flashlight.

That little bug sounded like he was right under my feet but I could not see him at all. So I moved chairs, a bench, the pretty painted box I keep under the bench.

Bill came along to see what was up and we turned on the light and there - lying splayed on the floor -  was a sad dead cricket.

I have heard that a cricket on the hearth is GOOD luck. I have heard that crickets' chirps foretell rain or a change in the weather or tell us the temperature.

Now, I worry that this cricket has a mate somewhere in my house who will chew holes in all my stockings and socks.

Or even worse, that someone I love will meet an early demise.

Luckily, it was NOT a Sunday. Killing a cricket in your house is bad luck but it is REALLY bad luck if you kill a cricket on a Sunday.

But, it was an accident. I didn't know the poor little bug was there. He probably (it was a guy because according to the Internet, only guy crickets chirp.) fell off the box and I dropped the box on him.  

Since I killed this poor tunesmith, I feel unsettled, anxious, even unworthy - as if I cursed myself by being careless with one of my fellow earthlings. 

How do I regain my equilibrium? I can't replace a cricket.

There are a hundred thousand crickets outside our house. All singing or munching or mating or hopping. Why should I feel bad about the one cricket life that I snuffed out by being a big clumsy human?

There are millions of trees in this country. And millions of them are on fire. Hey! It was an accident. it is always an accident.

There are billions of people in this world. 900,000 have died from a novel virus. No one wanted them to die. No one got them sick on purpose. 

Does it make sense to draw a parallel between my accidental killing of a bug to the death of hundreds of thousands of people? Probably not.

Yet, if I had been a little more careful, less clumsy, the crickets outside would have one more singer.

If we took better care of our earth, the conditions in the West might not be so ripe for fire. 

If... well, if we had paid attention five months ago, perhaps some of those dead people would be with us today.

I killed a cricket. Forgive me. 

WHY Would You Say That?

President Certainpersonio (I stole that name from Charles Dickens) continues to fill the airwaves with "diverting" comments.  Don't ask what these comments are - check your favorite news site, unless it is Fox. What we might ask is "why?" And that is the theme of today's post.

Honestly, why do we say half the things we say?  Since we have been confined to our quarters, I have discovered that I speak without rhyme or reason much of the time. I am a talker. I am not alone. Still, a lot of what I say does not need to be said.

Some of these comments are observations on life. My audience of one has heard them all many times before so what purpose can repeating them have?

Then there are the times when I interrupt a conversation because
a) a grammar mistake has been made
b) I heard a mispronunciation
c) I am sure I know more about the subject than the speaker does
d) that reminds me of a story that has nothing to do with the conversation at hand
e) I have no interest in the subject
f) I don't agree with the ideas expressed
g) I want to change the subject altogether
i) I take the subject personally and it pisses me off

Yep. I inflict all of these tortures on my husband who is confined with me. He deserves your sympathy.

We ALL do that. We do it ALL the time. Most of us want to be the Talker in Chief. In normal conversation, where the discussion is really a way to socialize and connect, these practices are annoying if overdone but they are pretty harmless.

HOWEVER, when we want to instruct or talk about important actions or ideas, or even discuss our feelings, these habits can be used for all kinds of reasons.

We grab a tangential idea in order to take control of the conversation.

We correct the speaker as a way to undermine his or her authority.

We want to distract from events or behaviors to protect our own standing or to protect others from the repercussions of their behavior.

We want to sabotage the purpose of the conversation - coming to an agreement, for example, or moving forward with a policy.

We want to turn the tables, especially when our behavior has been below par.

We hope that nothing gets decided so we don't have more work to do.

I could go on and on and on and on...

You and I can not control what all the Certainpersonios in the world say.  We can keep a watch on our own tongues.  Before we enter the fray, or throw something into the conversational pile, we should probably ask ourselves why.

 When a discussion becomes emotional, then we really have to consider our comments.

People can not un-hear things once we say them.  Consider why before you speak. You could save yourself untold grief.

Don't be a Certainpersonio!

Words to Avoid When Reviewing Books - M-Z

I am feeling judge-y these days and have already embarrassed myself with late night scolding texts to a young friend - why am I even telling you this? Confession is good for the soul!!??

So I will be judgmental with words.

The final installment of over-used or unnecessary positive adjectives.

M
magical - (Bonk, bonk, bonk - head bonking)
magnificent - I actually like this word but the subject needs to be larger than life to make this adjective fit.
memorable
momentous - Quotes are momentous; events are momentous, It is a very rare book that is momentous;  - "Origin of Species" might be one.
mystical

N
nice - Nice is a nice word and is great for every day conversation. But books do not want to be called "nice", anymore than your blind date does.
nefarious - Just don't use this word unless you use it tongue in cheek. It's not even a positive adjective.
nutty- One person's "nutty" is another person's annoyingly frantic.

O
overwhelming - I have never seen this word used in a review but I can imagine how someone might think it is a compliment.  In pandemic times, we need less overwhelming-ness, all around.
O is not the best letter for compliments. I must resist the urge to type in any "O" adjective that comes to mind - olfactory? old-fashioned?
obvious   DON'T call a book obvious without just cause - obviously.


P
perky - Unless the book is running for Junior Miss or Mister, skip this adjective.
pretty - No, no, no, no...
popular - See "perky"



Q
quintessential - It rolls off the tongue, right? Don't use it.
quixotic - I always use this incorrectly. Its main meaning is "wildly idealistic". A secondary meaning is "capricious". The root of the word is the foolishly idealistic character, Don Quixote. BUT I always think of quicksilver or mercury, hence hard to pin down. Words are amazing.

Q words are few. That's why the letter gets ten points in Scrabble. (I get points every time I work Scrabble into a post.) (Not really.) (But I do love that game.)

R
rip roaring - Please, just don't
rootin' tootin' - Even dropping the apostrophes and putting back the "g"s will not make this combo acceptable
righteous - This word's time has passed.

S
So very many "s" words!
startling It's a new favorite. Think carefully before using it.
scary? Hmm, sometimes "scary" is all one can say.

A lot of "s" adjectives sound like they belong in a reference letter that you might write for a former student or an old co-worker. Are you reviewing the book or recommending it for a position? You decide.

T
terrific
tremendous
tree-mendous - I am not a big fan of puns.

U
unusual -  Calling something unusual is not helpful.


V
valuable 
victorious - I have seen this! Is the book a new word spewing champion?


W
warm - Use this as a verb, please. Verbs have more power.
whimsical - How does this word weary me? Let me count the ways.



X
If you find an "x" adjective, use it freely.

Y
youthful - Here is an exception to avoiding this word. If I ever publish a book, please mention the author's "youthful" voice or outlook or approach. I am feeling old these days.
yummy - No, not even for a cook book


Z
zany - See "nutty"

Sunday Selfie - The 9th year - On Top of Everything Else

NOTE:   Hi! I wrote this post awhile back BEFORE being tested for the virus and found negative! YAY! Before my brush with aging eye problems - sigh! and before being able to meet with my very best friends that I am not blood-related to, Suzanne and Doris - separately! Blessings! And life! The world keeps turning.

The 9th Year

For a lot of us, this has already been an awful, awful year.

My husband and I started with a very pleasant cruise from which we brought home some persistent, nasty, head cold with cough. (COVID-19 had not yet raised its ugly head except in far off China.)

That bug lasted five or six weeks and we had just returned to "normal" when the world stopped. In its tracks. We had to remain isolated for the good of the realm.

THEN, just about the time when we began to cautiously consider venturing outside, a policeman murdered a black man and the whole disgusting event was caught on video. The country went into a period of mourning and righteous rage from which we have not emerged.

Many days, when I wake up, I weigh the pros and cons of living.  Five months of waiting for normal have sapped my energy. The lethargy, although understandable and certainly NOT specific to me, still strikes me as overkill, self-indulgent self-pity. I am not judging anyone else here.

And then I realized something.  This is a 9th year for me. It's part of my pattern. 

When I started to keep a journal, I noticed patterns in my behavior.

Pattern #1: Stay away from me in January. That's the month after the six week Thanksgiving to New Year's frantic Holiday Awesome Superstar Competition that a lot of people sign up for, (including me, alas!). I am NOT NICE in January. I also pick fights in January. (Ooh, the first two lines of a "Gaston" parody...I'm not Nice in January, I pick fights in January. Nope. January has too many syllables.)
Since I noticed the "fights in January" pattern, I have reduced those fights to almost none. Push through, I tell myself.

And NO! I haven't moved my fights to February.

This next pattern actually took decades to reveal.
The 9th year is the worst year.  Some people dread turning 30  or 40 or some other age that ends in 0. And that birthday begins a slide of pathetic moaning.
With me it's the year BEFORE I turn a 0 age that is the absolute worst.

I am a soggy, sighing, irritable person in those 0 age approaching years. 39 was the year that opened my eyes. 29 had been bad but I blamed it on recurring miscarriages and my son starting school and other stuff.

Ten years later, I spent so much time moping that my husband actually complained to me about it.  He never complains about me, honestly. He suffers in stoic silence.
Since then, I weathered 49 (ouch) and 59 (meh).

Guess what year I am in now.  Yep. I will soon be 70.

Want to know something? I am almost happy (I can't BE happy in a 9th year.* Sorry. It's my pattern.) that all the above stuff - COVID-19, racial homicide, political worries, a tanking economy, HUGE unemployment rate, and an attack on the good old Post Office - happened in a 9th year.  I was destined to be miserable this year anyway. I am glad  that I did not waste a perfectly good year on all this brouhaha.

I send my condolences to all who have had a good year spoiled with a pandemic, a stumbling  government, the slap in the face of our systemic racism, a suffering economy, and big unemployment numbers. I feel for you. 

At least THIS year, we are all in this together.  When you drag through the days looking for relief, everyone understands.

Welcome to the 9th year.  Just push through.

*This is actually not true. I can be happy in a 9th year. I just need coffee - or good friends - to get there.

Sunday selfie - All the Little Things

On Wednesday morning, I woke and stumbled downstairs and grabbed my coffee. And I noticed something. The air felt comfortable! Not sticky. Not hot. Not muggy. Just fine.

I almost did not notice. So many things are off kilter these days. I still did not know if I had COVID-19 - (I do NOT).  And my eyes have floaters so my vision is off. The news blared from another room, a sound I am learning to hate. I had to stay away from people I love until I got clearance.

So that morning, I was not actually in the mood to notice how nice the air felt. But when I did, I sat down and just enjoyed it. I took a walk. I barely broke a sweat.

Little things can make life bearable. Little things, like comfortable temperatures, and trees, and mini cantaloupes, and sunflowers. We are awash in sunflowers. A walk in the less oppressive summer heat can build up a flagging spirit.

Because I took the time to notice a break in the weather,  I remembered that all trials pass.

The cooler weather is gone now. This morning, I came home from my solitary walk sweaty and hot.
Fall shimmers under the heat.

This time of COVID-19-and muggy heat - will pass.

I pray that I will see all of you on the other side of this craziness. Be kind. Be brave. Stay safe.

Weird Titles that I Have Read

Some books just pop up in my brain and ask, "Do you remember me?"

Some titles do, too.

What We Found in the Sofa and How it Saved the World by Henry Clark.    So there's a rare zucchini crayon in that sofa and a two headed coin. That's all I remember. But the title is emblazoned on my brain.

How I Stole Johnny Depp's Alien Girlfriend by Gary Ghislain.   He's 14 and he thinks she's just another one of his father's psychotherapy patients. But she is NOT. She's an alien and she MUST mate with the most perfect male on our planet, Johnny Depp.  Incredible - as in completely unbelievable - feats of derring-do and physics defying action ensue.  But, once again, if you can't judge a book by its cover, you can certainly get hooked by its title.

Unusual Chickens for the Extraordinary Poultry Farmer Kelly Jones.    I just updated my rating on Goodreads to 4 stars because I actually went back and re-read this book, it's that much fun. Sophie and her parents inherit her great-uncle's farm and Sophie starts getting weird hand typed letters about chickens. One of the chickens is only visible in certain lights. Another chicken has the talons of a hawk.  Chickens with other unusual qualities show up on this run down farm and Sophie must learn to care for them and keep them safe from chicken nappers. 

The Mighty Odds by Amy Ignatow.   So this title is not all THAT unusual but the book is mighty odd. (See what I did? Hoo boy!! Let me catch my breath here.) Four kids are on a bus when it has an accident and all four kids receive "super" powers. Three of the kids are your normal run-of-the-mill slightly outcast-y kids; an artsy sort, a nerd, a social out cast. But the fourth kid is the most popular girl in school. I thought that was a nice touch.
Now those powers?? Well, one of the kids can change eye color. WHOOOOAAAAA! How awesome is that! One kid has super strength in his thumbs.  Yeah! Miss Popularity can read minds BUT only when the thinker is thinking about directions. And one lad can instantly relocate - 4 inches to the left or right, I forget which. It's the first in a trilogy. I think I better put the other two on hold, right now.

I have a dozen or so books that surface from my book brain. I'll be back with more.

LBB Was THERE!

You have questions.     I know.      I had them, too.

Such as;
How did Hoobert seal himself into that box?
Why didn't anyone notice that Hoobert was not in his cell after they removed the box from the cell?
If someone helped Hoobert, how did that someone escape from the prison?
Were sausages involved?

Well, the answer is the same to the first two questions. Little Blue Bunny!

Yes. Little Blue Bunny was Dulcinator the Investigator's secret weapon in rescuing Hoobert Heever from a foreign prison.

I am still collecting details and "fact" checking them. Every time I think I understand, another question pops up and another layer of intrigue is revealed.

Stay tuned.

If only you would answer my questions!!!

StuffyWorld Update: International Intrigue

News Flash! The writer of this blog got a COVID-19 test today because she ran a fever this past weekend. No actual COVIDy symptoms - except for the headache you get when you have a fever. BUT better safe than exposing all your friends and relatives to a deadly virus, right? Enough about that!

Things have been beyond exciting in Stuffy World and Toy Land.  Since we are largely confined to socializing with each other, the granddaughter has become obsessed with gossip. "Gossip!:" she demands. "I need gossip." 

She wants to know about the secret life of our small squooshy friends.

Missy Miss and Jasper in happier days.

Romantic gossip first. Jasper and Missy Miss had a HUGE fight over pizza toppings. No seriously. Jasper Acorn, the squirrel, is vegan. Missy Miss, aka Charlotte Amalia the Chimpanzee, is vegetarian, mostly, but she LOVES pepperoni. So, she wanted to splurge and get half vegan and half pepperoni and dairy cheese.  Jasper got very upset to think animal products may have touched his vegan slice. I think he overreacted but he is passionate about animal rights.

So, they are kaput - for now. More later.

Adventure gossip: Hoobert Heever the Beaver - one of the oldest stuffies (but not the OLDEST by a long shot) decided to get into the International StuffyWorld Book of Records (ISWBR) by traveling around the world faster than any other stuffy.

The judges at ISWBR Publishing insisted that Hoobert visit three landmarks in each country he visited. In London, he went to the Tower of London, the London Eye, and, though the Granddaughter was sure he'd visit Buckingham Palace, instead, he went to Trafalgar Square.

Ready to conquer the world. Notice his Pawsport. (I crack myself up.)

He skipped France and flew to Barcelona, Spain, where he visited the cathedral which is STILL under construction. But before he could visit anything else, he was robbed. Everything, but the Euros he kept in a secret pocket, disappeared - his passport, his identification, credit cards, photos, camera, phone - EVERYTHING.

He had enough money to get a driver to take him to the Policia. But their facial recognition software identified Hoobert as being one Toothsome the Terrible, a notorious international jewel thief. (I have ALWAYS wanted to write about a notorious international jewel thief. Bucket list!!!)

They took a tail print and it was identical to the tail print on record at Toothsome the Terrible's proctologist's office. (This was Gramps' contribution to the story.)

However, it turns out that all the beavers made by Hoobert's toy company have identical tail prints. I discovered that after a couple of phone calls. The granddaughter, whose research skills surpass mine by magical proportions, found out that the tracing technology also embedded in the toys was not invented when Hoobert was made so there was no way we could use that technology to prove Hoobert was NOT Toothsome.  What a conundrum!

About this time, Interpol or Interswpol, explained that scars and nicks make identical tail prints not so identical over the years and that's when they visited the proctologist's office.  (See above.)

We are nothing if not superior investigators and we have Gramps' endless thirst for news to help us. He read about a rash of break ins of different doctor offices where certain records appeared to be tampered with - tail prints of beavers, scale prints of armadillos and the tail and bill prints of platypuses. One of those offices was that of HOOBERT'S doctor.Guess whose tail prints were missing. Hmmm?  Do you give up? Hoobert's tail prints had been inserted in Toothsome's file. Capiche?

Ah HA! we both said, and since we were in the swimming pool when we learned about all of this, we did a quick spin and dunk of discovery!

The officers at Interswpol Barcelona were no help at all in getting Hoobert released. So Dulci called Hoobert on the phone in Hoobert's cell block - (her palm computer is the BEST. Mine is too old to access all the secret schedules and info. It was also wrinkled from being in the water.) and they made a plan.

She Superfast Expressed a large empty box to Hoobert. After making sure it was empty, except for packing material, the guards left it in Hoobert's cell. Hoobert removed all the labels and replaced them with labels found hidden in the packing materials. Then he jumped in and waited for meal time, when the guards found the package and posted it to ME!!!!

I'm glad she marked it "Fragile."

Meanwhile, Interswpol found Hoobert's wallet near a train station in Frankfort, Germany, several days later. All official ID was missing but Hoobert's library card was still there. They questioned Hoobert by SW Skype and when he was able to identify all the books checked out on that card, at a time when Toothsome was KNOWN to be in Europe, Interswpol agreed to revise their records on Toothsome and require a new tail print if he was ever captured again. Hmmm, I wonder if they will ask for our help in catching him.

Who knew that our toys have such interesting lives? Dulcinator the Investigator and Nana so Spry, the Private Eye! That's who knew!

PS. Hoobert still plans on traveling around the world.  Someday.

Walking Under Trees; Summer time

The community center opened up again with limited admittance but I do not plan to return - not yet. Every morning, I get out before 9 am to take a 40 minute walk.

If you live on the East Coast, Eastern PA especially, then you know that 9 am is not early enough. I am so drenched by the time I get home that a shower feels redundant.

I have rediscovered the joy, the luxury, the calm and cool, of walking under trees. This morning I crossed streets three times to take advantage of the deeper shade on the other side. Maples give superior shade. Sycamores are shady, too, but their branches are so high up that sun slants through their leaves. (Never mind, sycamores. I love you for so many other reasons.)

When the temperature drops under a tree, I always think of the scene in "To Kill a Mockingbird" where Scout has to recount what she thinks happened when she and Jem were walking home from the school pageant. Scout had her ham costume on and could only see what was underneath her. But she knew she was under a tree because the ground was cooler there.

Would I know I was in the shade of a tree with my eyes closed? I think I might on these hot summer mornings. I won't try it because the trees with the best shade have the bumpiest sidewalks.

My route takes me into neighborhoods with the most trees and the oldest trees.  I keep moving. Still some shade is so deep that I want to sit with my back against the trunk and dream; or look up into the jungle above me, made of crossing branches and thick green leaves, and wonder.  Or, just breathe in shade-cooled air.

Today, I walked down the island in the center of the street. One side of the street had disappearing sidewalks and intermittent shade. The other side was largely shade-less. Sturdy trees marched down the center of the street and so did I. I know an invitation when I see one.

The trees do invite you to take advantage of their shade. If you are lucky enough to have a tree on your property, sit under it for a spell.

Walk under trees whenever you can. Walk there now for the shade. Walk there in the Fall for the color. In the Winter, look up at the lacy fingers against the sky. In the Spring, celebrate the many greens of fledgling leaves.

Walk. Linger. Breathe.

Popularity Papers!

Back when I worked as a children's librarian, a publicist from Abrams (Jason Wells who is now with Magination Press) sent Amy Ignatow to our library to talk about her new series of books, The Popularity Papers.  The drawings are adorable and the books are funny!

This summer my 8 and 1/2 year old granddaughter discovered these books. She LOVES them. Although the books are about kids getting ready to enter middle school - and then in middle school - let's face it, our 4th graders are already worried about that inevitability. And if we can just dredge up those memories of our own childhoods, we will realize that concerns about popularity and the opposite sex are there all the time. They just aren't at the top of the things kids worry about - yet.

Yesterday, my granddaughter brought me Book 4, The Rocky Road Trip. I have no words to tell you how wonderful, warm, funny and wise that book was. Seriously. I will stop this post right here and just bask in the memories of that road trip to family members who are lovely and to family members who are NOT!  and the Fun Facts, and Bye Bye Miss American Pie and bears and ... ahhhhhhhh.

The family structures are not white picket fence. They reflect the times we live in. 'Nuff said.

I wonder if Amy Ignatow could be persuaded to do a reunion book. Maybe Julie and Roland could, I don't know, get Married and Lydia could be the Maid of Honor and Melody could be the wedding planner. Or is that too Hallmark channel for this series??

If you have a pre-teen, take a look at these books. Read them yourself. Amy Ignatow is a genius.

Be Kind to Monsters!

In Kelley Armstrong’s A Royal Guide to Monster Slaying, Princess Rowan, the oldest of twins, wants more than anything to be the Royal Monster Hunter. But birth order requires her to become Queen. Her younger brother, Rhydd, brave, loyal, thoughtful - and diplomatic -must assume the mantle of Monster Hunter.

Ho hum - mismatched family expectations. Isn’t it always the way? The book breaks with tradition when a tragedy catapults the 12 year old twins into confusion and action. Rowan gets her wish in the most awful way possible.

In order to become the Royal Monster Hunter, Rowan must train with the best hunter in the kingdom. Accompanied by the last Monster Hunter’s tame warg, who barely tolerates Rowan, and soon joined by a baby jackalope, Rowan finds the elusive monster hunter.  He is wounded and his young apprentice turns her away.

Rowan tries to, and fails to, impress the young hunter-in-training. She gets kidnapped. She barely escapes an attack by a pegasus. She and two possible allies fight off giant spiders and collect firebird feathers.

Then, they meet the most horrendous monster of all, the very same monster that forced Rowan and Rhydd to change their futures. A battle of wit and cunning, (Rowan is small for her age and that monster is HUGE), ensues!

Palace intrigue changes the expected outcome of this novel. Unanswered questions foretell future installments.

I am more than ready to read Rowan and Rhydd’s further adventures!!!

Eerie-on-the-Sea might be very pleasant in the summer sun but in the winter…brrrr. Herbert Lemon is the Lost-and-Founder of the Grand Nautilus Hotel and just one of the odd characters that lives there. When a strange girl slips into the window of his basement room, Herbert, age 11 or 12 or 13 or thereabouts, falls into a grand, creepy adventure.
There is a man with a hook for a hand, a miniature model of the town with mysteriously moving figures, and a legendary sea monster. They all search for something. And who better to help them than the Lost and Founder of the Grand Nautilus hotel?

Herbert and Violet are looking for Violet’s parents who disappeared from that very hotel 12 years before. Can the Malamander answer Violet's questions? Is this monster horrible or harmless?

The second book is out now, Gargantis!


In 2018, Adam Gidwitz introduced his monster saving series, The Unicorn Rescue Society. Since then, URS members have protected a jersey devil, a chupacabra, a basque dragon, a Sasquatch and, most recently, a water serpent from Cuba.

Remember this, reader friends, mythical monsters are born that way and need our protection.

‘Nuff said.

MAIL!

I got a letter! From a real person! And I stopped what I was doing, sat down and opened it. For just those few minutes, I fell into someone else’s world. The slant of the words, the loops and whorls of penmanship, I was touching something she made - just for me.

Emails speed up the communication. They lie in a long line of other messages that demand my attention. Even when they take up the whole screen, I know that once that note is closed other messages will wave and call. My aunt prints out her emails in order to give them the personal attention they deserve.

Emails are not letters.

But a letter! In an envelope! My surroundings actually drop away. I can’t read a letter and unload the dishwasher - as I can when I am talking on the phone. With a letter in my hand - and in my sight - I don’t look around and notice Things That Need To Be Done.

Texts? I think of texts as Need To Know Quickie Notes. They ask questions. They call for attention. “What time…?” “Give me a call…” “Thinking of you. Let’s talk later…” “Could you?…”

Texts are not letters.

Video calls connect me to people far away. I love seeing their faces and hearing their voices. But just like actual meetings, video calls end, and unless we record every single one, we have only our memories as souvenirs.

Video calls are not letters.

This letter? I can read it again and again. I can smile as the words race across the paper. I can imagine my sister’s desk. She might have written it there - or at the table in the kitchen, or even sitting in her yard under her orange tree.

I got a letter! and it lifted up this hot summer day - like a scented breeze from somewhere faraway!  I got a letter and because I did, I am going to take the time to write a letter- or two - right now.

BLM - Book reviews

Hmmph,!  I just spent two hours trying to make a book review video and my tongue tripped over so many words that I quit!  I quit!

Instead, I will review four books that address, however tangentially, the issues that Black Lives Matter protesters hope to change.

This Book is Anti-Racist by Tiffany Jewel. Written for students, this book is a primer for understanding who the reader is and how they fit into the various circles of influence in society. When the reader figures that out, they are given tools for speaking out and taking a stand. Finally, Jewell offers ideas for finding allies, joining organizations and campaigns to make our society more fair for everyone.

We Are Power by Todd Hasak-Lowy. Hasak-Lowy covers six long-running nonviolent campaigns that suceeded.  Mahatma Gandhi's march to the sea earned India its independence. Alice Paul worked tirelessly and very publicly to gain the right to vote for women. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Project C campaign worked to end segregation in the south.  Cesar Chavez fought, non-violently, for better wages for the migrant farm workers of California and the Southwest and he won!  Vaclav Havel led the Velvet Revolution which turned Czechoslovakia into a democracy.
The last nonviolent protest is still ongoing, Greta Thunberg's protest to bring attention to our dire climate crisis continues to this day.
Nonviolent protest does NOT mean no one gets hurt. This book shows that we can change the way people think and act without inflicting violence on others.

Thurgood Marshall by Teri Kanefield. This book is part of The Making of America series of biographies by Kanefield. The biography is eminently readable and gives a lively overview of the

first Black Supreme Court Justice's life as well as an overview of Civil Rights in America in the late 20th century.

New Kid by Jerry Craft. Winner of the 2020 Newbery Award, this graphic novel follows Jordan, a aspiring cartoonist, as he starts at a new prestigious private school a train ride from his neighborhood school. Jordan is one of a handful of kids of color at this school. To deal with new-school-itis, Jordan draws these awesome comics that describe his trip to the new school every day, how he thinks his teachers see him and the other students and his feelings.  The interactions with the teachers are so realisitic that I wonder if this book is based on Jerry Craft's own experiences. It's awesome and eye-opening and hopeful.

Sunday Selfie - What I Believe, Stuff I Learned

Things I believe:
I believe Black Lives Matter.

I believe families should stay together.

I believe in social distancing and mask wearing as a community attempt to slow and stop the spread of COVID-19.

I believe that Native Americans have the right and responsibility to protect their sacred lands.

I believe that the Earth is our Home and should be kept clean.

I believe that our National Parks MUST be protected.

I believe in a whole lot more (universal health care, voting rights for all, we are all one family,  dandelions are not weeds), some serious, some not.

And I believe in YOU!

Thanks, Pixabay.

It’s been a time, hasn’t it?  Are you keeping a journal? Do you write down the events as they happen? Do you make note of the realizations you have had, the joys you rediscovered, the small happinesses of your days? YOU could be the Samuel Pepys of 2020.  Those entries will create the stories of your future.

Almost daily, some municipality in our area hosts a rally to support Black Lives Matter. It gives me hope that people will eventually start treating others as members of the same community.

Our county has moved to “yellow” - stores and restaurants are re-opening with social distance requirements and mask requirements.  Yesterday, I went to a store!! And bought crafting supplies…of course.

While I ease into finding my new normal, I wonder what I have learned.

I have options that a lot of people don’t have. I learned that. Things as simple as a choice in what I eat for breakfast can fill me with gratitude and awareness.

When I walk around my neighborhood, there is beauty everywhere I look. People grow kaleidoscopes of flowers in their yards. Rabbits are everywhere! Small things can bring joy. I learned to look for them.

I learned that I have enough! Enough food, clothes, room. Stores will see less of me, I think.

I like my own company. It’s nice to learn that I like myself, even while I stew over my shortcomings.

I learned that change takes way, way too much time. We just have to keep working, trying, picking ourselves up and marching forward. Our goal is to always “spiral upwards” towards joy, towards love, towards a unity that makes room for everyone.

Stay safe, everyone. Keep striving for peace, hope and love.

5 Pandemic-related thoughts; Sunday Selfie

Whew! I can barely type anymore. My brain is in a fog. There is garden to be planted, house to clean; stuff to sew and thoughts - so many thoughts.

I scuttled my first Thought #1. It was divisive but writing it made me feel better.

So my new Thought #1 is this.
Write down the things that anger you instead of shouting them out. Write down your worries. Write down your disappointments. Write down your hardships.  Somehow, seeing them spread out in black (or blue or red or even chartreuse) is a release.  And, sometimes it puts your worries into a more healthy perspective.

(CAVEAT: Writing down reports of dangerous behavior will NOT help you. If you or your loved ones are abusive or dangerously careless of themselves or others, reach out for help.)

Thought #2
How does going over and over the timeline of missed opportunities help us?

Now is the time to concentrate on finding solutions. If our government can't get moving due to lack of science, or lack of experience, or lack of attention, or, blast them, lack of concern, then we have to save ourselves. Support our front line workers. Invest in companies that are producing research based tests and treatments. Also, vote the buggers out! Write your representatives. now.

Find ways to work with others to promote responsible behavior. Make masks. Wear masks. Wash hands. Stay six feet apart. (Oh, that one is so hard when there are Moms to hug.)

Thought #3
Breathe.

Thought #4
Give thanks for all the people who are finding ways to connect safely; the artists who post their songs, artwork, dance, musical pieces and theater attempts, stories and writings online for everyone to enjoy.

Libraries that offer meetings on internet based networking sites; teachers that contact their students often to keep them up to date; friends who photograph the beautiful and delightful things in their life and share those photos; children who create chalk drawings to cheer up their neighbors. Poets who find new ways to view our predicament. Be grateful for what we have. Reach out to others who have less.

Thought #5
Lift each other up.  Sing. Breathe. Bake. Find the flower in the sidewalk and celebrate it.
Be kind. Be truthful. Be careful. Be brave.

Sometime Selfies

What day is it? Did I miss the whole weekend? When our schedules are turned upside down, it is easy to lose track of the days.

Sunday came and went and no selfie from me. But, I have the same excuse we all have. So here is my Someday Selfie.

I have been staying up way too late. After midnight, one night last week, I heard a train whistle off in the distance.

It was a soft whistle a mile or so away. It was so soft that the only time I would ever hear those late night wails is on a night when I could not sleep.



We lived about 1/10th of a mile away from the train tracks as I was growing up. The trains ran more frequently back then but they rarely woke me up. Kids can sleep through anuthing once they get used to it.

When the train whistle did wake me up,  the cars creaked and crashed as they made their away around the gentle bend at the end of the park.

The train's horn sent me messages back then - and now. Sometimes the messages were forlorn, the way train whistles are often imagined. Other times, as I lay safe in my bed, the train sang out, "Love to you! Love to you!

Love to my mother who still lives in that house on the side of the hill.
Love to my brothers and sisters who heard their own messages when the whistle blew.
Love to my husband as he sleeps soundly through the train's soft wail.
Love to my son, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter who live close to another segment of that same track.

Love to all those who are gone, or far away, or out of touch. Love to everyone sheltering in place, close but out of reach.

The train I heard the other night sang another song. It wailed "Soon!" "Soon!"

Soon, the engineer and the brakeman will get home to their famiies.

Soon, the train and all of its cars will rest in the train yard.

Soon, the packages, or cows, railings, or gravel, or people - soon, they will get to wherever they are headed.

Soon, a train load of good health will roll our way. We need to be patient. We need to be ready. Soon, friends and loved ones, we will hug each other again. Stay safe. Stay at home. Stay well.

Listen to the train...."Love to youuuuuuuu!"

 

Just read the BEST book - Weekly Book Review

Bad news: The Kutztown University Children's Literature Conference has been canceled. I am NOT HAPPY about that but there are books to read.

When the yearly Book Awards were announced by the ALA, this title showed up in the Honors. I never heard of it. I never read a review of it. But! Oh! My! This book is so good.

Scary Stories for Young Foxes by Christian McKay Heidegger, with illustrations by Junji Wu, gives an insder's view of what might turn a fox kit's blood to ice.  As a family of kits listen to an old fox tell scary stories, we learn of Mia and Uly, two kits who are separated from their families in horrible - for foxes - ways.  The short stories are cautionary as well as terrifying. One brave kit makes it through ALL the stories. Will you?

I made a book review video because that is what we do when we must stay confined to our homes. Those of us who can play instruments are playing beautiful music. Me, I review books.

BTW, the first book I mention on this video was so good!  The book is chock full of historical details about the silent film business, for us adult readers, and LOTS of adventure for younger readers.

Also, in my preview of Astronuts:Mission 2; The Water Planet, the book by Jon Scieszka, at the end I say it's by Steven Weinberg - Steven Weinberg is the illustrator.

Thanks for stopping by. Stay well. If you can, please stick close to home. If you must go out, be careful. The world thanks you.

Keeping reading!

Detectives at work - Stay at home with the Grand!

On Monday, Dulci came to us for the day.  It was beautiful - a tad breezy - but an awesome day for the playground and so off we went.

These days, we are orphan girls trying hard to stay out of the grips of the evil orphanage - think Annie!.  Sometimes, we are running away from a certain tycoon who sells everything. Dot - as D calls herself - works for A@@@@@ Prime editing videos. (I did NOT make this up.) I, Mary Ann, (not my real name, haha) work in one of the warehouses and it is HARD work.

But on Monday, we did not have to report for work because...nobody actually did, except first responders and medical personnel and support staff and postal workers, etc.

We maintained appropriate social distance from the others on the playground - grandparents and their grands.

Before lunch, we went home, grabbed our notebooks and went out for an adventure walk.  We wrote down everything of interest that we saw, including a pipe sticking out of a clump of grass, daffodils, plastic from a car, we think, grape hyacinths blooming in the middle of a lawn, and a huge pile of sticks stacked next to a tree.  Little did we realize that, much later in the day, these notes would come in handy.

We had other adventures right after lunch.  Then we got to work at our OTHER job as Dulcinator the Investigator and NanaLou, the Gumshoe.

We wait for your call.

We received a (completely fictional) call that pets disappeared from the neighborhood in the last few days.  Who could be responsible?  We floated several theories. But I remembered something from our adventure walk. Why would anyone have a big pile of sticks in front of  their house?

Dogs love to chase sticks!!  We agreed that this was certainly a clue.

D wondered if the pipe she saw could actually be where a laser pointer came out to lure all the cats in the neighborhood to play.

We are - I have no words for how clever we are.  So, now we just had to figure out which one of our favorite criminals may have perpetrated this theft of cats and dogs.

We examined the car of BGR (Big Gray Rabbit) and his crew of "workers", Hog, the Hedgehog and Fiddle-i-Fee, the fiddler and... you will not believe what we found. Plastic strips were missing from the edges of their car doors.

We caught our bad guys as they were loading up another (fictional) puppy into their damaged car.  Within hours, all the pets had returned to their (imaginary) owners.

Dulcinator was proud and happy to tell the last caller.  "We work for free.  Stay out of trouble."  Actually I added the "Stay out of trouble" part.

It's good advice. Stay out of trouble. Keep your distance. Be kind.  Wash your hands, etc.  Dulcinator the Investigator and NanLou the Gumshoe will be here to take your call!  We work for free.

Sunday Selfie - Small Steps

Small steps lead to completed journeys. That's my deep thought for the day.

This past week has been worrisome for all of us. And people in the "at risk" clubs - people with chronic illnesses, already in treatment for disease, immune compromised, medical personnel and, yes, the old - monitor each cough and ache with magnifying glasses and fine tooth combs.

Add losing an hour's sleep last weekend to that - and full moon, etc. superstitious baggage - and we are worn down with worry.

Each morning this week, I woke up feeling cranky and reluctant to engage with the chores of life itself. Where was my handmaiden to offer me juice and golden toast slices as I shrugged off slumber? Could no one free me of the chains of domestic drudgery?

Then yesterday I FORCED myself to do some yoga before I went downstairs. After a total of 8 minutes of stretching my mood improved.  I found some energy and ordered seeds and plants for my garden!  Whoo hoo! Things were looking up.

I took a walk. A walk, I say! Outside in the sunshine, under the trees - a beautiful walk! It might have been the sun that made me abandon my frown.

Fred understood the value of small - teeny-tiny - steps.

I think not. The act of forcing myself to actually take care of myself was the small step to a better day.

I am a Sitter. (If Sitting was an Olympic sport, I would medal in it.) Sitters avoid sports and unneeded physical exertion. Yoga and a walk, all in a single day- for me that is tantamount to climbing a mountain. I am so proud of myself.

For Do-ers, those who exercise every day as a matter of course, a small step to break gloom and worry might include taking time to engage in a hobby or taking time to sit still.

In Happiness in Five Minutes a Day, Vince Chiles, LCSW, encourages people to do five exercises a day: Wake Up Surprised, Take a Break to Re-Energize, Take a Break to be Creative, Learn Something New, and Go to Bed Grateful.  Vince describes how even one minute of a new or different activity can break the cycle of grump and worry.

(Full disclosure here: Vince is my younger brother. But his book's program makes sense and is easy to follow.)

Small steps, everyone. If this world class Sitter can banish worry with a small step, so can you.

PS. I did yoga and walked today, too. I surprise myself!

Words to Avoid when Reviewing Books (A through L)

A 

Amazing - stop using this word - ever.

Awesome - see above.  I use this word to excess.

Addictive  - like addiction is a good thing?

B

Beautiful - that's like calling a book a "book".

Breathtaking - I will keep my breath, thank you.

C

Creative

Captivating

Clever - this one is ok, sometimes, I guess.

D

Delicious - oh, stop it.

Daring

Devastating - honestly?  Isn't life hard enough already?

Delightful - see "Delicious" above.


E

Engaging

Enlightening

Excellent

Educational - gag!!

F

Fabulous

Fantastic

G

Great

Gorgeous - yes, I have seen this word used about a book.

H 

Hilarious

I 
Intriguing 

Interesting - YUCK!.(I use it way too often.)

Illuminating 

Imaginative - well, I HOPE so

J
I pass on J's. If you find a good J adjective, use it. (Jaunty? jazzy? jolly? I'm out of suggestions.)

K 
There are not a lot of K adjectives out there. Knowledgeable should refer to the author, so that one is fine. Avoid Keen. 'Nuff said.

L
LUMINOUS!  I loved it at one time and then it was everywhere. And what does it mean when referred to a book? That you can read it in the dark?
 
Lovely

Luscious - books are not peaches!

Literary - Please enlighten me, someone.


That's all I have.  M through Z will arrive at a later date.  

All the Changes - Weekly Book Report

Love this cover!

Sometimes, it feels like I am just reading the same story over and over - the settings might be different but the main characters' struggles are the same.

These two books are a case in point. The characters struggle with you they are and firmly believe that they are something other than merely human.


Extraordinary Birds by Sandy McGinnis-Stark follows December, an 11-year-old foster child who is convinces that she is not truly human. In an attempt to change her life story, she writes what she wishes her past held and about her hopes for her future.  A new placement shifts her view of her life.
The author includes fascinating facts about birds and animal rehabilitation.

A Monster Like Me by Wendy Swore. Sophie has a noticeable hemangioma, or "blood blister" on the side of her face.  That disfigurement has Sophis convinced that she is not truly human. She carries a book about monsters to help her navigate a world that is filled with danger. The snippets quoted from the Book of Monsters will appeal to fantasy lovers - and to readers who want to hold on to their belief in magic.  Those snippets also contain deep thoughts and sound advice.

And THEN, there are the books that simply tell the truth.

This Promise of Change: On Girl's Story in the Fight for School Equality by Jo Ann Allen Boyce and Debbie Levy. Jo Ann Allen was one of twelve black students to integrate Clinton High School in Clinton, Tennessee in 1956. The first week was quiet and then outside agitators arrived. While the principal of the school, the mayor of Clinton and the governor of Tennessee all upheld the law, perhaps reluctantly, aggression against the students grew. Cross burnings, angry mobs, bullying followed the black teens as they tried to get an equal education. Jo Ann finally tells her story of those events in this memoir written in verse.

Hello, Crochet Friends! Making Art, Being Mindful, Giving Back: Do What Makes You Happy by Jonah Larson, Jennifer Larson, Erin Harris. Jonah is a social media sensation because of his beautiful crochet pieces.  In this colorful picture book, Jonah tells his story, from being an abandoned infant from Ethiopia to being a crochet star in the US. Until his fifth grade teacher suggested he bring his crochet projects to school, Jonah was a problem student. He finished his schoolwork quickly and found ways to get into trouble. Crochet helped him focus. His classmates loved what he made and Jonah's Hands, his business, took flight. Great photos! Great problem solving! Great fifth grade teacher!

It Rained Warm Bread by Gloria Moskowitz-Sweet, Hope Anita Smith, Lea Lyon. At 13, Moishe Moskowitz's life was torn apart by the Nazi invasion of Poland. Moved from camp to camp, he lost his entire family. The title is based on one incident in this story of deprivation, degradation and survival. Gloria Moskowitz-Sweet brings her father's story to life in this small poetic volume. Let us never forget.

Running With Wolves by National Geographic Kids and Jim and Jamie Dutcher. Jim Dutcher, a wildlife photographer and cinematographer, wanted to show the world the intricate lives of wild wolves. This book relates his six year experiment studying a pack of wolves in the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho. Jamie Dutcher was involved remotely until the last three years. The descriptions of natural settings is stunning. The wolves have distinct personalities and loyalties. Animal lovers, outdoor enthusiasts, photography buffs will find so much to like in this book.

Sunday Selfie - Scrabble

My sister visited with her son this week. He had elbow surgery.  She lives in the Southwest. And when someone who lives in THE Southwest, is visiting someone who is a four hour drive from her Mom, well, that someone drives down with son in tow.

My nephew is a grown man of not yet 30, (I'm not sure how old he is). He works as a cook in a fine restaurant. He can talk knowledgeably and in depth about almost anything in the world and he has the darkest deepest brown eyes. He sports the rich red hair that his mother and several other of my siblings all have - red on the verge of auburn - and all of them have brown eyes of different shades.

His mother is a listener. I called her not long ago and when I got off the phone, my husband asked, "Did you let her talk at all?"

So, this listening sister, our mother, and I played Scrabble.

A cup of tea and the kind of easy chitchat that comes from knowing each other all of our lives was punctuated by the groans from a mix of vowels with no consonants and vice versa.  My listening sister worked on a yarn project. I repeated grand kid stories. Mom let us know about far flung relatives and friends.

We made words, big and small. The score never matters to me. I can never beat Heidi at Scrabble and Mom still holds her own. Seven letter words got applause and clever placement of the biggies (X, Z, Q) brought cheers regardless of who played them.

I missed the Hand and Foot tournament that happened at my Mom's house the next night. Another sister, a niece and another nephew showed up to play. Mom had two decks of cards to the Hand and Foot collection. The cousins talked about music and social media. My sisters shared photos of their pets. They don't have grandchildren - yet.

So, today, with the relatives from afar returned to northern lands and from there to the wilds of the Southwest, I walked over to Mom's and lost at Scrabble, yet again.

Someday, in the far future I hope, I will not be able to play games in my mother's dining room. But until then I plan to play as many games with as many members of my family as possible.

With every tile that we lay down, we spell the same word over and over again. That word is "Love".

Weekly Book Report

May I report about my to read pile first? It's way bigger than the books I have read this week.

My "bedside" pile - the quotes are there because they are not all on my bedside - includes;

This Promise of Change by Jo Ann Allen Levy and Debbie Levy    This is a memoir of one of the students who integrated Clinton high School in Tennessee in 1956. I want to read it but I am afraid of the hurt she will reveal. 

A Monster Like Me by Wendy S. Swore    What kind of monster is Sophie? The hemangioma - or blood tumor - on one side of her face convinces Sophie that she is not quite human.

Normal: One Kid's Extraordinary Journey by Magdalena and Nathaniel Newman   Nathaniel New- man has a cranio facial syndrome that deforms his face. His story is true. 

Extraordinary Birds by Sandy Stark-McGinnis    She is in foster care and she is sure that she is really a bird. She has scars on her back where her wings will surely grow back. Can a new placement help her?

Also, the ARCs that I received today from Candlewick Press and Chronicle Books and the titles I received from Abrams.  I may keep one or two or a few of these titles but most of them will end up in the hands of teachers and librarians who attend this year's KUCLC (Kutztown Unversity Children's Literature Conference) which is coming up on April 18th.

From Chronicle

And the books I read this week??

Caterpillar Summer By Gillian McDunn   Cat and Chicken travel all the way to North Carolina when their summer plans fall through. Their mother must work, so she takes them to her parents who live on an island off the North Carolina shore. Cat worries that Chicken, whose real name is Henry, will not adjust to these grandparents that they have never met.  Chicken is a worry, with his sensitivities to touch and noise and his penchant for running away.  How can Mom leave them both with strangers?
Charming,

Leaving Lymon by Lesa Cline-Ransome    From the time Lymon was very small, people have left him. First, his mother left. Then, his father went to prison. When his grandfather died, Lymon and his grandmother felt truly abandoned. They moved from Mississippi to Milwaukee, then Lymon's mother took him to Chicago. But he belonged nowhere and to no one, except his father, a wandering musician after he was freed.  Set in the same time period that Finding Langston occurred, Cline-Ransome snatches Lymon's character from one small incident in the earlier book and gives Lymon a story, a talent and a quest.

Diary of a 5th Grade Outlaw by Gina Loveless and Andrea Bell    Robin Loxley is the best basketball player at Nottingham Elementary School and right now she is the loneliest. Her "best" friend hasn't spoken to Robin since the Spring. When another fith grader starts "taxing" kids to play on the playground equipment, Robin has something to take her mind off her troubles. She will take the stolen goods from the "Taxer" and give them back to their rightful owners. It's a good plan. She has a new friend to help, Little Joan - the other best basketball player at Nottingham. But it all goes haywire when their principal goes to a conference.
It's a series, in large print and with clever drawings, about normal kids getting into normal trouble. Thumbs up!  AND Gina Loveless will be at the Kutztown University Children's Literature Conference or KUCLC.

I am reading - not finished yet but not waiting in the wings either - Running With Wolves: Our Story of Life with the Sawtooth Pack by Jim and Jamie Dutcher.  Though I haven't met many wolves yet, I enjoy Jim's and Jamie's storytelling styles. They add just the right amount of description to give the reader a feel for the mountain range and pastures without getting bogged down.

 

Little Blue Bunny Update: Part 3 - A-sailing we will go.

Warning: Do NOT try this at home. It is disrespectful to musical instruments. Little Blue Bunnies don't know any better but YOU do!

Little Blue Bunny lay on the floor in front of the fireplace.

“OK.” Franklin said. “We’re downstairs. What’s your best idea yet?”

“I’m looking at it,” Little Blue Bunny stared at the guitar stand.

“Oh come on,” Franklin giggled. “We can’t play the guitar.”

“Not the guitar,” Little Blue Bunny hopped up. “The ukulele. And we’re not going to play it.”

He looked at Franklin and his ears bounced up and down on his head. “We. Are. Going Sailing!”

“NO!” Franklin gasped and then he coughed. “How? What? You can’t..That’s Insane!”

“I know!” Now all of Little Blue Bunny bounced up and down.  “Isn’t that the best idea yet? AND…”

He winked one shiny black eye.

“If we are careful, no one will know anything about it.”

Franklin’s eyes were as big as marbles and considering that Franklin is only 4 inches tale that is very big for his eyes to be.

Franklin drew himself up to his full height -four inches, that’s what I said, but with his ears, Franklin is closer to 4 and one half inches.

He looked at Little Blue Bunny who is not any taller. Then, Franklin said. “It cannot be done. Period. We are too little.”

Little Blue Bunny laughed out loud and then he called out, “Hey Lily! Could you help us.”

Lily the leopard is over two feet tall, very close to THREE feet tall. That is 9 times as tall as Franklin or Little Blue Bunny.  Lily sleeps on the bench in front of the living room window most of the time. That day, she was grooming herself on the sofa when Little Blue Bunny called.

Lily and Little Blue Bunny before they decided to be "just friends".

You might remember that there was a time when Little Blue Bunny and Lily were “an item”. It was not a good match but their friendship is still strong.

So on that day - a day when Nana and Gramps were coughing and sneezing at THEIR house and D was with Mommy in far away South America and Daddy was off at work - on that sunny day in February, Lily looked up and gave a bright toothy smile.

“What is it, my little bunbun?” she purred.

“I want to go sailing!” Little Blue Bunny explained his plan.

Soon, Lily was on the hearth of the fireplace right next to the guitar stand. Little Blue Bunny and Franklin sat on her head. They each pushed up on the ukulele until it lifted off the hooks on the stand.

“Help!” squeaked Little Blue Bunny as the ukulele teetered between his paws and Franklin’s paws.

“Here,” Lily said with a sigh. She opened her mouth and the ukulele fell right in.

“Don’t hurt it!” Franklin croaked. “Don’t bite down.”

Lily could not answer with a small wooden instrument in her mouth but she growled - just a bit - and rolled her golden glass eyes.

The next step was tedious.  Little Blue Bunny used some hair ribbons to make a harness for the ukulele.  He and Franklin were going to pull the ukulele up the stairs.

“Oh really.” Lily snorted. “Give that to me.”

“I don’t want the ukulele swinging from your mouth,” Little Blue Bunny said gently. He had climbed back on Lily’s head and he scratched behind her ears. “If you got excited or something, the ukulele might swing and hit something and..”

“Help!” Franklin covered his eyes with his paws.

“So.” Lily spoke slowly and carefully, “Tie it to my back.”

And that’s what Little Blue Bunny and Franklin did.

The three of them crawled up the stairs to the bathroom tub.  Well, Lily crawled up the stairs with a ukulele and two small bunnies on her back.

Little Blue Bunny slid up to Lily’s shoulder and using the back brush, he managed to push the stopper down AND to turn on the water - the cold water.

“Now what?” Franklin stared as the water slowly filled the tub.

“We wait until it’s deep enough.” Little Blue Bunny said. “Let’s get this boat ready to launch.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Franklin sighed.

He helped Little Blue Bunny move the ukulele from Lily’s back to the edge of the tub. Then holding the hair ribbons, the two bunnies gently lowered the small guitar into the tub.

“Lily, could you hold the mooring ropes for us?” Little Blue Bunny asked.

Lily took the hair ribbons in her mouth to keep the ukulele next to the tub’s side.


“Come on, First Mate Franklin,” Little Blue Bunny lowered himself on to the ukulele.

“Here goes nothing.” Franklin muttered and he joined his friend in the hole of the ukulele.

The strings plucked and plunked and Lily let go of the ribbons.  Water poured from the faucet as the bunnies floated in their pink “boat”.

“Isn’t this great?” Little Blue Bunny climbed out of the hole and stood on the deck.

“How do we steer?” Franklin asked.

Little Blue Bunny did not answer. He whistled a sailor song as he walked around the ukulele.

“Steer?” Franklin shouted.

While Little Blue Bunny pretended to be a ship’s captain, Franklin realized that their boat was twirling closer and closer to the roaring faucet.

“Help!” Franklin shouted.

Lily grabbed the back brush and slammed it down on the faucet. Hot water poured into the tub.

“Give me that,” Franklin yelled.

He grabbed the back brush and shoved it under the hot water faucet until that faucet closed and then he did the same with the cold water faucet.

The ukulele rocked back and forth and water sloshed into the hole.

“Grab on to this, please,” Franklin held the back brush out to Lily. She grabbed it in her mouth and pulled the ukulele to the side of the tub.

The water was so high that Franklin only had to give a little hop to reach the rim of the tub.

“Come on, Captain Little Blue Bunny,” Franklin pulled his best friend up off the ukulele. Little Blue Bunny grabbed the hair ribbons as he jumped to the rim.

“That was awesome.” Little Blue Bunny laughed. “Actually, Franklin, now that the faucet isn’t on, we could sail around the tub all day.”

Not a ukulele, but I bet Little Blue Bunny would LOVE this boat.

Franklin had already jumped to the floor and was tugging on a towel hanging from the door handle.

“Sorry,” Franklin grunted as he shoved and pulled and kicked the towel over to the tub. “I quit. I think I get sea sick.”

“But it worked, right?” Little Blue Bunny was still as happy as a seafaring bunny could be.

“Yes, it did, Little Blue Bunny.” Franklin looked up and he just had to smile at his friend. “The next time we go sailing, though, let’s turn the faucet off before we get in the boat.”

“Good idea!,” Little Blue Bunny grabbed on one end of the ribbons and he and Lilly lifted the ukulele out of the water and lowered it gently onto the waiting towel.


“And,” Little Blue Bunny continued. “We’ll bring paddles or something next time.”

Lily gave a deep laugh. “Maybe you could actually use a boat next time. If there IS a next time.”

Little Blue Bunny and Franklin dried that ukulele inside and out.  Then the two bunnies tied the ukulele around Lily’s neck again.

“Hold it against your tummy,” Little Blue Bunny suggested. “We’ll slide down the stairs.”

“What about the water in the tub?” Lily asked.

“Oh, that, “Little Blue Bunny pinched his nose and jumped into the tub. He swam to the plug and pulled it up.

He swam to the edge of the tub.

“Give me something to grab onto,” he gasped. He forgot that the draining water could pull him down. He felt the water tugging at his legs and tail.

“Thnss guns fff thi bruh,” Lily held the back brush in her mouth and Little Blue Bunny grabbed it.

Lilly flipped him onto the towel.

“What did you say?” Little Blue rolled around on the towel to dry off.

“I said, ‘Thank goodness for this brush.” Lily dropped the brush on the floor.

The bunnies tied the dried-off ukulele around Lily’s neck and she tucked it under her chin.  Then the bunnies sat between Lily’s ears as she slid down the stairs.

They managed to return the ukulele to its perch on the guitar stand.  Then, Lily went back to the bench by the window as the afternoon sun poured in.

Franklin and Little Blue Bunny lay on the rug by the fireplace.

“Um, Franklin,” Little Blue Bunny said lazily. “Should we go back upstairs to put the towel back on the doorknob?”

Franklin opened one eye and looked at Little Blue Bunny. “You have to be kidding.”

Then, he closed his eyes again and started to snore.

Little Blue Bunny wasn’t quite ready to go to sleep. He watched the late afternoon sunlight as it striped the floor and wondered what the next day would bring. Adventure, that was for sure!