So, I’m feeling the blogging blues (not sure if they really exist, but I’ll call them that.) I don’t have anything earth-shattering to say today, but all day I’ve wanted to update my blog with SOMETHING. So I guess we’ll just see what comes out…

September is a strange month to me. I still feel like I should be going back to school, so I get a little restless this time of year. It must be something ingrained in us from all those years of starting a new life in the early autumn: new teachers, new classes, new friends, new clothes. It took me a few years to recognize that I get this way, so I just need to wait and it will pass.

One year I took this restlessness to the extreme and decided that I should be a nurse, and I signed myself up for a CNA course. Big mistake. It was a two-week course, and I was doing great up until the 4th day, when the teacher started going over how to change the nursing home patient’s colostomy bags. It FREAKED me out; I had had no idea going into the course that the resident’s poop would be in anything besides a toilet or a diaper. I quickly decided that my nice, safe desk job would do me fine, and I didn’t go back for the last of class or attempt the “clinical” week. So much for Nurse Becky.

This isn’t to say that I wouldn’t like to go back to school one day. I would LOVE to get a masters degree so that I could be a librarian or an English teacher (sorry, Amy, I always was a copycat!) Then I could go back to school each year with my kids and maybe I would lose the restlessness. Of course it might be that it is just something that comes with the change in the air.

I never used to like fall when I was younger. Now I like the repetitiveness of knowing what my trees will look like in a few weeks; of anticipating that Shane will cut back my dogwood tree too much, just like he does every year. I look forward to Conference Weekend, when my sisters and our families gather at my mom and dad’s house to visit and have one last outdoor get-together. It will be fun to see Thomas playing soccer again, each week’s game being a little colder, the wind a bit sharper than the previous.

Like it or not, fall is coming. Bring on the change!

This is a picture of one of our trees. I love how the leaves look in the fall!

Books, Books, Books

On the county library site today, they mentioned that September 29 through October 6 is “Banned Books Week,” citing, “First observed in 1982, Banned Books Week reminds Americans not to take this democratic freedom for granted, and is endorsed by the Library of Congress Center for the Book. Citizens are encouraged to check out and read some of the books that have been challenged, censored and/or banned over the years. A few of the books that have been challenged include The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger, Forever by Judy Blume, Beloved by Toni Morrison and the Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling.” As I read the list of books (which, if I remember from past years, also includes the Bible, the Koran, even the Book of Mormon) I realized how many of the them are books that I have read and reread many times over. So, in tribute to Banned Books week, albeit that it happens in a month, I want to write about books that I have loved, and that have impacted me, which, in many cases, are on the list (but not all). I am writing this without the aid of the actual books in my hand to refer to, so if I mix something up, don’t think too badly of me! BTW, if anyone cares to see a list of commonly banned books, here is a link.

Beloved, by Toni Morrison.
This book stood out to me from the above list for many reasons. I can’t think of Beloved without simultaneously wanting to cry at its beauty, and cringe at the depiction of Beloved’s character in the movie version (I didn’t appreciate Oprah making her seem, for lack of a better word, retarded.) I first read Beloved in one of my literary criticism classes at the University of Utah. Here is an excerpt:

124 WAS SPITEFUL. Full of a baby's venom. The women in the house knew it and so did the children. For years each put up with the spite in his own way, but by 1873 Sethe and her daughter Denver were its only victims. The grandmother, Baby Suggs, was dead, and the sons, Howard and Buglar, had run away by the time they were thirteen years old--as soon as merely looking in a mirror shattered it (that was the signal for Buglar); as soon as two tiny hand prints appeared in the cake (that was it for Howard). Neither boy waited to see more; another kettleful of chickpeas smoking in a heap on the floor; soda crackers crumbled and strewn in a line next to the doorsill. Nor did they wait for one of the relief periods: the weeks, months even, when nothing was disturbed. No. Each one fled at once--the moment the house committed what was for him the one insult not to be borne or witnessed a second time.

“Full of a baby’s venom.” Oh, that just brings such a clear picture to mind, and it is so indicative of Morrison’s talent at evoking powerful visualizations in her writing. A baby’s venom, making them almost vampires, their need for milk and love and affection sucking the life force out of its host, the mother. It almost gives me chills.

To me, Beloved is so much more than a slavery story, much more than a ghost story simply because of the beauty of Morrison’s prose. I love that the reason that Sethe put the name “Beloved” on her baby’s grave was because it was one of the only two words she remembered from her baby’s funeral: Dearly Beloved, and that she couldn’t afford to put the whole name on the gravestone. What words would I remember from my baby’s funeral? What scars would I wear from the death of my child? Would I wear my scars as nobly as Sethe?

I can remember one evening when I read the final chapter of Beloved to Shane, and sobbing as I read because of the beauty of it. Some of the chapters are only a few paragraphs long, and taken on their own, read as poetry.

I realize that I am not coming close to giving this beautiful book justice, but I had to begin my list of books with it.

Possession, by AS Byatt
This is a book that Amy recommended that I read, which I had began reading years ago and never finished and so I went back and reread it. It is the story of two academics who discover that two authors who lived a century before had a love affair. A quote from Possession was used in another of my favorite books, The Time Traveler’s Wife, where it says (I’m paraphrasing here) that they had reached the middle part of their lives: that everything they had ever done before was leading up to that moment, and that everything after would be a result of that moment. I don’t have one singular moment in my life, but there are certain events I look back and think about them and wonder if I missed some smell or thought or impression that should have led me to know that something significant was going to happen, and that forever afterward I would look upon that event as a turning point. Byatt’s use of telling both the modern story of the scholars doing the research, and also the lover’s story in the past is so well done. She immerses the reader in the excitement of words, in the use of language to convey to unknown readers the things that we cannot shout out to the words, but whisper into letters hidden in baby cradles. Just writing about Possession makes me want to go out and read it again. The movie version is excellent; I love Gweneth Paltrow in it, and the movie stayed very close to the intent of the book.


The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver
I read this book before I had children, but even so, I was (and still am) haunted by some of the chapters that are narrated by the mother, Orleanna Price. It is the story of the wife and four daughters of a Baptist preacher who go to the Congo to spread the word of God. Each chapter is told from the perspective of either one of the daughters or the mother. In the chapter after one of the daughters dies, the mother speaks of her love for her baby, for the baby who came last, who “trailed her sweet scent” through the annals of memory. She writes how your first born is your best foot forward, that you cheer every step they make and then “crow it to the world.” But she contrasts that with your baby; your lastborn, who is the last to escape your body, whom you hold for a half hour after they are asleep just to make sure, whom you bathe with such tenderness, kissing their dimpled soapy hands as you try to make them giggle, remembering their fuzzy heads under your chin as you rock them. She also writes of being a wife, of learning that people change and that the man you marry will not stay the same person, but that you will sacrifice your love and life to him, all the while praying thanks to God for the comforts he brings, be it only a Maytag washer.

In the prologue of Poisonwood, Kingsolver thanks her parents for helping her to distinguish between “righteousness and being right.” As the events unfold, and you see the unyielding figure of Nathan Price (the father), who refuses to see the African people for who they are, and you just want to shake him. I see in him some people in my own culture, who make distinctions between those who “are” and those who “aren’t” and forget to see those around them as people who want to be accepted, not changed or judged. Some of the most wonderful people I know, spiritual people, would never step foot in any sort of house of God, while on the other hand, there are those who go to church every week and still fail to do as Jesus did: love one another. This book showed me so many truths about how we fail one another by not just loving and accepting those around us for who they are. Sorry to get preachy, I hope I didn’t get carried away. Just let it be known that I love this book.

Time Traveler’s Wife, by Audrey Neffenegger
Oh, just thinking about Time Traveler’s wife makes me want to read it again! I finished this book on New Years Day 2004 and promptly turned it over and read it again. I read it every year, and I sob for about the last third of the book. I love the story of Clare and Henry, the time traveler and his true love. I love the ability Neffenegger has to switch between the narration of Clare versus Henry: they have such distinctive voices, each telling their tale in their own way.

This is a book that I cannot recommend to just anyone. I have to know that they will be able to handle the subject matter, which is extremely sexual, but not in a way that makes it a trashy romance novel. It is just how the book is; to have not made it that way would have been untrue to the characters in the book. Sex is a part of life, and for good or bad, most people don’t wait until they are married to have it. I have heard of many people who have not been able to get past this aspect of the novel, and therefore haven’t finished it. I don’t criticize these people, you are who you are, but for me, I would have missed out on something that I really love had I stopped due to its graphic nature. The beauty, the longing in the book is so real. There are very few novels where you can really FEEL the love that the people have for one another the way you can with Time Traveler’s Wife.


Ok, I could probably go on and on like this for many more pages, but I think that I have gone on long enough. I am so grateful that I live here in the United States where I can read whatever I want. I don’t know what my life would be like without books; they have been such an integral part of me for as long as I can remember. When I don’t have a good book (or two or seven) on my nightstand waiting be read, I feel incomplete. I am who I am in so many ways because of books. So thanks for letting me go on my personal rant about my most loved books. I’m embarrassed to say how many times while writing this tears have came to my eyes as I think of the scenes I was describing. I leave with a quote from the prologue of Time Traveler’s Wife:

And Clare, always Clare. Clare in the morning, sleepy and crumple-faced. Clare with her arms plunging into the papermaking vat, pulling up the mold and shaking it so, and so, to meld the fibers. Clare reading, with her hair hanging over the back of the chair, massaging balm into her cracked red hands before bed. Clare's low voice is in my ear often.

I hate to be where she is not, when she is not. And yet, I am always going, and she cannot follow.

Eclipse

*****Possible Spoilers, read at your own risk!*****

I finally finished Eclipse this morning. I’m so sad to say that it wasn’t my favorite book ever, or even my favorite book of the series (for that, I have to vote for Twilight). My biggest thing was that to me, the first, oh, 400 pages were almost unnecessary. I can’t really remember what happened during them, only that I was anxious for what I’ve come to expect from a Bella/Edward/Jacob book to come through (can’t say that it ever did!). I have to agree with other reviews that I’ve read and say that Edward just wasn’t himself in this book. What man, even if he were 100 years old, would act that selfless? What happened to that sexy, funny, dangerous creature that Edward began as? His love for Bella really annoys me. She can do whatever she wants to him and he takes it, wearing his guilt of leaving her in New Moon around like a hair shirt, spouting how he won’t hurt her again, hauling her around like a 2 year old. It all just seemed so contrived: I didn’t feel like there was a story that Meyer was dying to tell, as she had in Twilight and New Moon.

There were some parts that I liked. I liked the distinction that she developed between Edward and Jacob, cold and hot. Jacob had far more spunk in this book than either of the other two combined. He was the only real one, and yet you even have him fawning over Bella all the time. I just liked that he did what he wanted: he thought mean things to torture Edward, he kissed Bella when she didn’t want him to, he showed up at the party uninvited, he gave Bella some guff when she told him her decision to stay with Edward. If not for Jacob, I doubt I would have finished the book. I could FEEL Jacob’s love for Bella; I couldn’t feel anything from Bella or Edward. They were as flat as pancakes for the duration of the novel. Alice even bugged me; she came off as more of a caricature of herself, using her future-vision left, right and center while planning which shoes would go best with Bella’s new dress. Even Rosalie was more real than that.

This makes me sad. I still can remember the breathlessness I felt when reading Twilight; when Edward would kiss Bella, my heart went a little swoopy in my chest. I read both Twilight & New Moon in a matter of days, and I was eager for more when I finished them. I didn’t feel much swoop this time round. The novels have always been very character driven, but there were events in them that were interesting and allowed them to develop. The events (graduation, Alice’s party, even the Volturi’s visit) in Eclipse were almost incidental. I felt like I could see the ropes & pulleys that drove the novel forward; there wasn’t enough interesting action to mask all the devices.

I wish that this review wasn’t so negative, but I’m just not impressed. I wonder if Stephenie Meyer has lost sight of the books that she intended to write & has given in to what her publisher et al insist that she write. It disappoints me, because I never imagined that happening. So much for MY future-vision, eh?

How can he be 6?

Today is Thomas’ sixth birthday! He has grown up in so many ways over this past year. This birthday is a lot more emotional for me for some reason. I keep thinking about how much time has passed since they first him in my arms as a baby. I just love him so much!

So to celebrate his birthday, I asked him last night what he would like to eat. He promptly answered, “Hamburger Helper.” Ooookay, that took me by surprise, but it's his day, so whatever. I made a cake last night while Shane wrapped his present (he is far better at wrapping & far more willing, so I let him without any regrets!). We ate the aforementioned Hamburger Helper (three cheese, if you really want to know!) with some broccoli, and finished it off with chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. I even remembered to get candle with a number 6 on it, because he had specifically asked for one.

What a fun little birthday night, with him and Ben playing with his present, a CARS racetrack, where Doc & Lightning McQueen race around a figure 8 race track. They had a ball! I can’t bring myself to do a kid birthday party this year, so we’ll do the Grandma & Grandpa birthday barbeque on Sunday, and that will have to be enough.

What a great kid! I am so glad that he allowed me to be his mom. Happy Birthday, Thomas!

Is this normal?

I have a confession to make. I love my OB/GYN. Seriously, he is the greatest man ever. I even named Ben after him (Ben’s middle name is Scott, which is my doctor’s first name). Yesterday I went to visit Scott (I’ll leave his last name out, don’t want to put to much info out there!) for that fun visit us girls get to have. I was so excited and yet sad to walk into the office; the last time I went there, I was there for my post-partum visit after I had Ben. I love being pregnant, love to go to my doctor visits, and so to visit that office, knowing I was only going for “that” kind of visit tore at my heart. I willingly waited for the doctor to return from delivering a baby, knowing that it had taken me 2 ½ years to finally come back, and that the likelihood of me stealing away at a later date was slim to none.

I happily waived at Scott, who was sitting in his office, on my way to the examination room. When he came in to see me, he gave me a hug and told me he loved me (seriously!) and I told him back. He asked about me, and how I am, how my life with Shane and the boys is, and just talked and listened with such an air of caring that I felt completely at home (amazing, given the fact I was only wearing paper!). He told me what a good guy he thinks Shane is, and went on to ask what we have been doing this summer, filling me in on bits of his life and interests. He even remembered me as having insurance issues (long, long story, for another day!) and made sure that my insurance would cover the visit, offering to only charge me for the labs if the visit wasn’t covered. Seriously! He didn’t even ask me the dreaded question, the question I thought would be his first, the question that is the eternal question in my life: “So, when are you going to have another baby?” It didn’t come up until late in the visit, and then it was so that I could answer without much emotional anguish.

I’m not sure that this reaction to a gyn visit is normal, but it was what I got to experience yesterday. The love and warmth I felt from this visit left me feeling so comforted, so blessed to have a doctor who cares so much for his patients. I left feeling lighthearted, and a bit sad that I wouldn’t see him for another year (I really shouldn’t let those things go, I resolve to go each year from now on!)

Book: Season of the Witch, by Natasha Mostert

Book: Season of the Witch, by Natasha Mostert

When Shane and I were dating, we finished almost evening out at the Barnes and Noble, browsing through books. I am happy to say that this tradition has continued. Since we are not blessed with lots and lots of willing babysitters just waiting for us to go on a date, these nights only happen a few times a year, so I use them to get ideas for reading for the next few months. I always find a pen and a copy of the current Discover Great New Writers brochure and I begin my search. I rarely buy any books, but make note of the name & author and then put them on my list of books on the county library website. This past July Season of the Witch by Natasha Mostert caught my attention. I was pleased to see when I placed a hold for the book that it had multiple copies of the book AND that all of them were currently checked out. There weren’t too many copies, but enough that I didn’t have to wait too long.

The premise of the book is this: Gabriel is an information thief, who can also use telepathic skills to read the minds of others, called in the book “remote viewing.” His talents have been used in the past to find victims of crimes, so when an ex-girlfriend’s stepson (Robert) disappears mysteriously, she asks Gabriel to use his ability to find Robert. Gabriel is able to view Robert’s last moments of life, where a beautiful but masked woman guides him through a house with millions of doors, and then, when he fails to keep the correct order of the doors, the woman drowns him. Gabriel is able to meet both the woman in the memory and her sister, but he is unable to determine which sister is the killer. Using techno-savvy methods, he hacks into the sisters’ computer, and reads a daily diary of one of the women. He falls in love with the writer, but is unable to determine who she is, but knows that the writer is not the killer through clues that she leaves in her writings. Meanwhile, his fascination with the sisters in real life grows as he spends more and more time with them, and he loses his focus of trying to find Robert’s killer in favor of discovering the author of the diary. The danger (and excitement) grows when Gabriel discovers that one of the sisters is also a remote viewer; however, her talent includes the ability to harm those minds that she reads, and Gabriel finds himself, his friends, and the sister that he loves at her mercy.

Using principles alchemy, magic, and witchcraft, Season of the Witch is an interesting read. I thought that the author could have gone more into depth with many aspects of the book, and what should have been the climax of the book was rather more of an anticlimax. Her strengths were in describing the sisters, their similarities and differences, and producing a mental tennis match of trying to discover who was the writer and who was the killer. I loved reading the diary entries; the writers voice was witty, yet mysterious, and each entry ended the same, with the words “I must meditate on my name.” It reminded me a bit of Eragon, where the power of knowing another’s true name gave you power over them. It was, though, entertaining and didn’t require too much thought to keep up with the story. I kept thinking that some devices that she used were too tenuous to be believable, or just completely unnecessary. But, to be fair to the book, I think for me any book I read for the next bit will be overshadowed by Harry Potter and the emotional let-down of that series being over. If I were to rate this book, it would be a 6.5 or a 7. Not one that I would buy, or read again, but it entertained all the same.

So, I know its been a long time. I keep thinking, I should write about that on my blog, but then it doesn't happen. But, I saw this on Amy's blog, and it looked fun. So, here goes:

Yourself: Grateful I got to run tonight. I am going to have bunion surgery (yikes, that makes me sound like an 80 year old woman! Dang those genes!) on the 29th, so fall running will be completely out of the picture this year. Sigh, I love to run in the fall. In my relatively new neighborhood, there are few trees, but one section of the street has these trees that arch way over the sidewalk, close enough that I have to duck to run under them. I love these trees in the fall. I run in the early evening, so the fading light catches them just so. Ah, just writing about it makes me sad I will miss out.
Your partner: Hanging out with Ben, who refuses to sleep on days after he's been at the babysitter. I can't believe a two year old can be so stuborn.
Your hair: Yeah, ponytailing it again. I did it yesterday, though! First time in a week.
Your mother: At bridge?
Your father: Watching tv, thank heaven football is starting, he will have something to do. Sigh...
Your favorite item: Not sure.
Your dream last night: Don't remember
Your favorite drink: should say water, but it's Dr Pepper
Your dream car: A BMW. Dark blue. Not sure I will ever get one.
Your dream home: something with an entry way and a big staircase. would love a big bathroom with the works: double sinks, space behind mirrors to put bathroom items, big tub & separate shower. Oh, and a walk in closet.
The room you are in now: not really a room, unfinished basement
Your fear: Losing my loved ones.
Where you want to be in 10 yrs: More time with kids, to be content
Who you hung out with last night: Shane and the boys at the park.
You're not: a morning person
Wish list item: not to have to work
Last thing you did: Made lunch for tomorrow
What are you wearing: running shorts & a t-shirt
Favorite weather: When the wind isn't blowing (a miricle in West Jordan, I think!)
Favorite book: Only one? Can't do it.
Last thing you ate: Hamburger helper, brocolli, chocolate cake with whipped cream (not a fan of frosting)
Your life: Pretty good, don't have a lot of complaints
Your mood: normal
Your best friend: See the favorite book answer.
What are you thinking about right now: getting in bed (yes, with a two year old in attendance, fun times!)
Your car: Nissan Exterra
What are you are doing at this moment: typing this!
Relationship status: married with children
What's on TV: don't know
Last time you laughed: today at work