Nomad

The Story Isn't Yet Written

2012-01-24T10:03:00.001-07:00

Though I have a lot of thoughts I would like to share (most of whichoriginated with listening to the FAIR podcast over the last few weeks), I willnarrow the focus here in an attempt to get these thoughts out so I can move onto my homework!

At the temple on Saturday I saw a woman at her locker who was very obviously pregnant. She asked me for a favor and when I said yes, she turnedaround and asked if I would zip up her dress. I chuckled and said that I wouldand asked her how far along she was.

"32 weeks. It might be my last time here for a while."

"In this dress, I think you are right!" We both laughed as Iwrenched the zipper and she explained that she was having a third boy. Iempathized and as I finished zipping I noticed a large-ish, faded, though oncebrightly-colored tattoo between this sister's shoulder blades. Her temple dressjust barely covered it. She smiled, thanked me, and moved on.

And it was at that moment that I learned what I was meant to learn in thetemple that day. When Sister Preggers got that tattoo a decade or so ago shewas likely in a very different place in her life. Perhaps she'd never heard ofthe gospel and was just doing what all of her friends were doing; perhaps she'dbeen a member all her life and this was an act of desperate rebellion; perhapsher mother cried her eyes out when she saw the tattoo wondering if her daughterwould ever come back the fold . . . . there are many possible scenarios.However, it is probably safe to say that she wasn't thinking/didn't care aboutwhat the prophets have counseled in the last 15 years regarding tattoos andpiercings, nor how her Heavenly Father might feel about her marking her bodythat way.

But it occurred to me that even if there was sorrow among those who lovedher at the moment of her marking herself in her rebellion, that it doesn'tmatter now. Her temple dress handily covered the outward manifestation and hercovenants have taken care of the inward decisions that drove her to it. When wewillingly come to Christ, the atonement can take care of everything. But unlikethe temple dress, the atonement doesn't just cover the sins, itobliterates them.

And I realized something else: the story isn't yet written on any of us. A tattoomight mark the body, but there are other, darker things that mar the soul.Things that only Christ in his mercy can root out; only His grace can make usnew people with changed hearts and willing hands. My story isn't yet writtenfor good or bad. Just as I'm engraven upon His palms, I want His admonition andlove and healing sacrifice written in the fleshy tablets of my heart. I wantHis words written on me. His countenance in mine. My hands to be His hands.

Openly and In Secret

2012-01-16T14:45:00.003-07:00

A couple of things this weekend have turned my mind to deeper thinking about prayer. The first is a conversation that may have likewise occurred at your house this week. Tim Tebow has certainly become a household name here, not least because my husband is a Broncos fan from way back, but also because he might be an actual anomaly: the man who seems to have it all and still wants to put God first.

My dad has followed this young man's career for some time and became an instant Broncos fan two years ago for his recruitment there. I was less enthusiastic, as I am about most things related to pro football, and never gave him much thought until I saw him on John Stewart during this year's NFL lockout. I was blown away. Self-deprecating. Candid. Smart. Unflappable. And, well, he projected an aura of humility that is utterly disarming in a person of his standing and with his fame. I came away from the interview thinking, "This is guy might be the real deal." Even Stewart seemed fazed by his genuine and magnetic niceness.

Fast-forward to the non-lockout part of the NFL season. A couple of Sundays ago, I happened to be in the Denver airport, where many down-in-the-mouth Denver fans in full fan-gear lamented that no "miracle" had happened that week. And I found myself rooting for the young man who puts God in the center of his life even when it would be so easy to put himself there. And yes, for the Broncos too. It makes Plantboy happy when they win and I like my man happy.

Don't get me wrong, I'm certainly not one of these folks who thinks that God is a Broncos fan. (I think there is plenty about professional football and its cultural accompaniments that He would love to see go away entirely.) I do, however, think He is probably a Tim Tebow fan. Isn't He always on our side when we attempt to do what is good and right and persuade others to follow? Doesn't He want young people to have a role model who is more likely to point to the Savior than to himself?

Plantboy and I, in a role reversal for us, have different opinions. Plantboy is skeptical . . . particularly in Tebow's claims of chastity. He also patently disapproves of Tebow's public "tebowing." As he pointed out the other day--aren't we to pray privately? And, as the scriptures say, God who sees in private will reward in open? I'm not so sure. I think there is something refreshing about such a display of public devotion. If it disconcerts me then perhaps I am the one who needs to rethink my level of commitment.

On to the next topic, which is closer to home and much closer to my heart. Last night we showed the boys the movie 17 Miracles. I hadn't seen it so I wasn't quite prepared for the level of "disaster peril" in which the characters would be placed. It was a very emotional experience for all of us. My four year-old was a little bit less enamored (it was largely over his head) and at one point he asked my teary-eyed seven year old, "Why are you so sad?" Padawan looked at him and said, "Sometimes you can have a happy cry." I think it was his way of describing the Spirit, for he wasn't particularly happy at that moment. Nor was he sad. I think he was in that area where your emotions are so profound and unexplainable they just leak out your eyes.

At bedtime, Plantboy asked Padawan if he would pray for us. I always enjoy Padawan's prayers. He rarely repeats. Each phrase is deliberate and carefully thought out. His prayers are actually relevant to what is happening in our lives. And he does this without prompting. Last night, however, Plantboy did prompt him to remember the pioneers in his prayer. We all bowed heads and there was a very long pause. Padawan's tender seven year-old voice was infused with emotion throughout his simple prayer. He didn't specifically pray for the pioneers, though I could tell from the "happy cry" he had going on that he was thinking about them. He said at one point, "We are thankful for the Spirit. Help us to remember who we are . . . and who we are meant to be." The last phrase was slow, deliberate and almost whispered.

It isn't phrasing I've ever used. The idea was original, or at least originated from the Spirit he was feeling. I marveled at the gift of this little spirit in our home, and prayed that I would know who he is and who he is meant to be. God surely will hear his prayers in secret and reward him openly.

These thoughts led me this morning to the place where I'm ready to choose my goals for the year. Some time ago (18 months?) I posted about a visit that Elder Whitney Clayton made to our area. He was at a meeting for Stake Presidents where I was serving. In an effort to keep the noise down during his talk, they asked the kitchen folks to refrain from washing dishes until he was done. He then asked us to join the group. It was a unique opportunity to be tutored intimately by a man so close to the apostles. As the church grows, no doubt such experiences will become more and more rare. I listened very carefully, and in a talk filled with wisdom and love and good humor, there was one moment that stood out to me above all others.

I will paraphrase Elder Clayton now. He said that there was no way that the councils of the Church could ever hold enough meetings to address the needs of those in the stake/ward/Church/etc. There are just too many problems. Real problems. However, he pointed out, the Lord could take care of those needs and use our service where He needed it the most if we were in tune enough to know what He needed us to do. To that end, Elder Clayton counseled, we must do everything we can to have the guidance of the Holy Ghost in our lives. He gave just three suggestions for keeping the Spirit daily in our lives:

1. Maintain and nourish your relationship with your spouse.
2. Read the scriptures regularly. Daily if possible.
3. Pray regularly. More than once daily if possible.

This will be the framework for what I want in 2012. I am ridiculously busy and over-committed right now. However, I don't know yet what might be cut out. That is another long story, but suffice it to say that my current commitments need to continue for at least a while longer. There is no way for me to accomplish what is needed without additional help. Divine help. There is no way for me to logic my way into the decisions that we will need to make in the next couple of years. Ephiphany, as has been given in the past, is the only thing that will show me the way forward. Seldom in my life have I felt so keenly the need for spiritual guidance. It has not been forthcoming. It is time for me to take ownership over that state of affairs.

This year I will:

1. Maintain and nourish the relationships within my immediate family. I will continue all those good things I have going with Plantboy (the one place in my life I feel truly successful). I will encourage my boys to be each others' best friends and I will foster an atmosphere of trust and love in my relationships with them.

2. I will work out a regular scripture reading plan, including making time to study the Book of Mormon regularly with a recently baptized friend who is heading to the temple later this spring. She is shy and still adjusting to Mormon culture. Our study times, when we get them, are marvelously valuable to both of us. I will not let this opportunity go.

3. I will learn to pray like my seven year old. Sincerely. With the spirit filling my heart and mind with just the right words. I will pray more often.

I'll check in from time to time. I'm grateful to those of you who are still along for the journey. I have lately felt rather a dearth of sincere friendship.

Ephiphany

2012-01-10T10:42:00.000-07:00

I've spent the last week digging out from being on vacation the week between Christmas and New Year's. The holiday was nice and it was very good to see so much family in Denver, but coming home was a bit rough. Walking into the house with a car load of immediate to-deal-withs (at 2 a.m., no less), only to remember that, because we left on the twenty-fifth, the house looks like a Christmas Bomb exploded in the living room. We watched the Rose Bowl from behind a two hundred pound pile of laundry. Good times.

An now life begins again. One of my classes started yesterday; the other today. This is, of course, in addition to all the other things we do. So, like you, I am busy. I am not sure that my time off from school was the recharge I had hoped. Though there was much time to relax and sleep over our week's vacation, the time leading up to vacation was punctuated by too much commitment, very cold weather, and a ridiculous share of illness. Every year I say that I will . . . I don't know. . . simplify? So that the Christmas season might be more spirit-filled. This year I found it nearly impossible to do so without letting every one down--a thing that is entirely against my nature. After my initial burst of warm fuzzies and delightful memories, the next four weeks flew by in a flurry of survival-mode living.

Taylor Swift has a holiday song titled, "Christmas Must Be Something More."

You see that the day holds something special
Something holy, not superficial
So here's to Jesus Christ
Who saved our lives . . .

I can't help but feel that it is another Christmas lost instead of one gained. I hope not to lose the next season too. Maybe two early January events will help me. The first is the inevitable review of the goals from last year and the setting of new. You'll have to pardon the seeming sarcasm--I really do believe in the setting and renewing of goals and find that it is a good exercise for me. The "inevitable" bit is just self-deprecating. If you have been reading here for a while then you know to predict certain things.

Here is last year's list (bold) with an overview of how I did.

1. I will balance my Mary and Martha tasks so that I gain a good measure of both internal and external peace on a daily basis. I did better with this. When school and church gets really busy it becomes more difficult. I still like this goal a lot, but I'm starting to wonder if Sister Mary didn't have it right after all. My current calling is overwhelming in ways I would have never anticipated and I think that without a closer connection to the Spirit then I just don't have a chance of keeping my head above water.

2. I will have meaningful prayer at least once daily. I'm a work in progress. Very slow progress, but at least I think it is forward.

3. I will continue my current course of scripture study, at least 5 days each week, and earn my Personal Progress Award along with my study. Still trying. I need to take a closer look at my schedule and determine the quietest part of each day and fill it with this.

4. I will spend less time on the computer social networking, and more time writing. By fall I want to have two manuscripts (one unfinished and one in need of heavy revision) ready to send to a publisher. I did spend my computer time more productively, in general, but my schooling started up earlier, and perhaps more intensely, than anticipated. I fell short of my manuscript goal. I have to admit to taking some discouragement from my reviewers. Some of my drive is gone. I'm not sure what this means for the next step forward.

5. I will spend less time reading and more time exercising. Yes, really. A friend and I are trying to put together a group to run a 200 mile race in August in central Oregon. If it doesn't pan out, we still want to do a half marathon in Portland in May. How do you put a raspberry sound into writing? PBBPTTTHHH!! After a fantastic start to the year, things fell apart quickly. We couldn't collect enough racers. Then I got sick (and everyone else did too!) and my careful routines disintegrated. Between my husband and I, church obligations ballooned and I didn't anticipate just how difficult my paper route would make a regular exercise regimen. Is that enough excuses? It is all I have.

6. I will study my options and apply for colleges this spring; I will then decide by fall whether or not I'm actually enrolling. One goal, done.

My 2012 list is forthcoming. I want to really think about it this year.

But on to the title, finally. Epiphany is a word I love. When I think of this word, I think of having a moment of inspiration or insight. It is not a bad way to describe a sudden and sometimes unexpected, spiritual experience. My desk calendar had the word "Epiphany" written in tiny script above the date last Friday--the place in the calendar reserved for holidays. I looked it up and, sure enough, Epiphany is a Christian holiday celebrated in Eastern Orthodoxy. It is to honor the magi coming to visit the Christ child. But the word comes from a Greek word with a more religious definition than I have ever ascribed to it, "manifestation or striking appearance" and is closely related to the word theophany, which is a manifestation of some deity to a person. (Joseph Smith's first vision is sometimes referred to as the Theophany.)

When I saw that word in my planner, I felt my heart leap in my chest. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a day set aside to receive a marvelous moment of spiritual insight. Almost like it was part of my to-do list. "Friday, I AM having an epiphany!"

But of course it didn't work that way. And it doesn't work that way.

As I think about my goals this year, I think this idea (ideal?) of epiphany is going to figure prominently. Never in my life have I needed the guidance of the Spirit so much. And yet, I know that I am not doing the things necessary to receive the regular manifestations that will keep me moving forward and allow me to serve to the degree I have been asked. Maybe my first step will be to write "epiphany" on my calendar every day, to keep my mind on the things of God.

It isn't just Christmas that must be something more.

So Tired

2011-12-21T12:20:00.001-07:00

I hope that when we are on vacation next week my excellent mother-in-law's feelings aren't hurt when I sleep until ten every morning.

2011-12-13T12:35:00.003-07:00

Here is is. Time once again for the year end book review. Truthfully my list is a bit pathetic this year. Repeats. Kids' books and lots of audio books. Going back to school fully and completely slammed me. Even now, on break, I'm not entirely certain I'm going to be able to rest enough to properly gear up for next semester. Of course, getting slammed with my second massive head cold in like three weeks isn't exactly helping either.

I also did not get around to reading your recommendations from last year. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I've actually always hated that idiom. I have loads of good intentions. Good actions, too, I hope, but my ambition seems to nearly always outstrip either my capabilities or the logistics of a normal life. In order to give myself one less thing to feel guilty about this year I am NOT going to ask for your recommendations for next year. I have no doubt whatsoever that they will be wonderful, but I hope they will keep.

These books are presented most recently read backwards to January.

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever: Reviewed best at Nemesis this weekend. I love this book. I laugh and cry every time. This was the first year I read it to my kids. We all loved it.
Granta 116: Granta is quarterly journal published in England. I might have mentioned it before? Anyway, every three months this volume comes to my house. And yes, it is technically a periodical, but at each issue being a whopping 200 pages, I'm totally counting it as a book. Hey, it is my list. Granta 116 was called "Ten Years Later" and was filled with stories of post-9/11 living. The shocking thing was that most of this stories were written by non-Americans, mostly living in places besides America. One of my gripes with Granta is that there is no explanation of which pieces are fiction and which are personal essay. I think there is a reason for that--after all, there probably is a fine line between truth and fiction when it comes to learning and teaching bold statements about the human condition. If I didn't already have pacifist leanings before, this collection of stories and essays sealed the deal for me. I still want to write that post about America's lost decade. These essays also demonstrate that when we think of American loss, it is such a drop in the bucket compared to the whole pantheon of human suffering. This year's fourth issue of Granta is still sitting in my bathroom, the topic is "Horror." It might sit for a while longer!
Little Men: I rediscovered Louisa May Alcott this year because I found a series of Librovox recordings in iTunes carrying all of her works. This was my fourth of the year and it was probably one (or two) too many. I loved Alcott as a kid, and now I think she is maybe just a little too precious. In her books, only the good die; all the lost boys are redeemed; and Jo can witticism her way out of any scrape. Still, the characters are rather endearing and she just writes about such good, Puritan values; I do wish that more young people would tackle Alcott. It would be good for them. This novel, like her others, seems more like a series of anecdotes only tenuously strung together by a very simple plot.
The Distant Hours: This book was a great Gothic piece to read in October. My book group did it and the discussion was fantastic. If you are looking for something for your next book group that is a little more page turning, a little more tantalizing, and a little less literary than your usual fare, then this might be just the thing. Oh, don't get me wrong, it is still pretty clean and quite well-written, but it is rather a juicy page-turner. World War II. England. Secrets. Big old castle. A really, really good-looking mystery man. Oh yeah.
Hunger Games: This book hit the list a long time ago because I was reading it chapter by chapter with a tutoring student. Laborious, yes, but it gave me time to really think about it. This was my second reading and I think I enjoyed it even more this time. I caught the subtleties I had missed the first time in the jarring non-stop action of the plot. This was a really great book group discussion and I think I'll probably re-read the series now.
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society: Also a re-read for book group. I reviewed this last year. Lovely and wonderful.
Sylvester (The Wicked Uncle): I love this book. The author is Georgette Heyer and everything she writes is delicious. Her period pieces focus on Regency England and are hilarious. This book is about a hapless young maiden (of course) who, after a disastrous first season out in London, writes a wickedly clever novel parodying everybody in "The Ton." Through a random series of events she comes into contact with her novel's villain just before publication. Naturally she falls in love with him. Naturally. A delight.
Rose in Bloom: Another Alcott title. It is hard to seperate this one from the next, as it is basically a sequel and very little time passes in between. Alcott had very clear ideas about what womanhood should look like and some very definite opinions about the type of education it took to churn out such women. This is a recurring theme in her books.
Eight Cousins: This book reminded me of The Secret Garden in some ways. Both books are really based on the premise that lots of fresh air and exercise and positive thinking can change everything. Not a bad thought really, but I found the eternal optimism in both books a little bit on the annoying side. As for Eight Cousins, again, it is more anecdotal than plot-driven. In that way, it reminded me more of the Anne books.
The Confession: John Grisham hit another slam dunk in my mind with this one. His early novels are page turners because of their intense and often unexpected plots. His characters, even the barest sketches, are always spot on and just fascinating. The last few books I've read still demonstrate that gift for pacing and characterization, but thematically they are just so rich. Grisham forces the reader to ask piercing questions about the judiciary and political systems that determine so much of what happens in our country. In this particular novel he is intensely critical of the death penalty system. What makes the case so compelling is that our death row inmate is actually innocent.
Their Eyes Were Watching God: This is a beautifully written and heart-rending novel by Zora Neale Hurston. Reading her own historical background in the edition I had helped immensely in trying to ferret out what this book is really about. This book is about freedom--for women, for African Americans, from repression. It is about hanging on to the things that are the most beautiful and taking the loveliness of nature deep inside you and making it a part of who you are. Thematically the book was ahead of its time. Spurnned by critics when published in 1937 and then left out of print for nearly 30 years, it is clear that folks had to do a lot of growing up before they were ready for this book.
Little Women: Alcott's best work, in my mind. Her character focus is narrower than in the earlier reviewed books and the story holds together a little bit better. I still can't believe Jo doesn't marry Laurie, however. I'm not quite sure the author even got over it; in Little Men (which takes place five or six years after the end of this book) Laurie, as benefactor to the Plumfield School often comes to visit. He and Jo are as affectionate as best friends and probably rather moreso than married and unrelated grown-ups should be. If I was the German professor I think I'd want to pop Laurie one. I will say, however, that the European section of the book is much more deliberate than the movie and the Laurie-Amy romance is not quite so sudden or unbelievable.
Among the Hidden: Jedi Knight read this for Oregon Battle of the Books. (Or OBOB. The next few also.) It is an interesting plot, though maybe a bit old for my nine year old, even if his reading tastes are a bit precocious. It wasn't too hard for him to read; it was short and quite easy, but thematically there are a some difficult issues. It is about illegal third-born children who have to hide so they and their parents aren't killed. It ended rather abruptly with only the barest resolution.
Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher: Another OBOB title. Stupid. JK Rowling really put a lot of other kids' fantasy books to shame. Jedi Knight liked it okay, but that isn't a huge recommendation!
Earthquake Terror: Also OBOB. This is kind of a sweet, though highly improbable, survival story about a brother and sister. I feel like in some ways the author spent a very long time mapping out exactly how to get these kids stranded, alone, in the woods, after an earthquake. Not as much time was spent in figuring out what to do next. Another abrupt ending.
Number the Stars: OBOB. A wonderful way for younger children to first learn about the Holocaust. Much easier to read than Anne Frank, based on true events, and with plot elements just scary enough to instruct and hold interest without terrifying. A brilliant little novel. Winner of the Newbery around 1990.
The Last Newspaper Boy in America: Another OBOB title. This is a great book for boys. The main character is clever and funny and creative. The plot is rather improbable, but is a good way to explore current events. I really enjoyed reading this aloud with my son.
Granta 115: The summer Granta was about feminism. My own feminism post this summer was probably an outgrowth of thinking about what I'd read. I also wrote a personal essay I'm quite happy with in relation to this issue. If anybody is interested in having a copy, please let me know.
Foxmask: This book is by one of my favorite authors, but was a new read for me. It is a sequel to the next title down. I don't think I connected to this particular set of characters quite as well as to another series I've read by the author. Although her fantasy-romance telling is always good value, I have found her novels have generally gone downhill. I found myself not caring nearly as much about the fates of these characters as others. A little bit too much love at first sight in this one. She also left a couple of her characters kind of hung out to dry. I think it probably guarantees a third installment. *sigh* One last note about the author--I am impressed with the way that just as many of her female characters are domestic and motherly as they are tough and adventuresome. She really demonstrates that there is no one way to be a woman who is both good and strong.
Wolfskin: I read this book first a few years ago. I remember devouring it in one sitting. I was even working full-time as a teacher (with two little kids!) at the time and still stayed up until 3 am in the middle of the week to finish it. Very stupid. After all, I had more days ahead of me and then I had nothing to read. So is it a page-turner, yes, of course. Marrillier excels at putting her characters in impossible situations and then getting them out. She loves rescues. And though her women are very strong, she can't quite get over the romance of the damsel in distress.
Getting Things Done: I had to read this for a class over the summer. Pretty much hated it from the beginning, but what really sealed the deal for me was when the author's sample "to-do" list had the following bullet point, "decide what to do with million dollar inheritance." What the? At first I thought he was being facetious, but other items in the book made me think otherwise. The only good pointer I took from this book was never to have more e-mail in the "inbox" than can be viewed on one-screen. I haven't let my g-mail account go over 50 since reading that and I've actually been a much better e-mailer (word?) because of it.
First Things First: I didn't dislike this quite as much as Getting Things Done, but almost. Also read for a class. I just am not a big fan of self-help books.
The Last Olympian: A Percy Jackson book. I will review all five of these under the first "The Lightning Thief," although about this one I would like to say that the choice of the last Olympian was a pleasant and touching surprise.
Saving Cee Cee Honeycutt: My mom loaned me this one, which is not always a good thing. I had mixed feelings about this title. She told me that it reminded her of "The Secret Life of Bees." I think the comparison is apt, though this book isn't nearly as good. I really liked some things about it. Others were just really tacky . . . and one of the tacky things was, admittedly, laugh out loud funny. I find I like books about the South better after having lived there. In these books, the heat becomes a character. That was something I never understood until I spent nearly 6 summers in Houston.
The Battle of the Labyrinth: A Percy Jackson book. I will review all five of these under the first "The Lightning Thief."
The Star Garden: Oh, dear. What to do with this book? This and the next reviewed are sequels to the rather excellent "These is My Words." The diary format isn't consistently carried through these two books though it is supposed to be; the voice is much stronger in the first. I think a major problem with the series as a whole is that she got rid of Jack at the end of the first book. The love story of these two is such a major part of the first book that some of the heart is sucked out of the other two, leaving Sarah harder than ever. Some of the border dispute issues are interesting, but they end in such dreadful violence that I felt quite depressed. Most of the reviews I've read, however, have nothing but praise for all three volumes. My take? Meh.
Sarah's Quilt: I felt like there were major plot holes and inconsistencies in character. There were issues from the first book that were just left dangling and could have been better resolved in the second and third books and they just weren't. I would have certainly liked a better resolution of Sarah's relationships with her daughter, for one. The whole Lazarus character was confusing and disconcerting to me. As with the above, there is a plot line that ends in some rather horrific violence that I just felt was unnecessary.
The Good Earth: I chose this for book group back in April. It is a remarkable book, and a clear definition of a true classic. The simplicity of the story and Buck's language belie just how much depth is to be uncovered here. This is a book to read and then talk about and then feel changed by.
The Titan's Curse: A Percy Jackson book. I will review all five of these under the first "The Lightning Thief."
A Wrinkle in Time: Another book group pick. I knew I went out on a limb for this one; it wasn't very well-received. Whatever. This was probably the first book I remember really loving and read my first copy into an early grave. This was the book that unlocked fantasy for me and helped me to think about the universe and spirituality in terms bigger than anything I could imagine on my own. It is so wonderful.
Granta 114: This particular Granta was called "Aliens" and was about people who end up living in a different place than where they were born or raised, and their experiences in the foreign place. Good stuff. But like all the Grantas I've read: some of the pieces are wonderful and other pieces are just rubbish. Don't think I'll be renewing.
Of Mice and Men: Again, the simplicity of this story, its characters and the coarseness of its language is deceptive. This little novel speaks to many aspects of the human condition, and it will probably never run out of things to say. Another true classic.
The Sea of Monsters: A Percy Jackson book. I will review all five of these under the first "The Lightning Thief."
House of Mirth: Depressing as hell. But then, it is Edith Wharton, so maybe that goes without saying? I am really glad that I read this as a book group title because I think the discussion is pretty essential to having a good experience with this book.
The Lightning Thief: This is a very original kids' book series. Just like the slough of Harry Potter knock-offs from a few years ago, this series has been much copied in recent years. (The author is even capitalizing on his own success with a second series that is only marginally different.) The first book uses the formula of two guy friends and a girl, appealing to both male and female readers. However, throughout the other books, this formula is sometimes shaken up so that Percy (the main character) takes each quest with a new assortment of characters. Other successful elements from the Harry Potter stories pop up here, but the context is so new and the writing so funny that the stories are really great on their own. Though not as brilliant or with the depth of the Potter books, I think it is safe to say that the Percy Jackson books will be a mainstay in children's literature for years to come. The same cannot be said of the movie franchise. Loads of mistakes were made in the plotting and casting of this movie (including kids that were way to old to begin with), and a sequel would be nearly impossible. In addition, these books were aimed mostly at tweens, but the movie is a terribly scary PG and was way too much for my little kids.
The Associate: Though not as political charged as The Confession or The Appeal, Grisham has plenty to say about the ridiculous lenghts companies will go to in order to defend lawsuits. In the end, only the lawyers stand to benefit. Not the public. Not the corporations themselves. If we need an answer for why products are so slow to come to market and so expensive when they do . . . There is also some discussion of mistakes we make when we are young coming back to haunt us later on.
Cry, The Beloved Country: This is one of my very favorite books, and two recent readings were both in the context of book groups. The first was wonderful, the second not so much. In this book, I see the author essentially on the side of the Black South Africa as he casts blame upon the White minority for their indifference and calculated oppression. He is pleading with his countrymen to find a better solution and a new way forward. Our discussion devolved into the question of how poor people need to better help themselves, with one woman sitting next to me even pulling out the word "Negro." Really. In 2011. I nearly fell of the couch. Our lovely host that night seemed a bit disappointed. She had much she wanted to discuss, I could tell, and the conversation got rather away from her. I have also read this book just because I like it, on several occasions. Some people say it is hard to get through, but I don't see it. The rhythmic language and flowing style are remarkable and lovely. The intro to my book said that Alan Paton wrote the book while he was touring the world speaking on educational reform. He had just read "The Grapes of Wrath" before he left. He wrote this manuscript every night in his hotel room. What a fascinating paper would result from a combined analysis of both texts.
A Short History of Nearly Everything: I actually read about half of this book before the end of last year and I believe I reviewed it there. This book is delightful.
Madame Bovary: I actually read about half of this book before the end of last year and I believe I reviewed it there. This book is much less than delightful.

That brings my total to 38 (or 37 and two halves). Not my best showing. Noteven close. But there are more years and more books. My anticipated titles thisyear are The House at Riverton, The Help, Grapes of Wrath, The Warmth of OtherSuns and Left to Tell. Of course, I am hoping for many more books to happen myway also. Maybe it is, as Juliet says in "The Guernsey Literary and PotatoPeel Pie Society," maybe books have a way of honing in on their perfectreaders. May 2012 be the year you find your perfect book.

Party!

2011-12-10T14:02:00.001-07:00

Done. Lovely. A good turn out--certainly as much as my house could handle anyway. Everything was nearly perfect. The cider was an especial hit. Recipes later. Right now I'm going to take a nap!

On Having Faith

2011-12-08T21:20:00.001-07:00

The thing that makes the fiction writings of C.S. Lewis so brilliant is that he is never merely telling a story. He is sharing an allegory, that if carefully read, will give any reader a deeper sense of wonder and faith. Scripture "stories" are great at this too. It is what makes C.S. Lewis (can your really say just "Lewis?" and who names their baby Clive?) classic and highly readable year in and year out.

I love the movies too. The screenwriters have taken Lewis' rather simple stories and pulled out the parts that will translate best to film and extrapolated them into broad action sequences. They have addressed questions of children torn from parents during the Second World War in a way even C.S. Lewis didn't. After all, when the books were first published, the war was over just a few years and maybe people weren't yet asking about the effect of children being sent away yet. It was such a fact of British life that it maybe didn't seem noteworthy in characterizing the Pevensie children. So although it is a wonderful and well-portrayed device in the movies, it wasn't at all the author's intent to tell a war story.

No, he was much more interested in the fate of the soul than the fate of nations. Narnia, as lovely and wonderful a place as it is, was only created as a means to teach Lucy, Edmund, Susan and Peter about the plan of salvation. To teach all of us about it.

The books are all extraordinary, and as I get older I realize more and more just how much scripture is loaded into them. In this post, however, I'd like to turn my thoughts specifically to the volume, Prince Caspian. A few weeks ago on Facebook page, Mike posted this article. The author talks about how crucial decisions made in this novel demonstrate how life's choices can sometimes be cruel . . . that some things are really meant to test our faith and be difficult. Her essay is well-done and her logic is interesting; it would make for a great discussion. But as I pondered it, I found myself thinking about what else C.S. Lewis was trying to do as an author during the part Ms. Welch referenced.

Some quick background on the novel in case it has been some time since you've read it. The four Pevensie children are taken mysteriously back to Narnia only to discover that hundreds and hundreds of years have passed. Their adventures, and even Aslan himself, have passed away into legends and ancient writing. They meet up with a Dwarf who is able to explain--Narnia is in its darkest hour. The rightful king (Caspian) is attempting to lead one final uprising of old Narnians against the usurpers to keep Narnia from losing all its faith and magic forever. He is out numbered and out-strategized. Finding Queen Susan's old horn, they have summoned help from beyond Narnia.

The Dwarf is doubtful that four children will do a lick of good, but he agrees to take them to Prince Caspian and the others. They must go a different way to avoid the enemies, and Peter, who roamed those parts often once-upon-a-time is confident that he can lead them. Only nothing is the same. And time is running out. And nobody thinks the adventure is amounting to much. Then Lucy sees Aslan. She knows that He is beckoning them to follow. The problem is that nobody else sees Him. There is a vote to follow Lucy or to continue following Peter's instincts which make more logical sense than the direction Lucy is proposing. The vote is 3-2. The Dwarf, Peter and Susan agree to Peter's plan. Edmund, who learned his lesson very well, thank you, believes Lucy, though he himself cannot see yet.

Peter's way is a dead-end, and they lose a lot of time. They end going Lucy's direction by default, which, once the initial barrier is overcome, is clearly the way to go. Eventually Edmund, Peter, Susan and even the Dwarf (in that order) see Aslan.

I think that Brother Lewis is trying to teach us about faith, but not necessarily in the way Welch reports in her essay. I think the allegory here is told in each of our five characters:

Lucy. She represents one with deep and abiding faith. Not perfect, however. Aslan reprimands her for not having followed regardless of the others. She insists that she didn't dare split up and then realizes that Aslan is trying to tell her that it would have worked out. When she begs to know if things would have been better or different if she had just followed the first time he chides, "We can never know what might have been, only what could be." Lucy's gift of the spirit is belief.

Edmund. Edmund represents the one whose experiences, not all good, have taught him faith; but, perhaps more importantly have taught him that believing on testimonies of those who believe is also a very important gift. Edmund is fully aware that he doesn't see Aslan, but he'd follow Lucy, the girl-prophet, anywhere. Edmund, though unable to see Aslan right at first, is rewarded with sight for his faith and meets Aslan with a clear conscience.

Peter. This strong oldest brother represents our worker. He wants to get to the battle, to fight for Aslan and Narnia, so he steadfastly plows away into the wilderness, pridefully listening to his own instincts when he doesn't immediately see the hand of God in his enterprise. He put the whole follow-Lucy-thing to a vote because he is fair and honest and loves his sister, but without some kind of proof he wasn't seriously going to follow her. He repents of his pride when he gets over the ridge and sees that oh, yes, Lucy's way really was the best. His apologetic attitude then leads him to his own vision of Aslan, in front of whom he feels deeply humbled.

Susan. Dear Susan. Blessed with skepticism. Susan represents one who lived in the world too much. I think of all the Pevensie children she would be the quickest to chalk up their first Narnian experience to a dream, or a shared make-believe world the children shared. While Narnia was as real to Lucy as England; I think it became less and less real to Susan each passing day. Susan sees Aslan only when the balance of proof tells her that he must be there, only when she allows Narnia to get inside of her again. But, if you read all seven books, you see that it may not be enough. At the end of the Last Battle, Susan's three siblings are taken home to Aslan who transforms before their eyes into an entirely different form, and Susan is left behind.

Trumpkin. While the four children represent differing levels of faith, Trumpkin, our dwarf, represents no faith at all. Though it is safe to say he is more agnostic (indifference to the lack of evidence for things beyond the physical world) than atheistic, he will do very well for this last category. Even in the face of miracles--the return of the children, the finding of their way through the ancient jungle--he refuses to believe in Aslan until he is physically lifted up and shaken and dropped. His reaction is one of abject fear when he first sees the God of his world. Every knee shall bow indeed.

Don't get me wrong, I sincerely appreciate Sister Welch's thoughts. But this is what I'm trying to say about Clive Staples Lewis. His lovely stories carry in them such a wealth of depth and truth than any earnest Christian would be misguided to overlook them. As I've pondered on these thoughts over the last two weeks, I see a little of myself in each character. Except perhaps Lucy. I am like Edmund in that I sometimes have to follow others in faith until I can see for myself, thought lately I've been reminding myself that this is also scripturally given as a gift. I have Peter's sense of duty and work that sometimes gets in the way of what needs to be done. I trudge along, doggedly and earnestly looking for a path without remembering to look up on the ridge and ask God which direction He would have me go. I carry Susan's skepticism for many things in spades. The world blocks my own view of the Lord far too often. I've even had my Trumpkin moments. Though as I get older, I find that cynicism leaching more and more out of me as I try to make room for things that are good and light.

It is a long post, but I finished my semester today and it felt enormously cathartic to write about something not related to the state of American education and its somewhat indifferent pupils. Maybe I'll even get around to reviewing my books next week.

The Menu.

2011-12-01T09:35:00.001-07:00

As mentioned before, next week I'm hosting the ladies in my neighborhood for the annual Christmas cookie exchange. They have been doing this for years and years. Our street does other activities during the year too. It is a very cool neighborhood. The majority of folks are empty nesters, but still pretty young. I imagine that this was quite the happening neighborhood ten years ago when all of them had little rugrats about. Now it is pretty much the Jedi, but everyone has been really kind to us ever since we moved in. In my defense, I did say "yes" to the request because it was between semesters and three months ago and before I was put in the primary presidency. Back in August it seemed so doable. Nine days out . . . not so much.

That's where you come in.

I am going to post the menu here today and you are going to give me some feedback. The prize for helping is that you get to come to the cookie exchange! The airport is just ten minutes from my house and I'm more than happy to come and get you.

The format is an open house sort of luncheon from 11-1. At about 12:45, everybody chooses a few cookies from each platter and then takes them home. So here is my plan:

Meatballs: Purchased at Costco and heated in my crockpot that morning. My sister puts a mixture of BBQ sauce and grape jelly on them which she swears is delicious. I don't know. I don't really love meatballs but I do like things that are easy. These will be very sweet.

Cranberry-Orange Salad: This salad has a yummy homemade poppy seed dressing with mixed greens, cranberries, mandarin oranges, feta and pecans. It is lovely and Christmasy. It is sweet but really tangy also.

Pasta Salad: Bowtie pasta with chopped cucumber, tomato, olives and cilantro. The dressing is a homemade one also--feta cheese, lemon juice, black pepper, purple onion and lots of oregano. Very savory.

Marinated Cheese: Layered cream cheese and cheddar with an Italian dressing marinade that sits for a day. Before serving I dice a little bit of red pepper on the top and some basil ribbons. Served with crackers. Very savory.

Gingerbread: This is my mom's favorite Christmas thing to cook. It is so delicious and fragrant. Her version is dark with molasses and just amazing. Probably served with lemon sauce.

Costco Cream Puffs: Because, honestly, who DOESN'T need one excuse a year to buy these bad boys.

Hot Cider/Wassail: Loved this suggestion. I'll probably use some variation on one of the recipes you comments with.

Lemon Water: For non-cider folks.

As for preparation--the meatballs can easily be thrown together first thing in the morning in about ten minutes. The lettuce salad is a matter of opening a few bags or cans and tossing stuff together because the dressing can be made the day before. The pasta salad parts have to be cold so the noodles, at least can be done ahead. The tomatoes are little and go in whole. The cucumber would need cutting. Again, the dressing can be made ahead of time. The marinated cheese is primarily made ahead of time. If I go with the gingerbread I would want to make it that morning so that the house smells nice.

So what do you think? Do I need another carb? I have lovely homemade rolls that I could do a day ahead of time. They could also be turned into orange rolls, which are totally amazing, but sweeter. Any feedback would be awesome.

As for the cookie I'm exchanging . . . I will either do cookie dough truffles rolled in ganache which can be done several days ahead of time and frozen. Bagging them up for people might be a bit messy. They need to be eaten or refrigerated pretty much right away. My other choice is something more roll-like: hazelnut ringalings or orange rolls which could be more work but the are just so good. And the last option is Russian tea cake cookies. I discovered a wonderful recipe for these last year and I really love them. They could be done the day before.

For decorating, it isn't too hard because I set the house up for Christmas already. I mostly need to move some furniture out the garage in exchange for chairs so there is room for everything. I will do Christmas plates and napkins. For everyone's cookies I will probably put them on the chargers I bought at Walmart at the end of last season for about a quarter apiece. Wrapped will cellophane and a ribbon they will look super festive.

I have no idea how many to expect. Ten to twenty people? I know, helpful, right? Should I have Christmas music playing in the background?

Feedback, folks, please.

The Day After Thanksgiving is Pretty Much Its Own Holiday

2011-11-25T17:47:00.001-07:00

And no. I don't shop.

What I do is spend the morning cleaning like crazy; the lunch hour picking at various types of pie and eating as many leftover sweet potatoes as possible; and the afternoon redecorating the house for Christmas. It is the only holiday I redecorate for. I think it is the only way to make the dark winter afternoons bearable. If all is so cozy and inviting inside it is really okay if Mother Nature is not giving us her very best.

This afternoon while decorating the Christmas tree I have felt very reflective. Plantboy and I right now live in a culture where people tend to get married a little bit later, if they do, and many people have at least one marriage over and done by our age. It has lately occurred to me that we have been together a long time. And in a good way. Many of my most pleasant memories now include Plantboy and our kids. Though these more recent delights have certainly not supplanted the best days from my own childhood, they seem now to carry equal, formative weight.

The story of that life together is told in our Christmas tree. The first year we were married, I insisted on a tree though there was no money for it. We bought a very fat tree from the carnies in the parking lot at Smith's in Logan. It would hardly take an ornament it was so full, but no worries. There really weren't ornaments. There was a pathetic strand of lights. There was a smattering of handmade ornaments--felt, buttons and white thread--I made at Homemaking (Relief Society) that year for probably a quarter apiece. There were pinecones with satin ribbon hot-glued onto them to make them festive. There were also ribbons. I had seen somewhere, no doubt, that decorating the tree tips with ribbons was enormously popular that year, and decided it was an inexpensive look to replicate. I tied gold and red ribbons to the tree.

Just as I have done every year since. The same ribbons. The same felt ornaments. The same pinecones.

And I remember. I remember the hideous ornaments from childhood that mom insisted we hang on the tree each year. The felt reindeer in olive green with the little bit of tinsel and a brassy bell. The little falling-apart soldiers made from what might have been spools of thread. Also olive green, bless their little hearts. Each year, when the ornaments came out, there was the story of that first poverty-Christmas my parents had together. We would groan and hang them anyway, along with all the other ornaments collected and made over the years. The ornaments that told the story of my family. It was a story I didn't understand very well for a long time. My mother's childhood was turbulent, at best, and her own brightest memories all involved Christmas lights and a single Christmas record. That first Christmas that she and Bean Boy spent together was her attempt to bring with her the best of her childhood into a new life. That simple tradition, decorating a Christmas tree, was her way of saying that she would do everything in her power to be a good wife and mother.

It is mine and Plantboy's 13th married Christmas together. And today I felt the story of my own little family told in those ornaments--crafted by mine or grubby, gluey patties as gifts for mom and dad; collected from neighbors and friends and church; purchased on end of season sales and rediscovered the next year like early gifts; treasured and put away carefully year in and year out. There is hardly room to fit our ornaments on my $5 garage sale tree (another lovely Christmas story that will keep). We have had to move it more central to the room and out of the corner so that it can be decorated all around.

As we finished our tree tonight, my tender-hearted almost seven year old (the best Christmas gift I ever received) said, "Tonight, let's turn out all the lights except the tree and sit around it." I suggested we should do so while we read the scriptures. He smiled broadly and said, "Great idea. It will help me to be reverent." I thought of my own mother, huddled under the Christmas tree while a record of Christmas songs played in the background, seeking to escape the myriad things that were hard for a little girl to deal with. What a lovely thought for that little girl's grandson to carry in his heart. It is a time of year to feel reverent. And while I know it will be hectic: there is a ladies' tea to host, a birthday party to put together, presents to buy and wrap, finals to be finished, a trip to Colorado to plan--I also know that every night, for at least a few minutes, I will turn out all of the lights except the low lamps and take my own turn to sit by the tree and feel the goodness of a single baby and His power to change the world. I will feel reverent. I will remember.

A Little Help?

2011-11-22T12:15:00.001-07:00

Here is the short story:

I am hosting our neighborhood cookie exchange this year. Typically it is munchies with tea and coffee affair. I am serving a light luncheon--meatballs, festive green salad, marinated cheese with crackers, rolls possibly, gingerbread, Costco cream puffs. What I need to figure out is beverages. It is kind of a ladies' tea type situation, but I obviously don't really do tea and coffee here. Jeff suggested that I get box coffee from Starbucks (he has picked it up for people at work in the past and they really like it); I could get tea packets, but what kind and what to have with it? Lemon? Honey? Cream? Sugar? All of the above? Or I could just do lemon water and gloss over no tea or cookies by just not saying anything about it?What about hot chocolate? Do non-Mormony people feel like I do--that hot chocolate can be served any time any where and in any weather?

Not really interested in making any kind of moral stand here. Don't really feel the same about tea and coffee in the house as I would say cigars and brandy (insert chuckle); I mostly want to be hospitable and somewhat accommodating without spending money on something that nobody is going to like.What would you do?

Tender Mercy

2011-11-14T09:41:00.001-07:00

I felt the Spirit at church yesterday . . . the whole time. It has been a while. I know that is probably more about me than church, but I sure am grateful. It makes this busy week seem a little bit more doable.

Sometimes

2011-11-04T09:17:00.000-06:00

Sometimes a friend who really understands you calls at just the right moment and everything seems so much more do-able. Just such a moment last night. Thank you. From the bottom of my too-stressed heart. Thank you.

Worst Blogger Ever

2011-10-29T22:04:00.002-06:00

It has been a very fun, very busy fall. Here are a few photos. A good post is coming. I promise. Maybe in another month . . . . how about if you just keep your expectations really low? The best I can give you today is a little commentary.

Look at this pie. Honestly. It is pretty much perfect. Razzleberry. (Yes, the decoration looks like cherries or mistletoe, but it is pretty much the extent of my free hand dough art) It tasted even better than it looked. My best effort ever. Late August.

The Jedi on their first day of school. Padawan is now in school all day. He is the smallest first grader (maybe the smallest KID) on campus. It is kind of starting to sink into him also and he doesn't always take it all that well. Both of them are brilliant, of course, and I am at the school three days a week volunteering. It is a lot of fun and, for me anyway, less stressful than babies. The day after Labor Day.

A late summer harvest. Isn't it gorgeous? I think so. Yellow peppers, onions, tri-colored carrots, multiple varieties and colors of tomatoes. We pulled out beets this week and I think we'll have shallots until they freeze in the ground. It was a great summer for harvesting.

Stealing from the strawberry patch. The only kind of stealing that is actively encouraged 'round these parts.

Plantboy had a few chances to go fishing in the early morning. He took some amazing sunrise pictures on the Umpqua River. This particular trip he only brought home photos, unfortunately.

On a whim, we took off after school and work on a Friday afternoon and hit the Coast. It was a lovely, sunny day and cool and breezy as always on the coast. The surf was remarkable that day and we had to leave by eight o'clock to beat both the tide and the darkness. On the left side in this picture, out on the point, you'll see a lighthouse. Our favorite beach is the one just below the lighthouse.

We did a campfire and foil dinners. By the time we left we were all huddled around it. Weather forecasts are very deceptive concerning the beach in the evening in late September. Still, it was completely awesome. We had the whole place to ourselves and we ran in the edge of the surf until we were properly exhausted.

The mist rolled in. It was both eerie and beautiful. As night fell we could see the lighthouse beam cutting through the fog and dark, reminding me that sometimes old-fashioned things are the best things.

For our boys, "playing" at the beach always looks more like work. Building, tunneling, damming and digging.

Some minor triumph no doubt. Though the Youngling looks poised to throw a mudball. His smile tells me that he is always up to something.

The last wistful look of summer out across the Pacific. Next time we do the beach in the early fall it is jackets and pants and more layers. But it was so awesome that there will definitely be a next time. And I mean awesome in the soul-stirring, wonderment sense of the word.

I helped can the pears, but Plantboy gets full credit for this amazing tomatoes. All organic and from the garden--multicolored tomatoes, basil, garlic and shallot. A pure delight. My favorite discovered recipe this fall is to take a jar of these, a couple of chicken breasts, and a crockpot. Stew it all together until the chicken falls apart, serve over noodles and voila! Delightful chicken cacciatore in a snap.

Okay, two tomato shots. They really are so pretty. I think they would make lovely gifts with a square of checked fabric, a bit of raffia and a card. Plantboy, however, isn't likely to willingly part with any of these lovelies.

On the second trip he apparently paid less attention to sunrise and more to the fishing. Not so empty handed this time around. I guess we are eating salmon again this year.

The two football games above were also a blast. The one on the right was Jedi Knight and Plantboy two weeks ago at BYU/OSU in Corvallis. They met LaVell Edwards in the will-call line. JK was featured on TV for about four seconds and the Cougs creamed the Beavs. It was a fun, big-boy thing for the almost-ten year old to get to do. His birthday was last Sunday and grandma paid us a surprise visit. I am sure it isn't possible that I have a ten year old, but that is what his birthday is telling me.

The picture on the right is today's University of Oregon/Washington State Game. The Ducks won by nearly 20, but it is proof that I'm a Ducks follower that I was a bit disappointed that the guys in yellow didn't score above 50! In case you didn't notice, the game was a "yellow-out." Think blackout, but brighter. This is my sweet friend Devery who invited Jeff and I to share tickets with she and her husband today. Front row. Fifty yard line. Those kind of seats make paying the babysitter for all day totally worth it. We don't get a whole day to ourselves very often. Thanks Dev.

Halloween, Thanksgiving and a bunch of other stuff still to come. How is your fall shaping up?

No Time to Post. Just Repost.

2011-10-14T18:49:00.000-06:00

There has been a ton of this stuff going around the blogosphere/bloggernacle/facebook/email etc. this week. This is my favorite from the St. Petersburg Times. Funny. Touching. It is so interesting to see those who have rushed to our (meaning the LDS as a people) defense as Romney and Huntsman have been raked over the coals. Kathleen Parker's article was also wonderful. That wonderful post is still coming. Breakdown is lasting longer than expected. Getting there.

Brain Exploding. NOT literally.

2011-10-13T08:53:00.001-06:00

I had this super-fantastic essay all worked out in my head this morning. Politics. September 11th. Wall Street protesters. Movie Review. The Lost Decade . . . it was awesome.

But it will have to wait. I'm going to have a complete breakdown today instead.Okay, not complete, there is too much to do. But certainly a partial breakdown. Trust me, I'm entitled. And being a Democrat I'm all about laying around and feeling entitled.

Educational Ethics

2011-10-05T12:31:00.002-06:00

If I needed further proof that I was in exactly the right major, it showed up this week in the form of the Utah State Magazine. The cover story is about how great it is that nine USU professors are working on grants from the National Science Foundations. Seven of them are in the hard sciences, but two of them are in Instructional Technology an Learning Science. They just happen to be the professors I have this term. One is studying the positive effects in math (statistics) learning when students take their own biometric data, the other is studying how science education is improved when students have to make logical arguments.

I've been thinking a lot about the reading I've done recently and wanted to discuss some questions with you all. I posted these same questions in a section of one of my classes today because I wanted to see what system "insiders" had to say. But I'm also very interested in the opinions of those outside the education establishment. Here is what I wrote:

In the Martinez book most of us have studied for Dr. Lee's class this semester, part of the working definition of learning in that book is that people's minds will be open to new ideas, to reconfigure schema as necessary. According to educational psychologists and learning scientists, therefore, to be educated means that you are willing to be open to new ideas.

And yet, in every one of our classes, we work with children whose parents are terrified of this very thing. Years ago I knew a man who was asking me about his daughter's English class--why couldn't her AP English teacher just teach her writing and proper grammar? "Why," I'll never forget him saying, "do they have to read all these awful books and cram her head full of ideas?" He was a very religious man; his concern was that his daughter would reject his world view if she was too encouraged to seek her own. And yet, he was a successful accountant with a degree. No doubt he would consider himself to be very educated.

I've taught both sex education and evolution in very conservative states. (Utah and Texas.) Ethics questions are very real and complicated. . . and sometimes honesty as the best policy means the phone will ring off the hook after school. What might be common sense to one person might not be so common or make any sense at all to another. So now for my question(s): What do we do as teachers when what we are trying to teach our students puts us at odds with members of our school community? How do we encourage students to explore new ideas and possibilities without undermining parental authority or rights? What have been your experiences with teaching controversial subjects? How do we address this very fundamental disconnect between our most conservative communities and one of the stated goals of real learning (the opening of the mind)?

"And it is very real--people are leaving public schools in astonishing numbers to home school with no more credentials than seminary graduation and righteous indignation. Our current political climate is toxic to our schools and half of our families tune in every night for another tirade about the place down the street where you send your kids on the bus every day to become little comrades, or just as bad, liberals. What can be done?

Before anybody says anything, of course I know that this isn't the reason that all home school parents use. The argument was to make a point.

Heaps to Say, But It Can Wait

2011-10-04T13:21:00.003-06:00

You should check out this blog today instead:

http://deeperstory.com/on-choosing-to-listen/

That's all.

One to Watch

2011-09-22T07:29:00.000-06:00

Here is my female candidate for President in 2016:

I heard an interview with her several months ago about her frustration with the inability of Congress to create a Consumer Protection Agency that had some teeth. This pictured quote is what I have been trying to articulate for a long time.

What do we think? Is there some unspoken underlying social contract? What obligations to our country and fellowmen come with being a free citizen?

One Bright Spot

2011-09-14T15:10:00.002-06:00

Okay, there are really a lot. But the sweetest might be that my little Youngling learned to ride his bike this week. Training wheels, of course, but it is still just so cute.

On the downside, I didn't even know it was possible to be this tired. A new calling has thrown a monkey wrench into so many carefully laid plans. Though, in all fairness, maybe this IS the plan.

Have Your Forgotten?

2011-09-09T11:25:00.000-06:00

No doubt there will be plenty of blog posts in the next several days about THAT DAY. I'll just add mine to the list. Eight months pregnant with my first baby. I wasn't under teaching contract that year, just subbing, and I had chosen not to work that day. I took the morning to walk (waddle) at the park near the Houston on Champion Forest Drive. I was wearing hideous and uncomfortable maternity work-out clothes. I headed to Wal-Mart. There was a teaser on NPR that a story related to education that was coming up. Then there was a break in the coverage. My first selfish thought was to wonder if this meant the education story (which sounded interesting) would be delayed or not done. Information at the moment was unclear and the official line was still "accident." I went in to Wal-Mart where strangers were asking one another, "did you hear?" By the time I got back to the car, the second attack had occurred. And the third. Then a fourth plane went down. I drove to the temple, where Plantboy was working. We watched the towers fall down on live television, stunned and horrified.

Like you.

I felt my dear boy squirm and kick inside me and I wondered just what kind of world I had brought my child into.

Ten years later, and now I know. As in any time, it is a world of sorrow and joy. Of good and evil. Of contradiction. Of growth. Of learning to seek out and hang on to what is best and pure. I hope I have taught that baby those things. For even though nobody he would have known died that day, he is a child of September 11th too. Who will these post-9/11 kids become? This thing that has come to define their generation has left them in a world filled with war and contention and conflict. In the immediate aftermath, even two and three years later, those tower images would frequently fill the TV. With his still-baby voice Jedi Knight would ask about it. I would tell him. Now I sometimes hear my history-loving boy talk about that day as if he has a memory of it. Does he? Or does he just carry the archetypal image in his head somewhere? Did those images burn so horribly into his mind even as a young child that he is part of our collective consciousness too?

October 2001 wasn't just a game changer in our family--two weeks to the day before my son was born, The US army invaded Afghanistan, where it has stayed and fought the longest war in our history. The day he was born the iPod was announced in a press conference. His will be the generation of war and information--two things that can bring people together or disconnect them entirely. I hope he will be a man who builds bridges, who is filled with compassion for others, and will learn the lessons of THAT DAY even though he had not yet entered the world.

What a Week!

2011-09-03T21:00:00.000-06:00

Grad school started. Last minute things to get ready for school. Back to School Night. Squeezing more fun things out of summer. Getting our Cub Scout Program up and running. A broken dryer. Picking up more working hours. A new calling (without releases from my other two--though the first order of business in the new calling was finding my replacements) in the Primary Presidency with an unwritten program coming up in six weeks and all the stuff that comes from keeping Primary chugging along.

I think next week will be better. I'm getting on top of a few things. The schedule is tight, but I think it will be doable. It has to be. I'm not sure what to let go of at this point. Okay, I suppose I do know: reading for leisure, writing, scrapbooks, cooking for pleasure . . . .so many of the things that make me feel human. I guess that is what all those breaks built into the college schedule are for. Though I am blogging and did make cookies with the kids tonight, and Plantboy and I did get a date yesterday. (Mexican food and Captain America--highly recommended.) Maybe it won't be as impossible as it seems.

Aggies and Ducks both lost today. Not a grand start to the coming week, but I'm sure that Fast Sunday will help restore the balance. Balance. Balance. Balance. I think this will be the new mantra.

My Turn on the Bus

2011-08-30T22:13:00.001-06:00

Oh. Boy. Today was a doozy.

Have I taken on too much?

Today is not the best day for me to ask that question.

While I Was Away

2011-08-21T11:42:00.001-06:00

I always think that Warren Buffet speaks such good sense. This time is no exception.

Emotional Posting

2011-08-17T20:13:00.004-06:00

My previous comments about Utah and my vacation were a bit jumbled. Visiting my family in Utah does make me feel conflicted, though I think I came across in a couple of ways that weren't intended. I will try to clarify here a bit, though without specifics, it may be hard.

First of all, we have no current intention to move. My thoughts are for the long term. In a year I have an adjustable rate mortgage that will need attention; in two years I will have a variety of employment options and all of my kids in school all day; I will also have a child entering middle school. In the current economy it is hard to say if thinking ahead is helpful . . . or just frusturating. If we want to make life changes then two years from now is a great time to do it. The question is whether or not that move will be to a house down the street with a laundry room that doesn't double as a garage, or if that move will be a major life change.

Mike's late comments on the post were well-taken. Of course making a decision to stay or go doesn't mean more or different revelation won't come later. However, as I have gotten more settled in our current community, and ponder on my own growing up, I have begun to feel strongly that there are very real merits to putting down roots. And yes, the blog is still going to be titled "Nomad." A person might relieve restlessness in a lot of ways that don't involve renting a moving van. I finished Little Women; Jo ultimately started a school. Hm . . . .

Mike's comments were further noted: I agree absolutely that a righteous family can be raised anywhere. And so can an unrighteous family. I also recognize that even doing your best and being very committed as parents still won't take away kids' choices. I was misunderstood in my previous post if I seemed to be saying that all Utah Mormons are a certain way. I certainly don't believe that, and I willingly admit that I am largely a product of a small-town Utah background. I do think, however, compared to where I have been living, and feel very comfortable living, the outward trappings of success and properity in Utah are so apparent. Coming from a state with some deep economic depression to a place that changes dramatically every time I come (more businesses, homes creeping further and further up the hills . . .) is, quite truthfully, overwhelming.

And there are some very good-looking people in my parents' ward. And my parents live in an affluent area. And there are some incredibly righteous people in my parents' ward. Many of them are the same people. Many of them have had deep and difficult trials--they just don't happen to be things that show up when you are looking at their lovely faces and homes. Based on the friends I have had over the years, I can't really have any other opinion. I do apologize if I came across otherwise.

I know that if we stay in Oregon we will sacrifice some of of the loveliest things about my own childhood, but we will have other opportunities. I guess. Those things are unknown. I am not sure if it takes courage to strike out on a new path, or if I'm just avoiding the going back to Utah thing because being there makes me remember things that I have long tried to put behind me. Maybe staying away is just running.

So here is my short list of things I do really love/like about Utah. I can be reasonable.

1. The view from my mother's deck. When the air quality is good (half the time?) you can see 20 miles.

2. The radio station 101.9 The End. Nobody else has one like it. I heard new songs from bands I didn't think existed any longer.

3. The accent. It is just so funny. When I miss it I can just tune into RS or Young Women's General Conference.

4. A church on ever corner. My kids get a kick out of counting them.

5. There are just so many temples. *sigh*

6. Logan. I could do a whole post on what I love about Logan. Oh, wait, I have. What a glorious couple of days of true homecoming I had there.

7. The local high school and its unchanging rhythms--two a day football practice, early morning range, the teacher parking lot filling up before school begins next week, the red and black tee-shirts in the local grocery store.

8. Seeing people I know almost every where I go.

9. Wards and primaries chock-a-block full of people.

10. Aggie Ice Cream, turkey steaks, Creamies . . . you know, the food you can only get in Utah. Don't miss the Jell-o so much. (My sister brought "Y" shaped jigglers to the family party.)

11. Family parties following a day on Dad's boat.

All wasn't well this time. There was a degree of drama that threatened to overwhelm everyone. I was glad to be able to walk away, but feel guilty for not being there at the same time. Conflict, conflict, conflict. . . . maybe it isn't Utah. Maybe it is family. Maybe it is me.

The Help

2011-08-16T17:38:00.001-06:00

More on my Utah trip later, but this is just a quick note to tell you that you must go see The Help. Tonight if possible.

Sunset

2011-08-07T21:34:00.003-06:00

I find myself terribly discontent when I visit "home." Utah, that is. I'm not sure why. I can never decide if it is that I still miss this place that really is home to me in many ways, or if I wish to move back here to see family more often so that we don't feel like such outsiders when we come. Or is it that the houses are bigger, the hair bleachier and the women prettier? Maybe the discontent stems less from a desire to come to "Zion" and more from the overwhelming feeling of being unsuccessful, at least by a certain standard. After church today, Plantboy, one of the best-looking men I've ever met, said, "I don't think we are good-looking enough to live in Utah."

Whatever it is, this vacation has not been revitalizing in the least. I have loved seeing so much family, but we've been non-stop in the car for three days and really aren't done yet. The longer we stay away from family, however, the stronger the sense of being an outsider fills me. Yet, at the same time, I cannot shake the solid truth that this community in which my parents have been a part for 40 years helped to form exactly the person I have become.

The mission for which I departed 15 years ago today is largely responsible too.

I think the mission might be part of the conflict. For twenty-one years I lived in the same community, surrounded by people who did the same. Even at college I was close to my extended family. Generation after generation with little alteration from the ones before. I suppose that I expected to do the same. Settle close to parents. Visit on Sundays. Have my own children grow up around their cousins doing the things that kids in a certain social strata are expected to do. Dance lessons. Sports. Church. I suppose. Though I think even from a young age I felt vaguely dissatisfied and restless with the cliche.

Enter Australia.

Exit a woman no longer content with the ordinary.

In the next few years it will be important for us to make some decisions because Jedi Knight is getting older, and if Utah has taught me anything this time around, it is that putting down some roots is important. Will we stay put, accepting the economic downturn and the spiritual knowledge given to Plantboy just a few weeks before taking his job in Eugene that the Church in Oregon needed us? Will we trust the Lord enough that our unique little boys will be able to make it in schools where there are the merest handful of LDS kids? Am I willing to sacrifice the kind of childhood I had for one of greater opposition that might make them powerful men? Or will we move closer to family for an idyllic support system that might only be in my head? Will we start over again, economically speaking, in our forties, and be strong enough not to care that we live in a small house that is decidedly in the valley and not on the hill? Do we move where there are more members of the church so that we can slip into blissful anonymity because couples like us abound? Do we stay put because we have a much greater capacity to serve where we are?

I feel so weak right now, and not at all up to the task of navigating my dear little mannies through the next phase we are now entering. But I have to be. There is no one else.

Tonight I was driving straight west from my brother's house to get back to my parents' house when I saw the most gorgeous sunset I've seen for years. My emotions were full as I looked at the scene. My heart was touched at the impression of the Spirit reminding me that God loves me immensely, but that most of my own human accomplishments will be weak and frail compared to what God can do. I felt enormously loved and properly humbled at the same time.

O God, Thou hast always shown us the way forward now. Please see fit to do so again. And if it is the direction I begin to think it will be, then please, O Lord, grant us the strength to hold our family together and to sacrifice cheerfully whatever Thou asks.

Little Women

2011-08-01T11:05:00.005-06:00

I love how the girls in Little Women patiently submit to their lots in life with zest, enthusiasm and obedience. Trials stemming from rebelliousness are temporary and soon ended with a kind word from "Marmee."

There should be a personality test for women in which you are identified as a Meg (bustling, domestic, motherly, likes nice things but is willing to sacrifice, proper, musical); a Jo (rebellious, rough, tomboy, restless, literary, unconventional); a Beth (charitable to a fault, kind always, still, faithful, also musical) or an Amy (elegant, tactful, artistic, the center of her social circle).

I've always most identified with Jo, though in some ways the above description isn't necessarily self-fitting. On a recent reading, Jo's main character trait that stands out to me is her restlessness. What suspends belief is that when she is married and more or less settled with her old professor and a houseful of boys is that all restlessness ends for her: maybe the houseful of boys was enough movement for her. Or not. Alcott herself was pretty much Jo, though she never married. The last chapter of her novel reads like her own castle in the air that isn't really grounded in reality. I can almost see Alcott in the garrett of smallish home, writing her prose and pining away for a man who would never come. Her father was a great friend to Thoreau: perhaps he was her ideal man in the way the professor was to Jo.

I am very restless this week. As we plan our annual pilgrimage to Utah, during which Plantboy and Jedi Knight are going to take an awesome canoeing trip, I cannot help but think that women spend a lot of time standing still while men get to move. And I am still having trouble learning to be still. I know that some of it is situational--my kids are still quite young--but it doesn't change things a whole lot. And we train them from a very young age to think this way: our girls go to Girl's Camp for long afternoons of crafts, a few water games, lots of cooking lessons and touchy-feely self-esteem boosting type activities. The teenage boys? They left this morning for a 50 mile backpack trip this week. In my mind it should be pretty clear which type of activity is more character-building, and yet we persist in defining kids almost wholly by their sex.

Oh, I am so restless. Graduate school this summer was very easy as I took an introduction class. Maybe as the challenges arise in the fall I won't feel like my spirit is trying to crawl out of my skin.

Thinking Before I Speak. Novel. I Know.

2011-07-20T10:06:00.003-06:00

Remember the good old days of journaling? Okay, so some of you are awesome and you STILL journal, but I gave it up for blogging. (Not to be confused with Lent.) My journals are filled with some good stuff, but it is mostly incoherent rambling. I used my journal to sort out thinking that I either couldn't share with others or still wasn't sure of myself. Unfortunately, in that medium, I seldom got back around to clarifying my thoughts when solutions presented themselves. My entries from my teen years, in particular, make it plain that I was the most depressed person who ever lived. I guess I only wrote on the hard days.

Blogging has been different. When I write longer pieces here, I often will take some days to organize my thoughts about something I have seen or experienced, and then attempt to present those thoughts in a cohesive essay. Generally, what you see is the result of something I have spent time puzzling through and on which I have formed an opinion.

And then I write a piece like 'Cause I'm a Woman, filled with opinions that were probably not very well-considered before just throwing them up there. Thirteen articulate opinions were elucidated in a blog post that became a very important conversation. Your perspective-laden comments, in conjunction with a letter-only friend sending me a copy of an editorial response to a Republican Senator's complaint about "degrees to nowhere," has given me much to think about in the last couple of weeks. My thinking is now clarified, and unlike my journaling of old, I am going to take the time to complete my thoughts. (And in an unrelated note: I hyphenated three phrases in this last paragraph. It is probably because my vocabulary isn't large enough to supply better words!)

I do stand by some opinions, but others have been softened. Caitlin made an excellent point about motherhood being "life-altering." And in the case of (at least) Caitlin and Karin, motherhood has come with unexpected challenges that have erased the possibility of ever having an "empty nest." For them, motherhood is not a detour from another life (the way I too often view it), it is the only path. Each of these women are brilliant and might have done anything with their years on earth . . . indeed each might have had a very different dreams once upon a time. Instead, each has been blessed with a sweet little daughter who will never come to a place she doesn't need her mother. The conversation I attempted to initiate with my talk of paychecks and giving back to society is practically an insult to the remarkable work these two lovely women and countless others like them do every day.

A woman embarking on the medical school trajectory doesn't know how she will react to motherhood until it happens. I have three close friends from my growing up years who became doctors. An optometrist, dentist and dermatologist. They have four, three and two kids respectively. They have found ways to balance work and family through a variety of methods. They have made sacrifices that I wasn't/wouldn't be willing to make. The point, however, is that those sacrifices are THEIRS. It doesn't matter what I think of it, nor is it my business to sit in judgment of their choices. It is funny how I keep forgetting that.

As for the public college thing . . . it seems I'm not the only one having this debate. As the school accountability movement continues to gain momentum, many eager politicians have suggested that higher universities seeking accreditation and/or public funding should have to prove that their graduates are working. After all, many go to college with the expectation that there will be employment opportunities on the other side. While I think my statements in the earlier post (basically amounting to the idea that without the intent to work then there was no point in attending college) were off-base, I don't think it is unreasonable to ask yourself or your children what the purposes are for attending college (their might be many, not all of which are academic), which college or university is the best value for meeting those purposes, and how that education is to be paid for in the short and long term. Women especially need to be candid with themselves about "plan A" and "plan B" insofar as those terms are at all descriptive.

There was quote in my planner yesterday that read, "A liberal arts education is supposed to provide you with a value system, a standard, a set of ideas, not a job." I really like that quote, and I think I agree. Some things are inherently valuable, even if they don't turn into some arbitrary definition of "net-worth." The problem is that the liberal arts education still comes with a price tag, even if you can't easily measure its value or gain a return on it. If your dreams aren't tempered with a degree of practicality, then they are unachievable wishes or can eventually turn into nightmares.

As to the idea of shared public resources--my own mode of expression may have been over the top, but I think there are legitimate concerns to be spoken of here. In an era of fiscally (and morally) bankrupt government, it is necessary to ask hard questions about what exactly the government's responsibilities are. And what is the cost of that responsibility? To what degree is education an investment? A public service? How do we measure success in public education at every level?

I've also come to a deep realization the last few weeks that much of our self-reliance is an illusion. Oh, we might pay our own bills and have our food saved up for a year and store hundreds of gallons of water under the bunkbeds . . . . but our ability to truly live on our own is very limited. I listened to an interview with man named Russel Fox. He is a professor of political science at a university somewhere in Midwest. He is also LDS. He subscribes to a political philosophy called Communitarianism, which I find totally fascinating. The philosophy is that classic liberalism (i.e. individual freedom supersedes everything) is mostly impossible to achieve and ultimately leads to a broken and uncivil society. If individuals don't agree to give up some freedoms in return for the broader success of the group as a whole, then everything eventually collapses, or reverts to a state of oligarchy in which the privileged few are the only ones who actually have any freedom or power. He cites the Declaration of Independence as an example. While it begins with the words about individual have a right to "life, liberty and pursuit of happiness," the grievances in the document are all collective and perhaps the most powerful route to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for everyone is only through a recognition that we are all in this together.

He talked about the idea of "owning your home." Such a thing is only possible because a bank is willing to back you, because the public as a whole puts money into that bank that can in turn be lent, because the government backs the bank so that people will trust it enough to put their money in it. Your insurance on the home is possible because so many people pay into the system. Unless you are one of those rare folks off the grid, living in that house is comfortable because of a public sewer and utility system. The water coming into the house is clean because there are laws about that sort of thing. The road going to your house is paid for with public resources. You don't have a porn store open next door because there are laws for that too. In short, hundreds, maybe thousands, of people are responsible for the simple step of self-reliance that is called home ownership.

It isn't hard to see the same jump to education. I went to a public college and didn't pay tuition in five years of higher education. A scholarship endowment--backed by a LOT of generous people and taxpayers--did that for me. And while my obligation may not be to work at a traditional nine to five job, I still have to assert that I have a deep obligation to society. Where I overstepped the mark in my previous post was that in implying my own approach to paying it forward (or back or whatever you call it) is the only approach. If the first generation of feminists taught us anything, it's that women should get to choose whatever life they wish; I hope that the second generation of feminists has the wisdom to realize that choosing means leaving behind the things we don't value and rejecting false ideas of what it means to be a woman.

Not Yo Momma's Fruit Salad

2011-07-15T11:32:00.005-06:00

Plantboy didn't trust me at first when he brought all of those delightful ripe berries in the house from the garden and I wanted to do more than just wash them and throw them on the table, but he learned to trust me. And you should too.

Not Yo Momma's Fruit Salad

* 2 cups of fruit in any combination of the following--kiwi (Zespri brand only, please), blackberries, blueberries, strawberries and/or raspberries
* 1/2 cup good quality balsamic vinegar (Costco actually sells an excellent one)
* 4 Tbsp white sugar
* Crumbled feta cheese

About an hour before serving, make a balsamic vinegar reduction by combining the sugar and the vinegar over low-medium heat, whisking frequently until the mixture thickens slightly. Take some time on this: you don't want to burn/crystallize the mixture. You want to just steam the moisture out of it. You also don't want to reduce it TOO much because then you end up with syrup. That is actually quite awesome too, but you want something that will cool to a dressing texture, not a solid.

When your reduction begins sticking to a spoon, put it in the fridge to cool. Slice larger fruit (strawberries and kiwi) into bite-sized chunks and toss it with the smaller fruit. Drizzle cool dressing down over the top and let it sit for about ten minutes before serving. The fruit will begin to lose some of its moisture to the dressing and make it fruity and tangy at the same time.

Just before serving, sprinkle the top with feta. (The cheese isn't as pretty if it absorbs the dressing.)

Other options:

Spoon the fruit over the top of pound cake, then drizzle generous portions of the dressing/syrup over the whole thing.

Dip anything you have on hand into the reduction. It is my new favorite thing.

The garden has been my best friend this week. Wednesday it was a delightful all-vegetable dinner--creamed peas with sweet onions over new potatoes, roasted golden beets and tri-colored carrots, salad from the garden. The night I served the above it was with bacon spaghetti (using Plantboy's canned Italian Tomatoes and loads of fresh basil) with lemon rosemary bread. Since I cannot get the balsamic vinegar reduction or my new crepe pan out of my head, Sunday is going to be grilled chicken and roasted vegetable crepes drizzled with the stuff with a side of caprese salad and green beans. And next time you have a hamburger, you must (MUST) add a thick slice of roasted red or golden beet to the top. It tastes like Australia.

I suddenly feel so hungry.

Summer

2011-07-03T21:33:00.018-06:00

We haven't had family photos in three years. Pathetic, I know. Still, I think the result was worth waiting for. We found a photographer who was willing to meet us out at the coast. This spot is one of my favorites in the whole world. (At least the small part of the world I've seen up until now.) It was a perfectly lovely day, and I think the effect she put on these pictures is just so cool. Getting around to printing might take some time, but for now you can enjoy them.

Cause I'm a WOMAN!

2011-06-22T10:55:00.006-06:00

Let's see how well you remember this old commercial:

I can bring home the bacon . . . .
Fry it up in a pan . . . .

And now the last part?

And never let you forget you're a man
'Cause I'm a WO-man!

I wanted to start with this retrospective today because of a provocative article my brother sent me late last week. With my return to school this month, the article, a New York Times OpEd titled, "Don't Quit This Day Job" has caused me to stop and think about a lot of things.

But let's analyze the commercial first. If you are somewhere near my age, even if you had very limited access to television like we did, then you probably knew not only the lyrics, but the brassy, bluesy music that goes with it. These simple lyrics are the ultimate woman-message of the 80's. Our moms, the first generation of mainstream feminists, were home (often part-time) with young kids.

"I can bring home the bacon . . . " Implies that women, now working, could do just as good a job at providing for their families as their husbands.

"And fry it up in a pan . . ." Woman can also still be good at all those domestic tasks that are traditionally hers. Our mothers, who largely bought into feminism without even realizing it, (and were beneficiaries in many ways whether they supported it or not) really had a raw deal. They believed in equality a generation ahead of the men. My mother, who worked anywhere from 8 to 40 hours throughout all my growing up years, also worked full-time at home. I've never seen my dad iron or vacuum or change a diaper or dust or mend or start a load of laundry. The extent of his domestic ability is to grill and make pancakes on Saturday morning.

Now, before going to the next part, who remembers what this commercial was actually about? That's right. PERFUME. A now-defunct brand called "Enjoli."

The last couplet implies that not only can woman be the breadwinner and run the household, but she can be ready for an intense sexual experience at any given time. The question she puts to her man is, "Are YOU ready?" (Stupid question, really.) I also think it is funny how she must remind him that he is a man: I guess because modern woman does everything the emasculated modern man needs more reassurance.

My brother, the doctor, forwarded the above-referenced OpEd to me from another doctor--male--who was quick to point out that "he was not in agreement with the article." I suppose that a sensitive, new-age guy (SNAG) must say such a thing. But I am under no such constraints and may say whatever I like to the three or four of you still following Science Teacher Mommy. I am LARGELY in agreement with the sentiments expressed by Dr. Sibert in her OpEd.

For those of you that didn't link to the article I will summarize. Dr. Sibert expresses deep frustration at the vast numbers of women who go into medicine without the intention of practicing full time. She sees a disturbing trend as more and more medical schools are giving spots to individuals who intend to pursue medicine as a part-time career, citing that 48% of all medical school diplomas last year were given to women. She is frustrated by current attitudes that view doctor-ing as a great part-time option for women.

Wait . . . wait. . . haven't I been a part time worker for many years? Putting my teaching on hold for a family?

In a word, yes.

But we aren't talking about teaching, we are talking about medicine. And the good doctor points out that there are other considerations here. Medical school tuition is astronomical, but it still doesn't cover the costs of operating a medical school. The federal government subsidizes them. (In other words, you and I do. Sort of--45% of Americans don't actually pay federal taxes, but that is another discussion for another time.) Even more heavily subsidized are residency programs, with resident salaries coming almost entirely from the Medicaid budget. Dr. Sibert is angry with young doctors who don't recognize the investment poured into them, and maintains that doctors who don't practice full time are not as effective (they don't have as much practice) for their patients. Patients who are the very public who subsidized their education, and now hold all the promissory notes on their student loans too.

She is taking a bold stand by saying, "Newsflash: women CANNOT have it all!" And I agree. The notion that we can be all things to every person and still gain broad personal satisfaction is the biggest fallacy to come out of the Women's Movement of the 1960's and 1970's. I know, I've said it before, but we are at something like 425 posts here, and some things bear repeating.

When it comes to medicine, Dr. Sibert maintains, personal decisions (like the fact that 40% of female doctors in their childbearing years only work part time) have huge consequences for the public. Within just 15 years, this country will be short 150,000 doctors, especially General Practice doctors (the area where more of the residents are women). The Health Care legislation insures more people, and our population is aging. There is a terrible bottleneck in doctor training, with many times more people turned away then actually get into school. And when it comes to women in these professions, they are increasingly choosing them because of the options for part time work.

In addition, funding is becoming increasingly tight for residencies as the government cuts more and more from those areas in an attempt to balance the budget. What a kick in the pants to get through medical school only to learn there is no way for you to actually get the hands-on training needed to become a full doctor . . . perhaps it is a bigger kick in the pants to realize that you didn't get a spot ahead of a woman with excellent test scores whose ambition is to primarily be a stay at home mom.

Now, obviously, my brother's area of concern is the best medical care to the most patients, and his interest in this article is of that nature. I think there are things that could be done: states with a terrible mortality rate (relative) and a lack of doctors where they need to be, could subsidize tuition or even forgive student loans in exchange for a certain number of full-time years as a GP in rural and minority communities or in clinics that service areas with terrible poverty. I think you'd see a lot of people take advantage of that. Dr. Sibert offers few suggestions, though her tone implies that she would not like to see spots given at all without firm commitments about the work people will put back into the system that demands a lot but also gives a lot. She is right on the money in trying to address this difficult issue, and suggests that young female doctor-candidates need to be spoken to more candidly about the detriments of part time work.

For me, however, the article raises broader questions that can be applied to women everywhere, and maybe most particularly to LDS women who feel intense pressure to stay home (and whose husbands feel intense pressure to keep them there), but also near-constant encouragement to get all the education they can and excel at all they do. The feminist movement has finally produced the generation of young women it intended to--women with liberal ideas toward sex, who don't necessarily associate childbearing with sexual experience; women who believe that any career is open to them; women who see having children and/or marriage as one path in many toward self-actualization; women who are ambitious and driven and don't give a fig if they out-compete the men.

But I feel deeply conflicted about it. When Plantboy graduated from his master's program, nearly HALF of the graduates at the campus-wide commencement that day were in the college of education. As secondary teachers actually graduate from the college that was their major focus, this means that all of those COE graduates were either elementary teachers or psychology majors. Most of them were women. The rest of that half was rounded out by those in the college of Family Life--including interior design, social work and family human development. Again, nearly all women. I would have been fascinated, on that campus of mostly LDS people, to learn how many of those women ever worked. Ever intended to work.

Granted, their college experience was still valuable to them and their families, but it was a public college, heavily subsidized by taxpayers. In addition, most students attend college on some mixture of scholarships, grants and loans--all backed by common funds. Governments INVEST in education in the hopes of getting some kind of broad return on society.

Please don't misunderstand. I primarily identify myself as a stay at home mom, and I have done so for the last ten years. I believe that in most circumstances, kids get a better start in life if they have their mothers home with them during the first few years. I think if people are going to have children then they should also make the commitment to raise them.

But I also think that the Women's Movement not only deluded us into thinking that we could have it all, but that we were somehow lesser women if we didn't. So we are a generation of guilt-ridden women, unsure where we belong. We sacrifice career for family, but when the career calls we sacrifice family for that. Years of self-sacrifice can leave us worn down and bitter if we aren't careful.

I feel like every year in my life I have had to re-negotiate the balance between my own wishes and the wishes of the four men who depend on me for nearly everything. I try to be prayerful. I try to listen to the Holy Ghost. And then I act and try not to look back. I try not to feel deeply sad as the novel is shelved for who knows how long because I ran out of time to reach my own deadline. I try to get enthusiastic about another game of Apples to Apples Junior. I try to remember that doing the laundry is my version of clothing the naked, that making dinner is how I feed the hungry. I try to be cheerful about the three a.m. daily alarm knowing that the paper route is a means to an end. I try not to think about how I will possibly balance school, and eventually a full time job with a busy, needy family. I try not to be envious when my husband receives accolades at work. I try to desire motherhood above everything else even when it feels foreign to my nature. I try not to resent that I put my husband through school twice, but that this time around I must largely put myself through.

That last paragraph is pretty raw and honest . . . maybe nobody made it quite this far. But if you did, then maybe you or someone you love feels as conflicted as I do sometimes. People will often remark on how confident I am, and I feel like kind of a poser. Sometimes that outward display of confidence is the way I blow smoke over all the conflicting forces inside of me. Maybe this is the true essence of modern woman. Bottle that, Enjoli.

The Essence of a Mission

2011-06-15T11:15:00.004-06:00

I read two interesting articles today.

The first is this one from NPR. The tacky title notwithstanding, it is actually quite interesting and informative. I deeply appreciated the acknowledgment that Glenn Beck doesn't speak for most mainstream Latter-day Saints. For the most part, the tone and research in the article is good. I think that American reporters are starting to feel more comfortable with the presence of Mormons in public life, and the reality that our belief system in some way must be dealt with.

The comment-ers on this type of story are funny/fascinating/frustrating. Three camps seem to come out on every Mormon-story that runs in a national forum. The first group is completely anti-religion, railing that any person who claims religious-preference hovers between deluded and insane. These people would erase all evidence of religion from public life. (See Communist Russia for such a happy state of affairs.) In an effort to emphasize just how far on the crazy spectrum Mormons are, these people love to pull out difficult and questionable details from events that are over a 100 years old and present them as proof that we cannot be trusted to make good decisions.

The second camp are those Christians (generally of the Evangelical and/or Baptist variety) who feel like it is their duty to further "inform" and readers about the specific details that only their ministers seem to know. I think they also hope to bring a few Mormons into their version of the light along the way. Interestingly, they employ the same techniques as the people in the first group, though their venom is disguised in zealousness.

No less zealous is the third general group: Mormons themselves. The ones who choose to comment are nearly always extremely defensive, and they seek mostly to correct the other comment-ers rather than address topics that were actually in the article. Mormon intellectuals are strangely absent. It isn't that they don't exist, it just seems that they keep more to themselves in that nebulous online Mormon-world dubbed "The Bloggernacle." These blogs range from informative and faithful, to full of contentious former Mormons who just can't quite break from the Church. LDS people have always had difficulty balancing our public persona with easy exclusivity.

Whose idea were these public forums anyway? With no moderator, the discussion is rarely useful or informative, and only the angriest (the ALL CAPS people) and least-informed (the people for whom English grammar seems to be a total enigma) among us. But that is entirely beside the point.

The second article, linked by a single, thoughtful comment-er, was to Bloomberg Newsweek and also spoke about the Mormon Missionary experience and what it can do for people, professionally. The article draws a correlation between the many successful Mormon businessmen (disproportionately high to the less than 2% of the US population we comprise) and the missionary experience. The article is lengthy and says much about the unique leadership experiences we have while growing up and the ease with which LDS people adapt to a corporate hierarchy, because of the Church's top-down structure. Women are nearly entirely overlooked in the article. I bet Whitney might have helped them with that.

And while the writers of each article clearly made an effort to get the facts, and to write as respectfully as they could about things that are, quite frankly, incredibly difficult for "outsiders" to understand, I think they totally missed the point of the mission experience. Totally. It is true that one of the goals of the missionary program is to create future Church leaders, but that process is about changing hearts, not creating corporate clones. There is no mention of understanding and receiving revelation, witnessing miracles, feeling the Spirit, growing up, gaining empathy, intense hours of gospel study . . . the things that truly turn the sincere missionary into a new person. For every successful CEO RM, there are thousands who just re-enter normal life, newly committed, more sensitive, and with a broader picture of the world beyond the one in which they have always known. These anonymous tens of thousands, and the energized converts they find, are the backbone of the Church.

Boy, did these two commentaries miss the mark.

I wrote an essay a couple of weeks ago for a friend. She sent me a subscription to a literary magazine published each quarter called "Granta." It is British, and truthfully pretty out there. Last quarter's issue was called "Alien" and each essay was told by an outsider looking in. My own essay was about my adjustment to Australia, and I'm quite pleased with the result. It is too lengthy to post here (and Blogger can't accommodate my snarky footnotes), but I'm happy to send anyone a copy who wants one. Just send me an e-mail.

What Have I Done????

2011-06-10T12:20:00.002-06:00

My first class starts on Monday. I'm sort of having a panic attack.

Remind why I'm doing this again?

Conflicted

2011-06-02T11:31:00.007-06:00

I sort of love comic book stories. I'm sure I've mentioned before my love-of-all-things-Batman, but I might have failed to mention that a close runner up in my mind is the X-Men franchise. I think that I love the story because it is so character-driven. Yes, yes, that might be a lot to say about comic books and movies geared toward boys who are primarily interested in blowing stuff up and breasts; but at their hearts, the best superhero stories are about people with extraordinary powers who would probably prefer just to fit in. Dr. Xavier starts a school so that "gifted" kids will have a place to go. Rogue contemplates giving up her power so that she might know human touch. Cyclopes wanting to see through human eyes. Batman fighting the scepters of his parents' death, Peter Parker haunted by the one murder he can never stop . . . I'm telling you, these are just great, character-driven stories. The villains in these stories become such when they believe their power makes them superior to others--they lose their empathy for "regular" humanity.

The X-Men story is a great example of this. The main bad guy, Magneto, is a survivor from a concentration camp. As much as his fellow mutants try to help him use his amazing power (he can control metal) for good, he can never quite forget or forgive how those who are different are treated by those in power. His inability to let go of the past turns him into the thing he most hated.

But on to why I am conflicted.

The X-Men franchise has a history of casting really, really good-looking men. Case in point:

Look at me and my bad self. I'm even cute with crazy sideburns and spikes for fingers. And don't even get me started on the mad blow-dryer skills that give me this hair-do.

The best-looking guys all know how to swagger, and I know you want this jacket.

This smile is really my best feature. I cannot figure out how I got cast as Wolverine: he doesn't smile once in six hours of movie mayhem. Oh wait, I know how . . . . it is all about my huge pythons. Did you SEE that first picture? XOXOXOXO

For the life of me, I cannot figure out how all of these Hugh Jackman pictures have ended up here. This last one doesn't even have anything to do with X-Men. Still, you've got to love Nicole Kidman's face. She is thinking, "If anything happens to Keith, The Drover is definitely my back-up plan." Hugh Jackman? He is thinking, "Good grief, a guy doesn't shave for a day and look what happens."

Here is another smoking hot actor who must have been cast purely for the bone structure of half a face. He also has an adorable grin that he doesn't get to use. Not a lot of smiling in the X-Men movies.

Dang! Hugh has beaten me out of the scruffy contest again! I've been working on this shadow all week.

The new film, coming out tomorrow, is no exception. It is easy to like the good guys when they are Hugh Jackman or James Marsden or James McAvoy. It is easy to distance yourself from the bad guys when they are made to look totally freaky or are 100 years old, cold as ice, and your first thought is Gandalf when you see them.

I am SOOOOO cerebral. And when I grow up I get to be Jean Luc Picard.

Did I say cerebral, ladies? What I meant is ACTION ADVENTURE GOD. Real men are all Brits.

Can you say male-dominated? I think this will be one drawback from the trilogy. Jane Grey, Storm and Rogue are such strong characters. This film seems to highlight January Jones in her lingerie. Could that honestly be comfortable? For saving the world? She makes Wonderwoman look like a Nun. (See earlier comment about the need for this genre to appeal to teenage boys. *sigh*) And Kevin Bacon? Honestly?

Batman's villians have been likewise unappealing--Jack Nicholson, a shredded-faced Heath Ledger, Danny DeVito, Arnold Swcharznegger, etc. It is not so easy to dislike the bad guy when he is MR. ROCHESTER:

I have a name. It is Michael Fassbender. And soon all the world will know it!
(Insert maniacal, bad-guy laughter here)

Team Xavier, or Team Magneto? I have a feeling that even a ticket to the movie isn't going to solve this dilemma.

Age 4. Phase 4.

2011-05-26T10:57:00.005-06:00

My baby turned four on Tuesday. . . .

Perhaps you didn't hear correctly. My BABY turned four on Tuesday. On Sunday I held him close and said, "When you turn four, you'll be a big boy, and you won't be my baby anymore." I said this with some sad longing in my voice. Even in his little boy brain he could see my need for feedback of some kind. He put his perfect little arms around my neck and said, "I always your baby, Mommy. Even when I grow up and I'm super big, I be your baby forever."

Awww. . . .

Except I know better.

I know that as the youngest he probably will always hold some kind of special place in my heart, unique from the others (though they each occupy their own place too). But I know that boys grow up. Sports, friends, school, girls, mission--each in their turn will become more important than I am. Some replacements will be temporary. Others, not so much. I feel like I am standing on the edge of the next phase of my adult life.

The first phase were those single days. I find that the longer I live past that time, the more more idyllic they become! Fun and carefree days with roommates. College. Cheesy jobs. Heaps of friends. Student government. Mission. But I'm not naive. I also remember those days as being filled with a lot of loneliness, and longing--a sense of waiting for my life to begin. I think I missed a lot of joy from that time because I was always looking toward that moment in the future when I would be happy. I'm so grateful for those years that taught me about how sanctifying waiting can be, how to live with and love myself, and how to have a testimony.

Phase two is married without kids. This phase only lasted a couple of years for us. This is not a phase that has gotten more idyllic with the passage of time. It is true that we did a lot of fun things in that time, and that money wasn't as stressful as in later years (we had a whole year of two professional incomes without kids or a house payment), but we are so much more happily married now. I'm a great wife, but I was kind of a lousy newlywed. I brought too many hang-ups, and perhaps some unrealistic expectations into that most holy union.

Phase three is young kids, aka, "baby prison." I won't say much about that. After all, the blog is nearly five years old, and if you have even followed a portion of that time you know enough of my adventures in phase three.

But now . . .

There is no baby here. No diapers. Few little kid toys even hanging around. Our conversations (that don't involve shooting stuff) are actually interesting and uplifting around here. Oh, my men and still little and busy, and there are days that are just wearing physically and emotionally, but mostly I have been given my own life back. This morning I spent time sending a rather lengthy letter to a friend. I am now working on this blog post. I will probably spend time later consolidating and copying down recipes. As long as I stop to provide food, the pirates (the game of choice this morning) will probably stay pretty content.

My graduate program begins in just a few weeks. I am scrambling through my to-do list, hoping to accomplish some domestic activities before I get my feet wet. I have mentioned before that the last year or two I felt a sort of limbo--unsure about having more kids, not knowing what to do next, frustrated with a dead-end job we can't afford for me to quit, etc. etc. Now I feel like it is time to take the next step forward.

Sacrifice

2011-05-17T12:41:00.005-06:00

In Sunday School this week our lesson was about the rich young man. You know the one--he was truly trying to keep the commandments for the right reasons, and recognized in the Savior and Individual who was perhaps more than a great rabbi. Upon asking what more he could do to follow God, the Savior, carefully considering the young man's sincerity and lifestyle, admonished him to sell all that he had, give it to the poor, and then follow the Savior.

The teacher had some fantastic quotes--one from a Protestant reformer (Wycliff, maybe?) who expressed his deep concern about the inability of Christians to stay humble when they became wealthy, practically describing the central themes found so bluntly stated in the Book of Mormon. A second quote came from Brigham Young as follows, "The worst fear I have about this people is that they will get rich in this country, forget God and His people, wax fat, and kick themselves out of the Church and go to hell. This people will stand mobbing, robbing, poverty, and all manner of persecution and be true. But my greatest fear is that they cannot stand wealth.” Then he referenced Joseph Smith from Lectures on Faith, "A religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things never has power sufficient to produce the faith necessary to life and salvation."

There followed a very interesting discussion about the sacrifice of "all things", and what exactly the Lord expects from us. The conversation then moved into the idea of covetousness and how it isn't the wanting of others' stuff that is the problem as much as the bad feeling it gives us toward others when they have more or are more. Competition, coveting and pride are all sins on the same spectrum. Ultimately we don't just envy and hate those who have more . . . we scorn those who have less. Coveting nearly always leads to enmity. And, as is so often the antidote for sin, charity seems to be the cure.

So what the Lord expects is our time, talents and our energies for the good of others. This combination will be unique to everyone, but it seems fairly certain that anything less than our all isn't enough.

I think I'm starting to understand about sacrifice, at least a little bit. What I'm still working on is the faith part that says, "Any sacrifice pales in comparison to the blessings . . . ." I think that one of the great strengths of LDS people is their willingness to sacrifice. And today I need your strength. Take a moment here to share a time when you sacrificed, and what it taught you. I know that sacrifice isn't about making sure that others know what you've done, but maybe this is a forum when we can draw strength to have the faith to continue giving our all.

You see, right now I'm going through a period of discouragement regarding my rather stupid job. As has been typical throughout our whole marriage, my extra income is just a little bit more than the 10% we pay in tithing--the rest of my money mostly covers my own tithing and my expenses for the paper route. For me, tithes and offerings aren't just about writing a couple of checks every month . . . it is about setting an alarm at 3 o'clock every. single. day. Probably at least for a couple of more years, unless I expect my family to share the sacrifice. No lessons. No dates. No vacations. No mission fund. No fun. Either I suffer or we all suffer.

Then I look around my community, my country, and the world, and I see actual suffering and I feel very small and selfish. Please, share your stories. It will ease the passage in the dark tomorrow morning.

Six Weeks

2011-05-05T12:00:00.012-06:00

The last six weeks has been very busy. I think I finally see and end in sight, however. Next week should slow down a whole lot, culminating with Plantboy taking ALL the kids on the father-son camp out this year. This happy occurrence is the day after my birthday and I will get precisely what I want for number 36: A (partial) day of peace and quiet at home.

I have been hard at work on my goals the last weeks:

* My scripture study has picked up because of an unexpected boost. I have a friend who was baptised last October and has taken a strong interest in studying the Book of Mormon. We are giving each other reading assignments and meeting weekly to talk about them. It has been really great, and the kind of thing I haven't done for years. Having a study buddy keeps us both accountable and keeps us motivated.
* As mentioned here, I have finished a manuscript that several people are reviewing. I began working on a second full pass of it last night. My reading has been curbed back quite a lot, but the stack of books continues to grow. My blogging time has, obviously, been scaled way back.

* I've been exercising more regularly and have lost some weight, but I'm starting to think that even the half marathon isn't going to happen. My YW calling has kept me incredibly busy since Christmas and I just can't commit the time to the running that I need. I won't make a full decision for a couple of more weeks, but I feel some relief in admitting that it just might not be my year to marathon.

* I applied to graduate school (instructional technology) through an on-line program at my alma mater. After lots of pros and cons and years of consideration, this on-line option is the only one that really felt right. It will be cheaper, and I will be able to keep working while I complete it. I will finish the same time my youngest starts first grade, and instructional technology should give me more flexibility than a straight education degree.

Last year I felt like I was on the verge of everything and was filled with indecision and a large degree of depression. This year, I feel like I've taken the next step into the darkness. I'm not at all sure what will happen next, but it feels very good to have acted with a degree of faith and determination.

So here is the run down of what has kept us so busy these last several weeks.

The first order of business has been getting the garden in. And though Plantboy does most of the work, I have spent my share of sunny-ish afternoons weeding, weeding, forever weeding. The reward is that these bare plots are now filled with leafy growing things, well on their way to becoming food. Except the peas--they mildewed in so much rain and had to be re-planted this week.

The weekend of Plantboy's birthday and spring break, we decided to tile the kitchen. This is one of the bigger home improvement projects we have undertaken, and it was fairly difficult. The end result is beautiful (though I don't exactly have a proper "after" picture). and now we are trying to gear up enough desire to do the bathrooms next.

Before the grout had even dried, I thought, "What about that bathroom I've wanted to tackle for the last two years??" And I did, with a vengeance. Though still sporting the nasty old linoleum, the bathroom got a major makeover, paint-wise. Even the cabinets. Still, I had some good help so it wasn't too bad.

Spring came. I guess that wasn't a thing that kept me busy, but it was certainly a thing that has kept me going. The perennials and bulbs are lovely this year.

We finished painting the bathroom just in time to work on the Pinewood Derby. It was a night of tears, frustration and disappointment. At least at our house. Plantboy may get enlisted for some serious hours next year. Here is Jedi Knight winning the award for best "Hot Rod." The award only made him angrier because, "it isn't even a hot rod!!!"

My parents came to visit over Easter Weekend. Mom and I hosted an egg hunt/Bunny Money store for a few of the kids' friends. I had brunchy foods for the grown ups at the same time and it was actually a lot of fun.

Mom and Dad DID come to town to visit the grand kids, but they came that particular weekend because we had Wicked tickets. My sister also came. We had dinner first and then walked to the theater just a block from the restaurant (and only 10 minutes from home!). The show was fantastic. I'll spare you the review--there are many others written that are both better and more expert. It almost matched my anticipation level. I say "almost" because I'm not quite sure anything could have: I spent over a year putting the evening together. I promise I rocked that white outfit. I realize more forcefully all the time that I am NOT photogenic.

Jeff and Padawan went to an Oregon Ducks baseball game courtesy of a newspaper customer who was looking to get rid of some tickets. It was Padawan's first grown up outing on his own with dad. He said it was the best day of his life, even if game treats had to be tepid hot chocolate in a commemorative cup because it was so cold.

Here we are in Egypt. Not really. The following pictures are at the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry: OMSI. It is pretty much awesome. We saw a mummy, dinosaur bones, tried to build earthquake proof buildings and ball guns. We saw an IMAX film about baby orangutans and elephants. Most of the activities were hands on. We got to go to dinner on the way home from Portland . . . it was just a really awesome day.

Finally!

2011-04-26T10:20:00.005-06:00

In all fairness to the many fine (and not-so-fine) film-makers who have attempted to do a film adaptation of Jane Eyre, Bronte did not make their task easy. With the backdrop of a dark, gloomy, gothic setting, the responsible adaptation must also create a warm and blazing passion between two characters. Each element--setting, Jane, Rochester--must be finely tuned to the other two. In addition, the leads may not be all that spectacular to look at. Jane should be plain. Rochester, almost ugly. We must also add that Jane is cautious and her paramour grouchy beyond belief. But only toward her, of course, the woman who best understands him. To all other, lovelier women, he must appear as the very soul of charm. To this tricky mix we must add a crazy woman in the attic, a plot that spans twenty-five years and TWENTY YEARS DIFFERENCE in ages.

Thanks, Charlotte.

With all this potential for getting it wrong, it is so refreshing when somebody gets it right. The new Jane Eyre is haunting and dark with moments that feel like they verge on a horror movie. The leads look and act just right. Jane is plain without her make up and her conservative hair, but she has the most luscious lips I've ever seen. Mr. Rochester can hardly keep his eyes off of them from the beginning of their acquaintance. There are moments that absolutely sizzle in this version, once again proving that NOT kissing is sometimes much more sensual than actually kissing.

Remember the above scene from Pride and Prejudice? NOT kissing combined with Darcy Effect is pretty much smoking hot.

Doesn't he look properly tortured?

The above picture is another not-kissing scene. Enough drama to give Shakespeare a run for his money.

Oh, it isn't perfect. I could have used about 20 more minutes. There should have been more with the crazy wife--like the ripping of the veil, which is a really chilling scene. Most of the cuts from the original story are well-considered, but I didn't think that poor Bertha and Grace Poole got enough mileage. This script also implies other things--that the little girl is Rochester's, for example. I would have liked to see more of Jane's refusal of Rochester scripted from the book, as the screenwriter did in other spots. I think they missed the central (and most religious!) aspects here. Also, when she returns to Rochester he has a horrible shaggy beard that she kisses. It is like watching her lick a bird's nest. Not great.

All in all, I was deeply satisfied. Clearly, so were Jane and Rochester:

My next review: WICKED. Showtime tonight at 7:30!

Five Most Influential Books

2011-04-18T17:21:00.003-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, a friend was looking for book recommendations for her 10 year old who happens to read as well, if not as maturely, as a junior in high school. It was fun to read the list generated and I felt deeply gratified that the same great books are being rediscovered generation after generation. I also had opportunity this week to re-read A Wrinkle in Time, surely one of the most influential books I read as a child. It caused me to reflect that the books that have had the greatest impact on me are all books that I read before I turned 18.

Do you remember the always delightful You've Got Mail? There is a line in that movie when Meg Ryan's character is giving an impassioned defense of the importance of childhood reading to Tom Hank's character (Joe Fox--F.O.X.). She says, "When you read something as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does . . ." Amen, Kathleen Kelly. Later, when her store closes, all of the old crowd comes to by books and mourn the passing of a special place from childhood. One woman says, "I was standing right there when your mother gave me my first copy of Anne of Green Gables. Read it with a Kleenex, she said." I get teary even now just thinking about Matthew's death.

I also have realized that my most influential books are not necessarily my favorite, and that the first list is easier to pare down than the second. So here are my Five Most Influential Books, in no order but alphabetical, with a list of honorable mentions afterward. Feel free to share all of your delicious memories.

1. A Wrinkle in Time. Madeline L'Engle. This book is so wonderful. I still remember precisely what the cover of my first Yearling paperback edition looked like, and my feeling on Christmas morning when I picked it up. I don't think a week passed before I'd read it at least once. My most recent reading emphasized to me why this book mattered so much to me: it was the first science fiction (NOT fantasy) novel I'd ever read--a young adult genre rather tricky to come by--and L'Engle seamlessly blends science with God and love and loyalty and religion until one begins to see that all of these are really just different aspects of the same thing. I think Jedi Knight is almost ready for this one. I can hardly wait.

2. Anne of Green Gables. L.M. Montgomery. Well, duh. This book probably makes half of all such lists. I'm not sure why this book mattered so much to me. Anne is a lovely, quirky mixture of ambition and intelligence and domestic goddess. She is sassy in a time when sassy was downright edgy instead of the uncomfortable norm. She's a red-head for crying out loud. What is not to love? The entire series is wonderful--Montgomery is a clever and delightful storyteller, but only this first, lovable volume is a young adult novel, at least from Anne's perspective. Volume 8 is a war story told from the viewpoint of her youngest daughter, Rilla. In the war, Anne's tender-hearted, Gilbert look-alike, poet son dies. I cry because I love Walter, of course, but mostly because I worry about Anne. She is so real to me that I almost think there is a place I might be able to one day go and meet her. I suppose my imagination will have to do.

3. The Grapes of Wrath. John Steinbeck. The darkest selection on my list, by far. There is a passage in this book that reads thus:

Burn coffee for fuel in the ships. Burn corn to keep warm, it makes a hot fire. Dump potatoes in the rivers and place guards along the banks to keep the hungry people from fishing them out. Slaughter the pigs and bury them, and let the putrescence drip down into the earth.

There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificates--died of malnutrition--because the food must rot, must be forced to rot.

The people come with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards hold them back; they come in rattling cars to get the dumped oranges, but the kerosene is sprayed. And they stand still and watch the potatoes float by, listen to the screaming pigs being killed in a ditch and covered with quicklime, watch the mountains of oranges slop down to a putrefying ooze; and in the eyes of the people there is a failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.

I read a tribute to Steinbeck in which the author used the above quote saying, "If this doesn't get your blood racing, you're never going to love John Steinbeck." I was 16 going on 17 and in a very hokey English class and it got my blood racing. "There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation . . . there is a failure here that topples all our success. . . ." I never looked at capitalism or politics the same after I read this book. I felt like a grown-up; I felt trusted to think and learn. Parents sometimes complain to me that schools work too hard to indoctrinate their children with liberal ideas. But they are wrong: real teachers don't indoctrinate. They open doors. Sometimes a child enters a door through which they don't turn back. Steinbeck's words always ring through my ears when I see a hungry child. How much poorer my life would be if I had missed this novel!

4. The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. C.S. Lewis. I think it is important to note here that the book that trumps the other four is the Book of Mormon. If not for that book, every single aspect of my life would be completely different. For this exercise I wanted to look outside the scriptures. I do bring up that point here, however, because this book of Lewis' was the first time Christianity sunk in to me. And it wasn't on my first reading. But I do remember the day it occurred to me that Lewis was really talking about something much more than Lions and stone tables and cool magic to avoid the death of the main character. It was probably also the first time I realized and understood about symbolism, and that authors use this trick all of the time. I sat with Susan and Lucy when Alsan was humiliated and killed . . . . and I had a brief glimpse of insight to what that horrible day at Calvary must have been like. But Aslan reminds us that dying brings new birth, and that we are bought with a price. All seven volumes contain a multitude of Biblical references--Genesis, Exodus, Isaiah, The Gospels, Revelations--it is clear that Lewis' intentions were much deeper than young adult literature.

5. Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen. Again, to quote from Kathleen Kelly, "I confess I've read Pride and Prejudice about a hundred times. I get caught up in the language. Words like thither." I think I have waxed poetic on this blog enough times about this book. THE book. I was probably 12 when I read it the first time. And, wait for it, deeply disappointed that Elizabeth didn't end up with Wickham. Or at least that he turned out to be such a weasel. Little did I understand yet about the attraction of a man who will change everything he is just for a chance to hold your hand. *sigh* Time to re-read, I think. It has maybe been six months. . . .

Short-list Honorable mentions--Heidi, A Seperate Peace, Three Cups of Tea (even with the current controversy), Heart of Darkness, Little Women, The Jungle, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Blue Sword . . .

Should Have Taken a Picture

2011-04-12T16:24:00.004-06:00

The roasted vegetable sauce last night wasn't good. It was awesome. The above picture? Not so much. It came from some where else. Though, on the upside, while looking for a great picture I found a whole blog that is great.

The recipe below made two generous helpings, so probably more like 4 if you are into something called "moderation." It is a radical idea I haven't quite gotten my head around yet.

Roasted Vegetable Sauce over Polenta

Polenta

3 1/4 cups water
1 tsp salt
1 cup cornmeal
3 Tbsp butter (plus more for frying polenta)

Sauce

2 Medium Tomatoes
1 large red pepper
2 small zucchini squashes
1 head of garlic
1/4 cup fresh basil

Boil water and salt (if your butter is salted, you my want to halve this amount). Add cornmeal and reduce heat to low. Whisk rapidly for two or three minutes until all water is absorbed, and the cornmeal is smooth and thick. Remove from heat and add butter, whisking until melted and creamy. Spread the polenta into a lightly buttered (or sprayed) 8 (or 9) inch square casserole dish, making the top as even as possible and of uniform thickness. Refrigerate until completely cooled so that it can be cut--about two hours.

To roast vegetables: Halve and seed the tomatoes and place them skin side down on a baking pan. Quarter the pepper and put it skin side down also. Cut the ends off the zucchini and slice length-wise and lay peel-side down. Cut the top of the head of garlic off, exposing the heads. Brush everything generously with a mixture of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Add pepper (fresh, if you have it) and salt. Roast at 425 degrees for 20 to 25 minutes. Remove from oven and cool.

To assemble your dish before dinner, remove the polenta from the fridge and cut it in to 8 rectangles. In a non-stick pan (iron skillet is perfect), heat (medium) a combination of butter and olive oil. Be generous. The butter will help flavor the polenta, but the oil will not burn as quickly. While your oil heats, peal the skin from your cooled peppers and tomatoes. It should come off easily. Place all of your tomatoes in a blender (I used a Magic Bullet because the amount was so small.) along with half of the red pepper and zucchini. Scoop the soft, sweet garlic from the heads and add it to the blender with the basil. Puree this mixture.

Add the polenta to the butter pan. You want to cook it fast enough that it gets a crusty shell instead of just being greasy, but slow enough that it doesn't burn. You should only turn it once. About five minutes on each side.

While the polenta cooks, puree your vegetables and add them to a sauce pan. Chop the remaining roasted zucchini and peppers to add some chunkiness to the sauce. When the sauce heats through, taste. Add ins for more flavor might include dried oregano (could also be added in the roasting phase), red pepper flakes, salt, pepper, and balsamic vinegar.

When the polenta is cooked on both sides, serve immediately with the sauce spooned on to the top (it will be thick). Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and garnish with more basil.

We ate it with a side salad and homemade bread sticks.

AWESOME.

Oh, and I did find this. If you don't want to puree the veggies, just grill them and serve polenta by the slice (use a pie plate) with your favorite marinara from a jar. THIS is up for next week. And on a sciencey vegetarian note, serving squash and corn together makes a complete protein.

Vegetarian Fare

2011-04-11T17:44:00.003-06:00

Last week was a great food week. Besides the recipes listed below, I also made Moroccan chicken in my crockpot--heavy on the veggies, light on the chicken. Plantboy made this meal one night:

It looked almost that pretty. He cleverly added carrots too. The leftover dressing was great later in the week on fajitas.

Our vegetarian selections this week include:

Big Salad (lettuce, black beans, quinoa, corn, green onion, cilantro, lime, etc.)
Roasted Vegetable Sauce over Polenta

The second is on the list for tonight. I hope it is fabulous. I'm very excited. If it is good then I will put up a recipe.

Looking For Readers

2011-04-03T16:22:00.002-06:00

I am trying to get some feedback on the finished novel from 5-10 people, though I have to say that I doubt any of you are in the true target demographic. I'll give the rundown synopsis, then you can email or leave a message here if you are interested in seeing a copy.

The title is Snow White and Rose Red: A Tale of Two Sisters and is a retelling of a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale. The protagonists are in their late teens during most of the story events, and at its heart this story is a coming-of-age young adult novel. The elements of magic are not too heavy, but it is certainly a fantasy novel. I only used the original story as a springboard, trying to turn some of its more traditional (and downright strange) elements on their head.

If you volunteer to read then, as before, I will send you an electronic copy of the manuscript (as a PDF file this time, hopefully) and a few general guidelines for what I am looking for--things I have concerns about. Suggestions are awesome and welcome about any aspect of the novel on which you care to comment.

Recipe Help??

2011-04-01T10:30:00.003-06:00

I am trying to switch our family over to a more vegetarian-based diet. Lots of reasons.

What I do NOT have a lot of are recipe ideas, or tricks for eating more vegetarian.

This week's vegetarian fare will include the following:

* Rolled Lasagne with meatless sauce, salad and rosemary-lemon bread

* Black Bean and Corn salad with quinoa

What have you got that I can try next week? I'd like to experiment with curries and polenta and squashes and beans. Tofu, not so much.

Spring Break 1994

2011-03-26T14:44:00.006-06:00

Though not as fun as last year's spring break trip to the Redwoods, our break this year has been equally memorable. It will best be told through pictures, but not today. Today I am going to flash back seventeen years.

Just typing that seems preposterous, for some of the events from that spring still seem as fresh as if they happened this year. This is the story of my spring break freshman year. Before you get excited for juicy tales of some hedonistic lifestyle choices, I should tell you that this is not that kind of story. That I don't actually have any stories like that. And, well, if you like that sort of thing you should just find another blog to read.

My roommate, Pocohantas (the original Naked Mole Rat, I've mentioned her before), started college with a boyfriend. He wasn't exactly "in tow" as he stayed behind in our home town, a scant hour away. He put off a serious pursuit of college while waiting to go on his mission. I hesitate to say "preparing" to go on a mission, because like many other young men in his position, he worked a little and played a lot. Pocohantas, on the other hand, hit the ground running at college. She wanted to be an optometrist and had to support herself through college and so she had little time to waste.

The summer between high school and college was one of those idyllic times for Pocohantas and Beau. (I had half a summer like that once.) They left their childhoods behind with a bang: drive-in movies, bridge-jumping, a backpacking trip to the Continental Divide, hanging out at the dam, waterskiing . . .

As Beau's birthday wasn't until the spring, he was a frequent weekend visitor at our apartment. When he didn't come, Pocohantas went home. Besides dating Beau, she also worked a part time job selling wedding dresses to bridezillas every Saturday. Her schedule intensified as her classes got harder, science classes designed to select against all but the very fittest. Money grew tighter than expected and she took another job at a local sweatshop making back packs every afternoon.

It is entirely possible that as Pocahontas got busier, Beau got more laid back. He took a few cursory classes at the college, but spent a big chunk of the winter skiing. Pocahontas hated the skiing, though not because it represented just how uninterested Beau was in growing up, but because he was such a daredevil. She finally had to ask him just to stop telling her the stories because they made her freak out.

Yes, this is a spring break story, bear with me through a bit more back story. In November of 1993, a beloved Aunt, in her early 30's was diagnosed with malignant colon cancer after dealing with flu-like symptoms for nearly two months. She was given an open and shut operation the over Thanksgiving holidays. Opened to cut out the offending portion of the colon, and closed when the doctor saw that her abdomen was filled with cancer, and that full surgical removal was impossible. They began an aggressive course of treatment.

Beau received his mission call to Washington D.C., and as young men are prone to do (and, admittedly, young women), he became even more protective of the time that he and my roommate had together. And though he never asked Pocahontas to "wait" for him, it was clear that his fondest hope was that she would still be around when he came back. You see, he had loved her enough to change his whole life for her. Early on in high school, he was headed down a road that wouldn't bring him any happiness, but after meeting Pocahontas, he wanted to do whatever it took to be her guy. Beau was the perfect combination of rebel-factor and Darcy Effect. But even as he turned his life around, he never lost that mischievous charm that made him so much fun.

Back in the day, USU was on quarters, and so Spring Break was preceded by Winter Semester finals. Apartment 41 was a madhouse of caffeine, late nights, oddly-timed power naps and b.o. Early in that busy week, Beau called Pocahontas, with no little frustration over her inability to commit to spending more time with him. He would, after all, be leaving in just over two weeks. Even during the break she was scheduled to work every day at the gown shop. Just before hanging up with a few cursory endearments, he said, "You are spending spring break with me. One way or another."

Then came other phone calls.

The first was my newly-engaged older brother to tell me that he had been scheduled for emergency surgery during spring break because of a birth defect that had caused his lung to partially, spontaneously collapse.

Another call came from my mom. A childhood friend had been involved in a terrible car accident in a late Utah snow storm. She was in intensive care with her jaw wired shut and a leg full of pins.

The third call came from my mom also. My aunt, just over four months after diagnosis, had died. Her funeral would be over spring break. She was survived by a young, grieving husband and four shell-shocked kids ages 2-12.

But it was the fourth call that really turned the world upside down.

It was for Pocahontas.

Beau had been in a bad skiing accident. He had been life-flighted to the hospital and was in intensive care in very unstable condition. He would spend three months in a coma. And he was right--Pocahontas spent every single day of Spring Break with him.

On the first day of the break, my dad had to drive to eastern Utah to look at an area near where his company was bidding a road construction job. It was the middle of nowhere. He invited me to come along and I went for it, knowing that I could spend hours in the car and not really need to talk if I didn't want to. I didn't.

When we arrived at our destination, I got out of the car and walked around a bit, staring out over the sparse, still un-vegetated landscape. And I asked a lot of questions. I'm not sure if I directed them at God, who wasn't my favorite Person at that point, or just threw them out to the universe, but I know that for the first time I really questioned the meaning of existence, and the worth of all I'd been taught. I suddenly felt very strongly that I had to know if religion in general, and mine specifically, was just a series of fairytales people had invented in a lame attempt to feel better when awful things happened, or if the things I'd always been taught were truth. THE Truth.

Later that week, I sat in the car at a rain-soaked cemetery waiting for everyone to arrive at the internment. As I looked out the foggy window, I saw my uncle standing at the graveside in a black trenchcoat and holding a black umbrella. His three oldest children clung to his legs and his baby, with his sprinkling of freckles and his mother's red hair, cuddled against his shoulder as if he would never let go. Even now, 17 years later, it is a picture that still comes unbidden to me sometimes, a constant reminder that each life is fleeting and that things shouldn't be left unsaid.

On that day, I questioned more than ever.

In the months to come, I got serious about my questions. I spent many hours on my knees, pleading for peace and revelation. And then, it came. I still remember the chair in which I was sitting, the book that I was reading, and the words that settled with such clarity on my heart. I've never regressed to the person I was before that time.

Pocahontas continued her biweekly visits to Beau's bedside throughout the spring--even when they moved him to a hospital two hours away. Always the most social and outgoing girl in our class, she became withdrawn, tired and alone. My heart ached to help her, knowing that I had so little to give that she needed. Already a young woman of remarkable faith, her own questions were probably deeper than mine. When she happened to be around, we would spend our time in deep conversations. I remember her saying to me once that so many people kept telling her things happened for a reason, that there were lessons to be learned from each situation, that God was always in charge. She hoped nothing she had to learn in life would be so important that Beau and his family had to suffer so terribly. I cried when she said it and told her I didn't think it worked that way. But I'm still not sure.

What I do know is that the Lord can bless us with peace and knowledge even when your whole world is falling apart. I learned that a broken heart is finally soft enough to accept what the Lord wants to give you.

In the aftermath of that awful week, my brother was fine. His lung was repaired and has had no trouble with it since. My friend also came through her accident with flying colors. She now has four beautiful little girls. My uncle has finally come to a place of great happiness and my family has witnessed miracle after miracle in the lives of his children. I firmly believe that my aunt is watching over those much-loved children from the other side and is helping them in many ways. They are some of the strongest twenty-something adults that I know and each is making their mother proud.

As for Beau . . .

I mentioned before that he was in a coma for more than three months. He finally woke up, but he never really came back. He was paralyzed from the waist down because of trauma to his spinal cord. In addition, a massive brain hemorrhage, likely caused on impact, created stroke-like conditions for him, causing him to lose most of the use of one of his hands. It also gave him problems with slurred speech, destroyed his short-term memory, and left him locked in the mind of a six year-old. Remarkably, his happy personality persisted, though his face traded twinkling mischief for disarming innocence. Everyone who knew Beau in the after years loved him. And Pocahontas still did.

Two years later she met a wonderful guy and said the hardest thing about getting engaged was having to tell Beau, but especially his parents. To Beau, hardly any time had passed. He was still going to serve a mission. Still going to marry Pocahontas. Still going to be a star. But to his parents, my friend's happy news reminded them of how much they loved her too, and that she would never be a true part of their lives.

Beau left this life last weekend, in a tragic turn of events that also claimed the lives of his parents. When I heard the news, I, like everyone who had any contact with the family, was shocked and horrified. I found myself again on my knees, pleading for that peace. I know now that some things are beyond understanding, but the Lord can always send peace.

Saturday morning, one of my paper customers left me a lovely bouquet of yellow daffodils. I cried as I picked them up, their cheery faces reminding me that spring always comes again. That the atonement and forgiveness is real. That God's grace makes resurrection and eternal families possible. I was reminded of those lessons learned through the furnace of affliction so many years ago.

Later that day it occurred to me that now Beau is getting a chance to serve the kind of mission he had one day hoped to. And though it isn't a fairy tale, happily ever after really is possible. Good-bye, friend. Your life and suffering weren't in vain. You touched so many lives for good. Everyone who knew you is better for it.

In the Middle of the Chaos . . .

2011-03-18T22:53:00.005-06:00

I finished a 330 page draft.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

I am so excited.

This week has been nuts, and we are entirely over-committed (which includes tiling the kitchen and celebrating the ever-adorable Plantboy's birthday) but I just have to tell someone.

I am going to spend the next month doing my own edit. There are at least 50 pages that are very nearly a free write--unless you count all the writing I do in my head when I don't have time to sit. Anyway, I am going to do a comprehensive edit on my own.

Then a peer review (looking for takers).

Then I have a contact who can hook me up to get some actual feedback from an actual editor at an actual publishing company.

Actually, I'm feeling pretty good today.

My stories nearly always come to me first as dialogued scene between two characters. I flesh out ideas from there, but each project I've finished will come to me in bits and flashes, again usually with dialogue. I will write sections all over the place and then create bridges to join them all up. I finished my last bridge last night. These connections are the hardest for me and where my stories bog down; because they are the rising action bits in between the best stuff, they are also the hardest to get motivated to finish.

I can hardly begin to express how excited I am for this project. The idea came to me in the Fall of 2009, and I've pretty much abandoned all other projects (at least on paper) since. Fifteen months is actually a really good record for me. I have a fantasy novel that is one or two chapters shy of a completion (clocking in at around 400 pages) that I started in the year 2000. I keep wanting to revisit it, but I can't help shaking the feeling that it is actually part of a trilogy. The MIDDLE part of a trilogy. Who do I think I am, George Lucas?

Did I mention how excited I am for this project?

Did I mention how much the love and support you folks give me in this environment has helped to shape me as a writer the last few years? No? Well, if publishing is ever in the cards for me, at least one of my books (though not the first) is going to be dedicated to the Blogger community at Nomad. Your empathy and belief in my ability and almost daily source of encouragement has been invaluable. Thanks for sharing your journey with me.

Looking Forward to the Next Parenting Crisis

2011-03-10T09:19:00.005-07:00

Alternately Titled: What I Would Do With the $100 Million Jackpot

Jedi Knight has been taking karate since September. I chose this particular dojo, out of several choices, because its flexibility is awesome. He can go any day of the week because the general beginners' class is offered at the same time each day. He can go four times monthly, and if I up my monthly payment, he could go as often as he wanted. It has been good for him. He has learned some discipline and focus. He is getting better all the time. Some of the instructors I like better than others, though admittedly I don't get to stay and watch him as often as I like, so I'm not always sure how his classes go down.

What I had not counted on was the karate being quite as . . . well. . . self-important as the folks running the dojo make it seem. I appreciate that it is serious to them. That it is not a game or a costume party. But what I'm not crazy about is the secretary who makes me feel like a pariah when I ask questions about the way things work regarding advancement, etc. I sometimes feel like every other parent in the place kind of gets what is going on and I don't. My questions are often met with a combination of incredulity-condescension-and "well, duh!" I'm still trying to get a read on the place because JK likes it. Quite a lot.

A bit more background and then we'll address my current situation at karate. I am a hyper-modest girl. I'm not sure how this happened. My mom didn't necessarily really push this, although there was a pretty strong level of embarrassment regarding anything related to body stuff. For whatever reason, I entered puberty very reluctantly and slowly. I was angry when my friends threw over books, Barbies and school for boys, clothes and hair. By age 10 I was practically barricading myself in the bathroom when it came time for bathing or showering. If I took too long, somebody would always bang on the door threatening to use the butter knife to break in if I didn't hurry. Bra-shopping (at least six months too late) and menarche (at least a year too early) were nightmares of mortification, in which I never wanted to look my mother in the eye again.

Enter seventh grade gym class.

Until we toured the school, it had never occurred to me that we might be required to shower in a group. I was shocked and horrified. My public pool experience was pretty limited and the before pool showering we did was always in the little outside showers. Which word is stronger than mortification? Like you probably did, I learned to change my clothes without ever actually taking my other clothes off. I learned to shower wearing underwear and just wrapping myself in a towel. My feet were always very clean. . . .

I observed a couple of things. First of all, the only girls comfortable wandering the locker room in bra and panties were the cute/popular/boyfriended girls. I was not one of these. Unfortunately, most of my friends were, and it is safe to say that the girls in my locker aisle (which we could choose) were probably the most with-it group of our class start to finish. It is a group I somehow always managed to be on the fringe of and would end up rooming with at college some years later. Some of these women are still my close friends and I love them dearly, though I'm never really quite sure how they were my group to begin with. (Oh, man, this is a whole new set of hang-ups today. I need a new label called "Living in 1987.")

Ah hem. Back to the topic. My second observation from my locker room days is that the only girls comfortable showering uninhibited in front of everyone were the girls who already carried very bad reputations before we turned 13. I still remember this one girl . . . .

Okay, let's not go there.

Our gym teacher complained that somebody stunk. I thought it was a stupid accusation: I didn't smell anyone, and none of us were working hard enough to actually sweat. Still, she stood with the clipboard to watch each of us shower. For a grade. She later uncloseted as a lesbian.

Really.

College was awkward with the same pretty friends and their low inhibitions. Why is it easier to put on makeup in just a bra then it is just to put on a shirt, for crying out loud?? Now I live with four men, but my modesty principles have not loosened up much. Even when my kids were babies I didn't let them in the shower, or even the bathroom with me. I would lock them into the bouncy seat just outside the door and jealously guard my private time. My modesty. When my midwife and I went over the birth plan for my first baby, I mentioned my modesty hang ups and, bless dear Happy Barnes (my midwife's actual name), she was so careful while I labored. At the public pool we regularly attend now I always use the family restroom, even when I only have my three year-old with me. The sight of women changing in front of one another and their daughters and their young sons is really pretty horrible to me. Nursing was perpetually awkward for me and I was never really comfortable doing so in front of other people.

Out in public we cover, cover, cover. Why is it that the moment we step into a changing room it is okay to . . . . and I don't think I'll ever quite get over going to early morning water aerobics with my 70ish grandmother and her friends. I wish I had gone out into the 20 degree morning in my damp hair and clothes rather than be haunted by the elephantine memories of that public dressing room experience.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying this is necessarily right or normal and certainly not any kind of an LDS requirement for virtuous living. It is just me.

And because parents do, I have transmitted some of this to my kids. Jedi Knight showers with the door shut and often locked. He is bothered when people enter his room while he is changing. I have urged bathroom privacy for each child. We have decided to be a non-sleepover family and have spoken with all the kids at length about when and for whom it is appropriate to change your clothing.

Back to karate. When we started karate in the summer, they were meeting in a small and temporary dojo while construction was completed on another. Each child wore their "gi" (the white outfit) to karate. We were careful with it--ONLY to and from karate and kept clean and folded. In mid-October, the new dojo opened and we began going there. I noticed that a lot of kids in the class after JK changed at karate. Maybe even a majority. There is some kind of a group changing area with lockers in one area. Because the next class is comprised of teenagers and adults, I assumed they changed at the dojo because they came from school or work and it was convenient.

Not necessarily so, as I was firmly told on Monday. You see, everyone at the dojo is required to wear street clothes, and change there. Everyone. I was told that there are some lingering kids still making the mistake of changing at home because they allowed it over the summer. Not only is JK my modesty-boy, but he is also very resistant to change. I could see him shutting down as strict-secretary-girl was laying down the law. She explained her reasoning--the Gi is not a costume, they stay cleaner, the kids take greater responsibility, etc. etc. She confirmed that even the four and five year olds at his class are changing their clothes, in the group room, prior to class.

I explained to her that he and I had spoken a lot about modesty and that he had been instructed never to change clothes in front of other people. That it was a thing our family valued. She emphasized that she monitored the room carefully while kids were in there and listened for any talk that wasn't related to changing, and that it was a RULE for crying out loud. Seeing my discomfort, the dojo owner remarked that it would be appropriate for him to change in one of the stalls in the men's bathroom. I conceded that this would work.

Now if I can just convince Jedi "I'm-not-really-comfortable-with-this" Knight that he can go for the compromise.

On my way home from the encounter, all of my horrible junior high PE emotions came back to me. I went to college the year of the huge Skyview High scandal that brought hazing in high school sports into the national spotlight and began a discussion about where does "boys will be boys" cross the line into brutalizing sexual harassment. In a classic case of blame the victim, the young man was told that unless he apologized to the team for having sought police involvement in the case, then he was off the team. The perpetrators didn't even get a slap on the wrist.

Recent studies and practices at some high performing middle schools demonstrate that doing PE in the morning (actual PE, not avoid-the-dodge-ball-and-gossip-for-25-minutes) increases academic performance. I'm a believer in this. The dream school I design in my head all of the time is a 6-12. PE and Health would be a major part of the required curriculum. Every year. Equipment. Classes. Martial Arts. Nutrition. Disease. etc. . . . but if something couldn't be done about completely re-envisioning locker rooms, I could never really get behind it. Individual showers. Stalled changing rooms. Gym teachers with more important tasks to fill their time than watching young kids shower to earn points.

We may have averted the karate crisis. I think by the time our next lesson rolls around I will have him talked into a compromise that works for the dojo and for our family.

But what will I do in middle school? When my quirky, smart, small boys who haven't been weaned onto a diet of team sports are confronted with a locker room dilemma which I find pretty offensive? A place that, almost by design, strives to separate the kids into a social stratification that persists for years and erodes self-esteem. Kids can be so cruel, and I've been around teenage kids more than a little bit. I know the kind on which some of them prey. They are the little men I love more than I love my own life. The system, as it stands, forces kids to be at their most vulnerable around one another just when they are getting smart enough to learn exactly whom they should never "strip" in front of.

Oh! I know we can't take away their hurts, but I don't want to throw them to the lions' den either!

Relief

2011-03-07T09:16:00.003-07:00

I did it.

I had THE TALK with Jedi Knight.

Two different events in the last week convinced me that it was time, and finally after months of thought and prayer (really, I'm pretty uptight when it comes to finding JUST THE RIGHT WORDS), the exact words and approach I needed finally came.

Ideally, I would have naturally answered questions as they arose, but there weren't enough questions asked in proportion to what he needed to know.

It was great. Uplifting. Science, spirit and love-based. He came away with a hug and smile, and the knowledge that he can ask his mother about anything. Piece of cake.

*whew*

Onto the next major challenge.

Movies Are To Film As Pulp Fiction Is To Literature

2011-03-03T10:21:00.006-07:00

I apologize for the couplet-title. I'm studying for the Miller Analogy Test and I'm thinking in analogous phrases.

In junior high my best friend was a Mafiaphile. While other young women (aka, me) fantasized about being a Bennet girl or at least living in 18th century England, Kate imagined the romance of being a Corleon matriarch. She also dragged me through the shadowy underground of R-rated movies. Growing up in white-bread Utah, I didn't realize that said shadowy underground mostly exists in minds of members of the Church, and that to other people such a rating didn't particularly influence movie-watching choices. Especially R-rated movies circa the 1980's. As Kate and I made our way each weekend through another gangster movie, I felt delightfully rebellious. And though my Italy-fever never reached my friend's near-obsession, I actually really enjoyed all of the contra-band.

Kate and I didn't stay BFF's. (I guess the label is misnomer.) My new peer group was very anti R-rated movies and, at the time, the Church issued the first edition of its youth pamphlet titled, "For the Strength of Youth" which carried a firm warning against viewing any movie rated R. The line in the sand was more than enough for me and some years passed without me watching any others.

Enter The Mistake. Despite his church-ish demeanor (at least around me), he had few qualms about such viewing. When I had been home from my mission just a month we had already seen Air Force One (actually cool and thought provoking), The Full Monty (hilarious) and The Rock (wrong on nearly every level). The irony, of course, is that of all the movies we saw together (what else did we do, after all?) the trashiest two were both rated PG-13. The first Austin Powers, during which I ultimately had to leave the room; and Titanic. Okay, okay, there are some awesome things about Titanic, but I thought it was highly overrated and plenty heavy on the Tit. Though I'm sure The Mistake was thinking about how artistic Kate Winslet was as she disrobed for her paramour.

Yes, yes, "trashy" is a relative word and certainly in the eye of the beholder. The other strange thing, to me, is that in Australia there is no "R" rating. Most movies in the US that get a PG-13 OR and R rating are labeled "M" for mature in Oz. Every member of the Church I knew went to a wide variety of "M" movies, several of which I knew to be rated "R"in the US. Oooo. . . .even "good" members of the Church.

Not long after returning from my mission, the Church issued a second edition of the Strength of Youth booklet, counseling specifically ONLY against pornography. The header scripture for the section is an excerpt from the 13th Article of Faith, "If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things." The new emphasis on the section is on the dangers of immersing yourself in media of any type that causes of a loss of the Spirit. And that is pretty much it.

There are a variety of opinions on this: some say that the standard is therefore stricter than ever. That there are plenty of even PG rated movies that can't make the cut here, and virtually none of the other movies with their seedier ratings are appropriate, just by virtue of all that can be allowed in movies that have those ratings. Others have gone just the opposite and say that now it doesn't matter what we watch, and that we should just exercise a particle of caution. My own view is more in the middle, though I've definitely gone to the side of more caution and with a reversion to the standard from my teenage yars.

In our married life, Plantboy and I have only rented R-rated movies on two ocassions. One was not a bad movie at all (and I'm still a little confused about the rating); the other was a bloodbath predicated by characters with bloodlust and covered with loads of bloody blood after most scenes. With Mel Gibson. I guess that image should be pretty clear.

We have never paid to go to the theatre to see one; though, admittedly, I've seen plenty of PG-13 and even PG movies that could not pass the 13th Article of Faith Litmus Test.

So it is with the background that I stood in line to buy tickets for The King's Speech last Friday night. I felt anxious. Naughty. Like a 14 year old boy trying to sneak into a porn film . . .

Okay, maybe not THAT bad, but I don't think I've ever paid, personally to see an over-17. The young man behind the counter hesitated, ever so briefly, when I told him what I wanted. No doubt, he was waiting for his computer screen to tell him that, yes, there were still seats available, but I thought he was going to ask for my ID, though I blow past the over 17 thing by more than double. He stared at me lazily, his mood clearly out of step with my shaking hands.

We are so conditioned.

The King's Speech is a movie about loyalty, bravery, war, true love, patriotism, friendship, family, overcoming, suffering . . . Along with such grand themes, every other aspect of what makes film making (and literature) interesting is also present--brilliant juxtaposition, careful characterization, mood and pacing. From the opening minute, you feel such an intense connection to the main character (it IS Mr. Darcy, after all), that you already begin rooting for him. The humanity of this story is truly remarkable.

The film is praising of virtue. It is Lovely. Of good report. Praiseworthy. I came away uplifted, and with a greater conviction to treat others with kindness, to understand their story. Do not miss this film, but seek after this thing as soon as you have opportunity.

So, in other news, I've been very busy. (And I don't just mean breaking commandments that don't actually exist.) I've discovered the graduate program I want to be a part of and am working on my application. My friend and I backed away from running the BIG race because we couldn't get enough support, but we are running a half-marathon at the end of July and I'm making a rather weak effort to train for that. Plantboy was in charge of last weekend's ward party; and, of course, that meant we were co-chairs. Church in general has kept us ridiculously busy. The novel-writing is progressing: slowly but surely. I have maybe 30 pages left to finish a 300 page manuscript. At that point, that is where YOU will come in. I will definitely be soliciting readers. I'm making my six year old a blanket out of granny squares.

Oh, and I un-closeted myself as a registered Democrat the other day on Facebook which generated a very interesting discussion with 65 comments. No, not all of them were mine. Sheesh, if I had that much to say I would just start a blog where I spend an unhealthy amount of time writing/thinking/discussing politics and religion. . . . wait a minute . . .

Overheard at Home Pre-School

2011-02-22T11:48:00.008-07:00

"Jesus made our bodies." Yes, He did, I affirmed in the simplest explanation available to a barely three year-old, who is not my child. Her statement made me slightly guilty. Our theme today was, in part, the letter "E" and for snack we were making elephant ears. Fry bread the size of a basketball hoop covered in sugar. Guilty because it isn't exactly the healthiest snack for little God-given bodies.

It's all about the theme right?

Around a mouthful of fry-bread she added, "Jesus gave me a boba."

Um . . . okay?

"And Jesus gave my brother a penis."

Oh! So at your house you use the correct word for male anatomy, but not female, apparently.

My own baby Jedi pipes up and says, "Boba is green."

"No!! My boba's not green. It's by my bum."

"Yes. Boba is green."

I realized, in time to break up any further argument or proof from the little girl ready to pull her pants down, that THIS:

was the Boba in question.

And The Youngling is right. His armor is green. I'll have to take Miss Visitor's word for the rest.

Almost as funny as the language misunderstanding between two pre-schoolers however, was finding this picture while looking for Mr. Fett.

The title of this gem? "Boba Fett is My Dad." And while my inclination is to offer my condolences, it is important to note that the child looks ridiculously happy. This picture came from a blog post boasting 40 BOBA FETTS. It is more than possible that nobody here (except maybe TamathyC) geeks out on this kind of stuff the way I do, but can anyone offer an explanation, psychological or cultural or otherwise, for how Boba Fett, a character with only a single line in the original trilogy, became such a cult-classic?

Officially Filed Under "Duh"

2011-02-16T12:16:00.003-07:00

This story appeared in my local newspaper today:

NASHVILLE, Tenn. - Billy Ray Cyrus says the Disney TV show "Hannah Montana" destroyed his family, causing his divorce and sending daughter Miley Cyrus spinning out of control.

In a December interview published in the Feb. 22 issue of GQ Magazine, Cyrus said he wished the show that launched his daughter to pop stardom had never happened.

"I hate to say it, but yes, I do. Yeah. I'd take it back in a second," Cyrus said. "For my family to be here and just be everybody OK, safe and sound and happy and normal, would have been fantastic. Heck, yeah. I'd erase it all in a second if I could."

Cyrus and his wife, Tish, filed for divorce in October. They have three kids together — Miley is the oldest — and two from Tish's previous marriage.

Billy Ray Cyrus said when he asked about the rumored video footage of his daughter smoking from a bong at her 18th birthday party in December, he was told it was none of his business. He refused to attend the party, saying it was wrong to have it in a bar.

Cyrus says in the interview that he tried too hard to be a friend instead of a parent to his daughter. He said he is scared for Miley and compared her current path to those of other stars whose lives ended tragically, including Kurt Cobain, Anna Nicole Smith and Michael Jackson.

"I should have been a better parent," Cyrus said. "I should have said, 'Enough is enough — it's getting dangerous and somebody's going to get hurt.' I should have, but I didn't. Honestly, I didn't know the ball was out of bounds until it was way up in the stands somewhere."

He said his entire family was baptized before leaving Tennessee for Los Angeles to protect themselves from evil, and he believes Satan is attacking his family."

Are there ANY circumstances under which you would encourage your child to become a star, or even attempt to go that direction? Is it possible for ANY teenager to properly grow up with such public scrutiny and money? I saw True Grit last weekend, and was astounded at the depth of talent and intelligence clearly on display by the young actress in the film. I am with a recent critic of the Academy Award nominations who said that is wasn't clear "exactly WHOM Hailee Steinfeld was supporting" indicating that she clearly deserved to be in the "Best Actress" category. With Miss Cyrus I've always thought, "What are her parents thinking???" and with Miss Steinfeld I can't help but think how awful it would be if she goes the same direction.

Maybe there is hope. Miss Steinfeld reports that her parents insisted she go to bed on time the night of the news release concerning Awards nominees. When her name was on the list, they came into her room and told her. The night that Miley Cyrus' most recent movie was released? She was seen lap-dancing with the director at a wrap party. She was 16. Her parents were not at the party. Satan can't get in your house unless somebody hands him the keys.

Breaking Up

2011-02-14T19:05:00.003-07:00

I am so over you, Baked Cheesecake.

Do you remember ward parties growing up, and every get together in college, somebody would bring that Jell-O No Bake Cheesecake that tasted, well, like death? Especially when somebody had the brain wave to put a can of hypo-sugar cherries on top of it?

I was actually in college before I tried this horrible stuff. A roommate made it, and I ate it (it was SUGAR, after all), but the whole time I was wearing the you've-got-to-be-kidding me face. You see, the no-bake cheesecake recipe I grew up on is the one that used to be on the back of every can of Eagle brand sweetened condensed milk. Four ingredients. Ease itself. And a family of six who fought like gladiators for the last two pieces in the pie dish.

In fact, I was in college before I even realized there was a thing called "baked cheesecake." I thought cheesecake was my mother's divine simplicity or the Jell-O monstrosity.

Discovering baked cheesecake was like wandering in the wilderness for forty years and finally glimpsing the promised land. For years I have dabbled in different recipes, and I often get it at restaurants on those rare dessert-dates. I sometimes daydream about a springform pan, half a dozen eggs and enough cream cheese to satisfy even my lusts. I have imagined myself pulling the PERFECT cheesecake from the oven, waiting patiently for complete cooling, and serving it to awed guests from far and wide.

Am I crazy?

Perhaps. But that is neither here nor there.

But today. Valentine's Day. I have created the perfect . . . no . . . no. . . you didn't misunderstand. The PERFECT dessert. You never break up unless you trade up.

STM's No Bake Cheesecake

1 graham cracker crust (I did homemade this time; I think it would be divine to use one of those pecan nut-crusts also)
2 bars cream cheese, softened
1 can sweetened condensed milk
1 large lemon
1/4 cup heavy cream
1 tsp vanilla

Beat your cream cheese with a mixer until it is fluffy and smooth. Slowly pour the sc milk into the cream cheese, continually beating. When it is smooth, add a teaspoon of lemon zest and then 2 Tbsp of fresh squeezed lemon juice. When the mixture is smooth and blended, pour in the cream, beating for another minute or two until everything is slightly fluffy. Add the vanilla and keep beating until everything is smooth. Spoon it into the crust, making sure to leave behind plenty in the bowl for liberal licking. And I mean VERY liberal.

Chill for at least five hours before serving.

Thank me later.

In other news . . . .

1- My 200-miler is now looking more like a half-marathon in July. We ended up a few short of being able to get a team together. I was rather relieved, truthfully. I started strong and then got sick for three weeks. The last week's exercise has felt a bit like starting over.

2- Our YW New Beginnings program was last Wednesday and it turned out completely cool. I wrote a really sweet little play for our girls to perform and it turned out nearly perfect. E-mail me is you do Young Women stuff in your own ward and want a copy of it.

3- I have braces. Hating that. There will not be pictures.

4- Our Relief Society teacher on Sunday quoted Hugh Nibley. Liberally. I LOVE her.

5- Wicked tickets arrived in the mail this week. Wa-hoo.

The cheesecake was the "frosting" on an amazing dinner (if I do say so myself). If you want more recipes, just let me know. I'm more than happy to share THE BEST CHICKEN EVER. Really.

A Little Controversy

2011-02-02T12:07:00.005-07:00

There is nothing like stirring people up to get the day going.

I get a regular e-mail from an on-line "magazine" of sorts called LDS Living. I believe it started when I ordered something from Deseret Book some time ago. I open it occasionally when there are news stories that look interesting or Family Home Evening ideas. Before my route this morning, and while I was trying to muster enough ambition to leave the house at 3 am in 25 degree weather despite a cold that has been lingering in various incarnations for three weeks, I opened one of these stories.

Here is the link.

The article is brief, but the upshot is that a high school with a majority LDS population decided to attend a cheer competition held on Sunday. It is a cheer competition inside Utah, with dozens of other Utah high schools participating, probably with similar demographics of LDS populations (according a commenter, anyway). Two girls told the coaches they wouldn't be going, expecting them to be understanding. They weren't.

Instead, they tried to have the girls removed from the team.

A meeting was held between parents, coaches and administration, where the parents argued that booting the girls from the team would be discriminating against them based on religion (not because they were refusing to fulfill team requirements). The coaches relented to avoid a big scene and allowed the girls to stand in the back of the main formations, with a small part so that they could be removed on competition day.

Due to scheduling conflicts, the cheerleading squad could only practice on Monday nights.

The girls complained again. This time they were booted. One of the mothers said the girls were "devastated," and the girls expressed how hard it was now to go to school and the games because they can no longer cheer. The article labeled the coaches, "unwilling to compromise."The girls' families said they don't want to make a scene.

It was very early, remember, when I read this. There were already two comments, speaking the girls' praises up and down. I had to create an account so I could make a comment.

Mine reads:

"I appreciate that what these girls did was hard for them, but the reality of my non-Utah LDS community is that our kids have to make decisions from the time they are very young to avoid competitive sports all together if they want to avoid Sunday participation. Nearly all of our youth leagues play at least a portion of their games on Sundays, and it can be very hard to find supportive coaches who are willing to tweak the schedule or work around being a man short on the Sunday games. Besides sports, LDS kids in our area seldom can attend birthday parties and a huge variety of community and school events because Sunday is the day of choice for so many activities. As a former teacher, it is also clear that the school did the best it could in the circumstances. I think the magazine blew this story way out of proportion by turning a very commonplace decision for LDS kids all over the world into a dramatic and newsworthy event."

As of noon today, there were 47 comments. Which, truthfully mostly seem to discuss my threadjack.

I'm not sure how I feel about that. I always like discussion, but I also realize I created a fair amount of conflict between people who all seem very sincere and mostly reasonable. I have not weighed in again.

I think I would like to here. What I cited above are not my only issues with the whole thing.

1 - We are talking about cheerleading, people. Cheerleading. The girls are not being denied any kind of academic activity. Remember, the ACTUAL purpose of the public school?

2 - And while we are talking about cheerleading. Just how modest ARE those uniforms? If we are going to get ticky about keeping unstated commandments, maybe that is worth addressing. (Just ask Loradona.) With the wholesome attitude toward the subjects of this article, it makes it sound as though cheerleading is some kind of inherently uplifting and virtuous activity. Not that it necessarily has to be the opposite, either; but if I had a daughter on a squad, I'd be as much concerned about certain types of dancing and uniforms as Sunday competitions.

3 - The coaches WERE accommodating. Very. They chose to allow the girls to stay on the team until they refused both to compete AND practice. There is no organization where you can just show up on performance/game/presentation day and expect to be unpunished. Maybe the coaches should have thought through signing the team up for the competition to begin with. There is no discussion from their viewpoint in the article--was a conversation held ahead of time with parents about this possibility? Did the team vote to participate? Again PUBLIC school. Nobody requires to the cheerleaders to actually do anything, or even exist for that matter.

4 - It is called a SACRIFICE, darlings. That is the whole point.

5 - And when your sacrifice is made public (the not-wanting-a-scene-mothers had to be interviewed for the thing, right?) and hundreds or thousands of people read it, and many comment on the fact that you are a "hero," doesn't this totally undermine actual spiritual growth that takes place in quiet moments of reflection and private decision making?

I want to reiterate that I can appreciate that this decision was hard for these girls, and they are to be commended for it. By their parents. But the "devastation" these girls feel shocks me with its lack of actual perspective. With its complete misunderstanding and overshadowing of the truly meaningful sacrifices young men and women make all over the worldwide Church every day. This is not a "Team Utah vs. Team Mission Field*" thing as implied by one appalled comment maker; it is a call to identify teenagers actually worthy of notice.

And here is the first one I'd like to call attention to: Sedrick Tshiambine. His story, found near end of this article, is one of true inspiration, sacrifice and dedication.

Clearly, the readership here is more selective, and probably more left of center than the mainstream US Church, and I'm interested in your take. Even if you disagree. Especially if you disagree.

* I really hate that term "mission field." I can't even begin to express why. Maybe another day. I think it is time to put the soapbox away for the day.

Your Daily PSA. Or two.

2011-01-31T07:11:00.003-07:00

I scaled back on my feelings about Tiger Mom in the comment section of the piece I wrote on the subject a couple of weeks ago. I think I might have gone too far in the scaling back department. Elizabeth Kohlbert reviewed the actual book for The New Yorker this week. Things were made clearer for me. The book is meant to be a memoir, and not a parenting manual, but Kohlbert maintains that any introspection and changing done by Tiger Mom is brief and half-hearted. Despite the reviewer's subtly disguised distaste for Ms. Chua's parenting approach, she also cites the most recent, dismal findings of how American children in the current generation are stacking up against their global counterparts. There is no justification for how poorly American children are doing academically. There is no justification for calling your children garbage when they come in second on a multiplication test either.

What is clear is that some sort of middle ground must be found soon.

Your second public service announcement is not really for the public, but it will make me feel better.

Note to the newspaper customer with the hundred year-old dog that manages, somehow, to almost daily escape the airtight security you insist exists in your backyard: I don't care how harmless you insist Houdini-dog is. I still don't want her sniffing me. Especially there. And especially at four-thirty in the morning. Oh, I hear you chuckling on the phone, insisting that your gray-muzzled beauty is harmless, and telling me it is ridiculous to be afraid of her. I'm not afraid of her! But why should delivering your paper for the dizzying sum of a dime a day cause me to bring home fleas and need to see the vet for my own, special case of mange?

Now back to your regularly scheduled life.

A Fabulous Dinner

2011-01-28T17:34:00.003-07:00

In an effort to cut through some of the drama, and because we've been sick all month here and food preparation has been bare bones, I really cooked last night. And it was good.

Tandoori Chicken
Spicy Cucumber Salad
Basmati Rice with golden raisins
Stir-fried Carrots with pine nuts
Naan bread

I didn't love my recipe for tandoori chicken. I wanted something that tasted like it, but created more of a sauce that could be used over my rice. I wasn't a big fan of the yogurt based marinades I found--they didn't add a lot of flavor and dairy doesn't really cook that well.

What I will try next time is stewing my chicken (we are strictly a boneless skinless family around here, but truthfully, thighs would probably work better) in a crock pot mixture of the following:

Lemon juice and zest
Cumin
Paprika (a LOT compared to other spices)
Coriander (my new favorite spice--bring on the experimental dishes)
Cardamom
Ginger
Garlic
Cayenne pepper (to taste)
Black pepper
Salt
A yellow onion
Tomato puree (not much)
Figs

I would let all this sit in the crock pot for several hours until the chicken can be shredded into the sauce. I want it to look like this:

Plantboy's rice concoction as a delight, as it always is. Here is a more precise recipe:

1 cup brown basmati rice
1 cup water
1 cup chicken broth
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1/2 tsp coriander
1/2 cup golden raisins
1 cinnamon stick (remove when cooked)
Black pepper
Salt

Delightful! It was so good scooped up with the chicken (dry as it was!) and with the carrots, which were just large carrots, cut on an angle and stir fried in olive oil with a handful of pine nuts. And while we are on the subject: pine nuts make almost everything nicer. At $19/pound, they better!

We have been using a lot of naan bread lately. I discovered it last summer. Served from my cupboard or fridge it is so mediocre, but served after being warmed on the stove top . . . Oh, wow. I mean WOW. Like baked scones straight from Heaven. We are using the leftovers for pizza tonight.

The last thing (which is a salad, so it really should be first!) is this recipe. I also really like this blog that it comes from. She blogs about food and hiking in Boulder, Colorado. The writing is nothing fantastic, but her pictures are gorgeous and her recipes wonderful. I sometimes think I want her life, and then I remember that I find children so much more appealing than dogs.

Light on Details; Heavy on Emotions

2011-01-26T12:38:00.004-07:00

So, looking for opinions in general here.

My calling at Church hasn't changed, but all the people working with me have. I love all of these women. A lot. I have also been familiar with them in other settings where it was all very comfortable.

The problem is that in this new setting, I'm finding that the philosophy toward YW that I've grown into over time, and suits me very well, isn't entirely compatible with the approach our new president is taking.

I'm struggling. As the only holdover from the previous group, I'm trying very hard not to be in charge. Partly because I'm NOT, and partly because I really do believe that our current leaders were called for a reason and at this time for a purpose. But it is hard for me not to be in charge, particularly when what we've had going has really been working so well.

It happened once before that I was kept as part of a YW organization shake-up; but in that case, my calling was clearly defined, narrower, and not exactly a leadership role. The rearrangement was actually great because the new president required far fewer meetings and I felt wonderfully trusted to mostly do my own thing. Very little changed for me that time around.

This time is different, however. I am trying very hard to find a balance between retaining all that we achieved with the girls in the last few years with a very small and similarly-minded group of leaders, and embracing the new and wonderful diversity that now exists in our almost full-sized YW board.

Have you ever found yourself in this place? Called to a leadership position, of sorts, where you had to seriously re-think your own approach in order to become part of the group? Or change your practices without sacrificing principles? What is your own philosophy toward the YW program? After 18 months, this is a paradigm shift I'm struggling to make, on top of a lot of other stuff going on this last month.

Definition!

2011-01-22T14:58:00.004-07:00

Last year at this time we spent two or three posts discussing what classic literature is, what it is not and sharing our favorite examples. We spent a lot of words and still didn't arrive at any specific conclusion.

Today I found one.

I read a quote from Italo Calvino (an Italian journalist who is no longer alive) that is the prefect summary. If I ever get that glorious chance to teach high school literature his words will fill the space between the white boards and the ceiling:

"A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say."

Bravo, Signor Calvino. Bravissimo.

Panda Mom

2011-01-15T07:10:00.004-07:00

Late last week, two different friends sent me the same article. It is titled "Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior," and I believe it is creating quite a lot of buzz. Plantboy had heard it talked about on NPR and the author, Amy Chua (a professor at Yale Law School) has been dubbed "Tiger Mom." The first friend who sent me the article, has five sons and is preparing to adopt a daughter. From China. This former roommate is one of the dearest friends I've ever had. She is a woman of faith and determination who somehow manages to balance her toughness with complete tenderness. Any child would be blessed to come to her family. She had little to say about the article--it left both of us equally speechless--but she did mention feeling "bad" about it, at least when she had heard the article reported on.

The second friend, a father, had an entirely different take. He suggested I write a piece talking about the expectations that Latter-day Saints parents have for their children, and ran his own bullet list of things that we do in Mormon culture that would be seen as almost bizarre, not to mention incredibly strict, to some of our friends of other faiths. His list could certainly rival Tiger Mom's expectations. Then he said something that disturbed me almost as much as my other friend's near-guilt. He indicated that part of the reason LDS parent acts this way is that in our own culture we pay great attention to what other parents do and see acts by children as a reflection on the type of parents we are. He obliquely suggested that LDS mothers, a larger stay-at-home group than the population at large, feel enormous pressure from one another to churn out perfect children, more for the sake of themselves than the children themselves.

As interesting as both of my friends comments are, and worthy of discussion, I would like instead here to address an entirely different approach to parenting than Tiger Mom's. Clearly my speechlessness didn't last. I am not talking about Eastern v. Western parenting. Even Tiger Mom points out that many moms of Chinese descent, particularly those living in the West, aren't what she terms "Chinese Mothers" because they don't follow the set mold that is the basis of her discussion. In addition, she uses the term "Western parenting" extremely loosely, so that at times I found myself in agreement with her and other times nearly offended at her implications.

Before I get going, it is important to point out that I don't begrudge Tiger Mom's right to parent how she wishes. I remember some years ago there was a young Cuban boy whose mother and father were divorced. The mother, who had family in the US, absconded with the boy in violation of a joint-custody agreement and attempted to make the crossing to the US. On their journey, the mother died and the boy was united with his Florida relatives who then tried to petition the US government to get custody of the child so he wouldn't have to be returned to his Communist father. No US politician would weigh in seriously in favor of the relatives, recognizing the slippery slope that we embarked upon when we began judging parents as unfit simply because we disagreed with their political beliefs. With that rather lengthy aside, I am only emphasizing that just because I reject emphatically Tiger Mom's tactics, I don't reject her right, or any parent's right, to create a home that reflects their values (within the law, of course).

My fundamental problem with Tiger Mom is not that she is strict, or that she has nearly impossible expectations, it is that her parenting approach is rule-based instead of value-based. I should clarify: parents who make rules the priority probably do have values, but they don't find it necessary to explain these to their children, only to enforce the rules. Similarly, value-based parenting also has rules, but both parents AND the children understand the purpose of the rules. In the first method, the family unit ends up serving the rules which are rigid and sometimes arbitrary or based on tradition. In the second method, the rules serve the family and there is inherent flexibility when things aren't working.

I'll provide an example.

Tiger Mom says that her children, two daughters, are not allowed to play an instrument other than piano or violin, nor are they allowed NOT to play either the piano or the violin. It is a family rule. So is practicing said instrument up to three hours daily.

Okay. Music is certainly a worthy pursuit.

But here is what a values-based parent says. "I want my children to learn self-discipline, diligent hard work, responsibility and be free of anxiety when performing in front of other people." To that end, the child in this scenario would be encouraged and allowed to do a team or individual sport, martial arts, dance, art, drama (Tiger Mom's greatest fear), or any musical instrument of their choosing. Or, heaven forbid, some combination of these.

The first child is valued for strict compliance, excelling and adherence to tradition in their perfect reflection of mother's wishes. The second child is valued for their choice and individuality and unique expression of talent.

Here is a second example of the contrast, again based on Tiger Mom's own words. "My daughters were never allowed NOT to be the number one student in every subject except gym and drama." She then spends hours each day drilling her kids in their subjects, stressing that the Chinese-school model of rote memorization is superior to Western ideals of creative thinking. Other than music practice, Tiger Mom's children are allowed no recreation. If her daughters don't come in first, or especially if anything other than an A is received, coercive techniques that include withholding food, name calling and taking away other "privileges" are invoked.

Okay. Academics are very important.

The values-based parent might say, "I want my child to value education, learn all that they can and become an engaged an interested student." The child is then encouraged, supported and loved. The child's areas of excellence are stressed and encouraged in the hope that a love of learning will spread to other areas of the curriculum also. School activities are supplemented when necessary and a child doing their best is the most important thing.

The problem of parenting with rules at the center is that there is no allowance for unusual circumstances or kids. There is no leeway for mistakes or repentance or reconciliation. There is no buffer system against the inevitable trials that will come into life. A friend once told me that she believed if you went into parenting with two many preconceived ideas (rules) then you were bound to be disappointed. I can't help but wonder what Tiger Mom would have done if she had given birth to a little girl with Down's syndrome, or a boy with Asberger's. Tourettes might have sent her into spasms of horror.

I'd like to share here a few of the values my own parenting is based upon. For some of these I will draw a contrast to Tiger Mom, others not so much. It is hard to tell entirely WHAT Tiger Mom values, other than her kids being "successful." In creating my list, I fully acknowledge that my own parenting values stem in large part from my own cultural biases, which are primarily LDS and secondly American. My ideas have also largely been formed from my training and experience as a teacher.

1. My children are lovely, special and unique. To me. It isn't fair for me to expect other people to treat them the same way. (Saying that all children are unique is really just another way of saying that NONE of them are.) If my children need extra time and attention, then it is primarily my responsibility to give it to them.

2. I must love my children enough to put limits on their behavior.

3. Self-esteem is built when a child makes good choices and enjoys the positive consequences of their behavior. Their sense of self and worth is based on their ability to become independent and strong. (Tiger Mom says that self-esteem is based on being praised for performing certain tasks with perfection. The problem with this approach is that perfection, at least across a broad spectrum of skills, is impossible. And even if you are first, it is only temporary. Somebody smarter, faster, more skilled and better always comes along eventually.) The most important thing I can give my child is independence.

4. I should set high expectations for my children and then do everything in my power to help them become successful.

5. My home needs to be a place of love and understanding and peace so that my kids have a soft place to land.

6. Children, particularly young children, develop their imagination and problem solving skills when they have plenty of unstructured play time. When this time is outdoors, it is even more productive. Dirt doesn't hurt and soap washes almost everything.

7. Children should learn to work, and that work should generally come before play; but they should also learn that work and fun are not dichotomies. Working at something you love brings total joy. And fun might involve all kinds of thinking and sweating.

8. My children might be handsome, charming, intelligent, excel in school, and have loads of friends (etc. etc.) but if they have no compassion, kindness and generosity then they will never build a life of true joy or richness. It is these unmeasurable attributes that make a truly great man or woman.

9. My children are not the center of any universe. Even mine. The most important single entity in my house is our family. The things we do must center on what is best for the family--which may certainly include an individual being spotlighted.

10. Eventually my children will have to determine their own religious values and practices, but in the meantime I will train them up in mine, while teaching them the tools that will help them to choose for themselves one day.

I guess I have a lot of values; I'm sure I could even come up with more. My point is that motivation for parenting has to be based on something more substantial than guilt (particularly that false-guilt that is actually based on comparison and not any inner working), tradition, a slanted idea of success, or on how well a child's behavior reflects on ourselves.

In the end of her essay, Tiger Mom, in my eyes redeems herself with the following two paragraphs,

". . . . For their part, many Chinese secretly believe that they care more about their children and are willing to sacrifice much more for them than Westerners, who seem perfectly content to let their children turn out badly. I think it's a misunderstanding on both sides. All decent parents want to do what's best for their children. The Chinese just have a totally different idea of how to do that.

"Western parents try to respect their children's individuality, encouraging them to pursue their true passions, supporting their choices, and providing positive reinforcement and a nurturing environment. By contrast, the Chinese believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they're capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits and inner confidence that no one can ever take away."

In the end, it seems that most parents want the same things.

What do you value as a parent or grandparent or favorite aunt or teacher? Everyone, regardless of the age or number or even existence of your own children has something to contribute here.

Contest Winners

2011-01-13T11:16:00.004-07:00

I will spare you for a few days from the lessons learned while taking my third trip to Urgent Care this week, or my tales of conjunctivitis. For a few days.

Our winners are

The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery, suggested by Scully.

and

The Persian Pickle Club by Sandra Dallas, suggested by Loradona. There was also a seconded recommendation to read something by Sandra Dallas.

Here are the rest of the recommendations compiled, in no particular order because I'm just too lazy:

First They Killed My Father, Loung Ung
Nudge, Richard Thaler & Cass Sunstein
The Female Brain, Louann Brizendine
The Geography of Bliss, Eric Weiner
The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls
Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress, Dai Sijie
When You Reach Me, Rebecca Stead
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, Alan Bradley (two recommendations)
The Wednesday Sisters, Meg Waite Clayton (two recommendations)
Lift, Kelly Corrigan
Yearning for the Living God, F. Enzio Busche (two recommendations)
Nothing Was the Same, Kay Redfield Jamison
Every Man in this Village is a Liar, Megan Stack
When a Crocodile Eats the Sun, Peter Godwin
Stones from the River, Ursula Hegi
In the Company of Angels, David McFarland
The Passage, Justin Cronin
People of the Book, Geraldine Brooks
Room, Emma Donoghue
Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers, Mary Roach.
Make Gentle the Life of This World: The Vision of Robert F. Kennedy, Maxwell Taylor Kennedy
Death with Interruptions, Jose Saramago
At Home, Bill Bryson
What the Dog Saw, Malcolm Gladwell (as well as comments to read ANYthing he writes)
Team of Rivals, Doris Kearns Goodwin
When Everything Changed, Gail Collins.
Matched, Ally Condie
Women, Food and God, Geneen Roth
Les Miserable, Victor Hugo
So Brave, Young & Handsome, Leif Enger
A Confederacy of Dunces, John Kennedy Toole
The Yiddish Policeman's Union, Michael Chabon
The Brothers K, David James Duncan
The River Why, David James Duncan
Headlong, Michael Frayn
A Serious Way of Wondering: The Ethics of Jesus Imagined, Reynolds Price
Lengthen Your Stride: The Presidency of Spencer W. Kimball, unabridged
Blink, Malcolm Gladwell
The Help, Kathryn Stockett
Fablehaven series, Brandon Mull
Surprised by Joy, C S Lewis
War Within and Without, Anne Morrow Lindbergh.
Wind, Sand, and Stars, Antoine de Saint-Exupery.
Juliet, Naked, Nick Hornby's
Garlic and Sapphires, Ruth Reichl

I have to admit to being rather overwhelmed by this year's list. Of the 45 listed here, I've only read ONE Of them (Les Miserable), and only heard of a few books and/or authors. Clearly I'm out of some very important loop. And one of my goals this year is to read less? Yikes.

To claim your Amazon gift card, prize winners, please email me on hotmail with the prefix "scienceteachermommy." Congratulations to the winners
and happy reading to you all!

The Inevitable Resolution Post

2011-01-10T06:48:00.003-07:00

Before talking resolutions, I have decided to continue the contest for a few more days, just until the 14th. Scroll down for entry details. I just can't get around to it for a few days; I'm flat chat. (A bonus entry to anybody who can explain that Aussie expression.)

I did pretty good on last year's resolutions, and I really liked a lot of my goals, so I think there will some repeats here as well as some new ones:

"I will get less hung up if my Martha tasks are unfinished and concentrate harder on the Mary tasks. (Luke 10:38-42) Oops, there goes my Etsy store."

This one was a good one for me, though I am not sure that my house is clean as often as I'd like it to be. Maybe this year I will work on some balance.

"I will re-establish the habit of meaningful prayer in my life."

Getting better, but I think we'll keep this one on the list.

"I will record the spiritual impressions that I have."

This one was rather vague; I think the idea was that I wouldn't just use my blog as my journal, since there are things that I don't really share here. (Yes, believe it or not, there are things I refrain from saying.) I haven't gotten much better at this, but I'm not sure it will be a priority this year either. That may sound rather awful, but I'm trying to be realistic.

"I will continue my current course of scripture study, which has been wonderfully effective for me. (In the spring I bought an inexpensive set of scriptures that I have been cross-referencing to the conference talks and the footnotes. It is fascinating to see patterns emerge and passages of scripture that get continual emphasis.) I need to establish this fledgling habit more firmly so that it is a part of my life at least five days each week."

I'm still not up to five days each week yet, but this is still working for me and I'm going to continue it, along with the Young Women's Personal Progress program.

"I will work harder to maintain harmony in my family relationships--particularly towards and between my kids."

Does anybody every say "Bam! Checked off!" to this goal?

"I will attend the temple between six and 12 times this year. At least every other month, if not every month."

Made it! Not easy, for sure. Though not exactly easy, I think Plantboy and I have definitely re-established this habit for ourselves.

"I will get more sleep--my greatest lifestyle barrier to making the others more successful"

Meh. Sleep is overrated.

So here the resolutions for 2011:

1. I will balance my Mary and Martha tasks so that I gain a good measure of both internal and external peace on a daily basis.

2. I will have meaningful prayer at least once daily.

3. I will continue my current course of scripture study, at least 5 days each week, and earn my Personal Progress Award along with my study.

4. I will spend less time on the computer social networking, and more time writing. I probably won't blog more often than 2-3 times each month, and have a goal to only check blogs once a week. Yes, yes, I know that is a lousy way to pick up new readers, but I need some balance if I am ever going to get published. By fall I want to have two manuscripts (one unfinished and one in need of heavy revision) ready to send to a publisher.

5. I will spend less time reading and more time exercising. Yes, really. A friend and I are trying to put together a group to run a 200 mile race in August in central Oregon. If it doesn't pan out, we still want to do a half marathon in Portland in May. I've never done anything like this before, and I'm not just doing it now for the exercise. As much as the thought of losing a little bit of weight is appealing, mostly I'm interested in accomplishing something for myself. I'll give regular training updates here through the year.

6. I will study my options and apply for colleges this spring; I will then decide by fall whether or not I'm actually enrolling.

Book Review 2010 (Part Two)

2011-01-06T14:15:00.003-07:00

My book reviews will be in chronological order, the ones closer to the top are the ones I read closer to the end of the year. And you've been warned: I read a lot this year. I mostly keep the list for myself. If you want to just scroll through the post and look more closely at titles that interest you then you might be happier about the time you spend here today!

Don't forget about the contest from last post. I'm still taking suggestions/entries until the 10th.

A Short History of Nearly Everything

Bill Bryson

I reviewed this book on my last post. I've since read another 100 pages or so and I just love it more all the the time. As I review this year's rather mediocre list, I think this one is definitely one of the very best.

The Cay

Theodore Taylor

Jedi Knight and I have been doing this one as a read-aloud (as many on the list this year have been) this month. It is such a great book, but especially for boys--war, shipwreck, survival. At the same time, it creates a place for discussion about war and its fallout as well as racism. As a read-aloud, it is very fun because one of the main characters is from the South Caribbean and Taylor has written the dialect very well. It just about has to be read aloud to really appreciate the carefully crafted calypso speech.

The Giver

Lois Lowry

This Newbery winner has long been a favorite. My re-read this year was for a December book group. I had forgotten what a great time of year it is to read this book for various things that happen in the story. The themes in this science-fiction light book are wonderful and thought-provoking. I was surprised that when I mentioned our book group's reading of this on Facebook just how many people either said "meh" to this choice or were firm in their dislike. Everyone that showed for book group really loved it.

Joseph and Emma: A Love Story

Marsha Newman and Buddy Youngren

I'm still trying to figure out just why I disliked this book so much, and even debating on plowing through the last few chapters. I think it was probably well-researched, and the authors did paint a very powerful picture of the Prophet and his wife. It was cheesy--Edward and Bella cheesy--in many places. Because these were real people, however, for whom I have enormous respect, I was sometimes uncomfortable with the level of intimacy the authors portrayed. . . it wasn't that there was anything inappropriate . . . . nope, still can't figure out why I didn't like it.

Cotillion

Georgette Hyer

I love nearly everything I've read by this woman. This one was as charming and predictable as all of the others. Her leading ladies somehow manage to be smart and down-to-earth even while sitting smack-dab in the middle of one of the most indulgent and ridiculous societies ever.

The Necklace: Thirteen Women and the Experiment that Transformed Their Lives

Cheryl Jarvis

This one was also reviewed in the previous post.

World War One

This was actually a rather old library book brought home by my son a few weeks ago. It was over 100 pages of dense print, most of which we read aloud. He has been fascinated lately by the history of war, particularly the world wars. As a borderline pacifist (even moreso after my reading this year), this has been very difficult for me, though I've tried very hard to keep my own opinions to himself and not quench his enthusiasm. I knew very little about this war before starting the book. I was horrified by the soldier's first hand accounts of the trenches, the stupidity which plunged the world into war in the first place, and the futility of the type of warfare the men were engaged in. It also helped to debunk another we-used-to-have-more-freedom myth. Just before the US entered the war, the military was extremely small in proportion to our population. A million-member army had to mustered in a short time. The draft was brutal and broad. In addition, our country was terribly unprepared to manufacture the weapons needed for this conscripted army. The president appointed a man who was not on the cabinet nor subjected to any congressional oversight to assess the US's ability to fight. He was given broad powers to enter factories and force the owners to convert them into military facilities or shut them down. Remember, this is before that "socialist" FDR came to power. How well do you think such policies would go over in 2011? Starting with the First World War, America created a war machine that became big business. If the government was to truly scale back on military spending and bring all the troops home, what do you think would happen to the unemployment rate then? Another post for another time.

Madame Bovary

Gustave Flaubert

I'm listening to a free Librovox download of this one. (iTunes has dozens and dozens of these--all older books, mostly classics, that are non-copyright protected.) It has been slow-going. I'm just having a really hard time liking any of the characters. And, true to its time, so much of the book's language is overblown. I'm about 2/3 finished here and will keep going because it is in the canon and all, but I just think whatever heartbreak Madame Bovary gets, she has 100% earned.

Fifth Avenue: 5 AM

Sam Wasson

This fall I worked with a high school student who had to write a massive research paper about an artist. She chose Audrey Hepburn. The project was fun and I think I learned as much as she did. This particular book was one of the best we found that moved beyond just biography and into a social critique about what Audrey has meant to our culture and to changing attitudes about women and being single. The book analyzes the writing, casting and aftermath of the classic, Breakfast at Tiffany's. Half the joy of the book was the cover--the lovely Audrey as Holly Golightly, the text and back cover in Tiffany blue.

World War Two

Stephen Ambrose

Another of Jedi Knight's picks. It was a great compliment to a lot of the other reading I did through the summer and fall. This one was actually very well written (this author is VERY good) for a kids' book. It was also full of maps and some light commentary.

Riding In the Shadows of Saints

Jana Richman

One of the more unusual books I read this year. It is a memoir from a woman who long ago left the LDS church because her strong feminist principles and near-atheism were incompatible with the belief-system. If I'd had her father, I might be exactly the same way! The irony is, that no matter where she moved or who she met, she kept going back to the fact that the strongest women she knew were all LDS. She believes that her own strength is a direct outgrowth of the pioneer women in her ancestry. So, about ten years ago, she decided to get in touch with these ancestors by motorcycling the Mormon trail and visiting the sites she had grown up hearing about. I would love to do something like that--what a great blog that would be.

Little Brother

Cory Doctorow

This book was too edgy for me, though the ideas behind it were interesting. It is a science fiction story set a few years into the future after a major terrorist attack in San Fransisco. I expected the book to be about capturing the terrorists, but instead it was about a group of techies whose main goal was to make sure that the government didn't take away broad civil rights in the name of catching terrorists. They related much of what they were doing to the hippie movement of the 1960's. It was good for me to view that time through a new lens to gain some level of balanced understanding. I didn't love the book, however.

Mockingjay

Suzanne Collins

I read all three Hunger Games books this year, but they will be reviewed here in opposite order. I thought that Mockingjay was merely an adequate conclusions to an awesome concept. I read it not long after the second, and I'm glad I didn't hang out eighteen months to get my hands on this one. I am not sure how else she could have ended it, and because they are away from the Hunger Games the setting is totally different. Collins does a number on characters--making them by turns more brutal and more sensitive--their suffering bringing out the very best and worst of human nature. She is not a happily-ever-after kind of an author, recognizing that some levels of trauma are not easily, if ever, recovered from. She also points out that power can corrupt a person with even the best of intentions, and that when we dehumanize our enemies, we can be capable of any number of atrocities. In the end, the victory barely feels like one because the price has been so high.

Unbowed

Wangari Maathi

Maathi won the Nobel Peace Prize earlier this decade, primarily for her work with the Greenbelt Movement whose goal is to basically re-plant Africa with trees. I had a hard time getting into this book; mostly I think my own cultural biases kept me from enjoying it from the beginning. I really love that despite being educated in the US, having friends all over the world, and being persecuted by her own government, she has never thought for a moment to leave Kenya behind to implode while she could do something about preserving it.

Catching Fire

Suzanne Collins

I think this was my favorite of the Hunger Games books. I'm not sure exactly why. Though the middle part of a trilogy so seldom resolves any kind of story, I often find myself really liking the second story the best. The first was just such a shock and so unique and the third was so dark. This second one still left some room for hope, and story-wise I really hit the ground running here. Collins very realistic and love story and characters makes Meyer's love triangle just look so juvenile.

The Secret Garden

Francis Hodgsen Burnett

When my book group picked this for one of our summer reads, it occurred to me that I've never actually read this book. I think it is unfortunate I didn't read it as a child; I would have liked it better then. As an adult, I read this book with a much more critical eye--for the times in which it occurred and the author's own religious background. I also think I would have enjoyed it more if I had actually read it, instead of listening to it. Hearing it out loud made some of the writing rather annoying and repetitive. Still, it is hard to argue with dozens of editions still in print. A childhood classic of the first order.

Maniac McGee

Jerry Spinelli

I discovered this sweet little gem some years ago, and finally got to read it to Jedi Knight this year. I don't think he loved it quite as much as I do; the writing style is a bit erratic. Though I think this is a large part of the book's charm, it might have been a little bit overwhelming for an emerging reader. I think that this book is probably best suited to middle schoolers, despite its short length. It explores themes of poverty, inclusion, racism and family. Good stuff.

Voyage of the Dawn Treader

CS Lewis

When we saw this film preview in front of Toy Story 3, I told Jedi Knight that he had to read the book before we saw the movie. We also did this one as a read-aloud. This might be Lewis' most allegorical Narnia book. (And that is saying something!) Or at least contains the greatest number of biblical allusions, including some to Moses and Isaiah. My favorite part of this book is Lewis' comparison of sin to dragon skin and the analogy of repentance to removing the skin. Quite moving. Most of the symbolism was lost on JK, and I'm not sure that the adventure story portion was well-written enough to be engaging for him. The movie was an entirely different story. These Narnia movies really expand and create something epic from some pretty straightforward writing. The acting is quite good. And though this isn't a movie review, there were at least three references in the film to a fourth movie likely based on The Silver Chair. Quite possibly my favorite of the seven books, though seriously lacking in Pevensies.

Three Cups of Tea

David Oliver Relin

This is Greg Mortenson's memoir. I reviewed the book here already. The one book I read this year that I would put on everyone's to-read list.

Children of the Promise
Dean Hughes

This is actually a five volume series about the Second World War, specifically an LDS family during the time period. I really enjoyed the first and the second. The last three dragged quite a bit and could have easily been condensed into two volumes by cutting out a lot of the fat. Some of the characters I really loved and I thought their inner struggles and conflicts were fascinating. I thought the author did a good job of showing just how terrible, and sometimes necessary, war is, as well as the deeply conflicting opinions in the LDS community about the US involvement in the war. I found his statements from the general authorities on the subject particularly illuminating. Hughes was able to make a story that allows the reader to draw their own conclusions about politics, changing societal values and family. A very compelling story, the author just dragged on certain portions of it way too long. If I was to recommend these to anyone, it would be to NOT read them all in a row like one huge novel. Too much.

White Fang
Jack London

This was another Librovox audio recording, and quite good. Nearly all of the sections were read by men and Americans, which I think added to the overall tone of the story. (Just as Austen should be read by British women!) London is a masterful storyteller. His raw, spare prose transports you instantly into the Alaskan wild. I listened to this book while doing papers on warm summer mornings, and I felt cold the whole time. London is at the pinnacle of nature writing. Good stuff.

The Story of Mormonism
James Talmadge

Short. Probably rather slanted toward a particular viewpoint, obviously. Considering how long ago it was written, it was very interesting to see the thinly veiled bitterness the author had toward those who persecuted the Saints. Though the history of persecution is still part of the LDS collective psyche, I think the anger has been greatly diminished over the years. Talmadge lived at a time when a vast majority of LDS people had converted early enough to endure persecution and migration, or at least their parents and grandparents did. Times have changed; I'm not sure the book has maintained its relevance very well. Certainly not like Talmadge's masterwork "Jesus, The Christ.

Ida B and Her Plans to Maximize Fun, Avoid Disaster, and (Possibly) Save the World
Katherine Hannigan

The title is as charming and wordy as the heroine herself! This is a good book, and geared toward young readers. Jedi Knight enjoyed this well enough, even though it is from a girl's perspective, though Ida B herself and the writing style in general were sometimes a little bit overwhelming for him. This is one of those books written for 7-13 year olds that adults will possibly like more than kids will, though a girl might like it better than my son did.

Queen of the Shadows: A Novel of Isabella, Wife of Edward II
Edith Felber

This book was mediocre. It is the story of a young, French Princess who was married to Edward II when she was just 13. Though she was completely unaware of it initially, it is fairly well accepted, historically, that Edward was gay, lavishing large favors on his partners who were systematically and ruthlessly killed by his enemies. Later he was deposed by Isabella and their son and also killed in a ruthless manner, though it seems that she tried to order it otherwise. The history is interesting, if probably not very reliable as these are events that happened a long time ago, and all but the barest facts and in dispute. It wasn't as distasteful as last year's disastrous pick "The Other Boleyn Girl," but at least that one was rather well-written.

Classic Short Stories

This is probably kind of a hokey selection, and if we are counting, this one probably doesn't! But if you are into audio books, Librovox has dozens of short stories available for free download through iTunes. Some of them are quite remarkable. I listened to them over several days and felt so transported back in time to Wharton and Fitzgerald; forward with Vonnegut and Bradbury; and into the frozen north with London. This tricky genre might be the true place of brilliance for American authors. Highly recommended.

The Stranger
Albert Camus

I've had this one on my shelf for a long time, and picked it up because I remember my older brother reading it. The AP English teacher at our high school taught this one for years and mercifully quit before I was in her class. It isn't lengthy or difficult, it is just so depressing. Again, a main character with which there is no way to identify. This is actually part of the point of the book, and it teaches about modern man's connection only to self and not to others. There is a lot to discuss in the book about male and female relationships, loss of religion and its effect on morality, parent-child relationships, etc. etc. I can see why it is a modern classic. It doesn't have to mean I enjoyed it.

Esperanza Rising
Pam Munoz Ryan

I remember this book being very popular in the Houston school where I taught because it came out that year in both Spanish and English editions, a huge thing for the population on our campus. I never read it then, and seriously missed out. This has all the elements of a classic coming of age story, and doesn't necessarily contain anything surprising, but it is just so tenderly written. Though set among Mexican immigrants from the 1930's, it is wonderfully relevant and gives a marvelous opportunities for young American readers to view the immigration issue from a totally new perspective. A lovely story that transcends culture while at the same time embracing it. My adult book group actually read this and carried on a very meaningful discussion.

Harry Potter 4-7
JK Rowling

Jedi Knight and I read the first three in a row last year and then took a break. When I realized that he was re-reading the first three on his own, I asked if he was ready for the next. He enthusiastically jumped on that idea, and we spent the first six months of this year reading the last four. I let him watch each film as we finished the books. (I'm taking him to the 7th on Saturday). I credit the marvelous Ms. Rowling with making my son a reader. His skills advanced slowly, but it wasn't until he found books he really wanted to read that he kept at it and practiced the way he needed to. I always have a hard time choosing which HP book is my favorite. I think it varies with whichever volume I am reading! Re-reading them this year and seeing them anew through his eyes was almost as good as reading them the first time through.

The Book Thief
Markus Zusak

This was one of my favorite reads this year. It was just so strange. The book is narrated by Death and set in a small town in Germany during the Second World War. Somebody ahead of time told me this, which was really helpful to know from the beginning. It gave the book a first person perspective and the commentary that comes with that, but because it is Death it is also an omniscient viewpoint. On nearly every page there was a gem worth sharing. I think my favorite line, in talking about the men rushing and killing each other between the trenches in the First World War is when Death says, "In battle, young men think they are running at each other. They are mistaken; they are running at me." This chilling novel really emphasized the terrible reality and human costs of war.

Where the Red Fern Grows
Wilson Rawls

This book was another read-aloud with Jedi Knight. (Are you sensing a pattern in my reading this year?) I read him the same copy I read my younger brother when he was just eight. And just like that night so many years ago, JK and I cried our eyes out when those dear little dogs give their lives up for the boy they love, and for each other. This story is so classic. Find a young boy to share it with this year.

The Lost City of Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon
David Grann

Grann is a long time New Yorker writer, and so this book on British explorers in the 1800's is very well-written. It also reads like a very long personal essay of the type you would find in the magazine--a mixture of personal experience past and present and highly engaging people-centered history. Plantboy found the topic a little bit more engaging than I did, but I still really enjoyed this book though I think it ended rather abruptly. If you like John Kraukauer books, or the writing style of writers like Malcolm Gladwell, then this one might be for you.

Bud, Not Buddy
Christopher Paul Curtis

Jedi Knight and I did a book group this summer with some other moms and kids from our ward. Unfortunately, it never really got off the ground. This was a fun read, and very funny. The child narrator is engaging and smart. The book provided a highly readable context in which to talk about poverty, foster care, racism, unions and the Depression. I didn't feel like the plot of this book entirely resolved itself, but it was a good read. Again, though, one of those books written for 7-13 year olds that actually resonates better with adults humor-wise as well as thematically.

Jane Eyre
Charlotte Bronte

I already reviewed this one over the summer. After I finished it, I watched a couple of different versions of this as a movie. I felt like each was unsatisfying in its way. Jane is a tricky character--plain and rather bland on the surface, but boiling with passions underneath. Because movies are so visually oriented, too much of Jane's placid plain-ness is all that we get. There is a new feature film version coming this spring, and I have really high hopes for it. This is such a dark story filled with passion and it needs a less Austenian approach. Yes, I just made up that term.

Love Comes Softly
Janette Oke

This was a book club choice. I really did not like it. At all. Maybe if it hadn't been read for book group . . . I don't know. Or if I'd read it in junior high . . . . If the title sounds familiar you might have unfortunately caught the movie one night on the Hallmark Channel. It is the story of a young woman who gets married and goes west in the mid-1800's, but her husband dies just before winter when she is two months pregnant; she finds herself in an arranged and necessary marriage within a week. While it has all the elements of a nice, romantic story, the writing is just so juvenile. Elements of the story are anachronistic, and she ridiculously idealizes a world that would have been very harsh by our standards. The author makes no effort to resolve several plot-lines and then went on to write like 10 sequels because her adoring fans just wanted more. Yuck. I just couldn't get into it, and had to bite my tongue during book group when I realized that I was in a minority of exactly ONE in my opinion.

Rebecca
Daphne duMaurier

It was so fun to read this book at about the same time as Jane Eyre. At book group we discussed a list of Gothic literature elements and related them to the story. This was a very cool exercise and a different approach to a typical discussion. This is just a really great modern classic, and my view on it has changed through many reading. The greatness of this book is that it balances a suspenseful and romantic story with excellent writing.

Shanghai Girls
Lisa See

Thematically, I thought this book was very interesting. It followed a lot of the stories I read this year, but from an Asian perspective. Particularly the Second World War and immigration. Until I read this book, I had no idea about the depth of the animosity between Japan and China, and the terrible atrocities committed by the Japanese against the Chinese. Yet, even before the Chinese came, Shanghai was a beautiful city on the surface that was morally rotting on the inside. At its heart, the book is a story about two sisters, and part of the characterization of the girls hit a little too close to home, perhaps. (I have just one sister.) Plot-wise, the novel has no subtlety and is very blunt in many situations. A little too blunt for my taste.

The Botany of Desire
Michael Pollan

This book was along the lines of Bill Bryson's. Lots of science interspersed with personal narrative and also colorful history. Loved it. Plantboy preferred some of his other books better and felt like this one was a little bit to philosophical.

Northanger Abbey
Jane Austen

I reviewed this one quite extensively back in May in the middle of another post.

Sevenwaters Trilogy
Juliet Marillier

A friend tipped me off on these books and this author five or six years ago. Since then I've read just about everything she is written. This trilogy, containing Daughter of the Forest, Child of the Shadows and Child of the Prophecy are all wonderful. If you like fantasy at all, especially fantasy grounded in real events, places and/or fairy tales then you will love this author. It had been a couple of years since my last reading, and I picked up the first because I shared it with a book group. (We hadn't really read any fantasy at all.) Of course, after reading the first, I had to just keep going. The book group had fun borrowing these too. What I did not have as much fun with is . . .

Heir of Sevenwaters
Juliet Marillier

Too many authors now just keep writing sequels because they sell well and readers are already invested in the characters. The problem is that so many sequels are just attempts to further cash in on a once-good idea instead of being good ideas themselves. The first three Sevenwaters books were an exception--each with its own unique plot, heroine, story and filled with new adventure. This one (the fourth book in what had always been termed a "trilogy") is weak. The story wasn't nearly as developed or engaging as the others. There was no attempt to make the fantasy elements seem natural of normal like the others did. It was mostly just weird. The weirdness was tempered by some really boring parts. Good thing there is a fifth installment just out in hard back. Still, I love the author; you can probably look for Seer of Sevenwaters to be reviewed next year!

A Thousand Splendid Suns
Khaled Hosseini

This can be considered a companion volume to The Kite Runner. The story presents life in Afghanistan during roughly the same period as the other, but is told through the eyes of two very different women who end up as sister-wives in the same household. It is stark, bold, difficult and just so great. If you liked The Kite Runner then I you should read this one too. This book reinforces something I heard an American general say the week after reading Greg Mortensen's book, "There is no military solution in Afghanistan."

Eclipse
Stephenie Meyer

Meh. I re-read this in order to write a spoof. I did so, but it felt flat to me. The book was slightly better than the second, so there is just less to outright mock. However, that still doesn't mean it is very good. I was too bored to even put in the proper thought to be funny. I did think the movie was probably the best of the three. The screenplay really amped up the action sequences, and the flashbacks were a nice touch. Those two of you who were eagerly awaiting my fourth and final spoof of Breaking Dawn will just have to keep waiting. I don't think I have the stomach to read it again, though the pillows ripped to shreds bit is already almost a parody without any help from me.

The Undaunted
Gerald Lund

This book was . . . all right. I really liked the first part set in England, and the journey that the boy and his father took to Utah. I liked the contrast of the later Saints coming across the plains--by rail. It isn't a time period we hear all that much about. The story of the colonization of Southern Utah was likewise interesting from a Church history standpoint. These are true to Lund's Work and the Glory format--characters present at all major, documented events, actual people are generally only assigned lines they actually had written somewhere. I like the protagonist until he fell in love with two sisters. He ended up messing with both of them badly enough that I wondered for a couple of chapters if Lund was actually writing a book about polygamy. The made-up story kind of undermined the rich history that exists here.

A Single Shard
Linda Sue Park

This is a wonderful kids' novel that won the Newbery a few years ago. This would make a wonderful read aloud with your kids. It is short, thematically rich and beautifully written. Just so lovely.

Hunger Games
Suzanne Collins

Fantastic. Worth both the critical praise and the sales. I listened to this one as an audiobook, and then later had to buy it and have Plantboy read it. He loved it too. This is such a clever idea. There are a wide range of themes to discuss here and I think some parallels to our own time are almost scary. What becomes of a society that consumes itself into oblivion and finds entertainment in whatever is most base and degrading? It might be time to ask ourselves some of these hard questions. Hunger Games is novel-writing at its best. This book reminds us why we read in the first place.

Sunshine
Robin McKinley

Yes. THAT Robin McKinley. And yes, this is a rather new title. It also happens to be about vampires. Because I love McKinley so much I had very high hopes despite the vampire plot line. This was my most disappointing pick of the year. It is vulgar, erratic and kind of stupid. She definitely sets up a whole future fantasy world that clearly exists in great detail in her own head, but so much is left out of this book that I felt lost much of the time, like I'd taken a visit to a culture vastly different and futuristic without the benefit of anybody to explain what I was looking at. Oh, Robin, thanks for proving once again how foolish it is to pick mere mortals for role models.

These is My Words
Nancy Turner

This was rather loosely reviewed in two different posts back in February. I liked the book. It was certainly a page turner, and it is clear to me why it was so well liked. Turner doesn't romanticize the time in which her frontier's woman lives (just her husband), but there were still things about her lead's character that struck me as anachronistic. I don't know. I've never actually met a woman who lived in the 1800's, so it is hard to say what women were really like. I liked this book until the last chapter or two when Turner introduced some new plot lines that she didn't resolve. It seemed like she was already writing a sequel before she finished the first. Sure enough, both sequels are sitting on my dresser. Not all that excited to read them, actually.

Huckleberry Finn
Mark Twain

It is interesting that I chose to read this book the year that all of the controversy has arisen over the changes that will take place in this book to make it more palatable to censors. This was a very good audiobook--the reader did a large variety of voices and was very convincing with her Missouri/southern accent. I really enjoy the first half and a bit of this book, but then it just seems like Twain can't find a way to end the novel. His own, personal character and life evolved dramatically over the many years it took him to write the book, and my reading of it makes me feel like he started with a different ending in mind. In the end, the glorious running-away plot, falls apart into an exercise in futility. Twain might have been saying something about life in general.

Tess of the D'ubervilles
Thomas Hardy

What a fantastic way to begin the year. This book made for a really fun book group night and Hardy was so ahead of his time in the telling of Tess' story.

Book Review 2010 (Part One)

2010-12-29T20:29:00.005-07:00

The review is part one because I am going to take this section to review just two books in some detail, and the next post to make short reviews of all that I read this year. My two selections here are the winning recommendations from last year. I include summaries, but no real spoilers as both books are works of non-fiction.

The Necklace: Thirteen Women and the Experiment That Transformed Their Lives
by Cheryl Jarvis

recommended by GenJunky

Early in this decade, a woman in southern California (who considers herself an old hippie) walked past a jewelry store she had seen dozens of time, but was completely caught off guard by the beauty of a diamond necklace that was on display in the window. Over the ensuing weeks she admired it many times, but was struck by the thought that such remarkable luxury was available to so few. If other resources could be shared, why not a necklace?

Upon finding out that the necklace was going to be auctioned, she sprang into action and recruited a dozen women to each put up $1,000 and put in a bid on the piece. Each would own the necklace. The jeweler, amazed to see such regular and enthusiastic women in his store (diametrically opposed to his regular crowd) that he let the necklace go for a fraction of its worth on the condition that his wife could join the group.

The group, known as "Jewelia" (the truly inane name chosen for The Necklace), met monthly to swap stories, pass on the necklace and, ultimately raise money for charity.

Oh, and fight.

The thing is that while I love the premise of this book, and the idea behind their sharing, I had a really hard time with the book itself. Each chapter is a character sketch of the women. And though each is certainly unique, I have to admit that I didn't really feel connected to any of them. Even the ones described as being of modest means (and some of them certainly had backgrounds that fit the term), seemed exceptionally wealthy to me without truly appreciating just how remarkably blessed they were. It was rather astounding to me that they had to become a part of the group before they felt the necessity of sharing their (vast, by global terms) resources with others.

The jeweler who sold the necklace said the wear and tear on the clasp of the thing indicates that it was worn nearly 700 times the second year after purchasing (like anyone can KNOW that). With a single owner, such a high-end item might be worn just 2 or 3 times in a year. My first thought is that so much wear and share would take away from the wonder and uniqueness of such a thing, but on the other hand, the women say that what makes the necklace so special is the sharing. Interesting idea.

Some of the lessons of the necklace were truly profound. It seems that for the most part, their involvement in the group has made them less selfish, more bonded to a strong sisterhood, and more community-minded. On the other hand, some of the essays seemed trying too hard to create meaning, or shared lessons just a little too personal. Like the woman who only could convince her husband to let her join because she told him that she would wear ONLY Jewelia during their lovemaking. That is only the tip of the TMI iceberg.

I'm not exactly certain why I disliked the book so much. The essays, for the most part, weren't brilliant. Jarvis is a nationally renowned magazine writer (according the jacket), but I really didn't like her writing in this format. The timeline was all over the place; I didn't know what year anything was happening and it lost me a little bit. I also couldn't keep the women straight. Though they were different, most of their stories weren't all that memorable and when she would refer to one of the women later in another's essay, I was always thinking "Which one is this again?"

I think it is a book that would have been wonderful as a blog. The women who started Jewelia should have chronicled their journey in their OWN essays. It may have been more convincing.

A Short History of Nearly Everything
by Bill Bryson

recommended by Katie

I feel a bit sous doing the review of this one now because I haven't actually finished it yet. I was truthfully a bit daunted by the size and topic, though the recommendation came from a highly trusted source. I was hoping to finish by year's end, but it just won't happen. I'll be close, but not quite there.

This book is basically a chronicle of all major scientific discoveries for lay people. I love it because so much of the science he describes I already have a basic understanding of, so I don't get lost in the details. What I didn't know was all the drama behind so many of these discoveries. The history, and maybe more so the telling of it, of scientific thought in the 1800's reads like an episode from a soap opera. He has really delved to find the story behind the eccentric and brilliant people whose remarkable discoveries have made modern life possible. Bryson worked hard to find female contributors as well. (Favorite anecdote read today: Marie Curie was so steeped in radiation that even her personal effects, many of which still are in existence, are still emitting toxic levels of it, 80 years after her death. To handle her things, even her cookbooks!, researchers must don special suits and remove the artifacts from lead-lined boxes. Awesome.)

It would have been so amazing to have had science professors who could have elucidated the history of all the discoveries about which they took such care to teach the details. I can see Bryson's point about science being so fascinating, but so inaccessible. When I teach again I think I will incorporate some of this human drama into the process. What a great approach to a student textbook. This book (which reads like a novel in sections) has also shown me what a great addition to a humanities course the history of science could be.

And I haven't even made it to all the good, meaty biological science portion yet. You see, the oldest science is really math. Once scientists had a good understanding of math, a study of physics became possible. When planetary motion proved baffling, Newton had to first discover a new math (calculus) in order to move forward. From physics you can move outward to astronomy or inward to chemistry. And only when chemical interactions can be explained, understood and cataloged, can the biologist create any meaning from the observations he makes. So the biological stuff will come later. I can hardly wait.

It isn't a book for everyone. I think Bryson kind of takes atheism as a basic premise in his foundation. I, for one, will take just the opposite stance. I find such wonder in all that he describes. Even as we find explanations for things, we can never discount the depth of intelligence in all living things. Our most brilliant men just shake their heads and shrug about what happened, what was, where everything was, in the instant before the Big Bang. I think it will be funny when we get to the other side with our list of questions only to find out that we were wrong about so much that the questions themselves don't even make sense. We will ALL have to go back to Science 101 to really figure stuff out.

Now it is your turn!

Submit your recommendations here. I will randomly choose two and read them next year (preferably a little bit earlier!) along with whatever else happens my way. You can recommend as many books as you'd like, but I will only give each person a maximum of two entries in the contest. A $10 Amazon gift card if I pick your book. Let's try to get 50 recommendations!

Contest ends on January 10.

2010 Wrap Up

2010-12-24T08:14:00.004-07:00

I started the morning with some personal responses in the comments section of my last post. I also appreciate personal notes that were sent to me after the post. What an interesting topic for discussion. I hope that some time in the future I will sit down at table with so many smart friends and just chat. With goodies, of course.

It was a year full of so many blessings. I'm filled with such wonderful gratitude today. The year is winding down with a flurry of activity, but punctuated with small moments of sheer happiness. It will be another wonderful Christmas in our family and it felt good to not just spend money this year, but also time. I had three fairly big projects for gifts this year that involved a lot making and creating instead of just buying. It feels very, very good. We worked harder this year to look outside our family as well.

If I am smart, I will allow years like 2010 to stay deep in my memory so that when hard times come I don't forget what happiness feels like, so that I remember God's love and blessing come what may.

Happy Christmas, all.

Sex and Power and the LDS Woman

2010-12-13T12:44:00.006-07:00

I find myself singing to my kids often--snippets of songs, really. I think I do this because my mother did. And just like her I sing in snippets because I can't remember all the words and when I am on my own with no music I'm usually off key. One of my earliest mom-song-memories is Helen Reddy singing the great feminist anthem:

I am woman hear me roar
In numbers too big too ignore
And I know too much to go back and pretend
'Cause I've heard it all before
And I've been down there on the floor
No one's ever gonna' keep me down again.

It is funny, really, that this song, a huge hit the year I was born, should have so permeated my childhood. My mom did not, and definitely does not now, consider herself a feminist. And yet, she represented all that the movement wanted--she rose up from a difficult family life to attend college, told her boyfriend she wouldn't be married until she finished college (marrying in 1969), insisted on going back to work part time after her children were born, managed her own money and bank account for her whole adult life, had four children spaced exactly as she chose them to be. Growing up, it never occurred to me that there might be places in America where men and women weren't treated as equals. In my family, the women always had equal say with the men. Always.

And yet I don't consider myself a feminist either. It is ironic really, because I also completely recognize that my lifestyle, choices and self-actualization are a direct outgrowth from that time. I am not a feminist because for all the good the movement did for women in my generation, there were also heavy costs. A huge part of the movement, and the 1960's in general, was an exploration of sexual "freedom." Instead of helping to create a world where men were held to the same high standard that women had always been judged against, they advocated the freedom for women to act to the lowest common denominator. Empowering women became so wrapped up in sex that all the good work the feminists did ended up resulting in some pretty terrible unintended consequences. Women may now exhibit all kinds of lewd behavior without the consequences of a generation or two ago, but in the process these same women cause men to further objectify them. So much for the sexual revolution being anything more than huge step in the wrong direction.

A few months ago, Kathryn Soper, one of the lovely and talented women behind Segullah, posted an incredible article at a website called "Patheos." The article is about the ways in which we miss the mark when it comes to teaching teen aged women about chastity. Her insights are fascinating, the writing engaging, and her personal experiences deeply poignant. If you haven't had a friend send you the piece yet, you really should take a few minutes to go and read it. Ever since reading it a few weeks ago, I haven't been able to quite put it out of my head, and though I won't be as eloquent, I would like to add some of my own thoughts here.

The article begins by pointing out that most teenage girls do not engage in sexual activity because of an overwhelming desire to have sex. In fact, a New Yorker article from a couple of years ago, when reviewing the Twilight books, believed the popularity of the books was due to the fact that young women want love without sex. Soper asserts the same, and quotes President Ezra Taft Benson to back her up. The teen sex itself is a symptom of a deeper problem. Or problems.

Going further, Soper focuses the rest of her piece on just one of these problems: power.

Too many young girls, maybe particularly LDS girls, feel a lack of power. In this case, power is defined as a person feeling like they have a large measure of control over what happens to them. When we talk about power at church, we most often talk about Priesthood power--exclusive to men; or the power of procreation--inaccessible without a man. It isn't that there aren't plenty of examples of female power within the Church, it is just that our terminology doesn't acknowledge it.

When a powerless feeling is coupled with a strong need for love and/or attention, sexuality is the most obvious default for a teenager. Because, let's face it, ladies, men are wired to be deeply driven by sex. Women who learn from an early age to manipulate that desire can gain a lot of power. Of course, Soper reminds us, the power is just an illusion because it isn't based on something inside the young person, it is based on others' perceptions of her. Like the other power mentioned above, such burgeoning sexual power is based on something a man gives or does or notices.

I'd like to add that the power usually only lasts as long as the object of young man's desire is unattainable. Studies show that the vast majority of teen relationships end within a month or two of a couple's first sexual encounter. Girls, of course, have the most to lose in such a break-up, because it ensures that the temporary substitute for love is now absent, and to make matters worse, she has given up the only source of power that she had. In the self-image crash that inevitably follows, needs deepen further and our powerless young teenager finds herself repeating her mistakes because this time it will be "different."

The remainder of Soper's article is in the form of a personal essay, where she bravely talks about her first encounter with the realization that sexual power was within her grasp. In my own life, I was lucky not to have such an experience when I was in my mid-teens, though I knew that many of my friends understood that power. At the time, it didn't feel lucky. Other than a brief stint during my junior year, I could count on one hand the number of dates I had until I was twenty years old.

I was so jealous of the way my many friends could flirt and tease and even manipulate to find any number of boys with which to spend a Friday night. Or to take out the garbage. Or to lift something heavy. Or to hang on their every word. Or ultimately, to spend three months salary on a diamond ring.

Yet, even as my bitterness and mild disdain for what I perceived as the weakness of men grew (along with frustration over my sisters' cruelty toward them), I was busy cultivating other sources of power: intellectual, emotional and spiritual.

Then, when I was twenty years old, something remarkable happened. After a very unusual set of circumstances that landed me in Sacramento California and hanging out with a guy I didn't really like all that well, I looked into his eyes (too) late one night and I recognized exactly what Kathryn Soper is talking about in her article: sudden approval where before there had only been indifference. Bald desire that frightened me.

I kept my power and walked away from the situation, terrified at what I was capable of, and more than a little embarrassed. Because of this person's previous role in my life, for me to suddenly have such a hold was complete reversal, and more than a little exhilarating. What I learned that night, however, without really realizing it, was that "no," was more powerful than desire. My choice, my decision, was a product of every part of my power, not just my sexuality.

In Disneyland last month I was terribly disappointed not to see more evidence of Mulan: my favorite Disney-heroine and the consummate non-Princess. At the first of that movie, right after a disastrous trip to the matchmaker, she goes to the temple of her ancestors, made up and lovely. She is the classic picture of Chinese beauty. Yet, she knows as she catches her image in the highly polished stones that the gorgeous woman she sees is not a reflection of herself. As she wipes the make-up off just one half of her face, she sings,

Who is that girl I see?
Staring straight back at me?
When will my reflection show
Who I am, inside?

I saw this movie the summer I met Plantboy. I was quite self-actualized for 23, but I understood Mulan's sentiment exactly. How many times had I asked myself the same question, though perhaps without the moving vocals. Mulan is not just a love story between a man and woman, it is also a love story of a girl and her father, a girl and her country, a girl and herself.

Some time in my early thirties, I finally looked into the mirror one day and loved the woman I saw staring straight back at me. I found the place where I ceased to see myself through others eyes, even Plantboy's, and I felt deeply empowered. Intellectually, emotionally, spiritually and sexually. A balance that had taken me half my life to finally achieve.

The question I have today is, "why did it take so long?" What can be done to speed this process for the wondering and wandering young women we know and love so that they can be the heroines in their own lives?

Just a few weeks ago, a man in our ward gave a wonderful fireside about dating, but during his remarks he noted that if you believed yourself to be "in love" in high school, then you were just being ridiculous. (Ironically, his own wife, to whom he is very close, is his high school sweetheart.) I felt impressed to drive one of my young women home and speak to her a little more closely: she is dealing with some serious empowerment issues right now, and a serious boyfriend issue. I told her that loving another person wasn't ridiculous, and that part of the nature of women was to be loving. I reiterated that it is never okay to break the commandments, but that there are plenty of appropriate ways to give and express all kinds of love, even that feeling of romantic love. I pray that she will feel the power that comes into her life by choosing to be chaste. By choosing to love. By choosing her own path and asserting what she really wants. Mostly I pray that she will find her power before she finds herself on a road where she actually is helpless.

It is a hard thing we ask of our youth and young adults; it is a hard standard the Lord holds us to while simultaneously blessing us with such powerful needs, but we weren't sent here to fail, either. Empowerment is about realizing that we can do hard things. Because I am God's daughter.

A woman.

Strong. Feminine. Empowered.

Hear me roar!

Home. With Souvenirs.

2010-12-04T12:42:00.000-07:00

Where to even start? The thing with blogging is that I do it a lot when I have little to say and plenty of time to say it. Today, for example, I have a hundred things I could say and Christmas already breathing heavily down my neck. (I guess that puts Christmas on the "naughty" list.)

In an attempt to organize my thoughts, I will break up my experiences the post into two categories--Awesome. Not Awesome.

Awesome

1. San Fransisco. What a cool city. I would dearly love to go and visit with a few girlfriends next spring to see a show and more of the city. We decided to go the public transport route, which was a good choice, but it also meant that there were parts of the city we couldn't really get to. The weather was gorgeous and sunny. It wasn't the easiest place to take kids, but seeing their faces as they climbed in and out of the submarine was pretty great.

2. Exchanging presents with my sister that we have been collecting and/or making for months . With one sickish child and one baby, she had a very long and difficult week.

3. Meeting up with my family at Disneyland on November 15, which also happens to be my youngest brother's birthday. It was a blast to wait in line for the Peter Pan Ride with each other, swapping stories and joking with one another. We told my mom that for his birthday next year (he'll be 30) we are expecting a cruise! After all, we teased her, he IS the baby and still the favorite. We broke into a spontaneous birthday song while my forever mocking youngest sib turned red with embarrassment. Too bad we forgot to pick up one of these:

And don't forget these bad boys:
4. Everything about California Adventure. That place is really wonderful. I had more fun there than in Disneyland. I loved the way it was all lit up at night down by the water, like an old-fashioned amusement park. A couple of really fun "big-kid" rides are over on that side. We got to see the World of Color show, wherein Disney magic uses a wall of water instead of a screen on which to project images from their shows. (Now available on DVD!!) I thought they should have ended with "Paint With All the Colors of the Wind" however, instead of the cheesy written-for-the-show number called "World of Color" set to the princess-fest images.

5. Seeing the Jedi Knight really come out of his shell as one of the big kid cousins. He tried every "scary" ride except for one and for the most part really loved them, working out some complicated ranking system for the rides. The only one he didn't love was Space Mountain. "That was the worst experience of my life!" he said more than once when he came out. Still, it didn't scar him too bad. He told somebody the other day that the vacation, as a whole, was the "best experience of his life."

6. Mostly short lines and gorgeous, temperate weather. Don't tell anyone, but the week before Thanksgiving is the time to go.

7. Watching all four cousins who wanted to participate get picked for the Jedi show at the same time. One of the boys has tried four times. Jedi Knight stared down a very realistic Darth Maul, with no small amount of terror in his face, but his training kicked in and he didn't join the Dark Side, I'm happy to report. I have had some worry on that point.

8. Shamu. Duh. The Youngling had picked up a stuffed Shamu after the first show and carried her around all day. When we went to another Shamu show, he acted out all of Shamu's best "moves" with his stuffy. Youngling has hardly been able to part from her since we got home.

9. Spending the night with my lovely cousin in San Diego. She holds a very special place in my heart, and we relate to one another on a level that isn't always there with other members of my extended family. Her kids were hilarious and an instant bond was struck with five boys ages 3 to barely 9. I remembered just how much I liked her husband and how grateful I am to the Angel who sent him to her. I wish we could see them more often. Maybe they need to come north next time--a house on the coast would be just the thing when the 100 degree days rage across southern California again next summer.

10. Rides. Even the stupid ones. I love rides. I love getting scared out of my mind and leaving my stomach at the top of a ledge or slope or loop. I love the cheesy blacklight Disney paraphernalia and the ridiculously dated animatronics. I fell down at the end of each day just as exhausted as my children. It is remarkable what eight hours of sleep every night for a week can do to your outlook. Oh, and not having to cook a single meal.

11. Legoland. Everything about it. Everything. My kiddos were the perfect ages and we were able to see nearly all of the park in just a day. JK got the hard-to-find set of Legos that he's been saving months and months to buy. He was so happy.

12. Park food. Really. I don't think we had a bad meal inside any of the parks. We were pretty selective, and you do pay through the nose for it (what does that mean, anyway? If they would take what was coming through my nose then why didn't we just spend that?), but I felt like we at least didn't have to eat disgusting or greasy food. I especially loved my broccoli cheddar soup in a Boudin bread bowl on our last, cold night in California Adventures. Little did we know just what that chill in the air was going to mean!

13. The matching shirts that made my mom so happy and were a source of endless amusement.

Not Awesome

1. Getting lost in San Fransisco while trying to navigate our way to a hotel, and then a busy Saturday in the city with three kids.

2. Waiting 40 minutes for Peter Pan (almost the worst line of the week!) only to create an absolute terror of the dark in Padawan. The rest of the week, the question that preceded each ride was, "Is it dark?" Mostly I was truthful, but my memory from so many years back wasn't great and we made a few mistakes. For future reference, if you tell a youngish child that Splash Mountain will "not get them very wet, isn't dark, and isn't scary," then you are lying through your teeth.

3. Missing most of the Dolphin show because Plantboy took JK down to the "splash zone" while I sat with the little ones who got too hot and had too much sun in their eyes. We walked across the stadium and down to the shade, risking the splash zone wrath. We'd been seated for about 40 seconds when the Youngling had to pee. In fact, much of the whole trip seemed to involve either Plantboy or myself hunting desperately for a public toilet, and then convincing him that the gaping, noisy hole wouldn't suck his tiny butt right down. I quickly realized that all exits, except those at the TOP of the 50 stairs I'd just come down were closed. I ran him to the top, found my mom to sit next to Padawan and circled around the whole stadium to find a toilet that was 20 feet the opposite direction. "No accidents mom!" Back up the stairs to the top of the stadium and back down. I caught less than ten minutes of the Dolphin show. Raspberries.

4. Too many people EVERYWHERE. California is a nice place to visit very occasionally, but wouldn't want to live there. Twice this year (Redwoods, March) was ample.

5. The matching shirts that made my mom so happy and were a source of endless amusement.

Souvenirs

In this blog, I have tried to take the experiences I have on the journey and try to learn from them. Memories and lessons are, after all, the best souvenirs. After one particularly long letter from my mission, my mother wrote to say that I was the kind of person who "could glean a lot of living out of ordinary experiences." I think she meant it as a compliment, though sometimes I wonder if she was saying that I needed to just stop over thinking things!

To the purpose of gleaning some living, I'd like to share about our last day of vacation. The original plan had been to drive to Sacramento on Saturday and then the rest of the way home Sunday. This would break the trip into two 7-8 hour legs. Upon finding out the Primary Program was that Sunday, and consulting with the kids, we were in agreement--we had to be back on Sunday. It was better all around--we would avoid LA traffic completely by leaving at 3 in the morning, we would arrive home in time for everyone to have a good night's rest, and the kids would sleep at least a third of the ride in the car.

As of Redding, California, we were right on track, even with a long lunch. We were about 150 miles from the border and my calculations put us home at about 7 o'clock. Just time for grilled cheese sandwiches and bed. Then the snow started.

And didn't stop.

We got to the top of the pass in the Cascades in a near standstill. I was shaking like a leaf when we came to the road worker near an exit called Pollard Flats. (Don't bother finding it on the map; I don't think it is a real city. Just a gas station with a greasy spoon diner inside. And a bathroom. Thank heavens for that.

It was about four o'clock and here is the information we had: I-5 North was closed down for several miles while they tried to clear a wreck despite the ice and snow. Plows hadn't been down there yet. Nobody was going through without chains. "It might be open in an hour. It might be closed for three days. You just never know."

In short, we had very little information. We did, however, have chains. Why we had them defies all logic. Dressed in our southern California gear--I was in a light, matchy sweatsuit and Plantboy in shorts and a tee shirt--we figured out how to put the chains on using the waterproof (thank goodness for that) instructions.

While struggling to tighten the chains with numb fingers and soaked to the knees, I had a major epiphany. I knew that in just a couple of minutes I would be able to get inside the car and turn the heat all the way up if needed. We could go into the station and get some hot chocolate to warm the inside too. Even in the worst case scenario we'd be home safe and snug in bed in a few days. My kids were warm and dry. We had a full gas tank in the event that we'd need to run the car all night. We had food in the car and a few clean clothes.

I thought about my pioneer ancestors and bit back complaint. I thought about how pathetic and modern and useless I am.

After consulting with the kids, who were completely broken-hearted at the prospect of missing Sunday, we prayed at length and comforted one another. Prayer finished, we looked up to see five snowplows getting ready to head north. Miracles come in many forms.

But still we waited. I reminded Padawan about his talk for the next day: how Nephi was obedient even when it was hard. We decided we would do the same. An iPod with video capability, a charged laptop, the DVD player and a couple of good books didn't hurt our patience a bit. We ended up with two more bathroom stops. I reminded myself to be grateful even as I tried desperately not to touch anything in the filthy public restroom, even when the power went out while I was on the commode. There was a tub in there, which was odd enough, but somebody had hilariously added a really grotesque mannequin to it. Just weird. And don't get me started on the bumper stickers papering the walls; I really am grateful that the kind of folks of Pollard Flats decided to come to work that day.

Three hours later we gratefully left that little town, crawling along at 30 mph (speed limit 70) for the 70 miles it took to get to Weed, California. Yes, really. We de-chained two-hundred miles from home. It was 10:30 pm and we had to change drivers three more times to keep from falling asleep. Plantboy and I went to bed at 2 am.

But we were on time for church. Padawan's talk was wonderful and perfect. His little freckly face spoke straight from his heart and my own spirit was deeply touched.

Our six hour delay taught me so much.

* Before I knew what was happening, my stress was so palpable that I could, quite literally, feel my muscles stiffening as my heart beat faster and faster. Once we had something to DO, even something as miserable as trying to put chains on our van, I felt so much better. So stress will kill me, but when I'm busy I don't feel stressed. It has helped me to see that the fog I've felt for the last year or so is probably because of uncertainty. Having plenty to do is not the problem.

* Being exhausted and stressed makes me snarly and mean. Plantboy, patient man, is still kind to me. By the time we snuggled into our covers in the wee hours of Sunday morning, I couldn't believe how blessed I am to be married to him. And while this isn't a NEW revelation, certainly, it is always a good reminder.

* I need to get a lot better about letting go of things I cannot control. I tried a lot harder this last week to just take deep breaths when things get crazy and just be in the moment. I feel a lot better. More committed to what really matters. More conscious of the gifts I've been given.

Happy Christmas, all.

Trying to Get My Head Above Water

2010-12-03T21:40:00.004-07:00

I've got a long post nearly ready. It is all about my vacation and what I learned, etc. etc. The problem is that I am two weeks out and Disneyland is feeling so last month because I also want to post about my awesome Thanksgiving dinner, the extremely cool changes that are taking place in our ward, this must-read article by (the great) Kathryn Soper, etc. etc.

Instead I'm taking time out from my regularly scheduled life to point out the following:

Flynn Ryder is adorable.

"You became my new dream, Rapunzel."

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Talk about your Darcy Effect.

Early Christmas

2010-11-11T20:47:00.002-07:00

My mother decided in February this year, when she couldn't remember what she had given anyone for Christmas, that this year she would do something different. So tomorrow we are headed to California. The rest of my family is coming from Utah and we are all going to meet up for a week of theme-parking.

We've had months of excitement and anticipation, my mother is beside herself with joy, and the memories, no doubt, will be wonderful.

See you on the other side!

Parenting My Middle Child

2010-11-04T09:18:00.005-06:00

Help.

Have I told you how much I love my middle son? He is smart--from his first smile at just two weeks old to his ability to handily beat me at memory to his memorization of something paragraphs long after just a few practices--this is one bright child. He is adorable and adoring when he takes a mind to be. He likes to tease and play in typical five year-old fashion. His four cowlicks, two of which swirl in opposite directions in his crown, guarantee that his hair always sticks up except for the two weeks after dad gives one of his great haircuts. He can charm anyone, and has a way of wrapping teachers and grown-ups around his finger after about four minutes in their class.

So why do I need help? If he is really so wonderful, then what, exactly is the problem?

Padawan went through some difficult kid-stuff between age two and three. I chalked it up to a new baby brother and a major move. Everything considered, in fact, he did remarkably well. He started coming into his own and the Jedi Knight always wanted him to tag along.

Then Jedi Knight went to school.
And Mommy had a baby and an early morning paper route.

And Padawan wasn't quite a big boy, but he wasn't quite a baby.

Ever since then, he has been stuck between big and little. He plays it to his advantage. "I don't want to do that, I'm not a baby like Youngling!" "I can't do that, I'm not a big boy like Jedi Knight."

So far, this is all typical middle child/5 year-old stuff. In fact, when I found out that number three was going to be a boy, I held Padawan close and kissed him, and though I never said it out loud I told him in my head a hundred times that I was sorry that he would never be my "baby" boy again. There was never a sweeter baby.

Then, about 18 months ago, when Plantboy and I took our tenth anniversary trip, he was left with my mom for a few days, and then a loving aunt the boys are crazy about. When I picked him up, he was full of stories of all that they had done, and seemed reluctant to leave Aunt Sugar. On our way home we noticed that he was doing this weird snorting, clearing his throat thing. I thought he'd picked up a cold at first.

He had not.

Allergies?

It didn't seem to be.

The thing is when he would sniff and clear his throat, he didn't seem to have any mucus. The odd habit, which got worse when he was nervous or when it was pointed out, became a tic which he would do several times an hour unless he became extremely busy and distracted. Having taught and/or tutored several students with Tourette's Syndrome before, it seemed like some things fell into place. People with TS tend to be rather OCD. Even as a young child, Youngling was fastidious about making sure that doors and drawers were shut and hated even having a drop of water or spot of mud or dirt on his clothes. In fact, my brother and I had sometimes joked about Padawan being OCD when we would watch him toddle over to any open doors and slam them shut. Now it was coupled with a tic--a tic that was exacerbated by nervousness.

I did some homework and shared what I learned with Plantboy, who had been trying various ways to make Padawan drop the habit, some of which were slightly punishing. I convinced Plantboy to just pretend it wasn't happening and to wait an see. I prayed a lot during that time, having seen brief glimpses into the lives of families who deal with TS.

Padawan stopped.

But after that we noticed some things. Any time he was in front of people--a talk a church, introduced to new people, even reciting Articles of Faith in family home evening--the tic would come back. Or another one would arise. Itching was really common.

Starting earlier his year he began a new default mode--we call it drama-boy mode. When something doesn't work out for him, he immediately begins pouting or crying or yelling or throwing things, including himself, to the ground. He has an initial outburst and then folds his arms and stomps away. Sometimes I don't even know what has made him angry. I've reassured him a hundred times that if he asks for help then I can give it to him and remind him that very few of his problems are unsolvable. I've also repeatedly focused on not doing things for him until he drops the drama and uses his words.

The irony is, that of all my kids, his basic personality is the most mellow. He isn't too upset about changes in schedule or spontaneous things. He used to remind me so much of my sweet, laid-back husband, but it is hard to really say that any more. These outbursts have started to overshadow every other part of him, and his lack of self-control is wreaking havoc on our family. He butts heads terribly with Plantboy; on especially bad days, peace between the two of them balances on a knife-point. He pushes me to the point where I yell, then I feel terrible and try to start over with him. His innermost nature is so sweet and forgiving that he is quick to hug and cuddle after we have trouble. He fights with his brothers, more than the other two fight with him. He bosses and loses his temper with them. He is stubborn when he plays and quick to explode when things don't go his way.

His latest OCD behavior is that he is very picky about the way his clothes fit. I have a huge container of clothes left over from Jedi Knight, and he will hardly wear any of them. He is perpetually out of clothes to wear because I can't wash fast enough to keep up with the only two pairs of pants he will actually wear to school--and one of the pairs he will only wear sometimes.

I have a plan for working through the clothing problem, and it will give him a chance to get lots of one-on-one time with mother. But I have a terrible feeling that solving the problem will only buy us a little bit of breathing room until the next "catastrophe."

This is the kind of post "they" say you should never write, because your children will hate you for it one day. But I didn't know who else to turn to than the folks, who oddly enough, know me the best because they visit here regularly*. I want to hear about your parenting experiences with middle children, nieces, nephews and grandchildren. I want to hear about your childhood (and adult!) experiences if you are in the middle yourself. Please don't assume that if your situation isn't identical that you can't offer something useful; I'm open to anything right now. Once I get some feedback, I will do a favor to Padawan's future self and move the post off the Internet.

Help.

*Blogger's stat counter is much better than the one I was using previously. I noticed that during the summer, according to my last stat counter, that I had a huge spike in the number of daily visitors after I went to Utah. Intrigued and pleased, I was feeling very self-assured. Enter Blogger's stats in September, with very specific information on which pages are getting the hits. My number one post every day for months has been that silly piece I wrote just before going on vacation about how I should have my hair cut. Apparently, running a Google search for certain types of haircuts brings back a hit for my blog that must be in the first page or two. I've had traffic from all over the world looking for the same kind of hair style I was hoping to achieve. Needless to say, Blogger's stat counter has greatly deflated my ego. It's a good thing.