Joy rises in me, like a summer’s morn...

 My title is the second-to-last line of a poem called A Christmas Carol by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. It is about the birth of Christ through the lens of Mary's experience. The mother in the story of Christmas. I had a Mother's day on this Christmas 2012 and wanted to write a few things down to remember.

• Not all my children were home, but I knew that everyone was happy and where they wanted to be. That mattered a lot to me. 
• Through the magic of technology, I was able to talk to and interact with all my kids. That was truly wonderful. 
• Those of us who were here in MD spent time together that felt authentic and meaningful as we went out for dinner on Christmas Eve and helped each other with cooking, cleaning, wrapping and all other preparations. I really felt a sense of unity and sweetness, which I treasure. My kids always jump in and work together nicely when I ask them to, and it warms my heart. 
• I feel so blessed that my kids are good friends. Both to each other and to others. I love watching them with the people outside our family that they love. It makes me happy that our house was for them a launchpad to the larger world, a world that brings them joy. That's part of my job as a mom, to help them want to engage, to feel the world is a good place, and to not fear to leave home. 

• I got to consider the meaning of gifts at Christmas as I came to terms with the fact that my kids in California had no gifts to open from me on The Big Morning. My box was mailed on Dec. 7 but was not there. It was hard to think about them having no tokens of my affection to pass through their hands on such a day as Christmas, but they were quick to reassure me that it was okay. I had some seriously sad moments about it, and was grateful to those who understood and really tried to comfort me. They were all so kind to me in my irrational sadness. Naturally, the gifts arrived just after Christmas and all was well, but I'm glad for the chance to think about all these things we wrap up and send and worry about and what they really mean. (I realized they really do mean love, but there are some other things mixed in that could stand to be evaluated.)

• My daughter asked if we could do a service project together as a family, which request meant so much to me. We were too late to sign up for anything big, but we did put some effort into a couple of small, simple things, and those little moments do stand out and sparkle in my memory. I can hardly express fully why it was so touching to me that she wanted to do that, but it's wrapped up in the fact that she's becoming such a wonderful young woman and this was a sign of what she values. 

In summary, it's been a time of cozy closeness and filled up my senses in a really satisfying way. I love hearing my young ones laughing together as they make cookies and clean up the kitchen and just chat in the family room. It's perfect to me. Since they've been home, we haven't "done" anything. No museum visits, no outings, no super-planned days. Just us. Together at home.

I can't even think of anything better.

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What Can I Tell You?

Three weeks since a post. I am feeling at a dead end as far as what to write on this here blog. I'm in the doldrums between the tropics on the great circumnavigation that is my life. I'm moving, but only very slowly, mostly just keeping from going backward. I'm trying to figure out where the wind will come from. (Now I really want to watch Master and Commander). One friend has structured her blog around the things she wants her children to know before she dies, but doesn't want to wait till she's on her deathbed to tell them. I like that. I like the idea of writing my inner landscape rather than my outward activities. When I thought in those terms on this day, here is what I came up with:

About the tragedy in Connecticut on December 14, 2012:
(On Friday, December 14, 2012, a disturbed individual went into an elementary school in Sandy Point, CT and gunned down some 26 individuals, most of them children. Before this action, also shot his mother.)

It's a sort of left-handed blessing that we in this country are still horrified and shocked by destruction on this level. It means our society really isn't as sideways as we might think. We still share a common and concrete idea of what is right and what is wrong. In other places on the earth, this kind of thing happens and no one notices.

So, I'm somehow grateful this is affecting us deeply, as it should.  However, don't let this shake your faith in humanity or in the system in which we live. People are so diverse and so complicated. This kind of thing has been happening since the beginning of human history. It is difficult to put words around how it makes us feel collectively, and that is appropriate. It's right that our hearts should be breaking and our minds reeling at the reminder that evil exists in the world, but it's not right that we should shake our fists at the heavens or the universe and complain that this should never happen. That wish is neither logical nor possible. Institutional controls over guns or different rules about mental illness wouldn't have entirely prevented it. He would have built a bomb or slit his wrists or used a sledge hammer or something else and the tragedy would have been just as profound, if even just for him and his family.

We signed up for freedom in this life. We knew before we were born that things like this would happen. Actually, if they didn't happen, we'd be the worse for it because we'd lose all the opportunities we have for growth, for deep thinking, for faith, and for meaningful action. We have the choice before us right now to  be positively or negatively affected by this most recent stimulus. Will we change? Will we value our relationships more closely and notice those on the fringes of life and look into their eyes and pray for opportunities to help them? Will we learn more about mental illness and atypical ways of processing and not marginalize those individuals but draw them in if possible (or forgive them for the chaos they bring if not possible)? Will we be able to accept that in a free society, there must be opposition? Will we be willing to sacrifice time and personal desires to strengthen families?  Or will we be horrified for a while, let fearfulness creep into our souls, wish to retreat from society, pull our kids out of school, then eventually go back to whatever it was we were doing before?

What are you stuck on in your horror and grief? If you're worried about the children, don't. They are going to be okay. They will lose none of the blessings that would have been theirs in this life. I honestly believe that. If you're worried about the families left behind, do something. Put more love out into the world. Send them a card. Donate to a fund to help with expenses or to honor the heroes of the day. Love your own family as you should. If you're worried this could happen to you, well, you're right. It could. But instead of being consumed by the fear of that fact,  you can be ready for anything by strengthening your spiritual side, by learning to love better, by learning who God is and what He is really like.

It's all up to us. If we want to truly grieve with the families of Connecticut, including that of the killer, we must look inside ourselves and wonder what we can do differently in our individual lives to learn from this. Looking to the government or society won't effect any lasting response. Only we can change our attitudes, our level of faith, our willingness to work and participate in God's plan for us, and our daily choices. If we don't change in some way, even if it is a small, invisible-to-anyone-else way, this particular opportunity for growth is wasted and all that's left is anger, hate and discord.

Then, evil wins. Don't let it.

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Book Review: The Flight of Gemma Hardy

The Flight of Gemma Hardy by Margot Livesey
Adult Fiction
Adaptation of Jane Eyre
You might like this book if you like novels set in Great Britain, have read Jane Eyre, or like quirky romances.

My book group read this in November so I wanted to try and get my review up before the month actually ends.
It's essentially a modern-day take on the story found in Jane Eyre, one of the great books of the English Language.

My friend Mendy summed it up perfectly for me when she said, in her brilliant way, "I liked the story, but I didn't like it as a retelling of Jane Eyre." Exactly.

It's a fine book. Well paced, with good language and description and a nice sense of 1950's Scotland. It's an interesting story of an orphaned girl who makes good in the end. I liked it a lot.
For me, reading it as an analog of Jane Eyre, I couldn't help comparing. This one is missing the heart and soul of the classic tale, in that Jane Eyre never compromises on her ideals or her morals. For a second. That's my favorite part of Jane's story-her steadfastness in the face of trial after trial. Gemma compromises all the time. Sometimes she's downright dishonest and plays the victim a bit. Not Jane-like at all.

But maybe that's not fair. I would imagine the author is trying to modernize things a bit, I get that. Unfortunately,  in my mind at least, ideals and morals don't stand up that well to all the "modernization" we are trying to impose upon them. The sweetness of Jane Eyre's happy ending is dependent on the fact that she would not give up on herself and her understanding of right and wrong. In spite of not knowing exactly where she came from, she always knew her worth.

Gemma has some of that. She definitely has self-respect and determination, and her happy ending definitely is joyful and filled with promise for the future.

All in all a good read for the late-autumn, with romance, lost loves, secrets, crazy families, and everything else we love about an English novel.

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Thankful

This week was Thanksgiving and it was lovely. We invited friends, then invited some more, and prepared for a feast for 15 people. In the end, one family couldn't come so it was a table of 8, which was just perfect. Some of our very favorite folks in the world came with their little ones and added a whole lot of life and sparkle to our day. There was much of laughter and trampoline jumping. There were hugs and doodles on paper placemats. There was a spectacular paper-and-pine-cone turkey and excellent companionship all around.

My gorgeous burn on my arm. If you've ever wondered
how hot a roux gets just before you add the broth, the
answer is: pretty hot!

The food was just as it should be: worthy of the biggest feast of the year! My pal brought all the yummy desserts, the bum-cheek rolls (out of the mouths of little kids-hahahahaha!!), the perfect stuffing and that raspberry salad that I could not stop eating. So, I took on the turkey, the potatoes, and the other vegetables. I made a traditional roasted bird, mashies (both plain and with the skins left in), sweet potato casserole with maple (and giant marshmallows on top), Ubiquitous Green Bean Casserole, squash risotto with rosemary, plus some roasted Brussels sprouts and asparagus (NOT in season here, but thanks to some farmer somewhere in the world, tiny and fresh and so delicious!).

Eric and Evan went to play football in the morning and I had a satisfying day of cooking on my own, but because my friend and I were sharing the preparation, I had just enough work to do to for it to be completely enjoyable. I was able to use my skills and keep the kitchen running smoothly, which I love. I get a creative thrill out of getting everything done and ready to serve all at the same time. I enjoy understanding how things work and why I'm doing certain operations so I can predict outcomes. That sounds like I'm super-organized but I'm not, really. It's all in my head. I don't write out timetables and schedules for cooking, and unless I'm baking, I hardly follow any recipes, but thanks to lots of experience, a love of cooking and, I suppose, a certain knack, it all fits together in my mind and I just know what to do. I'm really good at cleaning up while I go and putting things away, so my tiny kitchen never gets out of control. There are a few things in life that help remind me of my talents and capabilities and make me feel good about my contributions to this life, and a day of complex cooking is one of them. I'm not known as a great cook, nor am I sought after for my expertise, but in the end, that doesn't really matter. It probably wouldn't be as fun for me if it was a pressure thing with lots of expectations from others.

After our beloved guests took their leave, we skyped with all my relations gathered at my brother's house in Arizona. That included my parents, two of my aunts, my grandmother, 4 of my siblings and their spouses, 12 of my nieces and nephews, 2 of my sons, my daughter-in-law and my daughter. That was not everyone, but was a very fine representative group of the people with whom I share familial ties.

A photo of the skype screen in which, in front of my
brother's many hunting trophies, my nephew has
positioned himself just so to appear as if he's grown antlers. 

It was a glorious skype, with zany jokes, laughter and catching up on news, right up to the part when, while we were blithely chatting away through the interwebs, my mother took a fall out on my brother's patio and suffered a concussion and a fractured pelvis. For pete's sake. I had no idea until my nephew asked if I wanted to talk to his mom, then couldn't find her then reported that she was in the bedroom with Grandma, who had just fallen and hurt herself. More information was sought and I was carried all about the house inside a laptop and we found her. She was in pain, but lucid and quite witty in her extremity, as is her way. After a Thanksgiving-night ambulance ride to the ER for a diagnosis, she's now home and resting as comfortably as her pain meds will allow. Bless all those emergency response personel who celebrate their Thanksgivings some other day. I'm sure glad they were on duty that night.

But now I will pout for just a minute. My mom will be just fine but frankly, these are the times that try daughters' souls. She's 3000 miles away and I hate it. I know my two other sisters are very close by and will take good care of her, but I want to be there and help. Ughhh. So, I will call her and pray for her and be grateful that my parents are literally surrounded by family on all sides out there in that desert land we all love so much. I will stop pouting now and look for opportunities to help in similar ways out here in my world so the karmic wheel can turn toward my mom and she will always have what she needs. But sheesh (pouting again, briefly), I miss them all so much.

Which now makes me doubly grateful for the friends I have here: friends with kids I can hug and share my toys with and read books to and take to the tot lot; friends I can talk to and occasionally be useful to when they need it.

So, it's all good (smiling now). There are times and seasons to everything, and this was a beautiful season of Thanksgiving. I do love that in the U.S., this particular Thursday ushers in the Christmasy times of the year. It is a significant thing to begin to gather gifts and think of giving and sharing just after taking time to be grateful for all that we have. It makes sense to me.

So, Happy Thanksgiving to you. Let the Christmas music play and the lighting up of the world begin. Yes, it's crazy and busy and way too much sometimes, but what other time of year unifies so many people in the cause of generosity, even if some of us do get a little misguided about it? I think a lot of hearts are in the right place, and the world really is a little brighter, for all the different reasons people come up with. I'll take the extra light and love.

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Friday Goodness

As I sit here, virtuously eating my grapefruit and carefully measured piece of good-for-me quiche for a tidy breakfast total of 4 Weight Watchers points, I am faced with the fact that I gained weight this week. 1 pound. Last week I lost 3. Both weeks I was within my total points allowance, but my metabolism is just so slow right now, and my body so sensitive to the wild hormonal fluctuations of pre-menopause, that I have to be more diligent. I have to stay within my daily points allowance AND keep away from the flexible points AND accumulate about 25 extra points for exercise. That's the formula that will work for me to lose. That's what has worked the weeks I've actually lost weight so that is the goal. It's a big goal. I'm having some success with the goals of tracking my food regularly, getting used to my body's hunger signals, and trying to talk myself through moments of emotional eating. Granted, sometimes the talking through ends up becoming a pity party and I eat anyway, and I have no compunction about tracking those chocolate chips, but at least the thought processes are changing.

Overall, I have lost weight over these 5 weeks of trying, but only a net of 1.5 lbs and the ups and downs are so frustrating. Sort a metaphor for my whole arc of life. Two steps forward. One step back. Or vice versa sometimes. The progress seems maddenly slow. But it's all on me. I can't always blame it on my hormones, and I can't pretend that thinking about exercise and wearing my workout clothes all day actually makes a difference, much as I'd like to do so.

So, I'm a bit discouraged, but I'm rejoicing in the fact that I'm still in it. I went to a meeting at 7 am this morning and stepped on the scale and took my lumps. I bought their activity tracker that automatically converts my steps and exercise into points that I can spend. Well, except that I can't spend. As in my financial life, I have to be a saver rather than a spender.

So there you go. I only have one brain and it seems to handle all my temptations the same way. There can be comfort in that. If I change one part of myself, maybe the rest will follow.

On to the great outdoors and a morning photo shoot. Evan and Eric are out on a camping trip so I have the house to myself and just enough time to get a little bit of cleaning done before I leave.

Here's to new mornings and sunrises and being outside in the last golden colors of Autumn.

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The Work of This Life

Satisfaction flutters through my body as I sit here, quietly, in my own house. Yes, it is satisfaction, but admittedly, it is mixed with a certain amount of relief. Some big assignments came my way this spring, all involving a lot of effort, organization and managing of other people. Two of the largest assignments  (where I was the point person) and one of the smaller assignments (where I'm in a support position rather than the lead) are over. The last big thing is next week.

I accepted these assignments (very willingly, let me emphasize) about the same time I discovered the work of Susan Cain and her book about introverts and how we function in a world of extroverts. Most of us, she posits, put on a sort of "extrovert costume" and fake it till we make it. That's about right. It's perhaps my greatest single test in my life--to travel well the sometimes peculiar path that takes me through life. I often feel (to myself at least) like a puzzle wrapped in an enigma stuffed into a paper bag and stumbling around in the dark, (you know?) and working on stuff like this helps me function in the real world.

I digress. The bottom line is that projects like these constitute excellent personality calisthenics, because I do actually want to be helpful and involved and I don't want to be isolated or alone all the time. I love  people, it just takes me a while to get to know them.  That's the unexpected thing. Not all introverts are misanthropic hermits, much as we might aspire to be. We actually like being productive, useful, and even spending time with other humans. We just like to do it in ways that extroverts sometimes don't understand.

While working on these projects, I was able to articulate a few things about myself that help me understand why I feel cornered sometimes, and why if you know me, sometimes you WILL have to be patient with me if I get all defensive and sharp and sucked inside myself.

Here are some things I know:

1. I'm not an introvert who doesn't like people and collaboration, I just prefer to figure things out on my own rather than be told how to do things. I certainly wasn't told how to do these projects, I was given lots of trust and latitude, so it worked out great. However, in my extreme perfect world, I would be given an assignment then left alone until I show up to do it. Not realistic, but yet desired.

2. In this world of email, I generally hate personal messages that are sent as broadcast or cc'd emails. I am very much appreciative when someone tells or asks something meant for me in an email addressed to...me. Go ahead and send a summary or a solution out to the group, but converse with me. In spite of my public blog and my facebook presence, I like what I intend to stay private to actually stay private.

3. I'm not a committee-builder. Some people are. I'm not. That doesn't mean I think committees are bad or that I can't be part of a committee or even lead one. It's just not my preferred method. I work best in very personal collaborations with individuals that I trust.

There you go. Everything I've been asked to do lately has caused me to have to stretch each one of those boundaries beyond what feels comfortable, and that's good. It is a price I'm willing to pay because the payoffs are many and actually pretty profound. They include personal growth, interaction with people I treasure, and activities that uplift me and keep me from becoming selfish and out of touch with what is real and true.

My whole life, I'll keep doing things like this and (small sigh here) will probably never move to a small cottage on a Scottish island. Hikes and service projects; meal preparation and youth retreats: these represent opportunities that matter to me.  People might think it's easy for me. It's not, but it is my life's work and I will continue, happily, until I finally figure myself out.

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Filling My Pitcher

I'm just copying and pasting this exactly from my knitblog. What a lovely evening I've had. Mmm.

There is an old adage that says:

You can't pour from an empty pitcher.

No matter what you do in life, you have to replenish yourself sometimes. Covey reminds us that

You have to sharpen your saw.

How do you fill your creative pitcher? Recharge your batteries? Sharpen your saw? I do lots of things.

A blurry capture of the lady herself as she signed books. 

Tonight, I got a very filling experience which was that I went with friends to see a favorite author, Barbara Kingsolver, at the National Cathedral. I know, I'm very lucky that I can just whip around the Capitol Beltway and go places like that. I try not to take it for granted.

She was inspiring and her reading from her new book fell onto my ears just like water onto thirsty earth. The location was beautiful and imposing. I liked feeling small and awestruck, the way I did in the cathedrals we visited in Europe.

The Nave of the National Cathedral with all the state flags
adorning the columns. I liked that combination. 

About creative work and writing, she said things like this:
Fiction is experience invested with meaning. 

Hmm. I will think about that for a long time. I think it can apply to knit design and teaching and photography, and not in some new-agey, abstract sort of way. I thought about the fact that my best teaching and moments of connection with students and clients come from actual experience, and then usually when said experience involves trial and error. I can't skip the experience part and go straight to the product part.

And this:
If you're working entirely according to what other people expect instead of according to what you love to do, that's marketing, not creativity. 

That was important for me to hear. I get that I need to participate in the marketing part, but the balance is really important. For some, the marketing IS the part they love. For some of us, not so much.

And one more thing:
The first draft of anything is just work that has to be gotten through. With the REVISIONS comes the fun, when you can make the beginning match the ending, add all the details you really want and do all the tweaking necessary to bring it all together. 

I like thinking of the real creativity beginning after the mere scaffolding of the first draft is put together. It releases me from my perfectionistic tendency to expect a fully-formed thing to come forth on the first try.

One other thing matters about this evening. It was framed on all sides by the influence of like-minded friends. One brought the program to my attention and inspired me to take the time to go. Another was willing to trade out a regular knitting lesson for driving a long way to pick me up and go all the way into the city. The time spent with them was as important as Kingsolver's words and constitutes the purest and best way of topping off my creative reserves.


So let's get pouring. And sawing. And all that...

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Missionary Sighting!

My darling boy Sam, the one currently serving his mission in California, is smart, dedicated, funny and caring. He writes us great letters each week telling about the people he is serving, who he has taught and who has invited him to share his message about our church. He does not share much about himself and he has only sent a very few photos home in the 16 months he's been gone. That's not necessarily a bad thing, because he's not out there to provide entertainment for us. 

Lately though, in a few of his letters, there were tiny clues that maybe, just maybe, he'd been having some hard times for a missionary. I just couldn't tell for sure, so I was feeling a real longing to get some hard information. I don't like to distract him in my letters with my own worries, so I left him in God's hands and let him be. It was in the back of my mind, though.

So, my heart soared when I saw a real letter this week from the great state of California! It was from a family in the congregation where Sam is serving and it had PICTURES! My boy is doing great! He's smiling and happy and healthy. It thrilled me to see him with his companion and read the words of this kind family who took time to write us a letter. He and his companion had dinner at the home of this couple and they reported that Sam is working hard and is a credit to his upbringing. What a lovely thing to say, and it did a mommy's heart good, I'm telling you. It was just what I needed to continue to have the faith to let him have this experience completely independently and learn all that he needs to learn. 

This was a day-maker, for sure. 

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Lovely Autumn Recipes

I get recipes in my email box all the time and most of them go in the trash either because I already have a recipe for something similar, or I just don't want to overwhelm myself. These two, however, caught my eye due to their accessible yet exotic flavors and were very successful, even for my (getting better all the time) picky eater:

The first I made just before the power went out on Monday. I had bread rising just as we heard the fateful pop at 5:20, but I was able to get out my big electric roaster and bake the bread off in there. It wasn't pretty from being lifted off its rising pan, but it was perfect in all other ways. This soup was the perfect complement, and I'm back to enjoying it for lunches now that the power is back on. I hope you'll try it. I found it through my Allrecipies.com email subscription.

I followed the advice of some of the commenters and played around with spices. It's hearty, but very mild. I went Indian/Moroccan and used a tsp of cumin and a tsp of cinnamon to warm it up a bit. Next time I'm going to try it Mexican-style and add some taco seasoning and maybe some canned corn. I used canned ham from my food storage. This is a GREAT soup for food storage, because in a pinch you can use dried onion and garlic as well. Very nice.

Pumpkin Black Bean Soup

Rated: Submitted By: REEDYGAL Photo By: mominml Prep Time: 15 Minutes Cook Time: 30 Minutes Ready In: 45 Minutes Servings: 9

"This is a delicious soup that is even better reheated the next day. Easy to make too. Serve with a garnish of sour cream and toasted pumpkin seeds if desired."

INGREDIENTS:

3 (15 ounce) cans black beans, rinsed and drained 1 (16 ounce) can diced tomatoes 1/4 cup butter 1 1/4 cups chopped onion 4 cloves garlic, chopped

1 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper 4 cups beef broth 1 (15 ounce) can pumpkin puree 1/2 pound cubed cooked ham 3 tablespoons sherry vinegar

DIRECTIONS:

1.

Pour 2 cans of the black beans into a food processor or blender, along with the can of tomatoes. Puree until smooth. Set aside.

2.

Melt butter in a soup pot over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic, and season with salt and pepper. Cook and stir until the onion is softened. Stir in the bean puree, remaining can of beans, beef broth, pumpkin puree, and sherry vinegar. Mix until well blended, then simmer for about 25 minutes, or until thick enough to coat the back of a metal spoon. Stir in the ham, and heat through before serving.

The second was so good I cannot WAIT to have another serving. So rich and so dang easy. This one came from my Martha Stewart Everyday cooking subscription, and there is also a video you can watch here. It's called Slow-Cooker Sweet and Spicy Chicken. My mind must be in warmer climes because it uses the same spice combination. Ha! I used some boneless, skinless thighs that I had in the freezer and instead of browning the chicken, I put it in the crockpot still frozen and toasted the spices by themselves in my frying pan instead. Worked great and easier for me since I forgot to defrost (a fairly common occurrence). I served this with couscous and it was perfect.

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Everyday Food, March 2012

• Prep Time20 minutes
• Total Time3 hours 50 minutes
• YieldServes 4 to 6

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Ingredients

• 2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• Coarse salt and ground pepper
• 4 chicken leg quarters (2 1/2 pounds total)
• 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 medium yellow onion, cut into 1/2-inch wedges (root end left intact)
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 3-inch piece peeled fresh ginger, sliced into rounds
• 1 can (28 ounces) diced tomatoes
• 1/2 cup raisins

Directions

1. In a large zip-top bag, combine cumin, cinnamon, 3/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper; add chicken and toss to coat. In a large skillet, heat oil over medium-high. Cook chicken, skin side down, until golden, about 4 minutes; flip and cook 2 minutes.
2. In a 5-to-6-quart slow cooker, place onion, garlic, and ginger. Add chicken, skin side up, then top with tomatoes and their liquid and raisins. Cover and cook on high until chicken is tender, 3 1/2 hours (or 6 hours on low).

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Brave New World

Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley
Genre: Adult Fiction, Dystopian, Futurist
I listened to the audiobook on Playaway from my local library.
You might like this book if you're a fan of dystopian literature-this one is deep in the ancestry of the genre. Also consider it if you are interested in satire, sociology, the future of society, and other topics covered in this story.

Hmm, how does one describe this book? It is the story of a New World State, far in the future (the book is set in A.D. 2540), that is based on the principles of Community, Identity and Stability. Society is made up of carefully created castes of people who are influenced chemically and thermally while being bred in laboratories, then cognitively through hypnotism after "decanting." The idea of this is to create people who are so perfectly suited for their life's occupation that everyone will always be happy. Reproduction has been removed from sex. The two have nothing to do with each other, so fundamental relationships are entirely changed. It's challenging to think about, but I think there is an element of prophecy in the work. Also, that happiness idea only works because of the constant use of a powerful drug called Soma that is ubiquitous in the society and allows people to cope with the fact that they have no individual agency or ability to make choices about their lives. It is a chilling irony to consider that the thing engineered to create the happiness, ie. predestination and conditioning to create a uniform contentment, has created a society in which happiness is actually only accessible through artificial means.

In today's world, people are attempting to separate reproduction and sex, reducing sexuality to mere entertainment and shallow social interaction rather than a deep and integral part of our identity. It's fascinating to see how just this one change in society can affect so many other aspects. People are also chasing happiness and it can seem like it is in shorter and shorter supply, in spite of increased resources, information and opportunities.

The book also forces one to think about what constitutes civilization and what constitutes savagery. In the end the "Savage" or outsider becomes the means for Huxley to comment on the very idea of fiddling with humankind as much as the World State does in his book. It just wouldn't work, and I think he is warning us that we better stop flirting with it as we have been doing in the last 150 years. It was written in the time of Eugenics, which was not so much about genetic engineering as it was about selecting and conditioning for a superior society. It was also written in the embryonic days just preceding the Third Reich and the aftermath the Great War and the Bolshevik revolution. All of these influences and contextual informants were pacing around in the background for me and I could not think of this book without thinking that Huxley was warning us about more than just reproductive tinkering. He was warning us about socialism, tyranny and any state having the power to overwhelm the individual. It made me shudder. What must have gone through his mind as he watched the rise of communism, fascism and socialism in the lead-up to World War 2?  Holy Cow. I might have been a little frightened of my own powers of deduction. Those were turbulent times and it does not surprise me that such a book, with ideas to upend values and mores that most average citizenry held as self-evident, would come out of the experience of living in those days.

I listened to Michael York read the book and found it engaging and very interesting. The characters are each drawn to provide a particular lens for observing the society, and each one truly does allow for a different focus. His use of accents and acting helps to distinguish the characters and the many "scene changes."  There is no clear hero or protagonist, and the writing verges on stream-of-consciousness at times, but it works.

I am glad I read it again (last time was in high school) and that I have a lot more living under my belt to help me to realize the absurdity of the Brave New World but also to recognize the biting satire and weirdly prophetic warnings found between the lines on every page.

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Book Review: The Girl of Fire and Thorns

The Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson
Genre: YA Fantasy
You might like this book if you enjoy human stories of growing up and growing brave. It is set in places that might remind you of somewhere you've heard of, but are just different enough to spark your imagination.

My friend Erin has never failed me on a book recommendation, so when I found this at the library one day, and in my current mood of reading like there's no tomorrow, I picked it up. I loved it. I wrapped myself in blankets and scarves during Superstorm Sandy and waited out the cold hours till our power came on with this book, and it warmed me right up.

It's the story of the princess that usually gets ignored. The second-born. The not-so-pretty one. You know. Well I definitely know. I'm a second-born daughter who definitely did not attract too much attention when I was young, so from the beginning, I felt like I could relate to Elisa.

She's married off at age 16 in a political move that's supposed to turn the tide of a war, but it turns out that what is actually needed are the skills and gifts of the girl herself. She experiences a lovely character arc of self-discovery and the story is well-crafted, with enough clever plot lines to keep me truly interested to the last.

It doesn't have a formulaic happy ending, nor does it have a sad ending. It's a good ending for the character, and I came to really like her. I would definitely look for more in a series if the author decides to keep telling Elisa's story.

Sometimes it's good to have to wait out a storm!

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Musings on This All Hallow's Eve

The kind of debris from Superstorm Sandy
found in our neighborhood: sticks and leaves. 

Evan is out Halloweening with friends, Eric is at the temple, and I am here, slowly putting things back together after we hooked our house up to the generator for our 40 hours off the grid. Every 20 minutes or so a few kids will stop by trick-or-treating. I must confess I've sampled the Reese's pumpkins and the Candy Apple Milky Way bars. Mmm. That's what weekly points are for.

Our power came back on today around 10:30 am and since I had lunch with a friend and ran some errands, I'm just now getting the last of the cords coiled up and stowed and plugging everything back in where it belongs. Eric had little choice when he went generator-shopping on Friday before the storm so we ended up with a rather large one and were able to power many things. It was lovely to not have to worry about food in the fridges. It's also amazing what a difference just a single lamp can make when it is cold and dark. For all the damage in other areas, once again we fared very well and have nothing but gratitude for the ease of our passage through the storm. Our hearts ache for those who experienced the full force of the storm.

A few things of things of note I want to remember about this time:

• Yesterday we had dinner with friends who invited us to warmth and laughter and cooked food. :o) We were welcomed with such easiness and love. What a pleasure to spend time with them and watch Evan be the big brother and have wonderful conversations about ordinary things. Our house was still cold (the generator can't handle the furnace) and it was seriously a beautiful thing to contrast that cold with the coziness of their home. 
• Today was a visiting teaching appointment with my dear friend but my companion couldn't come so instead of a regular appointment, I picked up Chinese food and went over for a nice, long chat. Ahh. So peaceful. She welcomed me to her home with these inspired words: "This is a stress-free zone." When she said that, I realized how tightly I was wound due to worrying about the storm and everything else. It was so helpful to have the spirit in her home literally stop me in my tracks and get me to welcome the day and enjoy the moment. What a needful lesson!
• Tonight I got to stop by and see my pal who just had twins and Holy Cow are those little twinkies still tiny and adorable! Her house is another place that feels warm and welcoming to me. Her sister and mom were also there to help and she let us grab pizza from the box and homemade cookies and things like that. Such wonderful comfort and normal times makes me happy. I don't like to be fussed over, I'd rather come in and just be one of the crowd and at her house it feels that way. Like I belong. What a powerful feeling. 

All of these things are particularly meaningful to me right now because I'm having a little pity-party for myself. Another brother is moving to Arizona (I'm truly NOT sad about that-I'm excited for his new job and the attendant opportunities and I really am happy they will be near the parents and brothers and sisters.) However, in my pathetic selfishness, I do feel isolated way out here knowing that so many of my family will be all in one state. Granted, its a state the size of the entire Mid-Atlantic region, but all but 3 of the 8 will be within a few hour's drive of each other. None of them have reason or means to come all the way out here for visits. It's a little depressing now that my kids are also all so far away. SO, the short story is that being with people out here that I adore makes a huge difference. HUGE.  It really does. It softens the edges of that big empty space in my head and heart and gives Evan (and me) opportunities to feel like one of a crowd again.

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Hurricane Sandy

After days of watching her inexorable progress north from the tropics on the news, Sandy turned left and inched toward us all day yesterday, finally making landfall last evening. As usual, we've been spared the worst due to our location inland and on high ground. So, no flooding, winds topped out at maybe 50 mph, and we are fine.

Our power is out again, but we do own a generator. It stopped working last night in the worst of the storm, but I'm confident Eric will have it up and running again here soon. While it was working last night, life was nearly normal except for the cold creeping in.

Now the wind is quiet, the rain has slowed to a steady drum and I hear birds singing their morning songs. Quite a change from yesterday. I imagine most of our time today will be spent waiting and watching and trying to be of help to others who are in worse straits than us.

My thoughts go out to those who are truly suffering.

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Sine Nomine

Here is a desultory list of thoughts. I just feel like writing.

• The trees are GORGEOUS right now. I am loving driving around under the golden light of the changing leaves. The equinox has shifted the angle of the sun, so everything has taken on that certain Autumn patina. 
• Related to all that driving, I am so tickled with my little convertible! On any day where the skies are not falling and the temperature is above 50 degrees, I can hardly stand to drive without the top down. It's like the whipping wind blows all the cobwebs right out of my head, and I just feel happy and light zooming to and fro with nothing but air all around me. 
• I'm also pleased with my newly short hair and the discovery of headwraps and hairbands to keep me looking pulled together, even with all that whipping wind. 
• I have been reading a lot. With Evan in driver's ed right now, my days alone have stretched out to nearly 6pm and reading is capturing my fancy at the moment. I have no shortage of other options to fill my solitary daylight hours, but it has been a pleasure to just sit and read. I have no pressing knitting deadlines, so I've gone back to opening books and turning pages instead of always choosing the audio option. Lovely. 
• A friend met on the internet has moved into the area, and I've so enjoyed getting to know her better in person. We went to see Lois Lowry at one of the great independent bookshops of the world, Politics and Prose and it was a special evening for me. It definitely played a part in getting back to the habit of quiet afternoon reading. Thanks Lucia!

I have no conclusion or unifying idea to share, I just needed to get some thoughts down in words. It's a good, fresh time in my life and I want to record all the stages of getting from here to the next part, whatever that may be. 

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Book Review: Sense and Sensibility, Graphic Novel version

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
Adapted by Nancy Butler and Sonny Liew
Genre: Adult Romance
You might like this book if you love Jane and want a whole new way to experience her work-in words AND pictures!

I picked this up out of utter curiosity at the library one day, and it was a delightful way to experience one of my favorite author's work. I liked how the illustrations enhanced the dialogue and really did make the story come alive.

This classic is the story of two sisters, one expert at self-control and fortitude, one lost in her passions and emotions. The path they take to find love is circuitous and filled with satire on the English system of inheritances, the place of women and the power men had over their lives. In the end though, it is about character and uprightness and how those really do matter more than money or titles or anything. It's lovely.

Even if you've read the text-only version and seen all the movies, give this a try.

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Book Review: Liar & Spy by Rebecca Stead

Liar & Spy by Rebecca Stead
Genre: Fiction, Middle Grades
You might like this book if you liked When You Reach Me, or you like stories that have a kind of moody unrest about them and are slightly mysterious and atmospheric.

I loved Rebecca Stead's second novel, When You Reach Me, so I got this from the library as soon as I heard about it. I got to see her speak at the National Book Festival a couple of years ago and enjoyed that as well. She really has a gift for language that is perfect for her intended audience, but does not insult the intelligence of children by being too simplistic or patronizing.

This book is the story of a boy in Brooklyn who has to move out of his house to an apartment and is worried about his parents. His dad has lost his job and his mom has to work crazy hours as a nurse to make up for it.

There's a boy his age in the new apartment building, which is good because his best friend at school has deserted to the cool kids. This boy is a bit unusual though, and eventually becomes harder and harder to figure out.

In the end, I was completely surprised by how the author twisted the plot and wrapped things up. It was a great ending and VERY satisfying for me. Check this title out if you want a richly rewarding yet not too taxing read for an autumn afternoon.

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Weight Watchers Update

Yesterday I went to my third Weight Watcher's meeting. It was on a different day, so there was a different leader. I will be back to this meeting. M was stupendously motivating, smart and fun. Her approach resonated with me more than the other gal, nice as she was. So, that was neat to find out--the leader matters. In spite of it being that time of the month and me being at a conference last weekend with plate after plate of gorgeous catered food, I still lost a little weight. I'm going to keep my progress on the down-low till I feel like it's becoming visible, but today, when I realized that my efforts, imperfect as they were, were paying off and I'd officially lost a bit more, I was surprised to find myself emotional. I actually cried a couple of joyful little tears. Strange, what our weight and body image mean to us. This body is merely the box I live in, but it's nice to live in a decent, well-cared for box I suppose.

I'm realizing that on some days I actually don't eat enough because of my anxiety. It's the same proces that stops me from breathing sometimes too. I'm just thinking too hard about stuff and I don't realize I'm hungry. So, it's been helpful to have a flexible target and a checklist of the things I should concentrate on first. Once I have those things taken care of, it's pretty simple to count points. I really like the program. If it turns out that I can stay on this path and be successful, I think WW would be a great place to take on some part-time work someday, so that is helping to motivate me as well. It's just another form of teaching, and I know I'm good at that.

I'm starting to recognize a particular feeling of being in control and strong when it comes to food and exercise, and it's a really good feeling.

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Book Review: The Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling

Yes, I am one of those. Without reading any of the reviews, I went and bought The Casual Vacancy on the first day it was out, from the giant stack at my local warehouse store. I love Rowling's writing in the Potter series. I was excited to see what she could do in another genre.

Here is what happened:

I was able to articulate that what I loved most about the Potter books is that she made a magical world seem completely reasonable and plausible. As my friend Janis pointed out, she wrote about Potter's England as realism, not fantasy.

I was also able to articulate that when writing about real life, as she does in this new offering, Ms. Rowling is equally capable at painting pictures with words that are completely transporting. I could see the prettiness of Pagford so perfectly, I'd nearly be able to get around if I were to find myself in that imaginary town.

I could also see the ugliness of the underside of life in Pagford with equal clarity. She pulls no punches to tell her story and, one can assume, attempt to wake the reader up to the plight of the carelessly discarded and ignored people in this crazy world. Though I don't mind sadness and realism in my reading, this was REALLY real (Lots of profanity, pain, abuse, mental illness, sex and drugs). And, as you might gather,  there is no magic to save anyone. Just screwed up, mean, abusive, sad, misguided, fearful, dishonest and selfish people on every page. Heavy stuff.

In the first third of the book it was nearly unbearable and I almost gave up, but I learned to just skip some parts. It was that bad for me. Yes, you can call me naive and weak-stomached. It's really more that I'm deeply affected by sadness and it will seep into my mind and keep me up at night. I know life actually is as depraved as she reports (this book sort of felt more like a documentary than a novel) for a lot of people. And I know we should see the worth of every soul we meet. That is important, but the way she presented it in this novel was neither motivating nor edifying for me. The depressing bit is the taste that got left in my mouth.

In the end, the plot pulled me in and I did want to find out what happens to everyone, but it was so very, very sad. I think it was meant to be, because I've decided it's really a fable. Or an indictment. She wants to remind the reader in no uncertain terms: There are a lot of people who don't get what they need in this world and we the people with resources and blessed lives  should care more and do all we can to help.  That is true. Did I need a gritty novel to remind me of that? Not really. Not when I use my precious reading time to help me balance out and cope with the very real world in which I live.

As I think about my strongest impressions, I'm left pretty empty because of the haunting message that I gathered from the climax and denouement that revenge and come-uppence happen more often than forgiveness and healing. There was little of either in this story, just a very fable-like list of he-or-she-got-what-she-deserved-because-they-are-bad. Realistic? Probably. Hopeful? Not so much.

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Book Review: Their Eyes Were Watching God

Their Eyes Were Watching God, by Zora Neale Hurston
Genre: Adult Fiction
You might like this book if you are interested in post-civil war African-American culture in the American south.
I love this book. I love the vernacular language, spelled out phonetically so that you have to read it aloud so it makes sense. I love the powerful story of a woman in a difficult time in history trying to come to terms with herself and the expectations placed upon her by both family and friends. It's visceral and happy and sad and thought-provoking. A classic.

This time I listened to actress Ruby Dee read the book aloud and it completely transformed the story for me. It came alive in a way that it never has before for me, in spite of how much I've enjoyed it the couple of other times I've read it.

This is an important book for anyone to read and ponder.

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A Short Course in Miracles

Miracles.

What does that word mean to you? To me it is a need met in a way not even on my mind, even as a remote possibility, the very moment before it happens. By this definition, a miracle happened to me this week and I am overwhelmed with gratitude. It's so strange how it all came about, but yet it also has a kind of logical symmetry to it. It really is kind of a big circle.

Miracles are like that.

Maybe I fill a need for someone else. Perhaps miraculously, at least from their perspective...

Then YEARS later, something unexpected comes to me.

Something no one knew I really, really need. And worry about.

Except of course, my Heavenly Father.

Why do I ever doubt?

It always happens this way. Every time.

As I think about the many little things that are bugging me today, and there are a surprising number for such a young week, I feel ashamed at my lack of faith. My quickness to compare my situation to that of others. My smallness of vision.

Fortunately, as I write this, I can feel my spine soften and my heart come forward and swell from its tiny, shriveled, fearful state. My breaths slow and deepen. Peace descends. Love whispers in my ear.

It's as if I'm suddenly looking at my life from an orbiting spacecraft. Everything is laid out and beautiful and makes an amazing, organic, imperfect landscape; harmonized together as if by design.

Well, duh.

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Embracing the Plan

Today I went to my first Weight Watchers meeting. It was a small group of people made up of mostly women (there was only one man), and they were all very nice. It was run by a lovely woman named Debi with blonde hair and pink toenails (yes, you are picturing her correctly) who has successfully been through the program and kept her weight off.  I felt fine as I listened to the challenge to track my eating and the tips for how to pack the most satisfaction into my allotted points (my childhood favorite bologna sandwich on white bread with cheese and mayo apparently won't do it). I didn't feel weird or out of place-it was just a meeting. It was also nothing new or revolutionary. Same concepts as ever: Move more. Eat less. Lose weight. Nope, the physics haven't changed. Clearly however, I'm not able to work that simple formula on my own so I've decided to, as my friend J (who has thus far lost 27 pounds on the WW plan since spring) says,
embrace the program. 

She says the meetings help.

And so does getting enough protein.

And so does believing that they can actually help me do the thing I've been unable to do for 20 years.

That's the kicker. It's too easy for me to say that I know this stuff. Well, as I tell my kids, knowing means doing. Quite obviously, I don't know it as well as I say I do because I've had little of relevant experience to prove that my so-called knowledge is actually viable. I can't claim to know until I do.

So it's time to put my money where my mouth is.

Literally.

I'm going in all the way. I'll probably start using lingo and put up a poster or two of Jennifer Hudson. Bear with me. I need to be converted for this to work. If the act of measuring out exactly 21 grams of chocolate chips and sucking on them one at a time throughout the day is any indication, I might be on my way.  That's a tablespoon and a half worth of chocolate, BTW, and still counts 3 points against my daily 26. My goal is to get down to 14 grams in a day for 2 points. This part matters because chocolate chips are kind of my kryptonite, oh those crazy little brown temptresses.

I'm telling this story because I need outside accountability. It will help me more to know that I am reporting to sympathetic friends and that I can write about both my successes and my failures in such a way that will be useful and part of the learning process. I've been writing about it on my private blog for a while now and referring to my weight on this blog for YEARS and it's all coming dangerously close to whining, so it's time to come over here, be OUT with it and put a positive spin on it.

So there you go. My big news. Thanks for reading. I have to go 'cuz it's time for another chocolate chip.

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Quiet Days

The weather is turning to the delightful coolness of a Maryland Autumn, and the blue skies have been a happy sight for most of the days this week. There are trees touched with brilliant colors and the portent of a pleasant new season fills me with anticipation for pots of soup, scented candles and homemade bread. I love to leave the windows open to air out the stuffiness of the humid summer, and the fresh breezes feel a bit chilly, so the fun of cuddling under a blanket to knit or read is also back from the other side of the world.

Evan and I are finding a new rhythm as we putter around in the quietness until Eric gets home. I can honestly say that my little white house with the red door feels quite spacious now with only 3 of us rattling around. There are whole areas that go largely unused for days, and that has just never happened before.

And so we go into the tucking-in time of year, the rest after all the activity of the summer. There's still a flurry of work to be done as I clean up the garden and try to move some plants before it gets too cold, and there's always the nesting to do-the cleaning out and sprucing up before the windows get closed and life moves inside. But then comes a kind of grey quiet that can only be winter. Before then, I hope to fill my lungs with every breath of fresh air and my eyes with every bit of blue I can.

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California Adventure

My friend Gwen invited us to come visit her family's cabin in California. I have a soft spot for family cabins in the woods, so I was pleased to be invited and many months ago, I made a plan with her to actually go. Labor Day weekend was the time and King's Canyon was the place. Eric went with me and we left Evan with wonderful friends who took great care of him.

Here is what we did:

• Flew into LA. I know, but it was waaayy cheaper. Next time we'll fly into the Bay Area. 
• Drove up through the traffic and the Grapevine and the Great Valley to Le Grand, CA, and the charming, old, heritage-laden house where Gwen lives with her incredibly cool husband, Arlis. 
• Had a fabulous dinner, made by our hosts. 
• Walked around the town of Le Grand and was amazed and delighted by the lasting imprint of Gwen's family on the place. 
• Slept blissfully in the pleasant, cool, valley night air. 
• Went to Fresno to teach a class to an AWESOME group of knitters at Sheeper Than Therapy. 
• Drove up the foothills of the Sierra Nevada to Wilsonia, CA, which is the best-ever little neighborhood of cabins right inside King's Canyon National Park. It has an interesting story that you can read about here and here. 
• Hiked, gawked at giant pinecones, giant trees, giant rocks and amazing views. 
• Played games. 
• Ate fabulous meals. 
• Played more games. 
• Hiked more. 
• Talked and talked with G and A. 
• Hiked and played games and ate. (s'mores made with the little wrapped squares of Ghiardelli chocolate!!!!)
• Took about 500 photos
• Drove back to LA and flew home, having hardly believed I was actually in such a beautiful place. 

But you know I have proof. So here you go. These and a few others are also on Facebook. More photos to come. 

Gwen and Arlis--thank you from our hearts-this trip was very special!

King's Canyon. Amazing. 

In Black and White or Color. It's just gorgeous with
soaring canyon walls and great granite monoliths and domes. 

Me, enjoying feeling Hobbit-like. 

The Cabin

Arlis looks out coolly out on the view from a cool
fire lookout tower. 

Giant Sequoia with a characteristic split
at the bottom that is big enough inside for Eric
and I to live.  Seriously. 

I'm a little crazy about this cabin. 

The boys finished their hike a bit early and waited
patiently for us. 

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