The Beauty of Eclecticism

Stopping By Quickly on a Quiet Morning

2012-03-07T14:50:00.000-05:00

(with apologies to Robert Frost)

Oh, I've been too long absent from Wondrous Words Wednesdays! An absolutely delightful meme, that fell by the wayside, I'm afraid, in the midst of my life's craziness, and I am determined to return to it faithfully, with renewed verve. Today's post is just a brief pit stop, with only one interesting word to share, but there will be MANY others next week, as those of you who've read my "Word" posts in times past can attest. This week, I have the following for you.

-obloquy--Did you even know that English HAD a one-word term for verbal abuse, and for the attendant state of shame in which its long-term sufferers must live? Neither did I until yesterday. I encountered this one in The Coming of the Third Reich by Richard J. Evans, so I don't think it requires much imagination to figure out where he was going with that one, who the perpetrators or the victims of said abuse were. It's a fascinating book, if very somber.

Anyway, happy word spelunking, fellow readers!

Rippling Along

2012-03-07T14:36:00.000-05:00

Greetings, one and all! After a hiatus last week involving a sick SuperToddler and a bedraggled, worn-out mommy, I have returned to Yarn Along, flush with success in my fortnight's endeavor to keep my Blueberry Ripple Afghan growing. A piece like this isn't just a project, of course--it's a commitment. When you undertake an afghan like this, you know you're in for a bit of a long haul. But, it's growing by leaps and bounds, and I'm enjoying it very much. Would you like to see it? Well, obviously you would; that's the whole point! So...

TA-DA! A bouncing baby Blueberry Ripple Afghan! Hurray! I'd say it's just about 3/5 completed at this point. As a matter of fact, since its intended purpose is to allow me to snuggle up beneath it, and it currently covers me from hanging just below my feet to the top of my abdomen, I'd call that an extremely accurate measurment of its progress! Now then, let's give this beauty a close-up, Mr. Demille.

What do you think, gang? I'm quite pleased overall, so much so that I've decided to make another in a different colorway when I finish this one as a gift (which means you won't get to see that one until after the gift is presented to its intended owner, but eventually there will be pictures and much rejoicing here on Yarn Along, I promise).

Oops! I almost forgot the READING bit of this exercise, which would have been a shame, since I've finished FOUR books in the past week!! I'm reading three books currently, because I'm just a compulsive simultaneous-multiple reader (I've finally embraced this fact about myself), but probably the most fascinating is The Coming of the Third Reich by Richard J. Evans.

This book certainly isn't a light-weight--over 650 pages, and although that includes probably 150 pages of endnotes, bibliography and index, Goodreads counts all of it in my "pages read" count for the year! I must confess that pleases me, even if the confession indicates some major flaw in my character. When I checked this book out from the library, the lady who checked it out to me said, "A bit of light reading, huh?" And she's right; this one is certainly not many laughs. But it's certainly enthralling; I always wondered how all that lunacy got started, and now I'm finally finding out. It's not written for scholars or experts, either; if you're interested in the subject, I can recommend this one so far.

Anyway, that's the past two weeks in review. Hope you're having satisfying times with book, hook, and/or needles!

February Medieval Summary

2012-03-07T13:57:00.001-05:00

"And God bless us, every one."

Giving whole new meaning to the phrase "better LATE than never," I am finally posting the February update for the 2012 Medieval Challenge. My apologies, gang. If I can ever manage to get all three members of this household healthy at the same time, and keep it that way for more than two weeks, these kinds of delays will hopefully become a thing of the past.

Anyway, on with the show. I DID actually manage to read a medieval volume in the month of February, that fascinating (if bizarre), rip-roaring Arthurian adventure, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (click for my review). Of course, this means that I have eliminated the tiniest little work on my medieval TO DO list first, and only that one so far, while I've been rapidly whittling away at most of my other reading challenges. This sort of behavior cannot be allowed to continue, because we all know where it would lead--all other challenges finished by June and six months of unrelieved medievalism stretching out before me. So, I must tackle one of the weightier tomes in May. I think I'll make it The Alexiad, a book I've owned for years and never yet attempted.

In the meantime, keep us up to date on how your medieval triumphs are mounting! Did you surpass your own expectations? Are you sinking in the slough of Despond? We want to hear all about it.

The Penguin Did It

2012-03-06T02:10:00.001-05:00

Oy vay! It's been crazy around here for the past week or so. It turns out that Brigid's run of SuperTerribleTwos was actually just the build up to her getting sick. I should have known; she's often a willful child with a mind of her own, but her whole life, she has never just been impossible unless something was genuinely wrong. She usually obeys me, even if she doesn't like it, and she's normally fairly easy to please. Last week, she was just simply IMPOSSIBLE, and exhausting. Like I said, I should've recognized the signs.

Photo courtesy of The Respiratory Store

You really haven't lived until you've tried to coax and soothe a SuperToddler through having something like this over her nose and mouth for about fifteen minutes at a time several times a day. I know this thing looks terrifying, but we're actually quite lucky that there doesn't seem to be any infection--ears, sinuses, throat all fine. Whatever this crud is, though, it goes straight to the lungs, like it did to me, and since they can't very well give a toddler an albuterol inhaler for a few days, we get the nebulizer, instead, to bust the stuff up and free her lungs again. She is, slowly, getting better.

Meanwhile, just take a look at this adorable little guy, generously provided by our health insurance (they typically take much better care of kids than they do adults, don't you think?).

Photo courtesy of Medquip

As Sally says so often about Linus (remember Peanuts? Charlie Brown and Snoopy?), "Isn't he the cutest thing?!" He even comes with his own little igloo carrying case! Brigid immediately decided that igloo had to be part of her toy collection. Anyway, inside his little tuxedo-clad body is the compressor and other innards that actually make the nebulizer function. The SuperToddler may not be an enormous fan of the process, but she just thinks the penguin is the greatest thing to come into her life in ages. I know I'm turning into my own grandparents before my very eyes even saying this, but don't they just think of the most amazing things these days?! The same company sells pediatric nebulizers in the shape of fire trucks and panda bears and heaven knows what else. Between worrying about the SuperToddler's health and the fact that I haven't had a break for three weeks because of complications in my in-laws' lives that prevented Brigid from going to Grandma's house, I am just simply exhausted and my brain has the consistency of jello, but somehow, that penguin's cheerful face really has made the whole thing just a tiny bit more bearable, I must admit.

"Isn't he the cutest thing?"

MEANWHILE, the more wearying my life gets, the more I tend to read anytime I get the chance, to escape the chaos for a while, which means that in the past month I have been on an absolute, non-stop reading binge, an orgy of reading, as it were. I am SOOOOOOOOOOOO far behind on reviews now that I am seriously considering declaring general amnesty for myself and just trying to keep up from here on out. Thoughts on the matter, anyone? Leave them in the comments, if you have any. Seriously, I'm about a dozen reviews behind now. It's getting ridiculous. Still, I want to try and post them. We'll see what develops. The siren song of crochet is calling my name now, and I'm within a few pages of FINALLY finding out the solution to a Lord Peter Wimsey mystery. Keep watching this space!

No "Blah" Like the Present, and a Resulting Review

2012-02-24T23:31:00.002-05:00

I am suffering from the "blah"s after a long, exhausting day of SuperToddler SuperTerribleTwos. To be perfectly honest, trying to catch up on my enormous backlog of book reviews doesn't sound like the most exciting way to overcome these Mommy Blues, but there it is--some people feel compelled to eat chocolate, I get overwhelming drives to write. Notice I didn't say "an overwhelming DESIRE to write". Sometimes, I write even when I really don't want to. It's like my brain gets taken over by little hobgoblins with quills and parchment in their hands or something, and I simply must write.

So, what say we review one of those books that I've been putting off too long while the goblins are hammering away in my head?

A Review of the Medieval Poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, composed by some unknown medieval Englishman who thought that King Arthur, if he ever existed, was a fellow Englishman, instead of a Welsh Celt, by JNCL

Okay, confession time (and a bit of a mini-spoiler, but only a very little one). For years, whenever I heard the title of this book, I always assumed that the phrase "green knight" refered to the coat of arms of the knight in question. I thought his shield must be predominantly green, and thus his tunic and his horse's caparison would be, as well. "Huh?" Right. Let me give you a picture of a "caparison," so you'll know what the Hell I'm talking about.

See how the horse is completely covered in a draping cloth that has his rider's coat of arms worked on it? That's a caparison. (Triple word score with this picture, actually, because it also shows you what a coat of arms is, and how both horse and knight wore pictures of the arms into battle, or at least, into tournaments.) Now you can see why I used to think that the knight was just called "green" because he was probably wearing a lot of green, and would just have appeared green all over. NOPE. I was wrong. The knight who ends up challenging the brave Sir Gawain to a duel of sorts is ACTUALLY GREEN. Green as lettuce. His hair is green. His beard is green. His skin, and his horse's skin, are green. Completely green horse, mane, tail and all.

This medieval romance has many of the expected elements of the French, courtly, chivalric romances, clearly reflecting the Anglo-Norman society that developed in England after the Norman Conquest and its obsession with Arthurian legends. The primary enjoyment I get out of reading books like this is what they reveal about the culture that produced them. I find it fascinating to discover what such a culture's ideals were, what they thought SHOULD HAVE mattered to them, and even more fun to find out what ACTUALLY mattered to them instead! There are more column inches of text devoted to butchering fresh hunting kills in this book than to any other single subject, despite all the talk of Marian religious devotion and chivalric knightly behavior. Sir Gawain might be brave, bold and virtuous, but it's clear that the poet is REALLY impressed by the guy who brings home the venison.

Anyway, if you like Arthurian romance, you should definitely look up this one. And if you want to make both seem even much funnier, read this book and then immediately afterwards watch "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." You may need an oxygen mask to help you recover!

Blueberry Ripple

2012-02-22T06:42:00.002-05:00

Hurray! Another installment of my favorite yarn craft memes, and a chance to show you my latest exciting crochet adventure. First off, I would like to announce the completion of yet another of my baby blankets for charity. My sweet Brigid the SuperToddler had to come and feel it, inspect the work, try to identify all the colors this evening as I was putting on the finishing touches, and she seemed to give it the ToddlerHousekeeping seal of approval, so hopefully some new little one will find it fascinating and comforting.

The famous Christmas Blanket is still her favorite.

However, my photo this week features a project that is very dear to my heart, that I jumped into late last week to give myself some variety, so I wouldn't get bored with the baby blankets. I had tried a "ripple" or "chevron" pattern once before about 5 years ago, with dismal results, but after seeing them on several people's Yarn Along posts, I decided I just had to try again. I don't like letting my yarning efforts defeat me if I can possibly help it. Naturally, what color would I use for an afghan I'm making for myself, especially one which has become a personal challenge for me? BLUE, of course, and those who know me personally are all shaking their heads and asking themselves if I EVER get weary of all blue, all the time, knowing all the while that my answer is, "How could anyone ever get tired of blue?!"

ANYWAY, I actually finished the book in this photo just a few minutes before I snapped the picture, but since I haven't started another one yet, I figured I'd include it, especially since these two items together were a large part of my life for the past week. Hope your reading and yarning have been equally satisfying!

P.S. I forgot to give credit where credit is due for the pattern I'm using for the ripple blanket. Thank you, Attic24!

Review of "Mansfield Park"

2012-02-16T03:02:00.000-05:00

Mansfield Park

by Jane Austen

Yes! I finally read this book, and now have only Northanger Abbey to go before I can officially say that I have read the entire Jane Austen "Sacred Six"! It's funny, I've actually read a bit of her juvenalia, but still haven't finished the "canon" yet. I'm quite surprised at myself about it, really.

You know, the more I read Jane Austen, the more I decide that she only crafted one plot, and kept writing it over and over, improving it each time, in each novel in which she used it. The most amazing part of the whole enterprise is that she manages to keep me glued to the page EVERY TIME!

It's not actually the same plot, of course; it's a formula of re-arranging certain required elements into different patterns, and it is that very quality that allowed Austen to DEFINE the "comedy of manners". Someone will behave in an absolutely infamous way when judged by the standards of the time. At least one, and usually two people will be so impossibly stupid and annoying that the reader cringes every time that character appears on the page. At least one main character is impossibly good, usually the heroine, though not always. The one redeeming factor of this aspect is the fact that Austen uses it as a sort of quiet rebellion; though she never actually says so, she makes it clear to the audience that the snarls to happiness would have gotten untangled much quicker if that character hadn't been such a paragon of the virtues of Jane Austen's time.

So, it goes without saying that this book was that novel again, and that like all the others, this one had its own twist, its own take on the themes. Nothing remains to give you but spoilers and my own opinion, and as I'm diametrically opposed to all spoilers, I'll just say that I enjoyed it, I always enjoy them, even though I'd sometimes be hard-pressed to outline exactly why. Jane Austen was an absolute genius; what else is there to be said?

Review of "Pytheas"

2012-02-16T02:36:00.000-05:00

And now I attempt the monumental task of catching up on my review back-log. Wish me luck, everybody!

The Extraordinary Voyage of Pytheas the Greek

by Barry Cunliffe

Have you ever read a book that was interesting and actually quite dull simultaneously?! Neither had I, until I read this one, and don't ask me how it managed such a thing, because I'm still puzzling over it. I only know it's the case.

The story of this non-fiction work in a nutshell: in the mists of time B.C., a Greek scholar named Pytheas set off to explore the seas beyond his own Mediterranean, which was quite a daring project at a time when the entire world seemed to lay on the inner side of the Straits of Gibraltar. He kept a record of his adventures, and from the best guesses of modern academics, he made it as far as Britain and maybe even Iceland. The only draw back is that his own written account is no longer extant; we only know anything about Pytheas through quotes from other, later Greco-Roman authors.

This snag is where we hit the first rocky shoals of boredom. If the original book were intact and available to us, scholars like Barry Cunliffe could do what scholars often do with texts like that--insult our intelligence a bit by assuming that we'll never read the original or wouldn't understand it if we did, but in the process create a shorter, more entertaining recap of the original that WOULD, after all, save us the bother of having to read it. Since that's not possible here, however, what Cunliffe must do instead is craft a long-winded introduction to the world from which Pytheas came, the identities of the men who quoted him, and finally, what guesses we can make about where exactly he traveled and when, based on the clues contained in these second- and sometimes third-hand accounts.

The book manages to be interesting AND boring in that many of the individual facts are truly fascinating--for example, did you know that the "French" city of Marseilles was founded as an ancient Greek colony on the shores of what was then a very fractured landscape full of Frankish and other tribes?! I certainly didn't--yet those interesting facts never coalesce into a solid, interesting BOOK. It's a shame, really. I wanted to enjoy this more than I did. If you're really interested in some of the elements of the tale, like ancient Greek trade, the earliest existing accounts of ancient Britain, or tales of intrepid explorers from every era, then it's worth it to go ahead and wade through this one. If not, I really suggest you stick to lighter fare.

Boy, Have I Been Yarning Along!

2012-02-15T17:27:00.000-05:00

Well, gang, having nearly finished my diabetic education classes and nearly recovered from the plague, I am finally back, and I have certainly missed you all! While I was bed-ridden (well, recliner-ridden) with bronchitis, and blessed that my Good Man husband was home to take care of the SuperToddler, I have been crocheting like some kind of machine and tearing through books at an alarming rate. I didn't have the energy to do anything else, but especially once the cabin fever set in, I had to do something to occupy my time! I tried a bit of knitting, as well, but let me just say from experience, when you're really sick is not the best time to try and practice a new skill. I quickly went back to what I know best.

As you can see, the result was certainly substantial! I now have three finished baby blankets for the local charity, and am about 1/3 of the way through a fourth. Now that I've done a few of them, I understand even better why my mother always enjoyed making these so much, and her insistence that they work up really quickly. My first one was rather a long slog, but I've gotten much faster at it by now. Next big project--crocheting a new set of cotton dishcloths for my wonderful mother-in-law's birthday (good thing she's not a big fan of surfing the internet, so she doesn't really read my blog). It's good to be back from the undead!

Too Sick to Blog?!

2012-02-12T18:05:00.001-05:00

That's when you officially know you're too sick, my friends. Yes, I am still alive, and no, I haven't abandoned you, my beloved little blog and my loyal band of readers. One of you actually sent the posse out after me this week to be sure I wasn't dead, after my 6th day of non-posting! It's nice to know you guys care; it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

And believe me, I needed a little warm fuzzy or two to cheer me up, because I've been fighting bronchitis for a week! Asthmatic bronchitis, to be exact; in case you're wondering what the hell the difference is, the asthmatic kind actually doesn't mean you have asthma. It means you've been exposed to too many things like this, and your lungs can't keep up any more.

Photo by Guerin Nicolas

Photo by Dave Sceflo

At least, that's what it means in my case. It's not the first time this has happened to me over the years--my allergies are of the particularly vicious variety--and whenever it does, then my lungs get to spend a little quality time with one of THESE little devils, a "fast-acting" or "rescue inhaler". If you've never encountered one, you're a lucky little thing. If, unlike me, you have to use one on a regular basis for the rest of your life because you have REAL asthma, then you have all my sympathies.

Photo by James Heilman, M.D.

Fear not. With a cocktail of drugs that leaves my body completely baffled and kind of hyperactive, I am recovering, and more importantly, I have not been idle in my time away. I have been devouring books like a bibliofiend (did I just invent a new word?), because after all, what else is there to do when you're that sick? And my little family discovered that every cloud really does have a silver lining--at least, Brigid the SuperToddler and I did. With Good Man Michael currently laid off, he was able to take care of us. What HE discovered out of the experience is that being a full-time mom is a damn lot of hard work. Welcome to my life!

Anyway, if you've been checking in on this blog at all to see if I had yet surfaced from the Black Hole of Calcutta, and if you've taken a glance at my challenges sidebar on the left, you've probably noticed that I've been one busy little invalid. In the days ahead, you will be bombarded with reviews, as I'm very behind on them by now. What am I up to now? Five? Six books waiting to be reviewed? I've honestly lost count, but we'll plow through them together this week, in between the joy of returning to my favorite memes, I promise. And just think? Another new episode of Downton Abbey tonight! Could this week look any more exciting?!

Hunger in Appalachia

2012-02-01T13:05:00.000-05:00

Welcome to Chapter 3 in the Hunger Games Read Along!

Before we dive into the chapter itself, a little backstory on me as the reader: This is the first time I've read this book, and the first time in a while that I'm jumping back into the world of YA literature. Honestly, I sort of withdrew reflexively from the YA genre when Harry Potter came to an end, mourning for the passing of an extraordinary era. Of course, The Hunger Games has reminded me that good writing and the fascinations of the human imagination march calmly on. It's good to be back to the YA shelves.

I had not yet begun reading this book when I chose to post on chapter 3, so it is pure coincidence that the blogger who picked chapter 3 is from a long line of Appalachian dwellers. Many of the influences molded together in this story are apparent early on--the literature of a post-nuclear-apocalypse America, the gladiatorial games of ancient Rome. Indeed, Rome is a particularly strong motif, since one great city derives all the benefits of empire from the rest of the continent. But it is not until chapter 3 that we learn WHERE District 12, home of our heroine, Katniss Everdeen, is located within the former United States. Katniss is a mountain dweller, from the coal mines of Appalachia.

In many ways, Katniss' home in the future bears striking similarities to Appalachia both past and present. When Europeans first settled in that region, most of them were Scots-Irish immigrants fleeing forced evacuations, famine, politico-religious wars and bigotted attitudes. They came from the "Emerald Isle" and the Scottish Highlands, and when they reached the American shores, they settled in places that looked like home.

Maggie Valley, North Carolina
Photo by Bms4880

Considering everything they had experienced and were fleeing from, it is hardly surprising that they tended to defend their newly claimed land at the point of a firearm if any stranger came to call. They wanted to maintain their customs and traditions, they wanted to live free, and they wanted to remain largely isolated from the rest of the nation. Unfortunately, they got what they wished for in ways that were economically crushing. The discovery of coal in their mountains seemed the natural escape from poverty, as the rest of the nation was clamoring for the stuff and Appalachia certainly had it. Too late did the locals discover that they and the land would suffer a similar, horrible fate. No mining technique was too intrusive, too destructive, for the mining companies, even if it meant poisoning the water and lopping off entire mountain tops. The miners themselves were placed into mining camps, where the only provisions were sold by the mining company in the famous "company store," at such a steep profit that locals were soon having to buy on credit. In debt to their own employees, they were all but indentured servants. Their lives were hungry, harsh, dangerous and often short. If a cave-in didn't get them, a new phrase they had learned was always waiting--Black Lung, the fine layer of coal dust, poured into their chests during years of working the mines, on which they would eventually suffocate.

The final indignity began when the coal became too difficult, too cost ineffective, to reach. As Katniss points out, further mining would have to wait for future technologies, because the veins near the surface were soon exhausted, and humans would now have to dig much deeper in order to reap Appalachia's resources. When the mining companies retreated, they left Appalachian dwellers with far less arable land, contaminated water supplies, no jobs, and no source of income other than government aid. Today, many still live in crushing poverty in Appalachia, after powering the American industrialization for decades. There is little in the region except destitute people trying to find a reason to hope, particularly in Appalachian Kentucky, which my family left during the Depression in search of jobs and some stability. Despite its dystopian and science fiction overtones, The Hunger Games depicts an Appalachia not much changed by the future.

January Medieval Summary

2012-02-01T02:14:00.000-05:00

Where did I go? Has anybody seen me? I'm sure I was here just a second ago!

No, seriously, I've been a bit absent this week, and a little less active in blogging for a while now than I had been before the New Year. There's a reason for that, which I now feel prepared to divulge. I've been taking on a new challenge--over a year after being diagnosed with diabetes, I'm attending diabetic education classes and beginning the long slog toward getting my disease tightly under control, in order to live as long and healthily as I can.

International Diabetes Federation

What with frequent blood testing, constant thought about what and when to eat, counting carbs until I see grams and ounces in my sleep, and generally dealing with the emotional repercussions of a serious diagnosis that I've been denying to myself for months, spare mental and emotional resources have been running a bit low. Even some of my favorite weekly memes have slipped through the cracks recently, and I have decided that something has to give.

Though it saddens me, I've decided to suspend my monthly "Read Your OWN Library!" Challenge for the time being, so that I can focus on other blogging commitments for a while. I want to reconnect with friends at some memes, definitely wish to concentrate on my Medieval Reading Challenge for this year, and have a couple of upcoming guest posts I am very excited about. I want to make sure I don't spread myself too thinly, so that I can keep being fully engaged in everything I am doing. For all those of you who have been doing the RYOL Challenge with me, thank you so much, and hopefully we will be back in the future. You're a small group, and people I've come to count as genuine blogging friends. Thanks for your understanding and support.

Moving on to the Challenge at hand--can you believe that January is over already?! Those who are joining me in the Medieval Reading Challenge this year, how has the effort gone for you so far? Did you dive in as soon as 2012 began, eager to bring Medieval tomes to life again? I must admit, with everything that has been happening, my reading life generally got off to a sluggish start this month, and though I'm back in fine form now, the Middle Ages haven't worked their way in yet. I hope for much better things in February; after all, I've got 12 of them to get through! I'd better get a move on. Whether you're reporting triumph or disgrace, however, we still want to hear from each of you. Give us a post summarizing your first month's efforts, and link here with the linky below. Good luck to us all as we begin the month of February!

Circling Along

2012-02-01T01:06:00.001-05:00

Another week gone already, and my goodness, hasn't it been a week of yarn crafting?! Well, it has for me, anyway. Friday I attended my first monthly meeting of my new church's prayer shawl circle; since I didn't yet have their pattern, I just took along some yarn for a new baby blanket I've been wanting to start and got crocheting on it while I got to know everybody a little. So, two crochet baby blankets in two different colorways going at once right now, and one of them is almost finished.

The big victory this week, however, was that I cast on a new project onto my newly-acquired CIRCULAR NEEDLES! Are we so proud? Because I am. Yes, after five years of scheming, dreaming, and several disastrous failed attempts, I am finally making some headway on the Ravenclaw house scarf I have dreamed of knitting. Indeed, it was my ambition to make this scarf that drove me to learn to knit in the first place! It's slow going, obviously, since I'm a very new knitter. Even the halting rhythm I have slowly begun to build up with regular needles still hasn't developed yet on the circular ones, so it's definitely going to be awhile before it begins to look like a scarf, instead of some kind of yarn covered halo, but still I'm terribly pleased with my progress.

For any Harry Potter fanatic like me who may be wondering (because I would be, if I were you), yes, I will be using the Ravenclaw house colors as described in the BOOKS, blue and the closest I could find to bronze, rather than the blue and silver of the films. Anything worth doin', etc., you know?

And what have I been reading in the interim since we last met? Nothing less than one of the greatest writers in the history of the English language--yes, I have finally read Jane Austen's Mansfield Park. I feel almost as proud of getting through that thrilling but linguistically challenging tome as if I had written something monumental myself! If you've never read the book, let me just say that while the effort is absolutely worth it, the way that Jane Austen's language twists and writhes in this one may leave you feeling like you're trying to navigate a dense maze without even a breadcrumb trail, let alone a map. Don't give up, but be sure to bring a lot of patience and your best attention with you!

WTF?! Wednesday Rides Again

2012-01-26T03:10:00.001-05:00

WTF Wednesday is an extremely irregular feature on this blog (i.e. there have been a grand total of two thus far). These are infuriating or laughable weirdnesses that life serendipitously sends me, and I figure life wants you to know all about them, too. That life--what a joker!

Just a little something I found in a Barnes and Noble parking lot, and immediately knew I had to share a picture of it with you all. I swear, I never touched it, but if its arrangement is a coincidence, then I'm the newly-crowned winner of the Miss America pageant.

The Finger

See, don't you feel in a better, much snarkier mood already? I just love WTF Wednesdays!

My Oscar

2012-01-26T02:39:00.000-05:00

"You like me! You really"--okay, that'll be quite enough of THAT! Still, it was very exciting to me to receive my first ever blogger award this week! I know some bloggers consider awards of this type a very well-intentioned nuisance, but I am NOT one of those. I suppose, if you've built up a huge following and would probably be getting an award from someone every other day, it would be impossible to deal with, as you're supposed to pass them on. But for my little blog, which is only a few months old and slowly making its way toward 60 followers, this is red-letter day, and it feels wonderful to have someone recognize and enjoy all the hard work I've put into this venture.

Thank you so much, Jean of Finding Your Gibbee, for bestowing upon me the Versatile Blogger award, and now it is my responsibility to make the following public service announcement, after which I will have the joy of passing this award on to a few more bloggers. Hopefully, it will make their day as cheerful as receiving it made mine.

The rules of this award are as follows.

-In a post on your blog, present at least 5 fellow bloggers with the Versatile Blogger Award.

-In the same post, include the Versatile Blogger Award.

-In the same post, thank the blogger who nominated you and link back to his or her blog.

-In the same post, share 7 completely random pieces of information about yourself.

-In the same post, include these rules.

-Inform each new winner of their award by posting a comment on their blog.

My chosen recipients are

1. Howling Frog Books

2. As the Spine Breaks

3. Tiny Library

4. A Strong Belief in Wicker

5. B's Book Blog

And finally, 7 random facts about me, your fascinating hostess.

*Blue has been my favorite color my entire life. I'm really quite obsessive about it, actually.

*I love green cocktail olives, unadulterated with pimento or anything else. All other types of olive I've ever tried tasted disgusting to me.

*I'm a PK. (If you don't know what that means, just thank your lucky stars and go on about your life.)

*With a combined total from kindergarten to graduate work, I was in school for 25 years.

*My mother taught me to crochet, my paternal grandmother taught me embroidery, and I taught myself to knit.

*Thus far, I've been a fire-breathing Pentecostal, a member of the Eastern Orthodox church, and an Episcopalian, and that was just the first 34 years. Imagine what I may get up to before I die!

*I'm an armchair Egyptologist. My great ambition is to write a novel about ancient Egypt (because the world just doesn't have enough of those yet, right?)

Bonus Fact:

RAVENCLAW RULES!

Yarning Along--FINALLY!

2012-01-25T03:34:00.000-05:00

LOOK! Look, look, look!

The Christmas afgan is FINALLY finished! ALL finished. Ends woven in and everything. I feel like I just won a Nobel prize for astrophysics or something.

Also, the first baby afghan is coming along nicely.

Even my current choice of reading material leaves me with a sense of pride and accomplishment for several reasons.

1. There ARE far easier things to read than Jane Austen written in the English language.
2. I've been a devoted Austen fan literally for decades. HOW could I have left out not one but TWO of her canon of works until just now? Mea culpa!
3. This book is required by two challenges I'm currently supposed to be finishing. Hopefully I'll get through it before the "deadline".

So, there we are. I hope your week was productive, filled with yarning delight and reading joys.

The Further Adventures of Brigid the SuperToddler

2012-01-21T06:39:00.000-05:00

You know, I figure if I tell you about nothing but my brilliant and adorable child all the time, you'll get bored pretty quickly, so I try not to make Brigid the focus of every post.

HOWEVER, that having been said, it occurs to me that I haven't given you all an updated, in-depth report on the SuperToddler's adventures in quite some time now, and since it's been very adventurous around here lately, there's no time like the present.

My daughter is much prettier than my artistic talents can ever reflect,
but her hair REALLY DOES lead this whole other life of quiet desperation sometimes.

First, the I Know You Won't Believe This, But I'm Going To Tell You, Anyway story. SuperToddler is 2.75 years old. (Yes, she'll soon be a toddler no more, and then I'll have to concoct a whole new nifty handle for her.) I swear to God, I think she's reading on the sly. You see, my two-year-old already recognizes the entire alphabet on sight. No, I don't coach her and then she parrots me. I stand in another room, hear her calling out, "D. E. R. B. Y!" and walk in to find her looking at a board book about horses. I'm not even kidding. Today, she told me all day long to "lisTen" to her, with a very pronounced T. I'll give you a moment. *Jeopardy theme song* Aaaaaaand the penny drops. HOW DOES SHE KNOW THERE'S A 'T' IN THAT WORD?! Exactly. I've been wracking my brain all day. I can only advance the following theory.

On one of her favorite tv shows, Charlie & Lola (I've already turned her into a BBC addict!), there's an episode called, "I am completely listening and also hearing," and they flash the title of each episode up on the screen at the beginning. To my knowledge, this is the ONLY place Brigid has ever seen the word written out, and there is no way to know there's a T in that word just from hearing it pronounced in either British or American English. If anyone has a better theory, I'm totally open to hearing it, because it's starting to creep me out a little.

The big excitement of the past two weeks, though, has been the discovery of an ancient civilization that has been one of MY obsessions for years. Apparently, there's an Egyptology gene, and we have it. Backstory: I have a whole bunch of very intricate coloring books, meant to be colored by freakish grown ups like me that still enjoy a good coloring book, and published by companies like Dover and Bellerophon. Before you even start, NO, these are NOT "adult" coloring books! They're just really detailed designs, like knights in chain mail armor and Elizabethan English fashions. Because of my obsession with all things ancient Egyptian, I have by far more coloring books about Egyptian costume, religion and daily life than I do about anything else. My beloved SuperToddler loves to flip through these, though she knows that somehow they're special and she's not allowed to color in them like she does in her coloring books. She has also entered the non-stop "What's that?" phase, and whenever I answer that question, she repeats what I say again and again until it sticks in her mind. The script goes something like this:

"Mommy! What's that?"
"Those are E-gypt-ians."
"E-GYPT-IANS!"
"That's right! Very good!"

"What's THAT?"
"Those are Egyptians, too."
"E-GYPT-IANS!"
"Yep, that's right!"
"What's THAT?"
"Oh, that's a statue."
"STATUE!"

The child now roams through the house, shouting, "EGYPTIANS!" She comes to me while I'm on the computer doing something and says, "Get up! Egyptians!", which being interpreted means, "I want to get up onto your lap and look at pictures of ancient Egyptian art on Google Images like we did last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, and...". I think the highly stylized lines and bold colors appeal to her. After all, they've held an almost mystical fascination over adults ever since Napoleon's men first rediscovered them in the 18th century, these images. I've just never seen a 2-year-old so enamored with them before!

Queen Nefertari (NOT Nefertiti),
in case you were wondering

I swear to you, I am NOT making any of this up, and today, I got photographic evidence. Remember when I reviewed the beautiful picture book by Demi called simply Tutankhamun? Well, my daughter found that book, and is absolutely in love with it.

See the pyramids? Along the Nile, obviously.

She sits and "reads" it over. And over. AND OVER. Occasionally she asks me, "What's that?" or "Who's that?", but for the most part she just flips through and looks at the pictures, sometimes calling out the names of things as she turns the pages. She now says things like "FINKS!" (which means "sphinx"), and "STATUE!", excited and proud of herself with each new accomplishment. The other day, she identified an image of King Tut's death mask on sight, as we were sifting through pics on Google. I won't make prophecies about her having a brilliant career as an archaeologist ahead of her or anything, but I AM excited at the thought that I'll have a fellow enthusiast with whom to discuss it all someday!

Because Geek Girls Do It Best

2012-01-19T12:53:00.001-05:00

Okay, everybody, I had a mind-bending, life-altering experience a few evenings ago--and no, it's NOT what you're thinking based on the title of this post!--that I just have to share with everyone. Up to this past Tuesday night, I had never bothered to watch any on-the-internet-only "tv" shows. Hell, I don't even watch actual tv unless it's available on Netflix, is a DVD or Blu-Ray that I bought, or can be streamed from PBS. (DOWNTON ABBEY!!!!!!!!!!!!! *Ahem* That is all.)

But Tuesday night, I made a new friend on Twitter, one @geekyjessica. All right, "friend" might be a bit of a stretch, since she's quite a bit more famous/popular in the Geek world than I am and doesn't know me from Adam, "but in this [pseudo-anonymous, internet-driven] world in which we're livin'," Twitter conversations practically equal life-long friendship. I once got a Tweet response from Wil Wheaton, for Heaven's sake! You know? Wil Wheaton? Here, memory refresher. (Sorry, Wil, I know you hate being equated with your character, but they don't recognize you without the uniform. Some of them aren't true Trek believers.)

Photo Courtesy of Memory Alpha

If the name STILL doesn't ring any bells, I'm afraid I can't help you, but I really like you as a person, and we can still be friends. :)

Sorry. Nothing sidetracks me like a Star Trek: The Next Generation (ST:TNG) reference. So anyway, Ms. Jessica Mills, aka @geekyjessica, writes, produces, and co-stars in an internet show called Awkward Embraces, which is SERIOUSLY entertaining and hilarious and maybe the best thing that's ever happened to Geek girls since Ron admitted that he and Harry would die very quick and painful deaths if they didn't have Hermione to bail them out all the time. *Deep breath* Also easily sidetracked by thoughts of Harry Potter. Moving on.

Photo Courtesy of the Berry

Does the fact that I now find most of the cast of Harry Potter extremely hot make me a dirty old woman? *nervously biting nails* Okay, Jennifer! Writing a post here. FOCUS.

SO, Jessica Mills plays, well basically, herself in this show (except that since she WRITES the show, I'm seriously doubting she's as sexually naive as her character). She's a Geek girl--actually, Princess Geek Girl, second only to our beloved Queen Jen of Cake Wrecks--trying to find love and, well, get laid in the 21st century. Not everyone understands her obsession with Star fill-in-the-blank: Star Trek, Star Wars, Stargate, BattleSTAR Galactica. Her two best friends, for example, continually remind her that she's a Geek--as if that's a bad thing!--but they love and support her, anyway, and all we fellow Geeks think her Geekery is a gift to us straight from God, I swear. I watched all of Season 1 and nearly all of Season 2 IN ONE NIGHT, finally succumbing to the inconvenient need to sleep.

Wherefore, I hereby declare that if you are a Geek girl, or if you simply have a sense of humor, you need this show in your life, and having watched one episode, you will be eternally grateful to me for clueing you in about it. I swear. By Grabthar's Hammer. By the Suns of Warvan. You haven't seen Galaxy Quest, either?! Okay, we seriously have to talk about that in ANOTHER post. Meanwhile, you will be hearing more from me about Jessica Mills and Geek girls in general soon. Don't say I didn't warn you.

In the Bleak Mid-Winter Wonder Land

2012-01-18T22:37:00.001-05:00

Look at the package that was delivered to my house today! Isn't it beautiful?! I was every bit as excited as the SuperToddler about the whole thing.

View from our balcony
Photo courtesy of Good Man Michael--Mwah!

After two months of whining about NOT getting any snow, I am finally happy. As far as I am concerned, snow is winter's only justification and raison d'etre. I LOVE winter, but only when it snows. A perfect night to FINALLY finish my "Christmas" afghan!

Brown-Out

2012-01-18T19:25:00.000-05:00

You may have noticed that I've done some temporary re-decorating here on The Beauty of Eclecticism, doing my bit to see SOPA/PIPA defeated for good. If you want to know more about these pieces of legislation, I recommend you visit the SOPA and PIPA Wikipedia pages, which are the only pages accessible during Wikipedia's blackout. While I'm not conducting a true blackout on my site, as you can see--partly because of simple lack of technical know-how, and partly because I'm really behind on some posts and need to catch up--this brown-out is my way of saying that I've had it with the US government thinking it can protect me by inconveniencing me, censoring me, getting into my personal space and strip searching me at airports, wire-tapping my phone and e-mails, and any other piss-poor idea they might try to introduce next. As of this month, we lost our rights to habeus corpus and a speedy trial when a terrifying Legislature sent NDAA to the White House and a traitorous President signed it. (Yes, I'm a Democrat. Democratic and Republican politicians both were complicit in this crime against the Constitution.) I'm fed up. Aren't you?

Yarning and Yarning and Yarning Along!

2012-01-18T06:37:00.000-05:00

OMG! Okay, people, after last week's slump, I got the push I needed to get back into yarning WITH A VENGEANCE! I don't mean I got enthusiastic; I mean I crocheted for about 6 hours straight one night. My hands...went numb. Yeah. Not even kidding.

So, why the big explosion of all things Yarn Craft? Well, it was a confluence of several stimuli, actually. First of all, remember I promised last week that I was now going to turn my attentions to my first true knitting project, my lovely scarf? I actually did so early in the week, and though it may not look like much, I was almost giddy with excitement at my little beginner level of progress.

So much so, in fact, that I got ridiculously ambitious and tried to jump straight into the scarf that "started it all," the Harry Potter house scarf that I've been determined to make for almost 10 years. Which has to be knit in the round. Either on circular needles, or double-pointed needles. And the only circular needles I had in the house were waaaaaaay too long. And the only double-pointed ones I had in the house were my husband's bamboo ones. Size 5. And I already knit too tightly. It was a very painful, evening-long fiasco. (Yes, Michal tried knitting once. Get this: he was great at it. He just didn't like it that much. Prefers spinning and weaving. Don't men make you SICK with shit like that?! It's like how they can't cough without losing 30 pounds off their gut, but I can't lose weight anywhere except in my breasts, the one place I would like to KEEP it. Okay. Deep breaths. I feel better now.)

ANYWAY, obviously, that trauma was so great that I really did walk up to Good Man Michael and say, "This incident is dead to us. We shall never speak of it again." True story. I swear. Also obviously, I had to move on to some stellar crochet triumph with a ridiculously easy project IMMEDIATELY to re-boost my spirits and confidence. This is where the second stimulus comes in.

My new church does yarn crafts to give to local charities--baby blankets for teenage mothers at the local high schools particularly caught my eye, so the poorly-taken picture above is a little granny square afghan. It makes me go all dewy eyed every time I think about some sweet little bundle being wrapped in something I made for him or her. Notice the sort of soft, garden-like colorway I chose; I figured, it's suitable for boy or girl, and it's as close to pastels as I'm ever going to get, because I hate most true pastels. Anyway, nothing rebuilds your faith in your own crafting ability like a fall-off-a-log easy granny square. Hurray! I bought enough yarn to make four little blankets, and maybe enough left over for a matching hat to go with a couple of them. I'm pretty excited, I must admit. It feels good to be part of a community again, and I hope my little blankets will let someone who is going through a rough time know that someone out there cares about them.

P.S. I had to go with all acrylic, because it's cheapest, but if anyone wants to help me make blankets for these little ones out of softer, better quality yarn, all yarn donations will be gratefully accepted, and I'm sure the church will be happy to give you documentation for tax deductions and such. If you're interested, let me know. Either way, thanks for dropping by the blog today. :)

The Victor's Mailbox

2012-01-17T02:56:00.002-05:00

To the victor go the spoils, so they say. Thus, my mailbox had a very pleasant week, more than making up for in quality what it may have lacked in quantity.

BOUGHT:

First off, let's talk about the book I bought for myself that finally arrived this week, though it was ordered before Christmas. These are the joys of buying a used book from across the pond; it just takes a long time to get a book sent from the UK to the US when you don't pony up for expedited shipping.

Either way, the book finally arrived in all its glory this week, completing a set I've been determined to own since 2005. I had to wait several years until even used copies of it were within my fiscal reach, especially considering the astronomical exchange rate between the US dollar and the Pound Sterling. Yes, readers, I am finally the proud owner of--well, "a picture is worth" etc.

For any Americans who may be reading this and didn't realize until just now how much better the covers of the British originals are than the American versions, I am truly sorry to have forcibly altered your worldview in such an abrupt fashion. Don't get me wrong; I LOVE the artwork done by Mary GrandPre in our American exemplars, and would consider any edition perfect that was the UK original with the Bloomsbury cover and GrandPre's illustrations inside, but since that's not available, I insist on owning copies of the originals. "NOT ONE WORD HAS BEEN CHANGED," and all that sort of thing. Sorry, got a little worked up. Moving on.

WON:

I was incredibly pleased to receive this week a copy of The Victoria Vanishes, courtesy of a delightful giveaway hosted by Peggy from Peggy Ann's Post. I honestly knew nothing about this book when I signed up for the giveaway, except that I'd been seeing it all over the place and the cover looked almost unbearably intriguing. Naturally, it turns out that it's #6 in a series I don't own the rest of--yet! Oh, drat, a whole new series I'll have to buy. Unfortunate me. Oh, the suffering. HURRAY! Excuse me. Sorry. Got a little worked up again.

Anyway, that was my exciting week, along with obsessively tuning in to every new episode of Downton Abbey and discovering Sherlock and holy sh*t! Where has that show been all my life?! Okay, I've really got to get a handle on this bout of worked-up-outburst I'm suffering from, but it's true--I can't BELIEVE I haven't been watching Sherlock since the very beginning! If you haven't seen it yet, put down your book for an hour (and yes, I realize I'm speaking sacrilege by saying that), flip open Netflix streaming and watch the pilot. You won't be sorry (unless your viewing tastes are TOTALLY different from mine, in which case, I'm sorry in advance). I'll stop rambling now. Happy reading!

5 Minutes on the Dangers of Being Awake

2012-01-13T06:28:00.002-05:00

Awake. Ironic that this should be today's prompt, since at times I feel like I've been unceasingly awake for the past four years or so. Mom's 3:00 a.m. panic attacks, triggered by a body that was shutting down and trying to warn her to fix something that could not be changed. 5:00 a.m. feedings with an infant. Ongoing PTSD, with all the attendant lack of sleep and bizarre bio-rhythms that entails. I wonder how long it will be before awake and asleep function properly for me again.

And yet, in the past few weeks, my husband and I have suddenly awakened, emotionally and spiritually, and it's like a whole new world descended upon this family. He asked me about a week ago, "How did this suddenly happen? Did someone go through the house and sprinkle 'rational dust' on both of us?"

Several installments of 5-Minute Friday past, I wrote--very obliquely--about a decision that was suddenly staring Michael and I in the face, a terrifying and yet enormously peaceful feeling that it was time to vote with our feet. Saddening, in some ways disheartening, and yet such a relief, to have that decision finally made for good and all. This past week, we made it officially. Hand in hand, we woke up, cast our ballots for love, compassion, and being rational sheep, and walked back through the same door we had once pushed open as an entrance, and which served this time as an exit.

No more standing just inside the doorway, being a refugee in the nearest safe haven because we had nowhere else to go. You can be a refugee in a tent in an open field; you don't need special permission for that. This time, I think I'll try finding a place to belong. It doesn't have to be perfect; after all, we're not. Its inhabitants just have to be honest about being as f***ed up and sinful as we are. Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. On us all. Together.

Review of "Tutankhamun"

2012-01-12T17:28:00.001-05:00

Tutankhamun

by Demi

This is a picture book (though that's a little like saying a Stradivarius is a "fiddle"), so it may seem odd to some of you that I have chosen to review it. However, all of Demi's books are so gorgeous, and this one in particular so breathtaking, that I had to share it with you, and draw your attention to her work if you're not yet familiar with her. Visually, her books are simply transcendent, like slipping into the best humanity's dreams have ever achieved.

Demi takes her research very seriously, another thing I greatly admire about her, so her copy that accompanies the illustrations reflects the best that current scholarship on the subject has to offer.

"Can anyone spot the defect in this plan?"

Yes, that's right. Demi's books occasionally become dated as scholarship continues to develop, and this one is the latest victim, since our beloved Zahi Hawass revealed more of Tutankhamun's story. Still, I just find it impressive that Demi gave her bibliography. And it included some of the biggest names in Egyptology. In a "picture book". Tell me you don't find that impressive.

For those who know anything about Egyptian art and language, I must warn you that a few of Demi's artistic choices, made no doubt for stylistic reasons, accidentally made someone or something say something she probably didn't intend them to. But it's a flaw most people would probably never notice, and it's just so gorgeous that it hardly matters. If you like Egyptology, history, or even just shiny things, you must give this book a flick through.

Positronic Words

2012-01-11T18:50:00.000-05:00

I have been absent from Wondrous Words Wednesday for a couple of weeks, and I must admit, I missed all of you and your weird and wonderful words. Honestly, I was in a bit of a reading slump there for a week or two, and only undertook to read one YA novel that really didn't contain any words that challenged me, hence my brief vanishing act. But, I found an unexpected source this week in a Star Trek novel, of all places! See if you knew these before I defined them for you; they were certainly new to me.

1. integument--basically, whatever protects the outside: a shell, skin, or fur on an animate creature, the shell of an egg, or the surface of a plant.

2. rictus--The sort of creepy, awful, seeming smile that people have on their face when their in the last death throes of something like the nastier poisons. Ergo, it can also be a painfully, horribly fake smile. I believe "grimace" would also work here.

3. brio--pretty much this is just another way of saying gusto.

So, there you go. Happy word hunting!

Barely Yarning Along

2012-01-11T17:30:00.000-05:00

Okay, confession time--and that's an ironic choice of words on my part, as you'll discover momentarily. Last week's boldly stated plans for yarning greatness certainly did not materialize. There has been great upheaval in my family's life recently, all of which came to a head in the past week, and crocheting and knitting were among the first casualties of my distracted state of mind. That's unusual, really, because normally, when something major is going on, I'd expect to want to crochet or knit MORE, to soothe my mental agitation, but this week, I was too busy reading. The tale unfolds thusly.

Or actually, this is the very short version of the tale, because I wish to avoid all muckraking. So, in a nutshell, this week saw the culmination of a long process for the Good Man Michael and I of deciding that we could no longer in good conscience be members of the Eastern Orthodox Church, and of our departure to the Episcopal Church. My week was spent reading, researching and preparing to commune for the first time at my new church, our local installment of which is St. Paul's Episcopal Church.

In short, knitting was not part of my existence this week, and my only crochet accomplishment can be seen in the photo on the right: yes, I added about 2/3 of a row of ruffle trim. Granted, this is the FINAL row, so if I ever manage to finish it (and to weave in the ends mentioned last week which at the moment are still blissfully free to flap about), the Christmas blanket that will never end may, finally, end after all. We'll see. As for what I've been reading this week, the enormous stack of books BEHIND the one row of trim should tell the story more than sufficiently, don't you think? Hope your week was more productive, and a little less momentous. Once in a while, momentous is necessary, even a good thing, but I think I've had enough revolution to last me a while, thanks.

Top 10 Late Lamented Authors

2012-01-10T04:47:00.000-05:00

I've been compiling my list for the Top 10 Tuesday question this week, "Authors you wish would write another book," and it turns out that many of my favorite writers are dead! I'm not sure what that says about me, or about the current state of publishing--probably nothing that profound, I'm willing to bet--but there it is, all the same.

Without further ado, "Bring out your dead!"

10. Brian Jacques--the wonderful Redwall series that made us all believe that the characters of Watership Down could go badass in the right authorial hands. Requiescat in pace.

9. Anne Rice--who is actually still alive, and therefore REALLY needs to write another in her Christ the Lord series. To be perfectly honest, however, I can live quite handily without her adding to the already over-bloated vampire fiction population.

8. Jean Plaidy--nom de plume of Eleanor Hibbert. Oh, my dear, how I would love to see what your take would be on the MODERN royal scandals and sagas of the day, if only you were here to write them! Requiescat in pace.

7. Tom Clancy--I honestly don't know whether to consider Tom in the still-alive category or not. They claim he is, but it's been so many years since he actually WROTE a book that has his name slapped somewhere on its cover that I have my doubts. I begin to suspect that he's like the Chinese emperor whose body was embalmed and toured the country in a carriage because the government feared there would be too much instability if word got out that he was dead! Tom, I miss YOUR books. I'm thoroughly weary of everyone ELSE writing "your" books, though.

6. Terry Pratchett--is definitely still alive, and very much still writing books, despite a diagnosis of Alzheimers, which kind of makes him my hero. Seriously. I include him on this list because, just for me, he needs to concentrate all his writing energies on keeping me supplied with new Nac Mac Feegle books the rest of my life, the darling wee scunners. Wee Free Men Forever!

5. L.M. Montgomery--Only in such a truly august company could the creator of my beloved Anne of Green Gables rank so comparatively low on the list. The world will always need about a dozen more of her books, even if we won't ever get them now. Requiescat in pace.

4. Chaim Potok--It seems I'm just going to keep raving about this man on my blog until SOMEONE finally says in the comments, "Okay, I surrender! I finally took your advice, read one of his books, and it WAS, indeed brilliant." Anybody going to go ahead and do that on behalf of all the rest of my readers? Because I promise you, the man was a genius, and the world has lost a great soul. Requiescat in pace.

Getty Images

3. Sir John Mortimer--Nothing short of the death of his inventor, the final putting down of the pen, could make the incorrigible Horace Rumpole, barrister at law, stop appearing before the Old Bailey bench or the Uxbridge Magistrates' Court in defence of the Timson clan who were his bread and butter for some forty years. We miss you, Sir John; you were an original, and a fine citizen of the human race. Here's to "the Golden Thread that runs through British justice". May I see genuine liberty revived in my lifetime. Requiescat in pace.

2. Jane Austen--Unbelievable that Jane is the runner-up here, I know, but still I must eulogize her a bit. She was the first to teach the English-speaking world what strong, intelligent women could be, to decide for herself where her destiny lay, to prove to the world that a woman's mind could be the equal of any male writer's anywhere, and to lead the charge for staying single rather than settling for Mr. Wrong or Mr. "Eh". To her we owe every strong female character from Josephine March to Miss Marple. Without Jane Austen, there is no Hermione Granger, and we are all her spiritual daughters. Requiescat in pace.

1. J.K. Rowling--She's the only author in the world who could beat out Jane Austen for the top spot, and I can give her no higher praise than that. Ms. Rowling, the world is crying out for more of your extraordinary gift. Even if you have no more Harry to give, it would be a travesty of epic proportions to never again use the astonishing talent you've been given to entertain, educate and inspire your fellow man. Humanity needs your words, and I've never yet known a writer who could actually STOP writing. Please, miss, may we have some more?

Happy Mailbox Monday!

2012-01-09T18:37:00.002-05:00

DOH! *facepalm* I forgot until just now that it's MONDAY, and unlike last week, my mailbox actually had quite an exciting time of it this week, so I must post a Mailbox Monday entry immediately, while it still IS Monday!

ANYway, this week's haul included--

FOR REVIEW:

The Resignation of Eve: What if Adam's Rib is No Longer Willing to be the Church's Backbone?

by Jim Henderson

THIS one certainly looks like it will be nothing if not interesting. Pretty much since the Evangelical movement began, its churches have always been regularly attended by more women than men. This author is pointing out the fact that women are leaving for a myriad of reasons. At the risk of stirring up a sh*t storm, I have to ask: I wonder if he mentions that one reason women are leaving is because they've been expected to do everything else in their churches, but have not been allowed to be part of the ordained leadership?

BOOKS I BOUGHT:

I have been determined for about a decade to own all of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books in this beautiful, full-color edition, and this week, I finally accomplished that goal. Hurrah! It's a small thing, but it makes me disproportionately happy for some reason.

Big changes in my life occasioned the purchase of these last two books, changes to which I may or may not devote an entire post some time--I honestly haven't decided yet. Some things just feel intensely personal, even if they're NOT about sex or bodily functions, don't they? Religion can certainly be one of those things. Who knows? I may wake up tomorrow and decide to spill my guts about the whole thing to you, my loyal readers.

Either way, this post isn't the time or place, so instead, let me just say that I got two lovely new books with shiny gold crosses embossed on their covers, and have been avidly studying them ever since. Aren't they lovely?

Hope you enjoyed your mailbox experience this week as much as I enjoyed mine!

Review of "The Dragons of Chiril"

2012-01-09T04:32:00.000-05:00

Let me just say up front, I take my hat off to publisher Waterbrook Multnomah for truly meaning it when they say that they want only honest reviews in their Blogging for Books program. Obviously, they gave me a free copy of this book. When I told them the book was so bad I couldn't finish it, offered to pay the shipping to mail it back to them and just forget the whole thing, they insisted that I should post my review, anyway, because they value honesty in their reviewers. Kudos to them all the way, and now, please don't think I'm being rude when I have to write one of the most scathing reviews you've ever read.

The Dragons of Chiril by Donita K. Paul is perhaps the worst book I have ever attempted to read in my life. To lay out a few parameters, let me just say that I enjoy good fantasy fiction now and again; this just wasn't good fiction of any kind. Also, I admit I was a bit suspicious of the idea of Evangelical Christian fantasy from the outset, not to mention annoyed that many Evangelicals who used to denounce Harry Potter as being of the devil have now gotten onto the fantasy bandwagon and seem to be trying to produce the Evangelical Harry Potter. Thus far, they have failed astoundingly. However, I decided I was letting my prejudices get the better of me, and when I saw this book available for review, I requested it, determined to give it a chance and stop prejudging things so harshly. After all, I love C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Madeleine L'Engle, and they certainly wrote fantasy. Unfortunately, the big difference is that they could all write.

I've never read anything else by this author, so this may be an early work, or not representative of her better abilities. I must say that in all fairness. Neither did I finish the book, so I will not be giving it my infamous Dorothy Parker Award, on the slim possibility that it got better at some point. In all things, let us at least attempt to be fair. Nevertheless, here is a succinct list of the shortcomings the book evinced in the 70-odd pages I managed to struggle through.

* It is incredibly derivative of better works. There is a magic pathway between two different continents on the same planet; would you like to guess where that gateway is located? If you said, "In a closet?", you would not only be correct, but would also be familiar with C.S. Lewis' Narnia, I'll wager. Clearly, this author is. There's also a brilliant but somewhat daft and occasionally absent-minded wizard--Dumbledore, anyone?

* Maybe it's just me, but I don't consider a fantasy novel the appropriate place to debate evolutionism vs. creationism, in part because I read fantasy to get away from the everyday, mundane, and ridiculously highly charged matters of life such as politics. When the phrase "designed intelligently" actually appeared on the page, I knew I wasn't going to make it through this book.

* A little tip to would-be fantasy writers everywhere: If all of your place and character names are more than four syllables long, and one of them rhymes too closely with the word "macaroon," you're going to annoy your audience, or amuse them in ways that don't encourage them to keep reading.

* This was the only time in my life that I felt sorry for a character who was obviously meant to annoy me--namely, the heroine's mother--because she was trapped in the hands of an author who wrote her so very poorly. Her irritating qualities went beyond even cliche and achieved simply absurd.

* The final straw for me was when the Dumbledore-like character and his faithful lackey started missionary work among the natives on the other side of the world. There's a story that after reading some of Lewis' Narnia, J.R.R. Tolkien pointed out that he greatly disliked allegory. I never really understood why, since some of the elements of Tolkien's own Middle Earth could be considered strongly allegorical (though he'd hate me for saying so), and I felt Lewis' allegory only added to the richness of his stories. Now, I finally understand. When done badly, religious allegory is so thinly veiled that even a lifelong Christian like me can feel like I've been mentally violated by someone else's religious agenda. This isn't a novel; it's a sermon that makes John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress look subtle and oblique in conveying its message.

The publisher's representative asked me if there was any group of readers to whom I can honestly recommend the book. Truthfully, I can say that if your primary criterion for enjoying a book is whether or not it holds unwaveringly to a specific set of religious values, regardless of plot or character development, and if you have not read the works from which the author so unsuccessfully borrowed, then you will probably like this book. Otherwise, I strongly advise you to skip it.

And an Afghan in a Pear Tree

2012-01-04T04:51:00.000-05:00

Yes, friends, the now famous "Christmas blanket" appears on Yarn Along for one last week. I had hoped to have it done before I posted this week, but I've still got a few rows of edging to apply, not to mention the seemingly never-ending task of weaving in the ends once the project is "finished". Is there a knitter or crocheter anywhere on Earth who actually ENJOYS that process?

So, the blanket is finally all but finished, and I will next turn my attention back to the nascent scarf that will be my first completed knitting project if I ever manage to finish it. I really like the beginning I've made on it, so hopefully it will go fairly quickly, especially as I'm developing that stitching rhythm that we must each eventually acquire in order to succeed at any handiwork endeavor. Obviously, I will be bringing you the latest updates on events as they occur.

Finally, as to my current reading life, have you ever reached a point at which you've officially lost count of how many books you're simultaneously reading? That's where I am currently. Believe it or not, the book in my picture for this week is something I grabbed off my shelves "for a bit of light reading"--Hermione Granger is my hero!--in the midst of also working on a book about an ancient Greek explorer named Pytheas, Jane Austen's Mansfield Park, and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. (There's pretty much never a time when I'm not re-reading some volume of the Harry Potter series. Once AGAIN I say, Goodreads, you need a re-read function!!) After a lifetime spent as a student, I seem incapable of being content unless I'm trying to read more books at once than any one person can balance. I know; I'm strange. But at least I'm happy!

Review of "Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children"

2012-01-03T02:15:00.000-05:00

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

by Ransom Riggs

I must say, peculiar is certainly the word. This book is weird, but in a kind of freaky, hair-raising, delicious way.

Jacob grew up hearing tales from his grandfather that seemed full of miracles and magic. As a small child, the boy loved the stories, but as he grew older, he began to realize that the details could not possibly be true. Despite his grandfather's bizarre and fascinating photographs, no one could do the things Grandfather Abraham described his childhood friends doing. When Abraham unexpectedly died under suspicious circumstances, Jacob had to set off on a journey to find out what, if anything, lay behind his grandfather's seemingly ridiculous but innocuous accounts.

Certain aspects of this book's plot were weak, or not sufficiently fleshed out, and I found the ending quite unsatisfying, but not that surprising. Based on the ending's structure, I'll be very surprised if this doesn't become a series of books, which hopefully will resolve any such dissatisfaction. The simple fact is, this strange and fascinating little book kept me so intrigued that I finished it very quickly. It may not be perfect, but it's an awfully good read. Be forewarned--it's a little creepy. A dark and stormy night may not be the best time to start this one. But if you like creepy, you're goint to love it.

2012 Challenge Omnibus

2012-01-01T19:04:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year!

And now that 2012 has begun, we have much challenge business to attend to. First off, the Read Your OWN Library! Challenge is rolling on, especially since I received books for Christmas and now need to chip away at my backlog of reading material more than ever. Here, as a refresher, are the outlines of the challenge. (More details are available at the link above, which will take you to the RYOL headquarters.)

1. The goal is to read books we've owned for more than 6 months, but still have not read for some reason.
2. There are three levels to the challenge, but each requires that we read one such book each month, write a post about it, and link up to it here at The Beauty of Eclecticism.
3. When you have completed the first month of the challenge, you will receive the code for a lovely and talented badge, crafted by yours truly, to place on your blog and announce your achievement to the world. You only get this badge once, however, unless you switch to a different level for the next month, in which case, you can collect them all!

In the December just past, my chosen book was The Chimes by Charles Dickens, one of his famous Christmas Books. The link will take you to my full review of the book, which was actually my least favorite of the three Dickensian Christmas Books I read in 2011. Since it still got three stars from me, that should indicate the high overall quality of the series. (Because the jury was still out on whether or not Dickens was a skilled writer, yeah? *pardon my eye-roll*)

My chosen book for January's read-my-own is Jane Austen's Mansfield Park. It will be the last title in my quest to complete the Regency and Victorian Reading Challenge, so as usual for me, let's here it for double-dipping!

Let us also remember that the 2012 Medieval Challenge has officially begun, and will last throughout the year. (It also has its own HQ page, if you click the link above.) This challenge has three levels, as well, and depending on which you choose, you'll be reading as many as twelve works written between the years of 400-1550 CE. There will be a linky post here on the last day of each month, where those who have finished a medieval book that month can link up their reviews. At the end, we'll all see how we fared, and whether those legendary and hallowed tomes lived up to their lofty reputations.

5 Minutes of Openness

2011-12-30T02:32:00.000-05:00

It's 5-minute Friday in this final week of December 2011. After a year of profound changes globally and profound loss in my own family, I suspect that I am fresh out of profundity. However, with a prompt word like "Open," maybe I can at least manage some honest self-examination as a year draws to a close. I begin at 11:25 p.m.

What do you do when only one path is left open to you, and following it means you've officially voted with your feet?

Sometimes, when we feel we have to distance ourselves from something, we use gentle-sounding phrases like, "Don't worry; the door is always open." And yet, Robert Frost said that in life, "way leads on to way," and each of us in such a moment "doubted if I should ever come back."

A new year open before us. New opportunities. A time to reaffirm that to which we must cling as sacred, and to reexamine precisely what fits into that category. It is a smaller collection of non-negotiables, perhaps, than I have ever before in my life believed it to be.

I don't know what comes next. I want to be open to it. I don't want to be without anchors, without boundaries or limits.

I just don't want to be closed off. I need "the wisdom to know the difference." Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.

11:30 on the dot.

Review of "The Magic Room"

2011-12-29T02:44:00.001-05:00

First off, I would like to thank BlogHer and the Penguin Group for allowing me to be a part of the blog tour for this very enjoyable book. I was given a free ARC of The Magic Room by Jeffrey Zaslow, and a small monetary compensation for the time I invested in reading and reviewing the work. However, if you know my blog at all, you know I pull no punches, so if I say I enjoyed the book, I did. My reviews are not for sale.

In a bridal shop that is virtually the only remaining industry in its small mid-Western town, there is a room with soft lighting, deep, footstep-hushing carpet, and a pedestal. Women step onto that pedestal as prospective brides hoping for something extraordinary. They leave it, usually in tears, as brides who have found "the dress." Jeffrey Zaslow takes us on that journey not just with one, but through the true and sometimes heart-rending stories of numerous brides in search of their dreams. As we quickly learn, in many ways the dress is just the final symbol of that complete fairytale ending that all brides hope for and some never find.

There are stories in The Magic Room of women from so many different ages and walks of life that any reader is bound to identify with one of them. Yes, I do mean any reader, because men are as integral a part of each of these stories as the blushing brides. Loving fathers, supportive brothers, husbands amazing or alcoholic--virtually every type of man is present in the interwoven tales, as well. Moreover, Zaslow has grasped what the dress hunt means to women in a way that may clear up some of the mystery for any man willing to read this book.

Only one aspect of the book requires some advance notice. Many of these stories are full of very gritty realism. There is little in the work that the conservative reader would find offensive, but an account in which an individual is gravely injured may prove overpowering to some, as the author describes the person's wounds in gruesome detail. There was nothing gratuitous about Zaslow's handling of the event; it was a true story, and only with such grim specifics could Zaslow give the reader a complete picture of what the character was facing. Still, anyone who faints easily may wish to skim those few pages. I honestly nearly lost consciousness myself.

Leaving aside those of us who can never look at the fake blood on medical dramas, however, this was a genuinely interesting and heartwarming read. I quickly grew to care about each of Jeffrey Zaslow's subjects, felt that he had sketched each of them as a fully-fledged individual in a way that kept me reading their personal sagas and cheering them on. The Magic Room reaches below the exterior, the potentially frivolous elements of wedding plans, and leaves us with a deeper examination of why these things matter to us. I would recommend it to anyone who is in any way connected to an upcoming wedding, to anybody who enjoys a good romance, and for all those who just appreciate a well-written, entertaining book in which they might learn something.

Post-Christmas Nightstand

2011-12-28T03:31:00.000-05:00

So, now that everything has been unwrapped and a giant, garden-sized trash bag full of once-beautiful wrapping paper carried out to the can on the curb, what has this Christmas added to my nightstand reading? I'm willing to bet that pretty much ALL of us book bloggers have more books on our nightstands every December 26th than we had on December 24th. I got enough new books that some of them are still scattered throughout the house, and another, though on the nightstand, is so cool that it's going to get a post of its own. Here is a quick peek at the new arrivals important enough to immediately land themselves beside my bed.

Library Borrowings:

Ms. Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs--I've finished this one, and it is just hovering, waiting to be reviewed when I've completely recovered from a nasty cold.
13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson

Audiobook:

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone--Imported all the way from merry old England, and performed by Stephen Fry. I still haven't made up my mind if I prefer it or the American version, though, which is performed very impressively by Jim Dale.

And my favorite, a Christmas gift I bought for myself:

I just adore Demi's gorgeous books, and have been absolutely obsessed with Egyptology since I was in elementary school, so there's nothing not to love about THIS beauty!

Purl Along

2011-12-28T00:25:00.001-05:00

OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!

I did it, everybody! Using a life-saving combination of books and YouTube--thank you to everyone who posted such helpful videos--I conquered the dreaded knitting needles. Obviously, I'm only a beginner, but I did actually figure out what I had been doing wrong in my previous attempts, and am well on my way to making my first scarf that actually lies flat. Hurrah! So far, I can create the garter and stockinette stitches without difficulty, and this scarf is coming together with the extremely simple rib K1P1. Still, it makes me ridiculously happy to think that I can now actually KNIT!

Meanwhile, the Christmas blanket is coming along beautifully. Granted, it's now December 27th, but throughout my childhood, we always left everything decorated until New Year's Day, and now that the Good Man and I have established our own household and family, we stick to the old tradition of the full Twelve Days of Christmas, so I'm hoping to have the blanket basically finished by Epiphany (January 6th).

On the reading front, I actually read an entire book since last week's Yarn Along. I picked up Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs and could not lay it down until I finished it (review coming as soon as I finish recovering from this plague I've caught). Now I've moved on to Surprised by Oxford by Carolyn Weber, but it is in my Kindle, and a picture of that wouldn't be terribly exciting if you've ever seen a Kindle, so here's the cover image for you to enjoy.

Happy Yarning, and Happy New Year!

Return from the Undead

2011-12-27T19:32:00.000-05:00

My gosh! This is the longest I've gone without putting up a post in MONTHS! That's what catching some kind of heinous plague will do for you. Tests have remained inconclusive as to what we all have; theories seem to focus on strep and the more nebulous force that my Good Man refers to as "the creeping crud." (I know; he always uses such impenetrably technical language.)

Anyway, whatever it is, we all caught it from the SuperToddler--naturally!--who proceeded to have more energy than the rest of us combined by her second day of antibiotics. The entire adult population of the family is still tearing through boxes of kleenex and hacking up internal organs, but we're all on anitbiotics now, also, and are slowly coming back to life. And a good thing, too--I have a LOT of blogging to catch up on!

Yarn A Loooonnngggg

2011-12-21T01:47:00.001-05:00

Well, my little Christmas blanket from last week's post is coming along much better than I thought it would be at this stage, proving once again that I need to have more faith in myself. Visual Aid 1 will demonstrate the current overall size of my current crochet project.

(And I apologize for the image quality I am able to coax out of my cell phone's camera function.) Visual Aid 2 will provide you with a cover image of a book which, I'm sad to say, I am not enjoying nearly as much as I am my latest crochet adventure.

My review, when I manage to finally slog my way through the book, will probably be short, operating on the "if you can't say something nice" policy. BUT, I'm only 30 pages in, so I won't offer any more words now that I may be forced to eat later. Either way, at least the blanket is coming along nicely. My SuperToddler, Brigid, gave it the ultimate ringing endorsement. "Christmas blanket! It's so beautiful, Mommy!" A mother's heart can ask for no more than that.

Top 10 Xmas Wishlist

2011-12-20T02:58:00.000-05:00

This week, in the final countdown to Christmas, we join the gang at The Broke and The Bookish in declaring the 10 books we would most like Santa to leave in our stockings. To be perfectly honest, this isn't so much a "hope" list as a "wish" list for me, because Christmas present buying is a rather odd arrangement in this family. As the mommy and appointed chancellor of the exchequer, I buy the Christmas presents for everybody, including myself, so I already know which books "Santa" has in store for me, books being relatively inexpensive enough items that I tend to buy my own. The only real surprises I get for Christmas come from my wonderful mother-in-law, who is excellent at picking out gifts for me, let me tell you, but when she asks me for a list of things from which she can choose and surprise me, I don't often put books on it. I've asked her for a couple, but not many.

Neither is this list my ULTIMATE book wishlist, a mental list I keep with me always, as I'm sure we all do, of the books I would love to own but would never spend that much money at one time on myself. This list includes a few Egyptology tomes that cost around $100 each, an encyclopedia of British royal history that's about $90, and a gorgeous book about ecclesiastical heraldry that costs $130. I'd love to have all of them. Unless we somehow win a lottery even though we don't normally play, it'll be a cold day in Hell before I actually plunk down that kind of cash to get any of them! So, what follows is just a list of books I hope to buy for myself in the New Year, I suppose, though Santa or any other kind spirit who is listening is more than welcome to make them show up on my doorstep for Christmas.

10. Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs--It just looks fascinating, if rather creepy.

9. Cake Wrecks: When Professional Cakes Go Hilariously Wrong by Jen Yates

8. Wreck the Halls: Cake Wrecks Gets "Festive" (also) by Jen Yates--All hail my beloved Jen Yates, Queen of the Geek Peoples!

7. The Legend of Lao Tzu and the Tao Te Ching by Demi--I love the Tao Te Ching, and I REALLY love Demi's indescribably gorgeous picture books. These book are not just intended for kids, in my opinion, though I hope to get her entire corpus eventually and read them to the SuperToddler regularly, once she becomes a SuperSomethingElse (still haven't figured out what I'm going to call her when she gets older).

6. Fermat's Enigma: The Epic Quest to Solve the World's Greatest Mathematical Problem by Simon Singh--I like Simon Singh's explanatory scientific writing. He makes me feel like I'm learning something valid without also making me feel stupid. And if you're a ST:TNG fan, I don't have to tell you why I'd be interested in Fermat--or what ST:TNG stands for.

5. Half of the Human Race by Anthony Quinn--I've spotted this one on several blogs and on Goodreads, it looks interesting, and I'm still not sure whether I can lay my hands on a copy of it here in the US.

4. Penguin By Design: A Cover Story by Phil Baines--Ooo, I've been dying to read this one for ages. I hope it lives up to my expectations of it when I finally do!

3. The Blue Shoe: A Tale of Thievery, Villainy, Sorcery and Shoes by Roderick Townley and Illustrated by Mary GrandPre--This book just LOOKS gorgeous! Anything with that much blue on the cover belongs in my library. Besides, Townley's The Great Good Thing was pretty good, so I expect this one will be, too.

2. Beezus and Ramona by Beverly Cleary--Late as it may be to start these now, I want to finally be able to say that I've read them. At least, I want to give them a try.

1. The Penderwicks at Point Mouette by Jeanne Birdsall--I can't BELIEVE I still haven't gotten around to this book yet, especially considering that I absolutely adore the Penderwicks, even the animals that would make my allergies go insane if they were real. I MUST read this book!

Review of "The Cricket on the Hearth"

2011-12-19T18:40:00.000-05:00

The Cricket on the Hearth

by Charles Dickens

This is the third and final Dickens Christmas Book that I read this Christmas season, which means I have finished the Christmas Spirit Challenge! Hurray! Yes, well, I'll try to compose myself now and write a dignified review of the book.

Those of you who have read my reviews of A Christmas Carol and The Chimes know that Mr. Dickens' Christmas works are kind of a mixed bag, but I enjoyed this one quite a bit. The stars of our show are a married couple who are a sort of May-December romance. They are not wealthy, but they have a cozy home, they are very kind, and they have the obligatory adorable baby, and a daft teenaged nursemaid who is definitely the comic relief. Naturally, the plot develops around the much ado about nothing that always threatens such blissful domestic tranquility in these tales. Having finally read this, I understand much better the origin of many Christmas cliches, especially the character of the villainous toymaker. I don't know if that one was already old news in Dickens' time, or if we got that strange archetype from him, but either way, his version is pretty entertaining.

Unlike the other two Christmas Books, the supernatural element, though definitely present, is not quite as strong in this one. Let's just say that of the three, this is the only one in which the "miraculous" elements could easily have just been the good agency of the hero's own mind. With a surprise ending that I think must have inspired O'Henry, The Cricket on the Hearth is a sweet enjoyable read that ends on an unexpectedly fun note.

My Mailbox Monday

2011-12-19T01:49:00.000-05:00

Mailbox Monday is a traveling meme, of all things, originally founded by Marcia from A Girl and Her Books and now on a permanent blog tour. Different book bloggers host Mailbox Monday each month throughout the year, and as I jump on this bandwagon for the first time, it is currently being brought to us at Let Them Read Books. The delightful point of the exercise is to share your latest acquisitions with an audience who can understand and appreciate your enthusiasm, not to mention that you can occasionally arouse just a tad of envy. Library books don't count, but audiobooks and e-reads are welcome.

All my incoming this week consisted of e-books. First, I received Surprised by Oxford through Booksneeze. It is a highly cerebral "coming of faith" spiritual memoir by Carolyn Weber, and I'm anxious to read it in large part because I'm looking forward to getting an inside view of the famous university.

The other two books I received this week were from Netgalley. It was the first time I've ever had a request approved there, so I was pretty excited about it. The Crown by Nancy Bilyeau is a historical novel set during the insanity of Cromwell's England. I am always a sucker for good historical fiction, especially when set in the Sceptered Isle, so let's hope this one turns out to match that description.

Finally, House of Stone is a book which I hope will be a powerful if saddening read. Here is its blurb for your consideration.

Last spring, when Anthony Shadid—one of four New York Times reporters captured in Libya as the region erupted—was freed, he went home. Not to Boston, Beirut, or Oklahoma where he was raised by his Lebanese-American family, but to an ancient estate built by his great-grandfather, a place filled with memories of a lost era when the Middle East was a world of grace, grandeur, and unexpected departures. For two years previous, Shadid had worked to reconstruct the house and restore his spirit after both had weathered war. Now the author of the award-winning Night Draws Near (National Book Critics Circle Award finalist, Los Angeles Times Book Prize) tells the story of the house's re-creation, revealing its mysteries and recovering the lives that have passed through it. Shadid juxtaposes past and present as he traces the house’s renewal along with his family’s flight from Lebanon and resettlement in America. House of Stone is an unforgettable memoir of the world’s most volatile landscape and the universal yearning for home.

Have you ever taken a university degree with which you then proceeded to do virtually nothing? Thus far, that very accurately describes the Master of Arts I hold in Middle Eastern studies. Be that as it may, I gained an untold wealth of information and made life-long friends, and ultimately would not have converted to the Eastern Orthodox Church without becoming better acquainted with the Near East. I watch current events in that region closely, and there certainly have been some extraordinary events to watch in the past few years! With the death of Muamar Qaddhafi, the once tightly-closed country of Libya is undergoing exciting but unnerving upheaval. I look forward to reading Anthony Shadid's take on recent developments, especially since they strike so deeply personally for him.

That's my haul for the past week. May your holiday mailbox be merry, bright, and full of lovely books!

Review of "The Chimes"

2011-12-17T00:13:00.000-05:00

The Chimes

by Charles Dickens

Charles Dickens wrote a brief series of stories, of which A Christmas Carol was one, that were originally serialized in newspapers and have come to be known simply as The Christmas Books. None of the others achieved anything like the phenomenal fame of Scrooge's tale, however. One of my favorite characters in fiction, Anne Shirley, once said she couldn't forgive her big liberal arts college for not being the small, local teacher's training school that she attended first. I think some of my response to The Chimes is simply an inability to forgive the book for NOT being A Christmas Carol.

Basically, this book is the original "It's a Wonderful Life." Dickens seemed to feel that the intervention of the supernatural into the affairs of men was one of the required elements for his Christmas Books, so like the Jimmy Stewart film, The Chimes takes us on an unexpected metaphysical adventure. Our guides, however, are not angels, but spirits who have a somewhat more sinister feel.

One aspect of this book that surprised and, I must confess, annoyed me, was the intended target of Dickens' morality tale. The wealth, greed, callous behavior and blissful unconsciousness of the world around them often displayed by the well-to-do in Dickens are simply a backdrop in this tale, a fact of life that must be accepted and expected in this uncaring world. Dickens' lesson is intended for the poor, and it is simply that any moment of losing faith and hope is every bit as wicked as Scrooge's years of grinding usury. No matter what crushing experiences we may face in life, we must carry on, believing that life will not always be so dark; refusing to do so, at least for Dickens' characters, can lead to dire consequences.

This is certainly a fine and very necessary moral, one of which I need to be reminded periodically as regular readers of this blog are no doubt aware. Still, it was as if Dickens had slapped Bob Cratchett for crying when Tiny Tim died.

Having said all that, however, I do not wish to leave you with a false impression. This is a decent read, interesting enough to keep me asking "what happens next" until the very end, which is the most basic criterion for reading a book, isn't it? I simply felt that the plot moved a little slowly at times, and did not always hang together as coherently as I would have expected. If you enjoy Dickens, you need to add this one to your TBR pile. If he's not usually your cup of tea, you're quite safe skipping The Chimes.

Connecting with Friday

2011-12-16T04:19:00.000-05:00

Another week gone, and another 5-minute Friday is upon me. We faithful visitors to The Gypsy Mama's weekly meme pause the rest of life, and our own self-criticism, for 5 minutes out of our week, and let the words flow. Or hope they flow, anyway. I begin at 12:55 a.m. (of all unholy hours of the night to still be up and writing) to discuss "Connected".

Two weeks from now, I will arrive at the one-year anniversary of my mother's death. A fortnight ago, HER mother, my grandmother, died. And for the first time in nearly a year, I picked up my crochet hook this week. My mother taught me to crochet, and her grandmother taught her. She was left-handed, and I am not, so we had our challenges, but eventually we figured it out. For some reason, though, she could never convey to me how to accomplish a "granny square". She said it was the easiest thing in crochet that actually involved a pattern, but I could never seem to master it.

This week I dived in, determined to get it right. The picture above is my handiwork thus far, and now I finally see what Mom meant. It really is easy, you really can just disengage your mind and enjoy the peaceful rhythm of wrapping, looping, stitching, yarn over, slip stitch, 1, 2, 3. Every stitch connected. Every time I loop the yarn around my hook and twist it once again into the piece I'm making, it becomes something new. And it can be unmade at 1,000 times the speed at which it came together. If pulled on, the entire thing can vanish so quickly. Where once was solid fabric, just one long string, like the peace after a tornado miraculously blows itself out. Life is fragile. I am fragile. And with every twist of string, I reconnect myself to my past, hone my skills to teach them to my daughter in the future, and keep the thread of the family running through my hands.

Words I Got for Christmas

2011-12-14T20:24:00.002-05:00

You can always rely on Dickens for some extraordinary words, and since I just finished reading The Cricket on the Hearth, my third and final Dickens Christmas Book for the 2011 holiday season, all of my words for Wondrous Words Wednesday this week will be courtesy of good old Charles.

1. water-butt: Sounds a bit rude, but it's just a rain barrel.

2. pattens: These are basically the rest of northwestern Europe's version of the Dutch wooden shoes. They don't cover your feet particularly well; instead, they are platform shoes, keeping your feet above the mud.

3. pertinacious: This ACTUALLY means what I USED to think "pernicious" meant, i.e. stubborn.

4. fingerpost: I didn't know there was a specific term for those old-fashioned wooden mile marker posts that used to sit in major intersections, and still inhabit some more rural intersections. But there is, and this is it.

5. gaiters: Basically a larger type of spats. These protect not just the shoes themselves, but run a fair way up the lower portion of each trouser leg. I'd heard this word many times, and had a feeling it was a garment, but I couldn't have told you what type.

Happy holiday reading!

My Very First Yarn Along!

2011-12-14T02:12:00.000-05:00

I must admit, I'm pretty excited about this for several reasons. First of all, I discovered Yarn Along, a regular feature hosted by Ginny of Small Things, months ago. I've been wanting ever since to dig my yarn back out and dive into a project, but life... Need I even try to finish that sentence? Of course, the biggest life event that stood in my way was my mother's death in January. She was the one who taught me to crochet, just as her grandmother taught her, and picking my hook back up again was an extremely bittersweet thought. I've only now worked up the courage go back to it, not to mention the interest. But it's winter now, (even if I can't get the weather to cooperate and give me some snow). It's almost Christmas; I sit in my living room every evening in my recliner and enjoy the glow coming from our tree in the corner of the adjacent dining room. Can there be a better set up for crocheting on a long winter's evening, with baby and husband safely tucked away in their beds for the night and Jim Dale reading Harry Potter to me through my earbuds? Yes, it's definitely time to crochet again.

In my own defense, I'd like to point out that I'm a better crocheter than a photographer. I did find out a couple of nights ago, however, exactly how rusty I was even at crochet, when I had to restart this project four times before I finally figured out what the pattern was saying AND remembered how to execute said instructions. Pretty sad, considering that this is a very simple pattern. The grey matter is warming up again, though, and believe it or not, that little green and white lump has aspirations of becoming a lovely afghan in various Christmas colors when it grows up. You're going to be seeing this project develop for a few weeks, I'm afraid; the book of the moment will change much more quickly in the weekly photographs than the crochet will, because an afghan takes me a little while. Anyway, I'm back at it again, and that's the important thing.

As for this book, you'll notice it says "Etc." at the end of the title. I have finished the "A Christmas Carol" portion, and am now working on "Etc.," namely The Cricket on the Hearth. Naturally, a review will be forthcoming here on the blog when I have finished it. Happy Yarning/Reading!

Top 10 Giftable Books

2011-12-14T00:50:00.000-05:00

I've been playing catch-up all week, since my wonderful Good Man Michael and I took a weekend trip together (post coming as soon as I get some pictures pulled together). Meanwhile, though it is barely still Tuesday--and isn't still Tuesday at all in some parts of the world--here is my contribution to this week's Top 10 Most Giftable Books on The Broke and the Bookish.

10. Big Bang by Simon Singh--I bought this book as a Christmas present for myself this year. In many ways, my science education throughout all my years of schooling was WOEFULLY inadequate, due in large part to the fact that I was raised in a fire-breathing Pentecostal household, and most Pentecostals are terrified of science, all its pomp and all its works. Ergo, I am attempting to educate myself by filling in the gaps I missed. I wish I could buy copies of it for all my family members who are still Pentecostal. But then, I don't really see a point in giving all my relatives something with which they would immediately build one giant, communal bonfire.

9. Olivia Claus by Kama Einhorn and illustrated by Jared Osterhold--This isn't exactly a long-beloved children's classic or anything, but my SuperToddler LOVES Olivia and the book is very cute, so I got it for her. She was thrilled with it when I surprised her with it the morning after I bought it. I believe that Christmas-themed gifts should be given BEFORE Christmas, don't you? Otherwise, you don't have any time to really enjoy them before the season is over for another year!

8. If I could, I would buy my brother the entire Harry Potter series in the most beautiful collector's edition available. There are two reasons why I can't. First, those special editions cost a fortune per book, let alone buying them all in one go. Second, he firmly believes that Harry Potter is of the devil and is a satanic plot to surreptitiously teach children witchcraft under their parents' very noses. (I can't judge him too harshly; I used to believe exactly the same thing.) However, I think he could really get into them and we could have some AWESOME conversations together, if he'd just read them, especially since he's completely nuts for some video games that happen to use magic heavily.

7. Go the F**k to Sleep by Adam Mansbach and illustrated by Ricardo Cortes--I would buy this book for anyone I know who can tolerate the full range of the English language and has a child anywhere between ages 2 and 10. I LOVE the fact that this book is a fully-illustrated, hardback picture book, just like any juvenile literature you see in the library, with the one major exception that it is written to be read ONLY by parents (or those who babysit a lot). This book is hilarious, and I cannot recommend it highly enough for those days when you feel like you are slipping slowly into toddler-induced madness.

6. The Bible--If I sat down and figured it for a while, I'd probably find very few years during which I didn't either give or receive a Bible. What type of Bible depends on a number of factors; one year, Mom wanted a really reliable translation. Another, she wanted to examine the Septuagint more thoroughly. This year, I would be buying for a young friend of mine, a girl my mother and I used to babysit and practically helped raise for the first few years of her life. She's half American and half Brazilian, and is headed to spend a year of her teen-aged life in the South American paradise. She's trying to learn Portuguese in preparation, and I can only say that whenever I've been studying a language, I've always found a Bible to be an ideal study tool--a text with which I am already familiar helps me catch important vocabulary points and idiomatic expressions.

5. The Penderwicks at Point Mouette by Jeanne Birdsall--For years, my mom read to me and my brother when we were kids, and around the time I started college, my parents and I began to experience a role reversal. My dad's advancing diabetes and heart disease, overall deteriorating health, led to his partial blindness. When he could no longer read for himself, I began occasionally reading books aloud to both of them when I was home on vacations. Mom and I were still working our way through the first Penderwicks book when she died. I'd love to be able to read the latest one to her.

4. Regretsy: Where DIY Meets WTF by April Winchell--In the world of handmade crafts, I guess I'm an all-around traitor. I crochet, I'm trying to learn to knit, I make jewelry, I make rosaries--and yet, I love both Etsy AND Regretsy. Apparently, that paradox demonstrates some heinous flaw in my character, but there it is. I was browsing on Amazon one night a few months ago, when I stumbled across this book and laughed so hard I nearly fainted. I'd love to buy copies of it for all my crafty friends, except I'm not sure they would all take it in the spirit in which it was intended. I would give it for fun, but some of them might think I was insinuating something. (For the ones who still crochet toilet paper covers, that's exactly what I'd been doing. Which is why I won't be giving these as gifts, though I really want to.)

3. The Unknown Book--Did you ever read a book in childhood, LOVE it, promptly forget what the title was when you returned it to the library or lost it while moving house, and long to own a new copy of it or give it to someone else as a gift for basically the rest of your life? I have several of these. One was a boardbook I owned and simply adored when I was really young, about a kid looking outside his window to watch the seasons changing outside. Another was a library book about a family who got conned into buying some swamp land, only to find out it was the most magically fertile farming land on Earth, and would grow entire forests overnight and crazy stuff like that. My greatest loss, though, was a children's book about a boy who took a simple cardboard box and piece of string and created forts and castles and all sorts of amazing, imaginary adventures for himself. If you can identify any of these books by the snips I've been able to remember about them, you'll make one book blogger very happy this Christmas!

2. Wreck the Halls: Cake Wrecks Gets "Festive" by Jen Yates--Okay, I think purchasing this book as a Christmas gift definitely wins me the daughter-in-law of the year award. For about two years now, Michael and I have been sharing tidbits from the riotously catastrophic world of Cake Wrecks with his parents, but they've never actually visited the website themselves and still have only a vague idea who we're talking about when we mention Jen and John Yates. How timely, then, that Jen released a book of winter holiday wreckage in time for the Christmas shopping season this year. My in-laws are getting a copy of this book, and whether they enjoy it or not, I think they'll be finer people just for owning such awesome geekery. (In case you're wondering, they don't read my blog, though it would be my luck if they finally start reading it today!)

1. The Hobbit, or There and Back Again by J.R.R. Tolkien--This isn't a book I'm giving or would like to give this year, but is instead an account of my greatest book-giving Christmas triumph to date. By miraculous good fortune, I managed to find the above photograph of the actual edition in question on Goodreads, so when I tell you that a decade ago, I bought my brother a beautiful, slip-covered copy of The Hobbit with runes embossed on the cover, you can see exactly what I'm talking about. My brother has loved Tolkien's Middle Earth for years. He also has the well-deserved reputation of being the best in our entire family and circle of friends at picking exactly the right gift for people. You can imagine my sense of gratification, then, when he was thrilled and floored when he opened THIS present! He was even more shocked when I read the runes on the cover to him. He thought they were one of Tolkien's invented languages, like Quenya. Turns out, Tolkien used the good old Futhark (or actually, the Anglo-Saxon "Futhorc") for his dwarvish written language. I shouldn't have said so, though; to outsiders it would just make one a bigger dork, but among fellow geeks, it practically gives you geek god status if you actually read and speak artificial languages! Qapla'!

Review of "Sherman: The Ruthless Victor"

2011-12-13T01:47:00.000-05:00

Sherman: The Ruthless Victor
by Agostino von Hasell and Ed Breslin

When I finished reading my last book through Thomas Nelson's Booksneeze program, I decided I would choose another in their series of short biographies on American generals. I enjoyed the first of them I'd read, so this seemed a pretty safe bet for a decent read. And yet, there should perhaps have been warning bells going off in my head from the moment I read the subtitle. Perjorative terms like "ruthless" aren't usually whipped out THAT early in the game! Still, I knew to what the authors were referring--Sherman's infamous "burning of Atlanta" and "march to the sea," which were the 19th-century equivalent of the "firebombing of Dresden" during World War II. Everyone pretty much agrees that Sherman's actions were short on military justification and long on overkill, so I just figured the authors were making clear up front that this book was not going to glorify Sherman for those events. Well, it certainly doesn't glorify him!

Those belated alarm bells did start *bonging* quite stridently as soon as I turned to the first page of the Introduction. One of the primary things upon which a good biography depends is creating some sort of rapport between the reader and the biographer's subject. Since the writer is recounting historical events, some attempt at objectivity is expected, but books of this type usually have some shards of sympathy in dealing with the person under study. Not this one. The authors' primary goal seems to be to unite readers with them in loathing and disdaining William Tecumseh Sherman.

I have known of Sherman's exploits in the deep South during the Civil War for many years, so I was never very fond of the man. By the time I finished this book, however, I had become so weary with hearing him denigrated that I found myself becoming one of his most vocal defenders! Page after exhausting page of insults, insinuations and diatribes against him left me with far greater distaste for the authors than for the general.

Time and again, words like "white supremacist" are bandied about, with seemingly no recognition that Sherman simply held the views typical of his time and place, repugnant though they are to a modern reader. The biographers imply more than once that Sherman was mentally unbalanced and descended from a long line of insanity. He is accused of "gratuitous pyromania," being a man of "shallow" "emotional depth," "acute misanthropy," "elitist contempt for 'commoners'," and of "feeling ... sorry for himself" after a Union loss in battle and thinking solely of how the setback would affect his career. He was supposedly "calculating," "[e]gotistical and narcissistic," "wallowing in self-pity" when suffering from depression and anxiety issues, "incapable of withstanding any criticism," "self-congratulatory," "petulant," and given to outbursts of "despotic absolutism". If that list felt unnecessarily long, and you were thinking to yourself halfway through it, "Ok! We get the point! Get on with it already," then I have done my job as a reviewer in giving you the exact experience of reading this book without you having to do so. You can now make up your mind whether or not you think it's worth the time, effort and money to acquire it.

With all that having been said, you may be wondering why I didn't give this book the lowest possible rating. The answer is simple. During the section when the authors were discussing historical events of the Civil War, taking a break from belittling Sherman, I actually learned some interesting things. If there had been a great deal more emphasis on the great conflict throughout the book, it would have been a fascinating read. Also, I always feel that a book has had some merit in my life if it instills curiosity in me to read other books. This one certainly made me want to read some other biographies of Sherman, to see how he fares under another's pen.

Virtual Advent Tour: Finding Santa Claus

2011-12-12T02:51:00.000-05:00

7 years ago today, I embarked on a brand new life, almost a complete departure from everything I had ever known or been taught to believe. After 25 years spent as an extremely fundamentalist and conservative Pentecostal, and after almost a decade of college, the views I had been taught by those two experiences could no longer be reconciled. I believed in Christ, but I did not believe in Pentecostalism, and after a long, hard search fraught with fear and doubt, I found a church where I could belong, and became an Eastern Orthodox Christian. As Christmas had always been my favorite time of year, when my priest asked me on what date I would like to be received into the Church, I said I wanted sometime close to Christmas, and we settled on Sunday, December 12, 2004.

My parents pastored various fundamentalist Pentecostal churches over several decades, and though I didn't know it when I was very small, they firmly believed that Santa Claus had no business sticking his whiskers into Christmas. Vaguely aware that St. Nicholas had been an early Christian bishop, they respected the actual historical figure in so far as they could, but they "didn't believe in bishops," feeling that an episcopal hierarchy smacked of papism. They didn't accept the concept of saints as many Christians embrace them. St. Nicholas was just an all-round problematic figure. They didn't speak of him to me one way or the other when I was very young, not wanting to teach me about "Santa Claus," and yet knowing I had already absorbed the information from the culture around me, so they didn't want to hurt my feelings by digging into the matter too deeply.

When I was four, however, some bright spark who was two or three years older than me saved my parents the trouble, when he got the idea to tell me, "Santa Claus is dead!" I still remember going to my mother in tears, asking her if this was true, and she did her best to explain to a 4-year-old mind the historical facts behind the legend of Santa. It didn't work out too well. Mostly I just remember continuing to cry. A lot. Mom pointed out that I should remember how this felt, so that I wouldn't go around telling other little ones things they weren't yet ready to hear. That message, at least, did sink in--I didn't want to ever do this to anyone else! I spent the next twenty years firmly putting Santa out of my mind, feeling toward him and anyone who taught their kids to believe in him the intense anger that only the betrayed can muster.

Detail of a photo by Michell Zappa

In December 2004, however, Santa Claus and I made peace with each other. My heart melted, and the wound mended. In Orthodox parishes, "Saint Nicholas"--played by a relatively thin male member of the Church dressed in the long robe and pointed miter of a Western bishop--visits the parish children at the church every year. He talks for a few minutes about the love of God in Christ, about the need to be obedient to one's parents and kind to everyone, and then perhaps he will give each child a small treat. During one Sunday morning service, the priest reminded us all that Saint Nicholas would be meeting with the children in the nave (the central area of the church) after service, while the adults were welcome to enjoy coffee in the social hall as always. Unable to help myself, I asked my godmother (the woman who stood with me as I was received into the Church) if it would be alright for me to sneak in the back and watch Saint Nicholas speak to the children. She assured me that would be fine.

What I saw was nothing short of magical. In the small nave, with candles still lit in the vigil lamps before the icons of Christ and His Mother, a figure in red robes entered, his staff in his hand and his miter adding several inches to his height. I knew who he was. I was well aware that he was someone I saw at church every week, wearing a long-used costume. None of that mattered to me in the slightest. A four-year-old girl inside me got Santa Claus back that day, got to meet him, to venerate a great saint of the Church and a bishop who served his people long and faithfully, a man so compassionate and kind that children around the world have loved him, their patron saint, for over 1,700 years. Santa Claus came to visit me. My Church gave me back St. Nicholas. It was one of the happiest, most magical moments of my life.

Photo by Elmar Ersch

Merry Christmas.

5 Colorful Minutes

2011-12-09T02:01:00.001-05:00

(Disclosure: This actually turned out to be 9 minutes worth of writing. I had a lot to say on this one!)

5-Minute Friday is here again ALREADY! My, doesn't the old globe spin round. And our prompt word for today is a personal favorite of mine--color. I love beautiful colors. My SuperToddler loves to color, as much as I ever did, and still do, for that matter. My definitions of colors are still set by the box of Crayolas I used to have, whether they're politically correct or not--Indian red, burnt orange, cadet blue. So, with a word I can truly enjoy to guide me, I dive into today's five minutes of unbroken writing. And...start.

Photo by Shawn Alton

The Christmas we had the year I was four is the first one that I can remember. But then, that Christmas stands out in EVERYONE'S mind in my family. We often refer to it simply as "THE Christmas," the one when everybody managed to have a good fiscal year at once, and the presents stood out so far around the tree that a grown man couldn't REACH the tree without clearing a path through them first! But of course, that was the Christmas at Grandma's house, the big family gathering. It was the smaller Christmas at the parsonage, owned by the church where my dad was the pastor, that established for me the idea that Christmas has a color.

I don't know why or whose idea it was originally, but my parents decided that year that they would have an entirely red Christmas. Red on the tree, red decorating the outside of the house and the big bay window. I remember so clearly, standing in the living room, listening to Dad grunting and tugging and fixing until he got those lights strung and working properly. The whole house seemed red! I even got a beautiful red toybox that year. It seemed like a warm, inviting color, a Christmas atmosphere that conveyed love and merriment and all the things I loved about the season. I wore a red wool dress to Grandma's house for the meal with the extended family, a pretty little dress with green and white stripes and accents. It was a red Christmas all the way around.

Anyone who has had a 15-minute conversation with me can probably tell you that blue is my favorite color, to the point that it might be called a passion or even an obsession. But the other night, as I was driving home from the grocery store, I saw some houses with mostly or all blue Christmas lights on them, and I felt repelled by them somehow. Suddenly I realized--Christmas has a color! At least, it does for me. Christmas should be red, with green and yellow and white and a host of other colors shaded in, but mostly, Christmas is red. That lifelong memory is so indelibly set in my brain that everything about my Christmas feels warmer, brighter and happier with plenty of red attached. Memories like that are the best bridge across miles, decades, and even the gap between Heaven and Earth, to draw your loved ones near to you, no matter how far away they are.

Another Day, Another Reading Challenge

2011-12-08T21:10:00.000-05:00

You know, I think I'm starting to get the hang of this reading challenge thing! The trick is to find the challenges that reward you for doing things you were already going to do, and have always done on a regular basis, anyway! It's like having the tooth fairy leave you gold coins for things like breathing consistently and blinking a lot.

Anyway, I am REALLY excited about this latest challenge. To use a disgusting cliche from some annoying macho movie, the name of which now escapes me, this is the challenge I was BORN to do! As most of you know, it is just possible that I am a wee bit of a raging, hard-core ANGLOPHILE! *composing myself* So, when I discovered the British Books Challenge 2012, I could just have died and gone to Heaven right then. I mean, the abbreviation for this challenge is BBC!! Does anything in a book blogger's life get any more awesome than that? And it turns out, the answer is YES.

For you see, our delightful host at The Overflowing Library assures me that double-dipping is absolutely permitted in this challenge, and let me tell you, I have a LOT of British reads mixed into the pile of my already-overcommitted 2012 challenges! Now, someone is going to let me enter all sorts of awesome giveaways and give me a bunch of pretty challenge buttons just for indulging in one of my favorite strange obsessions--Brit-O-Mania! Life is good.

Here is the list of books I have ALREADY committed to reading next year that were written by British authors.

1. Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging

2. On the Bright Side, I'm Now the Girlfriend of a Sex God

3. Knocked Out by My Nunga-Nungas

4. Dancing in My Nuddy-Pants

5. Away Laughing on a Fast Camel

(all the above by Louise Rennison)

6. The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett

7. Mansfield Park

8. Northanger Abbey

(both by Jane Austen, obviously)

9. Ecclesiastical History of the English People by the Venerable Bede

10. Beowulf

11. History of the Kings of Britain by Geoffrey of Monmouth

12. Le Morte d'Arthur by Sir Thomas Mallory

13. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

14. King Solomon's Mines by H. Rider Haggard

15. Dracula by Bram Stoker

16. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

(Both of the authors immediately above were Irish, but during their lifetimes, Ireland was still a part of the United Kingdom, rather than a separate Republic.)

17. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

(Stevenson was Scottish, but however much I might bemoan the Act of Union, it occurred long before he was born, meaning that while he was not English, he WAS British.)

18. The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells

19. The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

(also Scottish)

20. Arabella by Georgette Heyer

21. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

22. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell

23. The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

24. They Came to Baghdad

25. The Sittaford Mystery

26. Why Didn't They Ask Evans?

27. Death Comes as the End

28. Crooked House

29. Destination Unknown

30. Ordeal by Innocence

31. The Listerdale Mystery

(all by Agatha Christie)

32. Whose Body?

33. Cloud of Witness

34. Unnatural Death

35. Lord Peter Views the Body

36. The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club

37. Strong Poison

38. The Five Red Herrings

39. Have His Carcase

(all by Dorothy L. Sayers)

I told you I was a bona fide, certifiable Anglophile, didn't I? If we include Harry Potter, which I usually re-read at least once a year, I'm very close to the ultimate 50-book level on this challenge. We'll see if I make it to that point, but either way, that's a LOT of British reading. It warms the cockles of my heart just looking at that list.

Photo by Graeme Mclean

Reading for Entertainment?

2011-12-08T01:02:00.003-05:00

Now that's just crazy talk! I know, reading is supposed to be a HOBBY practiced for ENJOYMENT, and yet, somewhere along the way--I suspect college was the prime influence--reading became a means to better one's self, to expand intellectual horizons, and grow as a person, and a whole bunch of other pretentious twaddle that they teach you as a grad student. Reading definitely CAN expand your horizons, and I wish more people in this country would occasionally educate themselves on topics they prefer to simply rant about instead. That doesn't change the fact that everybody needs a little fun in their day; otherwise, we'll all just become pontificating "talking heads."

Photo by Agencia Brasil
Was Noam Chomsky EVER young?

Now, having attempted to justify my own insanity, let me tell you about the latest reading challenges that have sucked me in. Ah, the things we do for the Bonds of Bloggerhood! Or at least, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. What actually happened was that I found out a friend of mine is hosting two challenges, and in reading over her requirements, I realized that I've signed up to read a LOT of very ponderous, heavy, serious material next year, and could use an injection of FUN in my reading. Enter the 2012 Just Contemporary Reading Challenge!

"But wait, there's more!" (A moment of silence, please, in memory of Billy Mays. Ok, done with that now.)

Ashley at Basically Amazing Books is hosting the Just Contemporary Challenge, and is co-hosting the 2012 Award-Winning Reads Challenge along with Jasmine and Jacinda, The Reading Housewives of Indiana. (GO HOOSIERS!) (Sorry; that occasionally pops out of my brain when I'm not looking. My husband swears he may have to shoot himself if IU ever actually gets into the Final Four of March Madness again. But I digress...)

Once upon a time, when I was a rabid fundamentalist, I discovered a wonderful series of YA books by Louise Rennison known as "The Confessions of Georgia Nicolson". If I were to tell you that the first volume of the series is entitled Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging, I think you could understand why I might choose this series as my fun read for 2012! There was only one small problem with my last attempt to read them: something (I'm not even sure what now) offended my delicate fundamentalist sensibilities, and I gave up on it. Now that I am no longer so easily "spooked," I mean to go back to that series and have some fun.

And just in case you were thinking to yourself, "That's all well and good, but what about the other challenge? 'Award-winners' are usually pretty somber reading"--would you believe that Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging actually counts for that challenge, too? It was a Printz honoree. Who said "critically-acclaimed" had to mean "boring"! But, since the sequels were not inducted into such august company, I'll be reading a few other award favorites. The list is as follows:

Just Contemporary Challenge

1. Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging
2. On the Bright Side, I'm Now the Girlfriend of a Sex God
3. Knocked Out by My Nunga-Nungas
4. Dancing in My Nuddy-Pants
(in other words, books #1-4 of "The Confessions of Georgia Nicolson")
5. 13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson

Award-Winning Challenge

1. Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging (Hurray for double-dipping!)
2. The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly (which will be a Victory Garden win!)
3. Where the Mountain Meets the Moon by Grace Lin
4. Princess Academy by Shannon Hale
5. The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart

So, 10 more books? Yep, I'll never get all these books read, will I? Oh, well. I'm just having too much fun choosing books with pretty covers and intriguing titles!

Words Gone Wonky

2011-12-07T14:50:00.000-05:00

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the latest edition of Wondrous Words Wednesday here in Eclectic Land. Today's words are taken from a biography of General William Tecumseh Sherman, a review of which will be appearing here shortly. In the meantime, on to the verbiage.

debouche--"to enter into battle" (What would I do without Wiktionary?)

farrago--is basically a synonym for "hodgepodge". I had heard and seen this word before, but really had no idea what it meant.

metier--(Imagine an accent aigu over the first 'e' in this word, since I don't know how to put one there in Blogger.) And this is where things went wonky. The co-authors of the Sherman biography used this word twice, and the first time, they used it correctly and I learned a new word. It's pretty much the word for a Platonic concept--your calling in life, what you were born and meant to do. The second time they used it, however, they obviously did so without editorial supervision, because the word they meant to use in that particular sentence was "mettle". That's okay, though, because they did eventually use "mettle"--unfortunately, that time, they meant "meddle". It was a long slog through that book, believe me.

I Owe My Soul to Reading Challenges

2011-12-06T22:31:00.000-05:00

People! Have you no pity? No compassion? No milk of human--ok, ok, I'm really just full of it, so I'll stop with the histrionics. While it is true that you all have GOT to stop sharing irresistible reading challenges with me, this one requires me to do absolutely nothing that I wasn't already going to do, so it's basically a freebie with a great challenge badge. What's not to love about that?

It goes like this. Read whatever you read, as much or as little as you please. But make a map on Google Maps, so that you can add one of those cool little pins-in-a-map for each book you read. Every pin reflects where a book is set, or where most of the action takes place. If your hero lives and works in Melbourne, Australia, but flies to London twice on business, your virtual "pin" goes into Melbourne. At the end of the year, you get to look back and see how much of the globe you covered.

Of course, the tricky part of all this is that we'll probably all find ourselves reading books we wouldn't normally read this year, or reading even MORE books than we were already committed to, because we want to expand our coverage! Sneaky, sneaky Book Journey...

Meanwhile, here is the link to my map, though it's currently blank, obviously, since we haven't even GOTTEN to 2012 yet. I'll be reposting it periodically in posts throughout the year, as our host at Book Journey suggests. Check often!

Photo Courtesy of the Minnesota Historial Society

P.S. In the spirit of this challenge, let me just say

Welcome, Zambia and Azerbaijan,

newest countries to visit here at The Beauty of Eclecticism!

Click to Embiggen!

Top 10 Best Childhood Memories

2011-12-06T02:28:00.000-05:00

Oooo, this week's Top 10 Tuesday is a fun one, excellent for a nostalgic time like Christmas. Our friends at The Broke and The Bookish shared with us their 10 favorite books from childhood, and have asked each of us to do the same. I'll tell you a secret little story about my absurd, childhood self. When I was four (which is about where my memories begin), I first began to notice how much of her spare time my mother spent reading. She just seemed to enjoy it so much, and I was desperate to figure out what was the illusive joy of all the squiggles in the books. I remember so vividly the small bookcase that sat in her bedroom, with her boxed set of Laura Ingalls Wilder sitting in the place of honor on it. I actually went to her once, crying because I wanted so badly to learn to read, but convinced that I'd never manage it. Reading just seemed like some magical, exalted art that was surely beyond my young mind! She assured me that I would learn, and as in so many other things, she was right.

10. The Little Green Frog by Beth Combe Harris--Maybe 200 people on this entire planet have heard of this book, and there's a reason for that. I do not look back on this one with unmixed pleasure, because it was part of the curriculum in my radically conservative, fundamentalist Christian school. Those people made my family look like pot-smoking, free-loving, dirt-worshipping tree-huggers (and believe me, we WEREN'T)! Still, this was one of my favorite books as a child, so I've included it as a tribute to my 9-year-old self, who didn't know that she was being obnoxious in the way she expressed some fairly odious opinions. Usually.

9. Little Pilgrim's Progress by Helen Taylor--I LOVED this book, and though it was also included in the aforementioned curriculum, it was a much better book all round (largely because it was just a simplified retelling of the ORIGINAL Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan). It made a book that would've been nearly impossible for a little kid much easier to understand, and I really enjoyed it. (I haven't read it in years, though; it might just annoy me today. Just caveat emptor, there.)

8. Blue Willow by Doris Gates--I adored this book so much when I was young that I made my Mom look through the dishes with me in every thrift store we entered, in the hope of finding something that looked like a Blue Willow Ware plate. I'll confess to you that I don't even remember what it's about now--something to add to my re-read pile! Yay!

7. The Hundred Dresses by Eleanor Estes, illustrated by Louis Slobodkin--Trust me, the information about who illustrated this book is quite important; together, words and images left me in a rapture of joy and a blubbing mess simultaneously when I reached the end of this poignant story. I don't want to give spoilers, but let's just say that I spent a lot of time dreaming of owning things I could never afford when I was a little girl.

6. Black Beauty by Anna Sewell--"The first place that I can well remember..." Those are the opening words of this book, and when you hear it performed on audio cassette by Haley Mills, the true Britishness of the work leaves an indelible mark on your impressionable young mind. Like Uncle Tom's Cabin and other great books intended to prick the conscience of their readership, this book is not for the faint of heart, and now that I think back on it, I'm really surprised that this is considered a children's book, because in many ways, it is not at all. It was meant to illuminate the appalling conditions under which many working animals lived in Britain at the time, and it certainly did a good job! Still, I loved the stories of proud Black Beauty and sweet, patient little Merrylegs. If you're such a great animal lover that you think you wouldn't be able to bear to read this one, just think of it this way--read it and constantly think to yourself how glad you are this stuff doesn't go on that much anymore!

5. Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie--I first encountered this childhood classic by means of the audiobook, and I enjoyed it thoroughly, even though some of its Victorian English puzzled me at times. I could still appreciate adventures and dangers and sword fights and pretend games. I remain determined to read the rest of them some day. (Oh! You didn't KNOW there was more than one Peter Pan book by Barrie? Well, there are; check 'em out!)

4. Mary Poppins by P.L. Travers--I was a little older when I read this series, in my teens, but I lapped up every word just the same. When P.L. Travers left the theater after attending the world premiere of Walt Disney's film adaptation of her books, a reporter asked her what she thought of it, and she said with a rather sardonic smile, "Oh, let me be silent." I was a bit taken aback the first time I heard about that, but after reading the books, I felt I understood her reticence a lot better. As if this needs to be said again--the books are ALWAYS better!

3. Joseph by Joyce Landorf--A truly odd one thrown in the mix here, yet the first time I read this book, I was eleven, and I think it really helped fan the flames of my obsession with Egyptology. My mother would absolutely have fainted if she had known about the steamier scenes in this book! I have to laugh to think back about it now. It really wasn't anything more than, "Boy and girl admit they are heterosexual, and therefore attracted to each other. Extended kissing. Fade to curtains blowing in window on a lovely summer's evening." Still--I was ELEVEN! This was major-league action to my young mind! Believe it or not, that was NOT the main attraction for me, though. (I know; you don't believe it.) It's true! This is actually a pretty well-crafted story. And it brought ancient Egypt alive for me in a way that nothing ever had before at that young age. I include it on this list because it demonstrates that I've ALWAYS been eclectic, and that "age-appropriate" has always been one of my LEAST favorite phrases.

2. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery--*Sigh* OMG, what is there to say about my beloved ANNE?! She was the heroine of my childhood, the first time I discovered that there were other girls like me in the world--you know, nerdy girls who like to read more than they like to play with dolls, and who occasionally act like outlandish tomboys instead of prim young ladies. I never COULD get the hang of being a "young lady." I was too busy arguing with boys and playing with Hot Wheels. Anne was proof positive that you could do all those things, and still get married and have a bigillion kids. She rocked then, and she rocks now--the 19th-century Hermione Granger.

1. Charlotte's Web by E.B. White--It really is hard to believe that any book could outrank Anne for the coveted spot of 1st place, but for me, this was "the one that started it all," as they say. My second grade teacher read it aloud to us, and I completely fell in love with the story of Fern--another tomboy--and her most unlikely pet. I borrowed my brother's copy of it, re-read it so many times that the cover fell off, and never did give it back to him. (I think I still owe you a copy of Charlotte's Web, brother of mine, if you'd like me to buy you one.) It was one of the first books that I ever managed to read by myself, and I read it about once every six months for the next five years or so. It launched a life of reading; the teacher who read it to me launched a life of teaching. Books can do amazing things.

My 1st Author Interview!

2011-12-05T17:08:00.000-05:00

Yes, fellow Eclectics, the moment you've all been waiting for has arrived! I am thrilled to be able to bring you this interview with author Alisa Harris, whose book Raised Right: How I Untangled My Faith from Politics received such a glowing review from me in recent weeks that I felt I simply had to call her and request an interview! She very graciously accepted, and has even provided copies of her book for a GIVEAWAY, about which I am also quite excited. Now, without further ado, why don't we let Ms. Harris speak for herself.

Welcome, Alisa! Thank you so much for joining us. Regular readers of this blog have already received a brief introductio to you and to the book, but could you summarize the concept of the book and tell us a bit more about yourself?

As a bellicose young culture warrior, I saw Republican politics as the expression of my faith. My understanding of Christianity was limited to my belief in the gospel of limited government, and my spiritual battles were waged against feminists and environmentalist nut-jobs. When I met people who didn't fit into my caricatures and began to wrestle with the moral complexities of the world, I began the process of separating my faith from Republican politics.

What were the primary factors that drove you to write this book? Did you feel you had a message that needed to be conveyed?

I wanted to speak to young Christians who were beginning to doubt that culture war politics held the answers to public problems—Christians who were beginning to wonder if the answers to their doubts and questions were as simple as James Dobson and Ann Coulter would have them believe. I also wanted to speak to the parents of those young people and give them a window into their own children’s minds. It was always difficult to communicate with my parents on politics when my views started to shift, and I wanted this book to explain myself to them.

As I read the book, I felt that there was a certain tone of repentance or regret for attitudes you once held or ways in which you expressed them. Would you say that is an accurate impression?

I do regret the attitudes I once held, especially the fear and suspicion I had towards people who believed differently. Of course, fear and suspicion exists on both sides of the political spectrum, and today I try to guard against that suspicion and strive instead to understand and respect the people I disagree with. That said, I do look with some affection toward my fervent, idealistic younger self. I would love to keep that passion and optimism.

What was the journey toward getting published like for you? Did you find it difficult to get the process started?

I was contacted by an agent who read my writing and wondered if I was interested in writing a book. I wasn’t ready then but I contacted him later and he guided me through the book proposal process. I found that the process moved much more quickly than I expected! I had written only the book proposal when I got the contract to write the book, so I had to finish the book and then make revisions while working full time and getting married, too. It was a busy year.

You have said that you are certainly still a Christian, but no longer identify yourself as an Evangelical. Yet Raised Right was published by WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group, most of whose releases are pretty traditionally Evangelical. Have you and the publisher found yourselves at odds at times, or unable to see eye-to-eye?

Of course, publishers and authors always go into the process with different ideas of what the final product will be, and that was definitely true of this book. It was challenging, at times, to reconcile those visions and to come to an agreement when they conflicted. The main issue for me was writing for an audience that I am no longer a part of, and I think my editor helped me see what those readers would expect and how I could be most persuasive. But it was sometimes difficult using evangelical language and tropes the way I did, and there were moments where I had to stop and ask, 'Is this really me?' or 'Can I speak this language honestly'?

This book contains a series of vignettes illustrating the process of your changing views. However, can you point to one moment or incident in your life when you first began to question things you had always believed?

If I had to point to one moment, I think it would be in my early teens when I wrestled with the idea of pacifism and the morality of war. I simply could not reconcile war with the biblical injunctions, “Thou shalt not kill” and “Turn the other cheek.” I felt we had to stop evil people from killing the innocent in their pursuit of power, but I could not reconcile this ugly reality with what Jesus taught. This was the first time that I grappled with an issue where the moral answer was not at all clear to me, and I began to wonder if my political leaders had the right answers. It was the first time I encountered an issue where I couldn’t neatly squish Christianity’s otherworldly values into our earthly political system.

You make it clear towards the end of the book that you do still occasionally participate in political events. What is your view of the current Occupy Wall Street movement, or do you really have an opinion on the matter?

I actually attended an Occupy Wall Street march recently and I do support the movement. It’s easy for professional pundits to criticize their messaging or their methods, but I think their message is clear: we now live in an oligarchy where a few wealthy people hold all the power and resources, and this is wrong. Our democracy is ailing, and I’m glad that people are finally angry about it.

It is obvious that you were not a fan of “Separation of Church and State” when you were younger. Where do you stand on that issue now? The approaching holidays always bring complications on this score, especially regarding public Christmas displays and Christmas carols sung in public schools. Do your opinions about these matters differ widely from what they were when you were an Evangelical?

Let’s just say that yelling at people for saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas” is not likely to make them want to join our faith. The Founders believed that in a lively democracy, each religion could compete equally on its own merits without help from the state. I think we need to reclaim that idea. A nativity display and a Ten Commandments monument are simply symbols—symbols that lose all their original religious significance when we use them as proxies in our culture wars. I wish both sides would stop attaching so much mystical power to these symbols and begin a lively, respectful conversation about religion instead—one with words and arguments and actions that represent religion lived out in its best form.

Lastly, is there anything that you would change about the book now if you were just beginning to write it today? What one message would you like to leave with your readers?

I wish I had clarified where I stand on certain issues now, like gay marriage for instance. I left some of those issues opaque because I didn’t want to turn the book into a political platform, but I think I could have been more blunt while still keeping the focus on broader issues of faith.

I would like to leave my readers with the message that it’s not our responsibility to turn America into a Christian nation but to be Christians ourselves—live lives of compassion and love toward the people near us. Sometimes this will mean going out in the public square and speaking on behalf of those people when they experience injustice or their human dignity is violated, but it also means meeting their physical needs and sharing their burdens. Our ultimate mission is not to legislate behavior but to lay down our lives for others.

That is a beautiful statement of the intentions of the Founder of our faith. Thank you, and thank you so much for visiting us here on the blog.

Before I go, it is time to announce the names of the lucky readers who will each receive a FREE copy of Raised Right, courtesy of Ms. Harris and her publisher, WaterBrook Multnomah.

~Cassandra @ Adventist Homemaker~

~Miss B @ B's Book Blog~

~Amanda @ Dead White Guys~

If you will each email me a postal address, the books will soon be wending their way to your door. Congratulations to you all!

My Wassailing Inbox

2011-12-04T19:22:00.001-05:00

(Yeah, I know; the title of this post... What can I say? I have a SuperToddler. We watch "A Claymation Christmas" A LOT around here. A LOT.)

ANYway, my Christmas-y little Inbox had a rather exciting week (and frankly, that was a happy thing, since this was a pretty sad week for me overall). Without further ado, the newest inbox inhabitants are as follows.

FOR REVIEW:

The Dragons of Chiril
by Donita K. Paul

Did YOU know that there is now a Christian Fantasy subgenre?! Because this was a new one on me. Last I knew, the Evangelical community--and therefore their publishers--were still heavily frowning on this sort of thing, denouncing Harry Potter, all his pomp and all his works. But it exists now, and has for a while, and this book will be my first foray into it. Good or bad, it should at the very least be INTERESTING.

The Magic Room: A Story About the Love We Wish for Our Daughters (ARC)
by Jeffrey Zaslow

The eponymous "magic room" here is the fitting room at a bridal gown shop. I'm hoping this one will be a nice, fluffy read, and informative, since I definitely did not have the cash--or the patience--to go that route for my own wedding.

WON:

Yes, I won a HUGE giveaway this week, and am REALLY excited about it! Maria Grazia at Fly High held a giveaway of Katherine Ashe's four-volume historical fiction series about Simon de Montfort, a collossal figure in medieval English history, and I WON! I LOVE books about medieval England, fiction, non-fiction and everything in between, so I was thrilled to find out I'd won these, and my Kindle got four books richer, which is ALWAYS a good thing.

So, the rest of my week kind of sucked, but my Inbox had a stellar time of it, which perked my own days up considerably. Hope yours filled up, too!

Reading Challenges! Aaugh!!!

2011-12-04T00:23:00.001-05:00

I'm telling you, a poor defenseless reading challenge addict doesn't stand a chance in this blogger-eat-books world. People keep throwing challenges in front of me on their blogs about books or authors that I've been determined to get around to for YEARS! And so, here are not one, but THREE more. However, I'm trying to minimize the damage, so each of these only has a one-book requirement. I mean, you're welcome to do more if you like, but who has time? 2012 won't start for another month, and I've already got it more than spent before I ever get it!

Latest Challenge #1: Anne Rice

See, here's the thing about me and Anne Rice. I've only read three of her books, and I either fall madly in love with them or passionately hate them. I have no Anne Rice middle ground--not sure why that is. Anyway, I'm signing up for the wussiest level that our host at The Towering Pile has provided us, and technically only have to read one book. I've chosen Angel Time, the first in Rice's "The Songs of the Seraphim" series. If this turns out to be one of the ones I love, I'll probably read its sequel. If I hate it, I'll say so in my review and move on to something else. Challenge complete, no harm, no foul.

Latest Challenge #2: Laura Ingalls Wilder

You have NO IDEA how many times I have set myself the task of reading Farmer Boy, the second book in the "Little House" series, and have never gotten past the first chapter. For some reason, I've never been able to get into this one! I think I just prefer books that are centered around Laura because she reminds me so much of myself: mousy brown hair, strong desire to do what's right, bad-ass attitude that keeps getting in the way of that. She's much more fun than any of the other characters--well, her and "Pa." They have spunk. They have secret desires to smack people. They get bloody sick and tired of being good. I like them. But Almonzo isn't squeeky clean, either. I'm determined to get through HIS book this year! Hopefully, joining in with this challenge on Stray Thoughts will keep me motivated to do it.

Latest Challenge #3: Discworld

I have been determined to read more of Terry Pratchett ever since I discovered my first Wee Free Men novel, entitled aptly enough, Wee Free Men. I ADORE the Nac Mac Feegles, but since Pratchett writes a lot more Feegle-free novels than he does books about tiny, adorable and totally untrustworthy blue men, I think it's time I branched out. I've had a copy of the first in the Discworld series, The Colour of Magic, sitting on my Kindle waiting for me ever since my birthday. Time to jump into the insanity that is Pratchett's handmade world. Thank you Hannah at Once Upon a Time for daring me to do so.

In Memoriam

2011-12-02T21:28:00.000-05:00

"In the wee small hours"of this morning, the woman who taught me to love Christmas with a pure, unrelenting joy died. From her, I learned that Christmas, one of the holiest of holy hours, is genuinely a magical time, when the world puts on its best self, and transforms even its humblest aspects into beauty. My grandmother was not a doyenne of gracious living. She was not wealthy, not an intellectual, not a trend-setter. Her chief visual aids in teaching me a life-long reverence for Christmas were twinkling lights slathered on every flat surface, and numerous bags of Fiberfill, spread around cute little village scenes all over the house, playing the part of a gargantuan snowfall.

Grandma grew up as the skinny, spindle-legged daughter of poor farmers. Both her parents worked the fields of land someone else owned like an unstoppable team of Clydesdales. Even pregnant with twins, my great-grandmother put in a full day's work at her husband's side just to feed their family which would eventually include 8 children. My grandmother was the oldest, and she was a surrogate mother to her younger siblings while their parents sweated through the merciless Kentucky summers.

All eight of those children wore clothing made from old feed sacks. They had one new pair of shoes each year. Grandma was 13 years old the first time she saw an indoor toilet--the flushing of which scared her so badly that she went shrieking down the hallway! For them, Christmas meant one piece of candy and perhaps one homemade toy each; some years, it was basically just another day. But their mother always made sure that something nice happened for Christmas, that in some way, the day made a positive impact on their little minds that would stay with them the rest of their lives. When Grandma was living in very different conditions--what might as well have been a different lifetime--with four children, many grandchildren, a snug little eclectrified house with a telephone and plenty of hot and cold running water, she made Christmas her own personal wonderland, and selflessly offered it to each of us, too.

My grandmother filled every inch of her world with beauty, and that beauty spilled out onto the surprised and delighted people around her. She made beautiful flower arrangements, that helped others celebrate their joys, and mourn their losses with dignity and quiet strength. No one could meet her without eventually smiling before the conversation ended. She never met a person who was beneath or outside of her compassion, her mercy and love for complete strangers. If ever I saw the face of God through the behavior of another human being, it was in hers. The meek and poor in spirit can claim Earth and the Kingdom of Heaven as their own, and that is as it should be; they are the only people who will be eager to freely share it with the rest of us once they own it.

5 Tired Minutes

2011-12-02T04:04:00.001-05:00

Another Friday. My gosh, I was just enjoying the post-Thanskgiving, overfed haze of having my husband off work practically all week a second ago, wasn't I? And now Thanksgiving was over a week ago, and Christmas is barrelling toward me at a furious pace. But, this IS another Friday, and it's time once again for 5-Minute Friday, a weekly meme of The Gypsy Mama, in which I pause from the rest of life and write, unscripted, without "repetition, hesitation or deviation," for a solid 5 minutes. The prompt word for this week is "Tired." It's very apt just at this moment. It's almost 1:00 AM, I've been doing blog work for hours, and this is the last task of a day that has already ended before I can vegetate for a while and then get some sleep. So I'm tired, and in that apropos spirit, I begin at 12:45.

I have always hated the *BLARING* sound of an alarm clock with a poweful, burning, seething, all-consuming passion. When I was a little girl--and even into my teenage years--I would sometimes be mercifully woken up by my father, who knew I hated the alarm, and would give me the dignity of being awakened by a gentle voice and a loving embrace instead. I would lean on his shoulder, still half-asleep, until he insisted that it was time for me to begin the day's preparations for school.

I don't think I ever REALLY knew tired until I experienced depression and post-traumatic stress disorder (which often go hand-in-hand). Everything felt like a monstrous chore, an overwhelming task--I wanted to go back to bed just thinking about getting up, showering and going out to face the world. And in those moments of preternatural tiredness, I thought to myself, "Am I just broken beyond repair?"

Photo by Eric Hill

But in perfect tiredness comes perfect peace. The ability to rest on the Father's shoulder and just admit to myself that I have nothing under control and "He's got the whole world in His hands," including me. I'm tired. Bone-weary, heart-sick tired. Of funerals. Of illnesses. Of emergencies. Of disasters. But when I'm that utterly spent, I'm also in the perfect place to follow Corrie ten Boom's life-changing advice--"Don't wrestle. Just nestle."

Literature (n.) Um...

2011-12-02T02:25:00.000-05:00

Welcome to another installment of the Literary Blog Hop, a delightful and thought-provoking meme in which our hosts at The Blue Bookcase challenge us to think and write intelligently about literature. I don't know if I'll succeed in that lofty goal, but we'll give it a shot. (Confession: Since my answer to the prompt question this month could be considered controversial, I deliberatelty waited until after I'd written this post to read anyone else's posts for the month. If I sound like I'm directly echoing someone else, or challenging someone else, please know that it was entirely unintentional.)

This month, we're discussing how to interest the "anti-literature" camp in our favorite supergenre. What do you recommend to the person who says they "don't like 'literature'?"

Photo by Tom Murphy VII

I once had a literature professor in college who assigned us a reading by John Ruskin, just so we could see what BAD literature was like. And told us so! Let's face it--some of what people consider "literature" deserves to be disliked. If all this person can see in her mind when she hears the term is deathly boring tripe written by dead people, it's hardly surprising that she's not interested. I think we have to shake up people's understanding of what literature is a little bit. (In this respect, I find the definition that the Blue Bookcasers themselves give quite useful, and I can do no better than to paraphrase it.) "Literature" is meant to denote a written work that will outlast many of its peers not because it is a real page-turner--though that certainly helps--but because it is in some way ground-breaking, challenging, eye-opening. It doesn't have to have been written in a previous century to be good literature.

Perhaps one of the best ways to demonstrate this is to recommend a book that your "non-literary" friend wouldn't expect to hear you call "literature". I hold degrees in both linguistics and English, and one thing I've learned is that average human beings never give themselves enough credit for being rational. Native speakers of English often say things like, "Oh, I don't speak good English, or at least, I don't speak it properly." A perfectly constructed, grammatically correct English sentence about how a person who has spoken English since infancy doesn't speak her own language! It's quite possible that people who enjoy reading, yet say they "don't like literature," aren't giving themselves enough credit for making good book choices, and aren't crediting their favorite authors with the ability to craft a literary novel.

17th-Century Portrait of Geoffrey Chaucer

Now, am I suggesting that Debbie Macomber's or Richard Paul Evans' works be considered great literature? Hardly. I like Debbie Macomber, but I wouldn't vote for her stuff to appear in the next Norton Anthology of American Literature. However, the ability to distinguish "literature" from "a good yarn" has a lot to do with simply getting some education on the subject, and sometimes, people read books with "literary merit" without knowing they've done so. Really good authors can slip the "literature" inside an ooey-gooey delicious coating of fluff and have many of their readers never be the wiser, like parents slathering their children's broccoli with cheese sauce. Even readers who sat through entire semesters on Chaucer, Shakespeare and Dante--which I did--can dive into these books and enjoy the literary merit, or not, as they choose.

Which brings me to my actual answer to this question. If a friend of mine who loved to read said she couldn't stand "literature," my immediate response would be, "Ever read Harry Potter?"

Leaving aside all those who think Harry Potter is the Spawn of Satan, and those who just can't stand fantasy fiction, the majority of responses would probably be something along the lines of, "Yeah, but that's technically for kids, isn't it? I liked it, even though I'm an adult, but I felt kind of funny about that." Or else, "Oh, they were awesome, but I'd hardly call that literature, would you?!"

To which I would respond, "That's EXACTLY what I'd call it, and there's a reason that so many adults liked those 'children's' books."

I may get major argument on this one, but in her Harry Potter series, J.K. Rowling encapsulated many of the most fundamental literary tropes in the Western canon--the archetypal mother (Lily), the voice of wisdom and reason (Hermione), the hero of epic (guess who?). Hermione's like a one-woman Greek chorus, for heaven's sake, except that the hero actually hears her and stops doing some stupid things!

A Brownie

More importantly, Rowling touched on some of the oldest human themes ever known, dating back far before anyone discussed the narrative arc of exposition, complication and denoument. Harry Potter is the messiah figure who in turn is simply the dying god of the world's most ancient religions--some of which are still living and are now MODERN religions. Moreover, no one can dispute that in the Wizarding World, we have a narrative vehicle that is unique, a structure that adds to the scope of human expression and therefore has literary merit in and of itself. Within that vehicle, this series is bursting with references to classical and medieval folklore. Unlike many of its modern fantasy, pulp fiction cousins, however, Harry Potter does not twist those classic human imaginings into new and unrecognizable shapes to make them convenient plot devices. In fact, Rowling challenges us to find out what many of these creatures used to mean to our ancient or medieval forebears. Were you aware that if you left clothes out for fairies/brownies, they would take offense and leave your house? I didn't know that my European ancestors believed that, until reading Harry Potter made me decide to research it.

Obviously, this is only a starting point, but it is a VALID starting point, and if my "anti-literature" friend said she'd never read any of them, I would send her off to the bookstore with stern orders to not let her head hit the pillow that night until she'd at least read "Chapter 1--The Boy Who Lived". It would be the first step toward preparing her to discuss Christ, Mithras, Osiris and Horus, as well as the works of Joseph Campbell and Edith Hamilton. If she revealed that she was a Potter maniac, I would then say, "Excellent! How about we read Beowulf or The Odyssey together now? If you liked Harry Potter, you just might love one of those two!"

Holly, Jolly December!

2011-12-01T19:04:00.000-05:00

My goodness! Exciting stuff is brewing here in the Land of Eclecticism. With so many big things to announce, I decided an entire post was in order, just to fill you in on the latest doings. Mark your Advent calendars for all of the following!

December 5th--My 1st Author Interview and Giveaway!

Regular readers will know how impressed I was with a book called Raised Right (click to read my review), to which I gave 5 stars and an absolutely glowing recommendation. This memoir of an American Evangelical Fundamentalist who was forced to expand her understanding of life and its complexities demonstrates introspection without excuse. It is often entertaining and witty, always engaging, but brutally frank, and for three of you lucky readers, it will be yours--FOR FREE! Ms. Harris and her publisher have graciously provided copies, and I'll be choosing the winners at random. SO, be sure to enter the giveaway by leaving a comment, because a glance at the date on this post will tell you that this event is coming up SOON!

December 12th--2011 Virtual Advent Tour

I think this is just an awesome idea. Kailana and Marge, our delightful hosts for the Advent Tour of blogs, have created a special way for many of us to share our special Advent memories, traditions and favorites with our fellow (book)bloggers. At the link above, you'll find a schedule of who will be posting each day with a link to each site. My chosen date is December 12, and I hope you'll all stop in to talk a little holiday schmaltz with me.

December 29th--My 1st Book Tour!

Thanks to the awesome folks at BlogHer and Penguin Publishing, I get to be a part of the marketing tour for Jeffrey Zaslow's The Magic Room, an ARC of which was delivered into my eager little hands to day, and which will hit the shelves in January 2012. I'm really looking forward to this one, and hope you'll join us. The Magic Room is about the joys, perils and pitfalls of that place now made legendary by shows like TLC's "Say Yes to the Dress"--the dressing room where a bride-to-be searches for her perfect gown. Honestly, it's an experience I didn't have, for a number of personality and budget reasons, but I'm eager to read about it, since I'm as ~~nosy~~ curious as the next girl! Besides, I love weddings like everyone else does; it's that joy we all feel for events that affirm life.

That's all the major news at the moment, and that's plenty, surely! It's going to be an exciting December, and I hope you'll all come along with me for the adventures. Nothing like bookish events to top off your holiday preparations, whatever holiday you're preparing for.

December 2011

2011-12-01T02:53:00.001-05:00

Photo by Kris De Curtis

Welcome, one and all, to the Christmas edition of the "Read Your OWN Library!" Challenge. What's so Christmas-ish about this particular installment? Well, this is December, and isn't this picture of a Christmas ornament beautiful? So there you go.

For those who are new to this perpetual challenge, we're thrilled to have you along! Please tell us a little about how you got buried so deeply beneath your own library of unread books. Let us know which level of the challenge you're signing on for, and which book you're requiring yourself to finish before December gives way to 2012. Henceforward, you can link up a new post at the beginning of each month, reporting how you did, and what you'll read next. Returning readers, welcome back! How did November go, and what are you planning on reading in December?

As for me, I squeaked my way through my assigned book for November--a non-fiction work on Egyptology called Red Land, Black Land--with only hours to spare before I ran out of November in which to read it. I DID conquer it, however, and it now lies in my Victory Garden. I must confess, I feel pretty pleased with myself. You can read my full review of the book here, but the short version is that I really enjoyed it, and recommed it to anyone who is interested in ancient Egypt. If that very specific subfield of non-fiction isn't a major fascination for you, then you might want to skip this one.

Regarding my required reading for December: I don't know about you, but there's quite a lot going on in my non-internet life as well as in my corner of the blogosphere this month! I think a little good old-fashioned double-dipping is the order of the day. I'm going to rely on my book from The Christmas Spirit Reading Challenge--The Chimes, by Charles Dickens--which also meets the requirements of "Read Your OWN Library," so isn't that helpful? Can't wait to hear from you all!

Review of "Red Land, Black Land"

2011-11-30T23:22:00.001-05:00

Red Land, Black Land

by Barbara Mertz (aka Elizabeth Peters aka Barbara Michaels)

Yes, I finally finished this book! After some five years. And it did NOT "go gently into that good night," let me tell you. Don't get me wrong; I really enjoyed this book. I just mean that Red Land, Black Land makes you fight for it every sentence of the way; this book is not fluff, and your attention can't waver if you want to keep up with what's going on.

I love Barbara Mertz, and have ever since I stumbled upon my first Amelia Peabody mystery novel. Murder mysteries set during the dawn of European Egyptology, written by an actual modern Egyptologist! Forget "What's not to love?" We can now move straight to "I can die happy!" So when I discovered that my favorite sleuth-maker had written a duo of non-fiction Egyptology books, I had to own and read them. I flew through Temples, Tombs and Hieroglyphs, as I imagine most readers did; it's an unrepentant orgy of all things pharaonic and monumental that still exist of ancient Egypt, all those things that stand out as most flashy and memorable in peoples' minds. Red Land, Black Land is sort of the antidote to all that, covering the little we can reliably say we know about every aspect of the average ancient Egyptian's life.

This book really does have a very slow start, and I'm not surprised that it took me a couple of tries to get into it. It's definitely worth it, though; even the beginning material is interesting--if you like Egyptology, anyway--it just feels rather haphazardly arranged, which is why it took me a little while to settle in to Mertz' style of organizing her topics. It's a riveting read, once you're into it, though, and well-illustrated with line drawings of Egyptian art. The author makes no secret of the fact that she doesn't know the definitive answers to a number of questions laymen often ask. Indeed, she reveals that NO Egyptologist can answer all those questions; I don't doubt that some of her colleagues weren't too thrilled with her! She baldly announces that most learned scholarly theories are at best just the considered guess of an intelligent person. This is actually one of the most satisfying aspects of the book--Mertz' legendary caustic wit created some priceless one-liners here.

I've been a (decidedly amateur) armchair Egyptologist for years, so much of what Mertz had to say only built on things I've been reading about for years, or brought me up to date on theories that have changed or been rejected since I last read about them. The only thing I wonder about this book is whether it would be that useful for the true beginner who knows nothing about the topic at all, but is just curious. I think a little bit of previous background would be useful, though just reading the first of the pair of books before reading this one might be enough. Barbara Mertz does an excellent job of avoiding overcomplication; Egyptology is just an inherently complex subject.

Pharaonic Words

2011-11-30T21:08:00.001-05:00

This Wondrous Words Wednesday post was supposed to go up SO MUCH EARLIER in the day. Sorry, all; I got wrapped up in the unbelievable drama of watching police herd American citizens through the streets of LA last night, and time got completely away from me.

ANYWAY, all my words today come from the Egyptological tome Red Land, Black Land, by famous Egyptologist and novelist Barbara Mertz, of the beloved nom de plume Elizabeth Peters. Ever read an Amelia Peabody mystery? If not, you simply MUST; they're fabulous. All my words come from only one book this time--which is unusual for me--because I am trying desperately to meet the requirements of my own "Read Your OWN Library!" challenge and finish it before midnight tonight. At this particular moment, my hopes are not that high, but Goonies never say die!

1. corbel--Basically: ever seen a shelf with a bracket built into the bottom of it to hold it up? The bracket piece underneath is a corbel.

2. serdab--I'm happy to finally know what the name for this is, since I've seen pictures of them many times, and even saw a real one in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. (I LOVE the MET!!) In Old Kingdom ancient Egypt, tombs contained a walled-up room with a tiny viewing window built into it, through which one could see a statue of the deceased. That room is called a serdab.

3. shank's mare--Had any of you ever heard of this before?! It was certainly a new one for me. All it means is to walk, the implication being that you're having to travel a long way on foot. "Some places could only be reached by water, and boats were a lot more comfortable than donkey back or shank's mare."

4. exogamy--I had never encountered this term, but it made perfect etymological sense once I saw it. An exogamous marriage is basically just a "mixed" marriage--marrying outside one's own race, religion, tribe, whatever you parents told you never to do and thereby made a whole bunch of new people groups look like a really attractive place to find a mate.

5. soi-disant--This one is clearly French. It means "self-styled," as in, to give oneself a nickname, epithet or title.

6. peripteral--Lots of architectural terms in this book. This one means, according to Wiktionary, "surrounded by a single row of columns."

7. clerestory--More architecture. Clearly, this one sounds like it's related to "cloister," at least to me. "[T]he upper part of a wall containing windows to let in natural light to a building, especially in the nave, transept and choir of a church or cathedral".

So, there are my words for the week. And I DID get the book finished! (I always forget to check how much of the remaining content is index and bibliography when I'm reading an e-book.)

December's Nightstand

2011-11-27T23:18:00.000-05:00

First things first: Welcome, Thailand and Finland! The newest countries on my blog world map.

Now then, on to the latest news bulletin from my ever-messy nightstand. Looking back over last month's post, I can report some success. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes eventually submitted to my determined efforts, as you can see in my review by clicking on the title. Likewise, I finished Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix--again!--and have plunged straight ahead into the next, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I haven't much time to work on it at present, though, because I'm neck-deep in other things for reading challenges. Chief among those being Red Land, Black Land, which I'm reading feverishly because I'm supposed to have it done by December 1st for my own "Read Your OWN Library!" Challenge. I'm over half-way through it now, though, and utterly captivated, so no worries about not finishing it this time, like my former failed attempt. At present, however, it is STILL prominently displayed on my nightstand.

The newest addition is my copy of three of Charles Dickens' famous Christmas Books, i.e. A Christmas Carol, The Chimes and The Cricket on the Hearth. Obviously, these are my chosen holiday reads for December, which I'm reading for The Christmas Spirit Reading Challenge. I have already completed the first of these (click above for review), and as soon as I finish with the Egyptological tome mentioned above, they will be my constant study until I finish this challenge--with some Sherlock Holmes thrown in for variety.

My Tiny Little Inbox

2011-11-27T01:58:00.000-05:00

I only got one book to report on this week. I confess, that makes me feel just a bit sorry for myself. Wait! This is actually an omnibus volume, so I really got FOUR books this week! There now; I feel better already. Anyway, let me just say that I'm getting VERY impatient for one of the publishers for whom I review to get SOMETHING available that I have even a remote interest in reading; their failure to do so is cutting into my supply! I finally gave up waiting on one of the others, and just requested something of theirs that I wouldn't normally read at all. That's probably healthy for me, though; it helps broaden my horizons. It hasn't arrived yet, but at least I'll have something to write about next Sunday.

SO, enough grousing. With the arrival this week of The Betsy-Tacy Treasury: The First Four Betsy-Tacy Books, I now have the entire Betsy-Tacy series by Maud Hart Lovelace. Once again, this is a Christmas present I ordered for myself, which means that it will be wrapped and opened at the proper time, so I can't read it now. That's just as well, however, since I've got two Christmas books to read before January 6th, and I'm also hoping to finish my requirements for The Regency and Victorian Challenge as soon as possible, in order to start off fresh on the challenges of 2012. My friends Betsy, Tacy and Tib will have to wait a while for me to come play on the Big Hill.

Do You Speak Quote? (2)

2011-11-26T17:43:00.000-05:00

It's a quiet, lazy Saturday afternoon, which is perfectly lovely. Good Man Michael is sitting in his recliner, Brigid the SuperToddler is watching the 80's classic "A Claymation Christmas"-- AAAAAGGGGGAAAAAIIIINNNNN!--and I'm computer multitasking. Guess what? I'm bored!! And we all know what THAT means! Time for another installment of the semi-regular feature around here, "Do You Speak Quote?" I give you a quote, you give me your best guess as to the source, and somebody gets a free (VERY gently used) book. (One owner. Low mileage. Only read once. That kind of thing.) Are you ready?

In which book would you see someone referred to as being "of the race that knows Joseph"? Hint: the answer is NOT the Bible, or any book of the Bible. Leave your answer in the comments, and invite your friends to do the same. Good luck!

Review of "A Christmas Carol"

2011-11-26T15:35:00.000-05:00

Oh, good grief! How can anyone still offer a review of "A Christmas Carol", as if this story hasn't been done to freakin' death?! Yeah, I know. But I read it for The Christmas Spirit Reading Challenge, and my policy is, if I read it, I get to review it. Especially a book that I have this much history with. It was fascinating to compare my view of it now with what I remembered of it from having last read it when I was about 11.

A Christmas Carol

by Charles Dickens
(Completely useless side note: Did you know the man had 10 children?!)

Do we REALLY need a synopsis of this one? I'm kind of doubting it. Stingy miser. Four ghosts (total; think carefully). Change of heart. " 'God bless us every one,' said Tiny Tim the last of all." Let's move on.

My strongest overriding impression throughout this book was, "I read this when I was ELEVEN?!" I have a pretty clear memory of what my vocabulary and field of experience contained at that point in my life, and I have no idea how I got past about page 5 of this book at that age. There are just so many historical and cultural references to everyday British Victorian life that I know must have sailed right past me. However, I have some vague memory also of plunging straight on, knowing that I was alreay familiar with the outlines of the tale from television and films, and that it didn't really matter that much to the story what a "cravat" was. (Now that I know what a cravat is, it still doesn't matter that much to the story, frankly, so I guess I was right.)

Still, I enjoyed the book a lot more this time, when I could grasp so many more of its subtle nuances. Those of you who participate in Wondrous Words Wednesday will know that I dedicated an entire post to the number of English words which have changed meaning since Dickens penned them, which was educational in itself and also quite fun to investigate.

Believe it or not, this book did contain one big surprise for me, as I had completely forgotten some of the more nuanced elements. My beloved husband, aka Good Man Michael, often complains that Dickens was the beginning of the end of the Western world seeing Christmas primarily as a religious holiday. He used to insist that good old Charles made us all think mostly of social justice issues, rather than the birth of Christ, around this time of year. I can fully understand why he thought so--he's never read the book!! He's only ever seen the same 40,000 adaptations of it that we've all watched over the years. Even I had begun to think he was right, until I read the book and discovered that Dickens makes his views of "the Reason for the Season" extremely clear. (I really kind of hate that phrase, by-the-way--it's so kitsch and cliche and smarmy. But, in this case, it gets the point across.) He also has a few choice words for those religious leaders who were actually contributing to the misery of the London poor.

A Christmas Carol is both feel-good Christmas story and harsh indictment in pretty much equal measure. I think maybe that's why we all go back to it year after year.

5 Minutes of Gratitude

2011-11-25T16:02:00.000-05:00

By definition, the day after Thanksgiving will always be a 5-Minute Friday, so long as The Gypsy Mama keeps hosting this meme. Thus, through the long Thanksgiving weekend--for which we are all CERTAINLY grateful!--we are reminded to continue counting our blessings, and that is a good thing.
At 12:55 in the afternoon, I begin.

I have a lot to be grateful for, and don't think I don't know it. This list could be very long. But I'm not going to write that list, because one thing stands out so firmly in my mind that I was grateful for yesterday.

To many, this will seem a bizarre thing for which to be so grateful: I turned off my cell phone on a major holiday. Telephones and I have been uneasy allies since the moment I answered one at about 4 AM during my junior year of high school and heard on the other end of the line my brother's voice announcing that my father had been taken to the hospital with a massive heart attack . From that time on, the ringing of a telephone always caused me to stiffen a bit, to jump into action, to wonder if the time to pick out a suitable black dress had finally come.

I adored my parents. I thought losing them was the worst thing that could ever happen in my world. I realized yesterday that waiting to lose them, and the suffering that they endured while they waited for Christ to gather them home to Himself, was in many ways worse than the natural process of grief could ever be. Last year at this time, I was still recovering from having finally gotten the call about Dad a few years before, and waiting for the call to come about Mom, who was in a hospital she would never leave. This year, I turned my cell phone off, knowing that none of us were waiting anymore, and enjoyed a lovely dinner with my husband, my daughter, and my wonderful in-laws, my new family, all of whom are in robust good health for their age, I am happy to say. I am grateful.

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T00:23:00.000-05:00

The following is the final sermon given by Fr. Alexander Schmemann, patron saint of many hearts and spiritual father of all who graduate from St. Vladimir's Orthodox Seminary. It was to his memory that we were drawn in attending the seminary, and it was for him, for our fellows in arms, and our Christ that we stayed. He gave this homily in the SVS chapel on Thanksgiving Day in 1983. I was a 6-year-old raging Pentecostal from rural southern Indiana at the time.

"Everyone capable of thanksgiving is capable of salvation and eternal joy.

Thank You, O Lord, for having accepted this Eucharist, which we offered to the Holy Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and which filled our hearts with the joy, peace and righteousness of the Holy Spirit.

Thank You, O Lord, for having revealed Yourself unto us and given us the foretaste of Your Kingdom.

Thank You, O Lord, for having united us to one another in serving You and Your Holy Church.

Thank You, O Lord, for having helped us to overcome all difficulties, tensions, passions, temptations and restored peace, mutual love and joy in sharing the communion of the Holy Spirit.

Thank You, O Lord, for the sufferings You bestowed upon us, for they are purifying us from selfishness and reminding us of the 'one thing needed'; Your eternal Kingdom.

Thank You, O Lord, for having given us this country where we are free to worship You.

Thank You, O Lord, for this school, where the name of God is proclaimed.

Thank You, O Lord, for our families: husbands, wives and especially, children who teach us how to celebrate Your holy Name in joy, movement and holy noise.

Thank You, O Lord, for everyone and everything.

Great are You, O Lord, and marvelous are Your deeds, and no word is sufficient to celebrate Your miracles.

Lord, it is good to be here! Amen."

http://www.schmemann.org/byhim/thankyoulord.html
The Orthodox Church, Vol. 20, No. 2, February 1984, p. 1:1

And God Bless Us, Every Word

2011-11-23T03:50:00.000-05:00

Another Wondrous Words Wednesday is upon us--which in this case means that another Thursday is almost here, and this particular Thursday will be Thanksgiving! I usually try to hold off on all references to Christmas until the day after Thanksgiving, but with a SuperToddler in the house who is super-psyched for Christmas, aided and abetted by her grandmother, I have given up all pretense, and we are happily watching Christmas movies on DVD. A LOT. Besides, with the Christmas Spirit Reading Challenge in full swing, I'm neck deep into Dickens' Christmas books and loving every minute of it.

I'm also getting a profound verbal education from my first re-reading of A Christmas Carol in many years. When I was younger, I just skipped over words I didn't know; looking back, I wonder now how I got any sense of a story from this book, since so many of the terms--though not new--have changed meaning so drastically that I'm looking them up as if it's the first time I ever encountered them. I think you'll see what I mean as you read your way down the list.

1. rime--a thin sheet of ice or hoarfrost over something, especially when the freezing occurred very rapidly. This, of course, was a reference to Scrooge's "cold, cold heart," as it were.

2. Union workhouse--Apparently, charitable provision for the poor in Dickensian England was regulated by what was called the New Poor Law, and that law created Poor Law Unions in parishes, under whose auspices workhouses were created to give shelter, food and jobs. The workhouse got its awful reputation because they weren't exactly encouraging people to want to stay there if they were fit enough to do any other job on Earth.

3. treadmill--Did YOU know that there were once mills powered by humans walking on, well, giant hamster wheels? Because I did not know that, nor that such mills were the origin of our term for the modern piece of exercise equipment.

4. link--See what I mean? Of course, I know what a link is; in fact, I have a couple of meanings for it that would have been utter nonsense in Dickens' time. However, to him, it was a torch. How the English language does change!

5. genius--Here we go again. Before this was a mental wunderkind, it was a guardian spirit.

These last two I had encountered many times in my life, but had never actually looked them up to discover the precise meaning. I just assumed a rough guess would suffice. Both my guesses were wrong.

6. misanthrope--I cannot BELIEVE that I never worked this one out based on simple etymology. It means someone who hates human beings. An apt description for pre-ghoul Scrooge if I ever heard one.

7. fain--This actually means to enjoy or be pleased by. I had a vague idea that it meant to be willing to do something, or to take an action out of simple necessity. Nope. Much more positive than that.

So there you have it, a feast of words from dear old Mr. Dickens. I wish you and all yours a happy Thanksgiving.

Low-Fat Grande Escutcheon

2011-11-22T21:45:00.000-05:00

I for one feel that it is high-time I indulged myself in a geek-out on my blog, and a nice, unseasonably warm November day just before Thanksgiving seems like the perfect time. Everybody's taking a little time off from the usual grind; even my Good Man Michael should be home any minute, and doesn't have to go back to work until Monday. Yay! Anyway, I believe I'll take a holiday pause and introduce all of you to one of my favorite hobbies. For those of you who already know all about the topic, hope you enjoy the refresher.

So, the first question is, of course, "What the Hell is an 'escutcheon', JNCL?" Well, it's just another word--in this case, the Latin word--for "shield," and is often used to refer to our topic for today, coats of arms. "Okay. Clear as mud. What's a coat of arms?" Maybe this crudely drawn visual aid I created will help.

Illustration 1
Coat of Arms

Ring any bells now? You may know this device as a "crest," but as you can see from Illustration 1, the crest is actually a piece of the whole coat of arms, not its proper title. (By-the-way, just for the information, "supporters" are not normally big, gray ovals; they're normally some kind of animal literally holding up the shield in their paws, but my artistic skills weren't up to that, so you'll just have to use your imaginations.) As a subject of study, coats of arms and everything relating to them are referred to as "heraldry," and those in countries around the world whose job it is to create and register coats of arms are called "heralds". In medieval Europe, heralds also had the job of ensuring that no one was cribbing someone else's arms, and announcing the identity of their master in a tournament. ("Hark! The Herald Angels Sing!" Haven't you always wondered what that meant? Well, now you know.)

As an American whose ancestry is mostly Celtic and Anglo-Saxon--not to mention a completely obsessive Anglophile--I tend to prefer my heraldry constructed according to the rules established in the UK. I can recognize the styles of numerous other countries on sight, as many of them are quite distinctive, but when I design a coat of arms myself--yes, I dabble with it on occasion as gifts for friends and such--I tend to follow the British guidelines pretty closely. With one HUGE, glaring exception. In the United Kingdom, women don't have their own coats of arms. Ever. Except on the rare occasion when every male heir in a family has died, leaving only her. Or on the even rarer occasions when a woman becomes the sovereign. Elizabeth II has arms that are hers, and will be inherited by her son when he becomes king. Most British women don't get that privilege.

No, women get to use their father's coat of arms "by courtesy," and they don't get to use a shield, or the helmet, because such military symbols are supposedly inappropriate for ladies. Nor does she get the motto, which was originally just a sort of battle cry. Obviously, these rules have been around a LOOOOOONG-ass time.

Illustration 2
Arms of an Unmarried Woman

An unmarried woman bears her father's arms on a diamond-shaped, um, something, called a lozenge. (Since we're not allowed to call it a shield, "something" sounded better than "blob.") To show that she's single, or "eligible" for us Jane Austen fans, she has a "true lover's knot" on top of the lozenge, which goes away when she gets married.

Illustration 3
Arms of Fictitious Husband

And that's not the only change; her husband's arms get added to her father's, so now her identity is a mix of two men, instead of just one. How flattering for her. On the upside, though, she finally gets a shield, once again "by courtesy," because she gets to borrow her husband's. There are a few other ways to arrange the two arms, but this one is pretty standard.

Illustration 4
Arms of Married Woman

However, when he dies, she'll have to give it back--to their son, her husband's heir.

Illustration 5
Arms of Widow

So, there she is, back to a lozenge-thingamy, with two halves of two coats of arms smushed together, usually with visually unimpressive results, and occasionally, an outcome that is just flat ugly. My personal favorites are the ones where a bird's wing or something is sticking at random out of the other half of these hybrid arms. "Always good [entertainment] value," as Ron Weasley would say.

And if you're wondering if anyone on Earth gives a flying fart in space about this anymore, I refer you to the arms of THE FATHER OF Catherine Middleton, Duchess of Cambridge, granted on 19 April 2011, drawn in Illustration 6 as they were borne by Princess Catherine before she married Prince William.

Illustration 6
Arms of Miss Catherine Middleton
Artist: Sodacan

Of course, her lozenge-blob has to be special, because she was the prince's fiancee. When she finally became a princess by marriage, her arms "by courtesy" became this.

Illustration 7
Arms of HRH Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge
Artist: Sodacan

Unlike all other women in the United Kingdom--except those rare, chosen few who actually own their own arms because they ran out of male relatives--those closely related to the sovereign by birth or marriage get "courtesy" supporters. Such "courteous" people, aren't we?

Now, the final question is this: now that they made women fully equal heirs to the throne of the UK and the Commonwealth Realms, will they FINALLY be able to receive arms in their own right? And to all you lucky women out there who are Canadian citizens, you are ALREADY entitled to be granted arms, so if you have the money and the inclination, apply for some! The more armigerous (meaning "owning a coat of arms") women the better!