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".

Sunday Selfie- 44 years ago this week

Around this time of year, 44 years ago, I sat down in the recliner at my mother’s house and couldn’t get back up. My stomach was a beach ball, and as my husband pulled me up, I said, “This is the first time I really want this baby to come.”

I enjoyed being pregnant all the way up to that night. I enjoyed his kicking and his growing. I enjoyed it all.

I still had about 2 weeks to go on that particular night. But, he must have heard me because within days he arrived.

This week, our son, our only child, will turn 44.

Having him was such a joy, my husband and I wanted to have another child. Our son was handsome and smart and funny and all the things a child should be. He also sulked and threw tantrums and got stubborn in all the ways that children usually do those things.

We wanted another child. A lot.

We wanted our son to have someone he could share vacations with, someone he could roll his eyes with at the dinner table when we sounded off or told awful jokes. We wanted him to know that he had someone besides us who would always have his back.

I grew up with brothers and sisters and it was a mess - but I loved it. My husband was an only child. He hoped that our son would have a bigger family.

For years, I grieved. I lost a few pregnancies. When cancer took my uterus, right as menopause was setting in, I mourned loudly and long.

What a waste of my time and emotional energy that was! What message did that send to our son, I wonder.

I HAD a child. He was just right. He was smart, and kind, friendly, funny. He let me read to him at night time for years and years.

When we did not get along - in his high school years, - I remember telling him this. “No matter what you do, no matter where you end up, having you was and always will be the best thing I have ever done.”

It was true then. It is true now. It will always be true.

I wish I had spent more time realizing that I had everything I wanted in our small family - a loving husband, a charming child, a crazy dog.  Who could ask for more?

Me.  Selfish, silly me.

As we approach the 44th anniversary of me becoming a mama and Bill becoming a Dad, and, of course, Andrei’s 44th birthday, I feel grateful, melancholy, joyful, and old.

Thank you, God, for the gift you gave me 44 years ago. Forgive me for wanting more. He is just right. Exactly what I always wanted.

I love you, son.

Sunday Selfie -

The Army Ants came first.


It was a tough time. The budget was tight and services to children and infants stretched. My husband and his good friend worked in Intake, under a director who was later accused of malfeasance. (I forget exactly what she did.) At one point, Hub and J were ordered to tell new callers that they could not offer them ANY services. They took that order hard and did what they could to help all callers.

Their cubby was located near the front door of the agency. Hub took some of our son's Army Ants into work. Do you remember those?

When Hub and J found that workers came in to play with the Army Ants, (arranging them in battle positions or other positions, probably), they decided to make their little way station a "destination" office.

"The Quote of the Day" was a big hit. More about that later.

When the holidays hit, Hub asked me for the tackiest Christmas decorations we owned. He and J festooned their work stations. The other workers LOVED it.

But the best thing they did during the holidays in that time of duress was the Word of the Day. Each morning, they picked a word and offered prizes (candy) to anyone who guessed that word.

If you know my Hub, you can just imagine what words the workers expected. After all, it was a high stress time in the office. Caseworkers offered every foul word as a possible choice.

At the end of the day, all those barnyard speakers were delighted to find that Hub and J, both of them world class cursers, always picked something benign.

"No, no!" Hub would say in his mildest, somewhat incredulous voice. "The word is 'holly'." Or reindeer or snow or something else seasonal.

Hub told me that story - again - this morning. And it cracked me up - again - as it does every time I hear it.

It was a stressful time at work and here at home. Hub rose to the challenge, helping his co-workers stay sane in a job that is thankless and emotionally draining. J is gone and we miss daily.

When the agency's awful director was finally removed, Hub and J auctioned off their Quote of the Day post-its to raise money for small gifts for new foster kids. It was the end of an era.

Step up to keep your friends and family sane this holiday season. Do the little things - offer tea - a smile - a joke - Hold the door open. If you work, make your workspace a safe and cheery space.

If, like the coworkers in this story, you feel like cursing - buy some Army Ants! 





Bill's favorite Quote of the Day from the days of Bill and Jim:

"My kingdom will always have room for a boot licking lackey like you." (From the Gummy Bears cartoon show.)

Sunday Selfie - a day late

Today, I picked up my mother (93) and my Aunt  Mary (96) from their volunteer work counting the Sunday collection at their church. I drove around the block to my aunt's house.

"Don't get out!" Aunt Mary insisted. "Your mother can help me to the door."

I listen to my elders. I stayed in the car. I watched as my mother supported her big sister, step by step, up the walk. Two old women, gray and slow, side by side, walked together, as I imagine they have walked their entire lives.

I feel privileged to have seen the abiding sisterly love between them. It's unspoken.

Then, having delivered her sister safely to her home, my mother made her way, more quickly and surely back to the car. I drove her to her home where we wrestled empty recycling bins back into their places in the carport.

It is Fall.  We notice the empty places in our garden. We anticipate shorter days, colder nights and darkness. We look forward to loss and if we can stretch our imagination, to the growth that covers the bare spaces.

 Still, today is a good day because, for now, I still can watch these two sisters walk together.

Sunday Selfie

I spend the week between the young and the old.

My mother called me last Sunday when she got stung by a hornet. She was fine except for the pain She called the doctor - my brother - so I got to talk to him when I got to the house.

On Tuesday, she got an odd message when she tried to pay a bill online. I went over and called the bank for her because I know the "trick" of getting a human to answer the call. Mom did everything right. But now, she knows why she got that message.

We went greeting card shopping on Thursday. So many people have birthdays, need condolences or reassurances. Then we picked up Gramps (my hubby) and went out to lunch.

Yesterday, we played Scrabble. I have been winning lately but only by a few points. I relish those wins. My Mom still plays a mean game of Scrabble.

She'll be in upstate NY this week with my brother, the doctor. She left this morning. I already miss her.

My granddaughter, on the other hand, is still in town. (She lives nearby.) She slept over last Saturday. We did not get to sleep until midnight and it was NOT her fault.

On Tuesday afternoon, we picked her up from school and for an hour and a half she played with me.

We pretend to text various stuffed animals when Gramps drives us to D's piano lessons.

D likes to mix things together - like glue and peanut butter - to see what happens, usually with no rhyme or reason. I'm a Nana so that's ok with me.

I let the toys lie where they land for a full day before I pick them up. These days will pass too quickly.

The resemblances between these two ladies fill me with awe and with melancholy. They both live life with joy, laugh at mistakes, worry about changes. One smiles because her life is full of memories. The other smiles because she has so much to do.

Today, after worship, someone asked me how I spent my summer. I told them I spent it with these two awesome people.

"One will grow up," I said. "One will leave me forever. I hope they stagger these huge changes so I don't find myself bereft all at once."

As the days shorten, I am grateful that I still have my mother. I rejoice in my granddaughter. And I appreciate the others, the quiet steady ones, my husband, my son and his wife, who stand by.

You Go First

Books that portray outcasts in middle school and the mocking they undergo give me the heeby jeebies.  If I was in 4th grade and grabbed one of these books, I'd try to convince my parents to homeschool me, especially if I was just a teensy bit different  from the other kids.

Today, as I read You Go First by Erin Entrada Kelly, I had a disturbing thought. What if a reader wanted to avoid being the victim; would the reader be tempted to copy the behavior of the "cooler" kids in this book? I hope not.

Ben Boxer and Charlotte Lock have only one connection; they play Scrabble online and vie with one another for top billing.

In their separate lives, they share more than they know.  Their family lives suddenly become very complicated. Charlotte's father has a heart attack. Ben's parents announce their divorce. When Ben gets this news, he realizes that he has no one he can call. Friends from elementary school have pulled away from him. So, he calls Charlotte, or Lottie. Instead of sharing his upsetting news, Ben announces that he plans to run for student council.

There's the set up. Charlotte and Ben are both Talented and Gifted (TAG). Why this marks them as peculiar has never made sense to me, but it does. (This might be why I get the heebie jeebies.) In alternating chapters, we watch Charlotte and Ben make their way through changes and challenges. Ben runs for student council and is mocked and bullied at every turn. Charlotte's best friend has tired of Charlotte and Charlotte is set adrift.

On the phone, to each other, Charlotte and Ben are in control and doing well. In their "real" lives, they find new connections. They survive.

The way Ben follows his own campaign, the way Charlotte hides her pain, make me proud of these kids and this author. Let's face it.  There are dozens of pitfalls ahead of every middle schooler. Some are dramatic, such as public embarassment, harassment and bullying.  Others are simply painful, the way friendships end, for instance. Books that let readers know that there is hope, life goes on, in engaging ways, - those books are gold.

This is one of those books.
   

WHAT HAPPENED??!!

(I started a Mucus Journal on Facebook around day #6 of my head cold. It is Day #10 and here are some of the highlights of my Mucus Journal.

        The mucus in my airways sounds like the creaking rig on a sailing ship.

        There is no commercial use for human mucus.  I checked.

         Some nasal sprays are miraculously effective - also addictive.

         Washing dishes by hand can loosen up your sinuses.  Also, eat hot sauce!

You. Are. Welcome.)


Even though both Gramps and I compete for the stuffiest nose prize, D came for a few hours last night. And you won't believe what happened.

The evening started with a few hands of poker. Little Blue Bunny won the first two hands and D got bored. So we threw all the red buttons in the pot and played one last hand. D won!! And there was NO CHEATING by anyone. Not even the dealer, who was Gramps.

(In the following true account, I will designate who came up with different plot points in this way: One asterisk means that D came up with the idea. Two asterisks are Nana ideas. Three asterisks are combination ideas.

A sad, sad day for the Acorn family.  More below.

Suddenly, we discovered that Little Blue Bunny had a terrible illness. Scarlet Fever*. I looked and he had a decidedly purplish cast to his skin - because scarlet and blue mixed together make...purple.

He had to go into quarantine which D did not know about yet - so another part of her medical education has been achieved. But before he even had a chance to get medication, he developed appendicitis***. (D wanted to operate. I suggested appendicitis.)

We had to operate, and quickly, so we both donned masks, (I wore one for most of the evening anyway.) And we operated and sent Little Blue Bunny to the Recovery Room.

Can you see his stitches?  I can't and I put them in.

He was quarantined there as well and his family could not come to see him.

Well, I had to tell the absolutely TRUE story about my little sister, Heidi.  When she was a toddler - no older than 2 and probably younger - she developed a dangerously high fever and went to the hospital. The doctors and nurses told my Mom and Dad that they could NOT visit Heidi in the hospital. So for that whole week and a half, my Mom drove to the parking lot outside the Children's Ward window, every day, and the nurse brought Heidi to the window. That was the only contact my Mom was allowed. One day, we all went. I remember standing in the parking lot and waving up at the windows on the third or fourth floor. (I was around 6.) I couldn't see that Heidi was there at all, just a curtain twitching and the nurse's hand. Heidi DID survive. She lives in Texas. I miss her.

"Well," D announced. "This is long ago times, like that."

Nutty Romomlia sneaked into the Recovery Room and got quarantined as well. Mr. and Mrs. Acorn could not see TWO of their children.

I needed a break so we did "Art Therapy" with some paint. Little Blue Bunny sneaked down to the art room to help.

During one of my bathroom and annoying cough breaks, D discovered something very distressing.

"Little Blue Bunny's Great Grandfather just died! We have to have a funeral*!"

Oh no! "How? Where? Who?" I stuttered. "I know. He was playing golf and the human golfers ran over him with a golf cart.**"

D laughed. Gramps came out to see what the noise was about and said, "I hate it when grandfathers die."

"GREAT grandfather!" D assured Gramps.

We found out that Great Grampsie's name was Squirilo (Squih -rill-oh) Acorn. He was born in 1927 so he was 91 when he died.  That was some impressive math, actually.

I don't have another squirrel toy to use as Squirilo but D assured me that we did not need one. On the side table, in the living room, she had already set a small black chest between two battery operated candles*. That's the photo at the top of this post and to the right.

Looks like a casket to me!

We found fake flowers and some pine cones and made an arrangement.  And she printed out a memorial stone.*** (Her words, my styrofoam tray.)

The family gathered with crying all around. Everyone had kind words to say about Great Grampsie. Each family member broke into tears while they extolled his gentleness, his funny ways, his golfing skills and his pranks.

At one point, D wanted us all to turn our backs to the casket and throw flowers over our shoulders*. I got confused. "So the one who gets their flower nearest the casket is the next person to have a funeral?"

D explained that it was a way to determine who got to kiss the casket first at the end of the funeral.*

Oh!  Okaaaayyy!

Then Big Grey Rabbit showed up. He told stories about his school days with Squirilo that made Squirilo sound awful. Lila, the teenage daughter, told Great Grampsie's version of these stories but Big Grey Rabbit (BGR) persisted. Nutsa Acorn was so upset that anyone would malign her grandfather-in-law at his own funeral.

D to the rescue. She pulled out her Orb of Truth*. She spun around, and there, on the orb, we could all see each event just as it happened.

Squirilo was not an angel.  HE DID play a mean prank on his best friend, Squirellarry.  Squirilo did a wintery version of the banana peel on the sidewalk prank.  Squirellary slipped and fell on the hard sidewalk - NOT into the snowbank.  Squirellary sprained his wrist.**

Squirilo was so upset.  He thought his friend would fall into the snow.  He did not think before he played this prank.  He offered to carry all of Squirellarry's books until the wrist healed and he shoveled the snow at the Squirellary household for the rest of the winter.  He did the lawn that summer, too.** The two squirrels remained fast friends their entire lives, even when Squirellary became the Mayor of the United States of Stuffies.*

BUT BGR said that Squirilo laughed and laughed and ran away. The Orb of Truth showed all. BGR laughed and laughed when Squirellarry came to school with a hurt wrist. Then, BGR played the same mean trick on Old Man Chipmunk - but Old Man Chipmunk caught BGR and never got hurt.  Thank goodness**.

(I could use an Orb of Truth. Just saying.)

Meanwhile, Stripe, the Green Rabbit, showed up. He went to school with Nutsa and he always wanted to date her. Stripe is magical* and has lived for almost 200 years*. He was born in the 1800s*. He also knew Squirilo. He said that Squirilo was the reason he, Stripe, became a Bad Guy**.  Not true. But Stripe hypnotized Lila into believing Stripe's stories. He also hypnotized Lila into thinking she wanted to marry Stripe.*

He's a bad one, that Stripe!

"NO!!! NO! No weddings! We have had illness, an operation, family separation, a death, a funeral and horrible lies.  NO WEDDINGS**!"  I dissolved into a coughing fit at this point.

OK. No weddings.  Lila was hypnotized into believing that she wanted to marry Stripe when she got old enough. Her father, Acornio Acorn had to unhypnotize her**. Stripe hypnotized her again*. Only D could help her.*

D explained that she, too, was magical and that SHE had been born in the 1700s so she knew a thing or two about Bad Guys*.  Also, I was magical and I had been born in the 1500s*.  (Thanks a lot!  I am not that old!)

There was a lot of to and fro-ing between Nutsa, Stripe, Acornio, D, and Lila and, quite frankly, I had story-creating-overload at this point. I actually forget what happened next but I know we decided that BGR - who ended up in the accordion case - could not be in the same prison as Stripe since they planned escapes together**.

Oh, I FORGOT about how we played music for the funeral. D played "Fur Elise" on the piano. (It sounds just like Fur Elise - although it's a simplified version her teacher found.) I played a song that Squirilo wrote on the accordion. He was a wonderful accordionist**. Also I played some songs that D knew so she could sing along.

My accordion, not Squirilo's.

I also forgot that Stripe hypnotized Lila into playing an awful prank on D and me. He had Lila put pepper in the cinnamon sugar jar so that D's cinnamon toast would be all peppery**. (I have to find pranks that are surprising but not actually dangerous, especially after falling down prank which could be very dangerous.) Don't worry. D smelled the pepper and only took a tiny bite. She had to drink a lot of water (Not really. Also, we did not really put pepper in the cinnamon sugar jar.)

It was almost time for Mommy to come and take D home to bed. We went up to the bedroom for a quick storybook reading. I think D did not know just how tired she was.

Mommy came and D went home to bed. And it took me less than 10 minutes to fall asleep after I went to bed.

May our adventures with the Stuffies continue for a long time, especially with the Bunny of Blue Persuasion as Gramps likes to call him. Love to D, to Little Blue Bunny, to Gramps, to Mommy and Daddy and to all of you. (Also to MY Mom and all my siblings, especially Heidi because part of her story was told last night.)

Back in the arms of his family.

Little Blue Bunny in the New Year

We take Dee to her music lessons these days.  She still wants me to sit in the back with her while Gramps drives.  Good thing, too.  I mean sitting in back...

Dee takes piano lessons at the store that Daddy taught at for years.  This is NOT Dee.

ANYWAY, we have a new technology, Dee, LBB, his family and I.  It is the palm phone.  We can call and message people in our network on the palms of our hands.  We have visual contact, too.  But more exciting than all this, we can reach through the "palmscreen" and touch what we see. We call that Touchtime!

Here is how these communications work.  Dee calls LBB - or vice versa - and they turn on visuals.   Then, Dee says, "What's that on the carpet?" or "What is that big shape behind you?"

Then, I have to make up a story about something on the carpet or what the shape is.

Touchtime was created when I assured Dee that the dragon that looked like it was going to eat Little Blue Bunny was just a cardboard cutout. She punched my palm and - zoop!- she was able to reach into our dining room and touch the dragon's scales. Touchtime!

These conversations take the entire 15 to 20 minute ride to the music store. Yesterday's call was an awesome exercise in imagination and adventure.

Here's Lila and the phone she got for Toy Christmas.  Keep reading.

When we called LBB, we were surprised that the number that came up was his big sister's phone.  Little Blue Bunny explained that Lila lost phone privileges when:
1. She didn't notice that Snow, their little bunny sister, took the new twins, Chester and Pinella, out of their crib.
2.  Snow dragged the twins around the house on a blanket.
3.  Snow knocked down their mother's easel, almost hitting Chester.

So cute! Snow (in the middle) with Chester (left) and Pinella (right).

Needless to say, when Nutsa (Mom) heard the easel crash, she ran in to find Lila on the phone.  The phone was confiscated.

Lila had a problem.  How could she let people know that she lost phone privileges and wasn't just ignoring them?

Enter LBB.  Lila offered LBB money to answer her phone.

AND as soon as LBB got his sister's phone, he diverted all calls from HIS phone to HER phone.

Well, that was quite a story but when we went to visuals we could not believe what we imagined we saw.

This is an earlier experiment with makeup.  We didn't get photos this time.

LBB's face was covered with brown stuff and his ears were rolled up so they looked like little nubs on his head.

"What if one of Lila's friends wants to Facetime?" LBB asked.

"What if?"  I told him.  "You are not supposed to  BE Lila.  You are just letting her friends know she can't use her phone."

"Oh", LBB seemed a bit upset. "I didn't think of that."

"Nana!" Dee pointed at my palm.  "What's that stuff on the table?"

"Well?"  We waited for LBB to explain.

His explanation was in-cred-i-ble.  You see...the makeup he used did not stay on his face.  So he decided to make slime.  Yep. Slime.  He tried a bunch of colors, too.  Pink, orange, green - GREEN? -

"Making slime is so much fun!"  Little Blue Bunny laughed.

We told him to clean himself up.  So he scampered off to the powder room.

At this point, Dee used HER palm phone to call Nutsa and Nutsa - who was busy with the babies - had to come into the kitchen to find that LBB spilled slime EVERYWHERE.  There were tiny slimey footprints on the floor into the dining room - ON THE RUG.  Slime poured down the sides of the counter onto the cabinets.  Dee had a hard time coming up with just the right word.  Not dripping, not pouring, ROARING - like a waterfall.

Nutsa was HORRIFIED. LBB had used up all my brand new clear school glue.

By this time, we reached the music store.

When we called LBB back after Dee's lesson - which went very well, by the way  - that's when we saw the slime cascading over the sides of the counter. (Now, why didn't we think of that word yesterday?) LBB promised that he would buy me more glue.  Nutsa took away the money his sister paid him for answering her phone.

"You are her brother."  Nutsa scolded.  "You should do things like that as a favor.  I am ashamed of you for taking money."

So, here is the breakdown of consequences:
A. Nutsa was NOT upset with Lila or LBB for letting LBB answer Lila's phone.  Nutsa understands that communications are very important to teens and it is only polite to let people know why you are not answering their texts.

B. Nutsa WAS angry that money changed hands.  Family should help family.  Also, if Lila had asked her, Nutsa would have put an automatic reply on Lila's phone.

C. Nutsa WAS FURIOUS with Little Blue Bunny's make-up/slime escapade.  She promised that everything would be spic and span when I got home.

D. Nutsa WAS very angry with Lila fro neglecting her Big Sisterly babysitting duties.  Lila might not get her phone back for awhile.

E. Snow got time out.  But she's just a preschooler and very excited not to be the youngest anymore, so, her Mom went easy on her.

The trip from Dee's house to our house only takes about 10 minutes.  Believe it or not, our house looked just fine when we got home.  AND somehow or other, LBB managed to replace my clear school glue, too.

This post reminds me that I haven't told you all the fun stuff that happened this Fall - stuff like..
1. Nutsa's gender reveal party when we found out she was having TWINS!!!
2.  Our making the twins out of pink, yellow and blue pompoms and scraps of fake fur.  They are so cute.
3. The delivery!
4.  Little Blue Bunny's very close brush with matrimony to a LEOPARD.

It was THAT close.

Fodder for another post or two or three.

PS:  I want to assure you that I do NOT come up with ideas like "gender reveal parties" and "matrimony".  All those ideas come from Dee's amazing imagination.

Hey, Kiddo - on sale Oct. 9th - Order today.

Update:  On Goodreads, the date mentioned for publication is September 25th.  I mistakenly assumed that was the correct date.  Not.  October 9th is the publication date for this book.

I met Jarrett J. Krosoczka years ago when he visited the little library for which I worked.  (Grammar lovers, you are welcome.)  His picture book, Annie Was Warned, had just come out.  He stopped by the library, spoke to a bunch of kids and did some line drawings - 15 years ago.

With his Lunch Lady series, Krosoczka has achieved Kid Book Author stardom.

Now, Krosoczka enters a whole new arena of book greatness - the graphic memoir*.  Krosoczka's Hey, Kiddo recounts his childhood and teen years being raised by his grandparents.  His relationship with his mother is strained, and geographically challenged, since she spends most of his life in treatment or prison for drugs and addiction. Kroscozka met his father when he was in late high school. His grandparents, though loving and supportive, are by no means perfect.

As trying as Krosoczka's childhood was, this graphic memoir wins at telling the story in a matter-of-fact voice.  This was his normal.  For many, many children, this kind of fragmented family life IS normal. The story is painful to read and, yet, it reflects the confusion that pervades childhood.  The questions are always the same; who am I? where am I going? what am I good at?  In a family like Krosoczka's, the answers are so much harder to achieve.

The message that family comes from the people who give you support makes this book a triumph.    Always, no matter how acid mouthed his grandmother could be, no how many secrets his grandfather kept from him, they honored his talents and helped him flourish.

One virtue this book offers its readers is hope - hope that by staying in school, by following their talents, they can do okay.  And then there is forgiveness.  In the end, Jarrett forgave his Mom and his Dad and his grandparents - for being human. 

Hey, Kiddo has been longlisted for the National Book Award.  It's on sale soon.  Buy a copy.  Read every page.  It's all good.

*BTW, this is not a book for young readers.  The language reflects how teenage boys sometimes speak.   There are scenes of illegal activities and sexual behavior - though never shown in detail.

LBB Reviews - Sputnik!

Whoa!  That Sputnik guy!  Him, I like.  Sputnik's Guide to Life on Earth by Frank Cotrell Boyce.

So, here's the set up.  Prez is the human kid and he doesn't talk - out loud - because, um, something about his grandfather going somewhere and he's living with people who are not related to him.  Toys are related to everyone so this was hard for me to wrap my stuffing around.  But, let's just say, he's lonely.

So, one night at dinner, the doorbell rings and the family doesn't hear it - just Prez - BECAUSE, get this!  There is no doorbell.   Wha-a-a-T??!!

Prez goes to the door and there's this little "kid" with a backpack and he's wearing a kilt because it's all in Scotland and this little kid answers everything Prez thinks.

I know!  But that is just the beginning!

The family thinks the "kid" is a DOG!  An adorable, irresistible dog!

At this point, I am all "What is going on here????" But, the "kid" is an alien - from another planet. AND his name is Sputnik AND Prez is his "project" which means Sputnik is here to help Prez with his grandfather and loneliness and not talking-ness. 

So a lot happens:
1. a toy light saber gets turned into a REAL light saber.
2.  A tree is destroyed.
3.  A tree is undestroyed.
4.  the remote control goes crazy and changes time and people
5.  robbery with menaces, I think.
6. disappearances.
7. running aways
8. a daring rescue
9.  Some lying
10. the threat of world wide destruction

And lots of other normal kid book stuff.

But that Sputnik guy!  Don't tell him to fix something because he FIXES it all right.  He just goes off and does his ET alien-y thing with all the trimmings. 

He is a person without limits - just like me.

You want to read this book.

Little Blue Bunny, here, signing off.

Busy, busy, busy

I started Kelly Corrigan's The Middle Place last Spring.  I didn't finish it because I was afraid it would be sad.  I do not want to imagine a world without my Dad.  I didn't want to read about Kelly's bout with cancer and her father's illness.  I wanted to pretend these things could never happen.  Now, I hope I can find the book, because, now, my Dad has cancer, too, and once upon a time, so did I.   It might be helpful to read about how someone else navigated different doctors and different schedules and long stretches in the chemo "infusion suite" and long distance calls with brothers and sisters.

My Dad's always told us that life is an adventure.  This is an new adventure, a new challenge, and God willing, we will all get to the other side, wave cheerily to those earnest oncologists and march, hand in hand in hand in hand...(it's a big family) off into the sunset.  We might be singing, too, Tell Me Why in harmony.  It's what we do.

My Mom and Dad, at least 10 years ago.

I have a stack of books to share with you!  HUGE! But this weekend is the Lehigh Valley Monthly Meeting (Quakers) Craft Fair, of which I am the coordinator-ish person AND my daughter-in-law's baby shower, of which I am the hostess.  So I am busy, busy, busy so so so so busy.  (Oh and my husband's birthday.  Poor guy doesn't get much of one this year.)

And Peter, your prize may have to wait a day or two because I have misplaced Darth Paper. If I had a name that told people what I did, it would be Loses Books.  Sigh.  It was promised.  It will be delivered.