Is anyone else having fashion flashbacks to the early 90's? I'm seeing plaid shirts and "casual" sweatshirts (I'm sure I had one of those in aqua) and bold sweater patterns. And denim and chambray and denim and chambray. And I'm feeling these pangs of. . . haven't I been here before?
The denim thing is what really gets me because there was a time in the 90's when it was very popular to dress the whole extended family in a denim shirt and take a family picture. There are some families in some places (Idaho, let's be real, I'm talking about Idaho) who hung onto this for a long time. Like until last year. And now
TADA!
they are in style again.
Just get that denim shirt from the closet, now it's in style!
I think I had enough denim and chambray and that's why I'm having a tough time embracing it.
The denim shirtdress, I notice, is extremely trendy. Talbots has one, Lands End has one, Gap has two that look very denim shirtdressy . . .
And I'm just so confused. It all edges way, way too close to denim jumper.
Which I avoided the first time around.
Please. Comment. Tell me I'm not alone.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
The Roosevelts on PBS
Anyone else watch The Roosevelts on PBS last week? I liked the scope of all the years in perspective.
Wouldn't that be a fabulous way to teach historical setting, Katy, to do a family history "Where Were Your Family Members?" timeline spanning fifty years/and wars or so.
I'm sure you already thought of that, Katy. Don't mind me; I'm just clueing in.
Wouldn't that be a fabulous way to teach historical setting, Katy, to do a family history "Where Were Your Family Members?" timeline spanning fifty years/and wars or so.
I'm sure you already thought of that, Katy. Don't mind me; I'm just clueing in.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Fill the Void
My sister told me about the film Fill the Void, about a young orthodox Jewish woman named Shira Mendleman whose older sister has died, leaving a newborn baby and a young, grieving husband. It soon becomes clear that the recent widower will find a new wife and leave with the baby. The mother of the young woman who has died conspires to have the Shira marry her brother-in-law (thus fill the void) . . . and Shira struggles.
My sister told me about the movie because there's a great scene where the Shira's mother and father are talking and the mother says, "I think I'm falling apart" and the father says, "So fall apart. I'm here."
Which is great.
But there were other scenes I liked as well. . . such as the mother's overt/covert passive/aggressive manipulation trying to get Shira to make the decision she wants. The mother says, "No one is pressuring you . . . but he's such a good man . . . it's your decision . . . this is what you need to do."
Oy vey! The mom guilt!
It reminded me of the Mom in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, where she's trying to get her kids to eat breakfast and she says, "When I was your age, we didn't have food!!!"
It transcends cultures, really it does.
I also like the part when Shira is sitting with the wise rabbi and he asks her if she wants to marry her brother-in-law. Shira says she will do her duty and hopes she can do it well. But the rabbi just shakes his head and says, "Shira-le, oh, Shira-le"and then HE DOESN'T MAKE HER DO IT because he wants her to marry for a better reason than duty. Love that man.
But my favorite part. My very favorite, favorite part, is the part with the woman and the rabbi and the stove. I started to laugh and laugh and called to Eric, "Honey, come quick! You have to see this! It's not just us! Jewish rabbis have to stop what they are doing too!"
If you like foreign film, slow film, and subtitles, try this one.
My sister told me about the movie because there's a great scene where the Shira's mother and father are talking and the mother says, "I think I'm falling apart" and the father says, "So fall apart. I'm here."
Which is great.
But there were other scenes I liked as well. . . such as the mother's overt/covert passive/aggressive manipulation trying to get Shira to make the decision she wants. The mother says, "No one is pressuring you . . . but he's such a good man . . . it's your decision . . . this is what you need to do."
Oy vey! The mom guilt!
It reminded me of the Mom in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, where she's trying to get her kids to eat breakfast and she says, "When I was your age, we didn't have food!!!"
It transcends cultures, really it does.
I also like the part when Shira is sitting with the wise rabbi and he asks her if she wants to marry her brother-in-law. Shira says she will do her duty and hopes she can do it well. But the rabbi just shakes his head and says, "Shira-le, oh, Shira-le"and then HE DOESN'T MAKE HER DO IT because he wants her to marry for a better reason than duty. Love that man.
But my favorite part. My very favorite, favorite part, is the part with the woman and the rabbi and the stove. I started to laugh and laugh and called to Eric, "Honey, come quick! You have to see this! It's not just us! Jewish rabbis have to stop what they are doing too!"
If you like foreign film, slow film, and subtitles, try this one.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
The Fault in Our Stars by John Green
I was reading another (great) book when my friend Mariann recommended The Fault in Our Stars by John Green about a girl with terminal cancer who falls in love. There's some language, there's lots of sass.
I read the first few pages and I was hooked. Line and sinker.
Jillaire and Mel, have you read this one yet? Put it on your list.
The back cover says The Fault in Our Stars in "Insightful, Bold, Irreverent, and Raw", and yes it is.
The back cover also says, "This is a book that breaks your heart---not by wearing it down, but by making it bigger and bigger until it bursts" which sounds so cliche that I didn't think it was possible. But it is and it was.
And that's my recommendation for TFIOS: It lives up to all the hipe-y, sappy, you'll-think-this-is-great blurbs on the back cover and front flap.
Hard to do, but it does.
Recommended by me? Oh yes.
Okay?
Okay.
I read the first few pages and I was hooked. Line and sinker.
Jillaire and Mel, have you read this one yet? Put it on your list.
The back cover says The Fault in Our Stars in "Insightful, Bold, Irreverent, and Raw", and yes it is.
The back cover also says, "This is a book that breaks your heart---not by wearing it down, but by making it bigger and bigger until it bursts" which sounds so cliche that I didn't think it was possible. But it is and it was.
And that's my recommendation for TFIOS: It lives up to all the hipe-y, sappy, you'll-think-this-is-great blurbs on the back cover and front flap.
Hard to do, but it does.
Recommended by me? Oh yes.
Okay?
Okay.
Friday, June 27, 2014
The Big Year with Jack Black and Steve Martin
I don't like movies with violence.
I don't like movies with love scenes.
I don't like immodesty or anything illegal.
Kids movies and animal documentaries general bore me.
Makes the quest for movies tricky. They can only re-make the Jane Austens so fast . . .
But every now and then I find a movie that's clean enough and quirky enough and interesting enough.
Like The Big Year, which came out in 2011, with Steve Martin and Jack Black (be impressed that I know any actors' names at all).
It's about.
Birding.
You know, people who roam the country looking at birds.
It was just about my pace.
And I liked it.
Liz, have you seen this one? You'll like the national sweep of landscape and the portrayal of people obsessed with birding.
But caution: There is swearing and some sensuality. So watch it before you watch it with your kids.
I don't like movies with love scenes.
I don't like immodesty or anything illegal.
Kids movies and animal documentaries general bore me.
Makes the quest for movies tricky. They can only re-make the Jane Austens so fast . . .
But every now and then I find a movie that's clean enough and quirky enough and interesting enough.
Like The Big Year, which came out in 2011, with Steve Martin and Jack Black (be impressed that I know any actors' names at all).
It's about.
Birding.
You know, people who roam the country looking at birds.
It was just about my pace.
And I liked it.
Liz, have you seen this one? You'll like the national sweep of landscape and the portrayal of people obsessed with birding.
But caution: There is swearing and some sensuality. So watch it before you watch it with your kids.
Friday, May 16, 2014
The Rent Collector by Cameron Wright
The Rent Collector by Cameron Wright, got good reviews on Amazon. But it was a miss for me. A serious miss.
The Rent Collector is about Sang Ly, a woman living in a garbage dump slum in Cambodia. She and her husband, Ki Lim, sort through garbage to survive.
Sang Ly isn't educated. She doesn't read. So I kept getting tripped up when her character would think things like: "I have been told that there is a specialized college degree that studies civilizations by sifting through layers of their trash." (page 23) and "How could I explain the illogical feelings swirling and swelling inside, forcing my action?" (page 30) and "administer a course of antibiotics" (page 40).
What? This from an illiterate woman living in a garbage dump slum?
I doubt Wright has ever lived in or near a garbage slum or known personally people who live there. Because he'd realize the people there aren't stupid, but they just aren't educated enough to know about specialized college degrees or be able to describe swirling, swelling feelings, or know that antibiotics have a course.
So Sany Ly's voice wasn't believable to me. Perhaps it's because I've lived near 3rd world dumps and known the people who lived there; seen glimpses of the world through their world-view. They taught me many things, truly, but it would be wrong for me to try to write their view by superimposing an educated voice on top of it.
I skimmed the rest of the book: Sang Ly learns to read and is inspired by great stories and great literature. All very noble. That's the message. Got it.
But it just didn't work for me. Any one really like it?
And one last thing: Where was the editor? There were way, way too many . . . . And then some---And then again . . . And then again---. It was like a car that kept braking for cats that kept darting in to the literary road and could never make it across town.
The Rent Collector is about Sang Ly, a woman living in a garbage dump slum in Cambodia. She and her husband, Ki Lim, sort through garbage to survive.
Sang Ly isn't educated. She doesn't read. So I kept getting tripped up when her character would think things like: "I have been told that there is a specialized college degree that studies civilizations by sifting through layers of their trash." (page 23) and "How could I explain the illogical feelings swirling and swelling inside, forcing my action?" (page 30) and "administer a course of antibiotics" (page 40).
What? This from an illiterate woman living in a garbage dump slum?
I doubt Wright has ever lived in or near a garbage slum or known personally people who live there. Because he'd realize the people there aren't stupid, but they just aren't educated enough to know about specialized college degrees or be able to describe swirling, swelling feelings, or know that antibiotics have a course.
So Sany Ly's voice wasn't believable to me. Perhaps it's because I've lived near 3rd world dumps and known the people who lived there; seen glimpses of the world through their world-view. They taught me many things, truly, but it would be wrong for me to try to write their view by superimposing an educated voice on top of it.
I skimmed the rest of the book: Sang Ly learns to read and is inspired by great stories and great literature. All very noble. That's the message. Got it.
But it just didn't work for me. Any one really like it?
And one last thing: Where was the editor? There were way, way too many . . . . And then some---And then again . . . And then again---. It was like a car that kept braking for cats that kept darting in to the literary road and could never make it across town.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline
Orphan Train by Kline was on my book club's reading list.
You can tell it's not Kline's first novel because it has a nice story arc. Develops well, not too fast, ends well, not too rushed. Good character development.
The most fascinating thing is that Kline takes something real: the orphan trains that brought kids west, adds fictional characters, parallels it with a fictional story of a young woman in modern-day foster care, and POOF!
Story, there you go.
A good solid summer 2014 read. I'll pass my copy on and not necessarily need it back.
So if you see a copy at Costco . . . . :)
P.S. I hear there's another book by the same title. So if this is what you are looking for, make sure you get the one by Kline.
You can tell it's not Kline's first novel because it has a nice story arc. Develops well, not too fast, ends well, not too rushed. Good character development.
The most fascinating thing is that Kline takes something real: the orphan trains that brought kids west, adds fictional characters, parallels it with a fictional story of a young woman in modern-day foster care, and POOF!
Story, there you go.
A good solid summer 2014 read. I'll pass my copy on and not necessarily need it back.
So if you see a copy at Costco . . . . :)
P.S. I hear there's another book by the same title. So if this is what you are looking for, make sure you get the one by Kline.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Who knew you could write a mother's day poem about a lanyard?
In honor of mothers, children, and those blasted camp crafts, on this Mother's Day. Best read out loud (of course):
The Lanyard - Billy Collins
The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.
I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.
Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.
Included in the book (OCT 2005), The Trouble with Poetry.
Saturday, May 3, 2014
The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grissom
Just as I can only take so much Holocaust historical fiction, I can only take so much antebellum South and slavery books. But again, it had been a while, and again, there was that book at Costco. (Costco tables make me pine for the book stores of old. I hope those stores come back. I miss them.)
So I read The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grissom, historical fiction of the antebellum south. You can find a good plot summary somewhere that would do it better justice than I could.
Plot: Good. Characters: good. I always like it when authors can tell the story from different character's points of view. Loved the portray of how the lives of the landowners and the lives of the slaves/servants intertwined. I thought the end was a little rushed, but there has to be an end somehow. For a first work of Grissom, pretty good.
Violence. There's violence. Skipped it. If it bothers you that there's violence and you can't skip it, pass on this book.
I'd actually like to read it with a book group and talk about some of the characters. I found Marshall incredibly pathetic, both "pathetic" meaning full of pathos and "pathetic" meaning despise-able. And there's conflict to discuss for sure, for sure.
Would I recommend it? Maybe. If the topic interests you, yes. I wouldn't put it on a "must read classics" list (like Book Thief, like These is My Words, and like Guernsey), but worth the time if you are interested or are looking for a decent read for this summer.
So I read The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grissom, historical fiction of the antebellum south. You can find a good plot summary somewhere that would do it better justice than I could.
Plot: Good. Characters: good. I always like it when authors can tell the story from different character's points of view. Loved the portray of how the lives of the landowners and the lives of the slaves/servants intertwined. I thought the end was a little rushed, but there has to be an end somehow. For a first work of Grissom, pretty good.
Violence. There's violence. Skipped it. If it bothers you that there's violence and you can't skip it, pass on this book.
I'd actually like to read it with a book group and talk about some of the characters. I found Marshall incredibly pathetic, both "pathetic" meaning full of pathos and "pathetic" meaning despise-able. And there's conflict to discuss for sure, for sure.
Would I recommend it? Maybe. If the topic interests you, yes. I wouldn't put it on a "must read classics" list (like Book Thief, like These is My Words, and like Guernsey), but worth the time if you are interested or are looking for a decent read for this summer.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
The Book Thief by Zusak
I can only take so many Holocaust novels. I went through a phase where I read quite a bit of YA Holocaust literature: Boy in the Striped Pajamas, Number the Stars, Tell No One Who You Are, Diary of Anne Frank. Great for teaching---lots of discussion, lots of conflict.
But every story makes my heart hurt again, so I have to psyche myself up to read another one.
But there was this long road trip that we took . . .
And there was a copy of The Book Thief by Markus Zusak at Costco . . . .
And the book was amazing. So obvious that it's not Zusak's first work. So obvious that he knows what he's doing with dialogue and character.
It's art, this book. It's brilliant. It's worthy of all the hype it's received.
If you haven't read it, yet, do.
I would love to teach it. Discuss it. Read essays written about it, even poorly written essays by 8th graders finding their own voice and their own humanity.
Last note:
Death as the narrator. Brilliant!
But every story makes my heart hurt again, so I have to psyche myself up to read another one.
But there was this long road trip that we took . . .
And there was a copy of The Book Thief by Markus Zusak at Costco . . . .
And the book was amazing. So obvious that it's not Zusak's first work. So obvious that he knows what he's doing with dialogue and character.
It's art, this book. It's brilliant. It's worthy of all the hype it's received.
If you haven't read it, yet, do.
I would love to teach it. Discuss it. Read essays written about it, even poorly written essays by 8th graders finding their own voice and their own humanity.
Last note:
Death as the narrator. Brilliant!
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Olsen's Standing here, Ironing
I'm sure it was required reading when I read Tillie Olsen's short story "As I Stand Here Ironing," where a mother reflects on the choices she made in raising her daughter Emily, and the consequences of those decisions.
It's a short story, even for short stories, and I got so into it that I barely breathed through the first reading. Then I mentally wrestled through the second reading. Then I handled Eric the baby and went on a long walk so I could deconstruct the text while walking by myself.
I have a different perspective now, twenty years later, reading the text at this phase in my life, where mothering little children is what I do all day and all night.
I am ever aware, now, that the way I treat my children is shaping the people they are becoming and how they perceive themselves.
I'm aware of that. Which is what I bring to this text that I didn't know when I was twenty years old, sitting in a literature class where I probably had nothing to say when the professor asked, "So, what did you think?"
So it's a different text this time, and I am a different woman reading it.
So I took a long walk and thought about mothering and just what it is that I'm doing and trying to do and how I want to tread gently and kindly in my children's lives.
As I walked back near home, I heard the baby fussing from the open upstairs bedroom window. It was the time of the night where he wants his mommy and he wants to eat. And I could hear that he wasn't really seriously crying, just sort of starting to get worked up.
So as I walked in the door, before I went to the baby, I hugged each of my other kids and smiled at them. Gave them each a full dose of my attention before I dashed off to do something else.
Go find a copy. Then tell me what you think. It's a quick read, really, ten minutes. There are lots of anthologies that have it, but I used Points of View, Revised Edition by James Moffett.
If I could convince a book club to read it, I'd do it. Pair it with Gilman's The Yellow Wallpaper, which I'd love to discuss that with intelligent women and analyze the wallpaper as a symbol for depression.
Here's just a teaser for one little tiny thing I'd love to discuss, from Ironing,
In this, the mother is recalling that her daughter was a good child who did more than should be expected of a child, even at a very young age. The mother asks herself, recalling this, "What in me demanded that goodness in her? And what was the cost, the cost to her of such goodness?"
See? That's a good start for discussion right there.
I don't think this story is just for mothers. It's for anyone who has been a mother or a daughter. Or anyone who has been a child or been a parent. So, everyone who has ever had a family with imperfect people in it.
You know. All of us.
It's a short story, even for short stories, and I got so into it that I barely breathed through the first reading. Then I mentally wrestled through the second reading. Then I handled Eric the baby and went on a long walk so I could deconstruct the text while walking by myself.
I have a different perspective now, twenty years later, reading the text at this phase in my life, where mothering little children is what I do all day and all night.
I am ever aware, now, that the way I treat my children is shaping the people they are becoming and how they perceive themselves.
I'm aware of that. Which is what I bring to this text that I didn't know when I was twenty years old, sitting in a literature class where I probably had nothing to say when the professor asked, "So, what did you think?"
So it's a different text this time, and I am a different woman reading it.
So I took a long walk and thought about mothering and just what it is that I'm doing and trying to do and how I want to tread gently and kindly in my children's lives.
As I walked back near home, I heard the baby fussing from the open upstairs bedroom window. It was the time of the night where he wants his mommy and he wants to eat. And I could hear that he wasn't really seriously crying, just sort of starting to get worked up.
So as I walked in the door, before I went to the baby, I hugged each of my other kids and smiled at them. Gave them each a full dose of my attention before I dashed off to do something else.
Go find a copy. Then tell me what you think. It's a quick read, really, ten minutes. There are lots of anthologies that have it, but I used Points of View, Revised Edition by James Moffett.
If I could convince a book club to read it, I'd do it. Pair it with Gilman's The Yellow Wallpaper, which I'd love to discuss that with intelligent women and analyze the wallpaper as a symbol for depression.
Here's just a teaser for one little tiny thing I'd love to discuss, from Ironing,
In this, the mother is recalling that her daughter was a good child who did more than should be expected of a child, even at a very young age. The mother asks herself, recalling this, "What in me demanded that goodness in her? And what was the cost, the cost to her of such goodness?"
See? That's a good start for discussion right there.
I don't think this story is just for mothers. It's for anyone who has been a mother or a daughter. Or anyone who has been a child or been a parent. So, everyone who has ever had a family with imperfect people in it.
You know. All of us.
The Light Between Oceans by Stedman
Someone asked what my latest book recommendation was and I told her; it's The Light Between Oceans by Stedman. Then I leant her my copy, which is how I justify buying books these days, I'm going to lend it out, that's why I need a real copy.
So since she has my copy, I can't write the quotes out that were my favorites. And I won't waste your time with plot summary---just look on Amazon.
What I can say is that I liked the book, Stedman did a great job for a first novel, and there are some great passages about love and forgiveness that I've been thought rumbling. And it's made me ponder things like:
1. When we love someone to know well enough what their breaking point is, and we watch as they are pushed past it and then they break and act badly . . . well, we should have seen that coming and we better forgive them already.
2. In a perfect world no one grieves, mourns, gets depressed, or can't see clearly. Too bad we don't live there, we're stuck loving each other despite our imperfections.
3. (And this is what I've really been pondering a lot . . . ) My observation in real life is that people react to difficult experiences in one of two ways:
a) They either close themselves off to other people---no one else has suffering. No one else knows pain. No one else went through what they did, so no one else hurts.
or
b) They grow in compassion for all people who suffer, even if their pain isn't exactly the same.
I'd say, try the book. Good prose. Good story. A little emotional manipulation and plot twist whiplash, but Stedman's new at this, so we should cut her some slack.
And the overall theme of the book: People hurt. Let's forgive. People make bad choices. Let's forgive. Stick it out, don't bail, and forgive, forgive, forgive.
So since she has my copy, I can't write the quotes out that were my favorites. And I won't waste your time with plot summary---just look on Amazon.
What I can say is that I liked the book, Stedman did a great job for a first novel, and there are some great passages about love and forgiveness that I've been thought rumbling. And it's made me ponder things like:
1. When we love someone to know well enough what their breaking point is, and we watch as they are pushed past it and then they break and act badly . . . well, we should have seen that coming and we better forgive them already.
2. In a perfect world no one grieves, mourns, gets depressed, or can't see clearly. Too bad we don't live there, we're stuck loving each other despite our imperfections.
3. (And this is what I've really been pondering a lot . . . ) My observation in real life is that people react to difficult experiences in one of two ways:
a) They either close themselves off to other people---no one else has suffering. No one else knows pain. No one else went through what they did, so no one else hurts.
or
b) They grow in compassion for all people who suffer, even if their pain isn't exactly the same.
I'd say, try the book. Good prose. Good story. A little emotional manipulation and plot twist whiplash, but Stedman's new at this, so we should cut her some slack.
And the overall theme of the book: People hurt. Let's forgive. People make bad choices. Let's forgive. Stick it out, don't bail, and forgive, forgive, forgive.
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Alexandria with Bettany Hughes
The baby is now two months old.
Here's what I do during the day: sit and feed the baby.
Here's what I do during the night: sit and feed the baby.
Makes Netflix Instant Queue really appealing. And there's only so many episodes of "What not To Wear" and "Yes to the Dress, Bridesmaids" that I can take.
So I decided to ping off the documentary list and watched Alexandria with Bettany Hughes, which chronicles the history of the great city Alexandria. Which I knew nothing about.
But 48 minutes interesting minutes later, I was entertained and educated about Alexandria and the influential female mathematician, Hypatia, who lived there.
If you have the slightly, littlest, most minuscule amount of interest in Alexandrea, Alexander the Great, Hypatia, or this time period, this is worth watching.
Would be great in a history class, home or public.
Here's what I do during the day: sit and feed the baby.
Here's what I do during the night: sit and feed the baby.
Makes Netflix Instant Queue really appealing. And there's only so many episodes of "What not To Wear" and "Yes to the Dress, Bridesmaids" that I can take.
So I decided to ping off the documentary list and watched Alexandria with Bettany Hughes, which chronicles the history of the great city Alexandria. Which I knew nothing about.
But 48 minutes interesting minutes later, I was entertained and educated about Alexandria and the influential female mathematician, Hypatia, who lived there.
If you have the slightly, littlest, most minuscule amount of interest in Alexandrea, Alexander the Great, Hypatia, or this time period, this is worth watching.
Would be great in a history class, home or public.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Genetics Book for Kids: Found One!
I asked a while back if anyone knew of any genetics books for kids, and the authors of one such book responded on my blog.
And so I bought the book. It seemed only fair.
It's called When Will Broccoli Taste Like Chocolate: Your Questions on Genetic Traits Answered by Stanford University Scientists by Bodian and Starr. It's is written deliberately in engaging prose and the authors try to tone down the academic speak.
So after I glanced at it, I handed it to the most reliable kid book critic I know: my kid. The one who had the questions about genetics in the first place. And it keeps being moved, and read, in different parts of the house. So I think we have a winner.
I have to say that I think most of concepts in this book are over his head. But he's 8. So the fact that it interests him at all is what impresses me. I think it's a great addition to our book shelf, and any home library bookshelf (homeschoolers and school kids alike) where the kids are interested in genetics.
And so I bought the book. It seemed only fair.
It's called When Will Broccoli Taste Like Chocolate: Your Questions on Genetic Traits Answered by Stanford University Scientists by Bodian and Starr. It's is written deliberately in engaging prose and the authors try to tone down the academic speak.
So after I glanced at it, I handed it to the most reliable kid book critic I know: my kid. The one who had the questions about genetics in the first place. And it keeps being moved, and read, in different parts of the house. So I think we have a winner.
I have to say that I think most of concepts in this book are over his head. But he's 8. So the fact that it interests him at all is what impresses me. I think it's a great addition to our book shelf, and any home library bookshelf (homeschoolers and school kids alike) where the kids are interested in genetics.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot
So if you're ever going to go into labor anytime soon, and you want something that will be a conversation starter on the table beside you while the medical staff come in and out, read at least part of The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot and take the book with you.
Or if you just want a good book, and you aren't going to have anything to do with labor any time soon, you can try it too.
The book is about the cells of the cancerous tumor of Henrietta Lacks. Rebecca Skloot is a fine writer and fine researcher and the book is well-written, interesting, and it clips along at a nice pace.
Seriously? A book about a woman's cells?
You'll be surprised. It's pretty good.
Because these cells became the basis for heaps of medical research and breakthroughs.
I think it could also go on that ever-evasive quest for something clean enough for a church book group.
But anyway, I had this out on my hospital table during my labor/pitocin/edidural waiting game, and I had one nurse, one doctor, and at least one researcher (all women) come through before the baby was born. And each saw the book there and said, "Hey! That's a great book!" or said, "Do you like it? That's on my list."
Which made me seem like an intelligent mommy patient and we could talk about something other than the obvious.
It's always nice to appear an intelligent, rational mommy before the labor pains really hit and I'm pushing the baby out and screaming like a banshee.
Or if you just want a good book, and you aren't going to have anything to do with labor any time soon, you can try it too.
The book is about the cells of the cancerous tumor of Henrietta Lacks. Rebecca Skloot is a fine writer and fine researcher and the book is well-written, interesting, and it clips along at a nice pace.
Seriously? A book about a woman's cells?
You'll be surprised. It's pretty good.
Because these cells became the basis for heaps of medical research and breakthroughs.
I think it could also go on that ever-evasive quest for something clean enough for a church book group.
But anyway, I had this out on my hospital table during my labor/pitocin/edidural waiting game, and I had one nurse, one doctor, and at least one researcher (all women) come through before the baby was born. And each saw the book there and said, "Hey! That's a great book!" or said, "Do you like it? That's on my list."
Which made me seem like an intelligent mommy patient and we could talk about something other than the obvious.
It's always nice to appear an intelligent, rational mommy before the labor pains really hit and I'm pushing the baby out and screaming like a banshee.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Portrait of a New Mom at Three Weeks Postpartum
So I had the baby. Insights and stories abound on being the mom of a baby again and of being the mom of four kids. We'll see what I can get written. But here's one to start . .
This morning before Eric went to work, he took the boys to school and my little lady to a playdate (May the heavens bless the women who let my daughter come play in the mornings so I can sleep!). When he came back to switch cars and leave me with the van, he found me in the dining room:
Wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt
Hair in a ponytail
Baby in the crook of my arm while I stood there, bouncing him to sleep
While I was eating oatmeal with my other hand, all the while bouncing the baby.
I laughed and said, "Hey Dear. Here you see the portrait of a new mom."
Yes, especially since the baby was Mr. Personality and Mr. Social from about 1 to 3:30. AM.
And that is how it is. Party on, Tired Mom.
This morning before Eric went to work, he took the boys to school and my little lady to a playdate (May the heavens bless the women who let my daughter come play in the mornings so I can sleep!). When he came back to switch cars and leave me with the van, he found me in the dining room:
Wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt
Hair in a ponytail
Baby in the crook of my arm while I stood there, bouncing him to sleep
While I was eating oatmeal with my other hand, all the while bouncing the baby.
I laughed and said, "Hey Dear. Here you see the portrait of a new mom."
Yes, especially since the baby was Mr. Personality and Mr. Social from about 1 to 3:30. AM.
And that is how it is. Party on, Tired Mom.
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