Bees and Bushes

I realize that, as a former English major, no one expects me to be able to count, but I am very much aware that I skipped book number five on the list. I accidentally bought the large print version.  The combination of the overlarge type and the slim margins makes me feel like the book is yelling at me. I don’t like books that yell at me. So I had to skip it until the regular size version shows up at my door.  

#4 – A Book of Bees – Sue Hubbell

Recommended by: MC

This is a lovely, soothing book, best read in the heat of summer while the bees buzz past your glass of lemonade. Reading it is like soaking in a warm bath – it is calm and luxurious and comforting. The author details her experiences keeping bees throughout an entire season and while it doesn’t make me want to keep bees, it does certainly make me appreciate them far more. The author takes such a loving tone with them, and explains their behavior so carefully, that you can’t help but come to understand them. The tone of the book is quiet and respectful, with a gentle drop of humor and good spirits. The author isn’t trying to convince the reader to do anything more than just sit back and enjoy the process of beekeeping and that restful and respectful tone does much to make this book so pleasurable.

#6 – American Wife – Curtis Sittenfeld

Recommended by: MS

I read this book a few years ago with my book club. It is a thinly fictionalized look at Laura Bush and her life. The first time around, I was more sympathetic to Alice/Laura. She seemed like a quietly moral person who kept finding herself in situations that tested her moral fiber. The second time around, I was less inclined to like her because I felt that she didn’t fall so much as stop herself from falling. Time and time again, she could have made a choice, but seemed to prefer to let others make the choices for her. When she finally did find her voice, it was so far past the point of reason that I found it infuriating. Now you are going to speak out? Now? However, I did love her rendition of the Bush family, and Charlie/George is particularly well written. He leaps off the page, as does his entire family, and they totally make the book worth reading. Excluding the name changes, I think it would be very easy to forget that you are reading fiction and that this isn’t Laura’s own memoir, which is another reason this book is a worthwhile read. Any author who can create such solid characters, not caricatures, of such well-known people gets a solid stamp of approval (even if I did absolutely hate her first book, Prep.)

Family Matters

My sister-in-law is always trying to better herself. She has two masters’ degrees, a plethora of initials after her hyphenated name, and is always taking new classes or learning new things. She once took opera singing lessons, just because. She is currently running marathons – for fun. So when she recommended what I consider to be a self-help book, I wasn’t surprised. My brother-in-law is the same way. (Good thing they are married, eh?) He also recommended a self-help book. This week, I read them both.

#2 – The Happiness Project – Gretchen Rubin

Recommended by: CRR

The author spent a year trying to become happier even though the basics were already covers, i.e., she was already happily married, doing a job she loved, in a city she loved, with two kids who were both healthy. I believe starting from a general sense of happiness is more realistic. A new job, a baby, a romance – all are considered easy paths to happiness. But what does happen if you already have those things? Can you be happier? What makes you happy?

The book tells you to figure out what makes you happy, what makes you sad, or frustrated, where you want to grow as a person, and what do you want to change. From those answers, you can start to create a list of resolutions that will help make you happier. What I found to be the most useful is starting small – say one resolution in January, and gradually increasing to 12 resolutions in December and then breaking down those resolutions into pieces. (Resolutions, not goals, because resolutions are daily reminders and goals, once hit, are forgotten.) For example, come January, everyone wants to lose weight. But by breaking that goal down, it can be easier to manage. Maybe in January, only focus on exercising every other day. Identify ways that you can rearrange your life and schedule to get to the gym, or arrange your workouts to better suit your moods or your time constraints. Perhaps don’t go to the gym at all, find other activities, or different places. Then in February, start a food log. Maybe in March, eliminate certain foods and so on until December, when you have incorporated 12 different approaches to healthy diet and exercise that have changed your life and make you happier. Or focus on something different every month, as the author did. One month she focused on money. A different month, she focused on parenting. The point is not to do what others do, the point is to determine what you want to do and what you can do to make yourself happier.

I would go nuts trying to fill in a Resolution star chart every day, or spending so much time navel gazing, but I think the concept is sound. I do plan on making a short list of resolutions that will grow monthly to test out the theory. What do I have to lose from trying to make myself happy? I’ll let you know how it goes. If any of you are trying to change your life this upcoming year, even in a small way, this wouldn’t be a bad book to read before you start.

#3 – Verbal Judo – George Thompson

Recommended by: MR

I can see how this book appealed to my beloved brother-in-law. (I’m lucky, I have three BILs and I adore all of them. In this case, I’m referring to the Eldest.) This book explains how to be a better communicator in easy to understand ways, using a plethora of examples, mostly from the authors’ years in law enforcement. It’s like it was written for Eldest! I found it to be a bit of information overload, but a few simple things stood out – always treat others with respect, always come from a place of empathy, always use first names, and always personalize your encounter with someone. Obviously, there is a lot more to the book, including mnemonic reminders, lists, and lots and lots of ways in which to put those concepts into practice. I was surprised, however, by how many of these concepts Eldest already practiced. When my daughter was born, she was put into NICU very suddenly. (She was fine, we panicked.) All I heard for 24 hours was “How’s the baby?” Eldest was the only person who asked, “How is Insert Name Here?” I have never forgotten that. It made her real. It made me less scared. She wasn’t just a general baby, she was my little girl, his niece, and by God she was going to be all right. I was really struck by how such a simple switch from baby to name made such a huge different and this book is filled to the brim with examples of how to make other, just as simple changes to your communication habits.

So, if you know someone who communicates only through yelling, or intimidation, or doesn’t listen to a word you say, slip this book into his or her stocking this Christmas. Or better yet, buy yourself a copy and teach them through example. Just like trying to make yourself happier, you can’t go wrong by trying to become a better speaker and a better listener.

Programming Note: I will be reading all books in the order in which they were given to me. If you are reading along at home, the list is on the blog. 

And We’re Off!

A few years ago, I treated myself to a designer purse. Not a knock-off, not a “as made for Target by”, not off a folding table at a craft fair or a street corner – a real purse by a real designer. (Though not, sadly, Burberry. I’ll never be that good to myself.) I was on the annual Sister-in-Law Shopathon and just fell in love with a Kate Spade purse that had all the embellishments of Paddington Bear coat. It was glorious. It was on sale. It was all mine and as an added bonus, free, because my mom paid for it as a belated birthday present. That purse has sat on a shelf, in its protective bag, for years. YEARS. Why? Because it was so nice that I didn’t want to “waste it.” However, when I started this project, I realized that the only way to finish in 12 months (and shoehorn in a variety of my own reading choices), would be to carry a book with me at all times. The second book on the list (review to come next week because I am not finished it yet) talked about not saving the good china for a special occasion. Who knows if or when that occasion will ever occur and why should the good dishes go to waste? So, out came the purse. For the next few months (or until the season changes and wool is too warm to carry), I will proudly be carrying my actual, honest-to-God, designer purse with me, with a book neatly tucked away inside. I’m now well-read and well-accessorized!

So, I started the project by reading a book not on the list. There are just too many good books in the world for me to ignore. I spent a lot of time in front of my fireplace instead of in front of my television and I am pretty sure I didn’t miss anything significant. I do feel the clock ticking as I’m sure I’ll blow through some books and plod through others, but at least I’ve started.

#1 - The Boy Who Said No – Patti Sheehy

Recommended by: KR

The book tells the tale of Frank Menderos, a young man who tries to escape from Cuba in 1967.  

I liked it, but I didn’t love it. As a rip-roaring yarn told over drinks, this story would be fantastic. You wouldn’t notice the glossing over of details and how whole sections of his life are reduced to an “and then this happened” storytelling device. This book is classified as historical fiction, but if that is the case then I want a lot more history. If this is a true-life story of Frank, as told in the prologue, then it needed a lot less fiction. I can pinpoint the moment the entire book flew off the rails for me, and it was with this sentence: “I can only surmise what transpired.” I wish he hadn’t. His story would have had legs as a memoir and I really wish I was able to read that book instead of this one. All it did was leave me wanting more: more details, more history, and more culture. There were lots and lots of sections about his relationship with his girlfriend, and while that was necessary to inform the choices he made, they tended to drag. I wanted less kissing and more Communism. (That is a sentence that has probably never been said before.)  Overall, I think the fault is mine. Like with the Wicked series by Gregory Maguire, where the story he told about Oz was not the story I wanted to read, this story about Cuba was not, unfortunately, the one I wanted to read.   

As a side note, I also wish they had given this book a different title.  Ugh.  

Call Me Ishmael

You magnificent bastards.

I asked for 40 books and you gave me 60 (and counting!)  True, many of you gave me multiple books, but each pick counted. Some of you sent me private messages, warning me about content, or sharing why you want me to read a particular book. Others wrote me lovely letters. One of you even got me a copy of the book, personally inscribed by both the author and the person about whom the book was written. That person gets a double gold star.

Out of the 60 books on the list, I already own 22. Out of those 22, I have only read 16. One book showed up via Amazon (thanks beloved BIL). One showed up mysteriously in the back of my car and three need to be returned to their owner when I’m done. Thanks to a wicked pre-Christmas sale, another 17 are on their way via Better World Books, an online used book store that donates one book for every book bought. (I haven’t told my husband about that box yet. Here’s to hoping he doesn’t notice it among all the other deliveries this time of year. In my defense, each book was only $2.50.) I’ll pick up the rest as the months roll along.   

Many of you worried that I was too well read to have missed your favorite tome, but I assure you that the breadth and depth of my reading have been greatly exaggerated. I don’t read half as much as I’d like to nor half as much as you would expect me to. All of that is about to change.

I have to applaud you all on your choices. I will be reading Russian lit for the first time, after successfully avoiding it my entire life. I will be enjoying the history of the flu epidemic, after which I will need a chemical bath and a treatise on bee keeping, after which I’ll need some tea with honey.  I will get to learn about, in depth and in great detail, the lives of Abraham Lincoln, Ozzy Osborne, and Anthony Kiedis, an odd mix of individuals I wouldn’t think to invite to a dinner party. I’ll delve into fiction, non-fiction, history and self-help, children’s books and comic books, sci-fi and fantasy, and go both into thin air and into the wild. I’m almost dizzy with the thought of all the places I’ll go and all the people I’ll meet.

I am, however, a bit concerned about all the Cormac McCarthy I’m going to read. I’m also concerned that life growing up in the Pine Barrens was a whole lot darker than I ever imagined based on the book choices of those who grew up there.  

Anyway, join me on this journey through the reading lives of my friends and family. I’ll post a new blog every Friday with an update on what I have read, what I have thought, and what I plan to read next. Maybe you’ll read along, returning to lost loves or finding new ones along the way. Maybe you’ll ignore me entirely, going on about your own life, reading your own books. That’s fine too.

Either way, I’m pretty sure I’m going to need a bigger bookshelf. 

Here is a copy of the list as it currently stands.

1. The Boy Who Said No - Patti Sheehy
2. The Happiness Project - Gretchen Rubin
3. Verbal Judo by George Thompson
4. A Book of Bees - Sue Hubbell
5. The Burgess Boys - Elizabeth Strout.
6. American Wife – Curtis Sittenfeld
7. The Bridges of Madison County – Robert James Waller
8. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings – Maya Angelou
9. Where the Wild Things Are – Maurice Sendek
10. Leaving Time – Jodi Picoult
11. The Paris Wife – Paula McLain
12. House of Sand and Fog – Andre Dubos
13. The Little Prince – Autoine de Saint-Exupery
14. The Velveteen Rabbit – Margery Williams
15. The Family – Mario Puzo
16. I am Ozzy – Ozzy Osbourne
17. Object Lessons by Anna Quindlen-
18. Mornings in Jenin – Susan Abulhawa
19. Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society
20. Time Traveler's Wife – Audrey Niffenegger
21. A Question of Attraction  - David Nichols
22. The Forever War by Joe Haldeman
23. The Book Thief  - Marcus Zusak
24. A Prayer for Owen Meaney
25. A Dirty Job – Christopher Moore
26. Lamb – Christopher Moore
27. Running Man – Richard Bachman          
28. The Walking Dead – R Kirkman
29. Dragon’s of Autumn’s Twilight – Weis/Hickman
30. American Pastoral – Phillip Roth
31. The Charm School – Nelson DeMille
32. A Widow for One Year – John Irving
33. A Wrinkle in Time – Madeline L’Engle
34. The Hobbit – J.R.R. Tolkien
35. Dune – Frank Herbert
36. Angels of Repose – Wallace Stagner
37. Into Thin Air – Jon Krakaour
38. The Stand – Stephen King
39. The Big Influenza – John M. Barry
40. Team of Rivals – Doris Kearns Goodwin
41. The Most Beautiful Woman in Town – Charles Bukowski
42. My Dark Places
43. After Camelot – J. Randy Taraborrelli
44. What Alice Forgot – Liane Moriarty
45. Wifey – Judy Blume
46. Scar Tissue – Anthony Kiedis
47. High Fidelity – Nick Hornsby
48. Harry Potter and the Prizoner of Azkaban – J.K. Rowling
49. Freedom – Jonathan Franzen
50. The Post-Birthday World
51. Despair – Vladimir Nobokov
52. The Help – Kathryn Stockett
53. Me Before You – Jojo Moyes
54. The Road – Cormac McCarthy
55. No Country for Old Men – Cormac McCarthy
56. The Plot Against America – Phillip Roth
57. Into the Wild – Jon Krakauer
58. Founding Brothers – Joseph Ellis
59. What is the What – Dave Eggers
60. The Boys of Winter – Wayne Coffey
61. Blood Meridian – Cormac McCarthy
62. Guardians of the West – David Eddings 
63. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
64. Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind
65. Blindside - Robin Cook 

No Two Persons Ever Read the Same Book

So this week, I am going to turn 40. Yikes.

On Tuesday, lots and lots of you are going to wish me a happy birthday. I will be grateful for each and every one of them. Truly.

But, instead of just a message, can you tell me your favorite book? The one that you never want to read again because it was so good or the one you read over and over again because it was so good. Tell me the one book that changed your life, your mind, or your heart. Which one made you laugh until you cried, or helped you cry it out so that you were ready to laugh again? Which book do you quote endlessly? Did you name your pets or your kids after a character in a book? Which one? Do you have fond memories of reading this book, or reading it to someone? Let me know.

My goal for this, my 40^th year, is to read all the books you recommend. I’ll keep track and comment along the way. It will be a neat way to reconnect with many of you and to get a little insight into what makes you tick. Tell me the title and author. You can tell me why you love it in great detail, or you can remain silent and let me try to figure it out. I don’t need to know why this book sings to you above all others, and hopefully, you won’t be too upset if it doesn’t sing to me.

I just feel like going into such an important year that I should have a project. I want to connect with all of my friends, both near and far, in a meaningful way. Tell me your favorite book and I promise I will read it (if I haven’t already). As I finish each book, I’ll blog about it. It will be my way of saying thanks for your friendship, for your thoughts, and for sharing something you loved.

Take a few days and think about it. Then, on Tuesday, post on my wall, send me a message, e-mail me, leave me a voice mail, e-mail, or text message. Send me a card. Hell, send me a copy of the book (used, new, borrowed, blue, I’m not picky) if you are really feeling generous. I’m hoping to collect 40 recommendations to read during my 40^th year.

“It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it.” 
― Oscar Wilde

Boycott the Boycott

I saw a news story today about the number of stores and malls that will remain open on Thanksgiving to cater to shoppers. Many of them are no longer waiting until the butt-crack of dawn on Friday morning, or even the dark of midnight on Thursday. Nope, now you can start shopping as early as 6pm on Thursday at many malls, outlets, and retailers near you.

And?

The comments on the article basically cry out in agony for those poor retail workers ripped from the bosom of their family to stand behind a register and ring up the unwashed masses buying things they don’t need with money they don’t have. I have been there, done that, and worn the corporate-issued apron. It sucked, sure, but it was a sacrifice I had to make for a paycheck I needed. I could have quit. But then I wouldn’t have had a job or a paycheck. No one who gets into retail does so blindly. If you don’t realize that it may mean working on a holiday, then shame on you.

I’ve seen other articles applauding certain retail stores for refusing to open on Thanksgiving. Those stores publicly declared that they would remain closed so that their employees could enjoy the day with family. Well isn’t that nice. It is a noble statement, but if you follow the money you will see that the stores that are staying closed are doing so because they don’t benefit from the bump of midnight shopping. They may be unwilling or unable to offer a discount on their items, or their overhead costs are higher than their sales, or their target demographic prefers other incentives to entice them into the store. Business is business. Target is open because Wal-Mart is open because Best Buy is open.

Along those lines, the Internet is ALWAYS open. This is a brave new world and Amazon is always ready for business.  Do you think those retailers who are closed on Thanksgiving aren’t open online? Please. Free Shipping! Online Only Deals! Bonus Gift Cards! Triple Reward Points! You can shop all day long on Thanksgiving without ever leaving the comfort of your living room.

And let’s follow that thread a little further down the line. What are millions upon millions of Americans doing on Thanksgiving (besides shopping)? They are watching football. Do you think the concession stand guy wants to be away from his family? Are the security staff, the maintenance crew, the cameramen, or the parking lot attendants  thrilled to be standing out in the cold watching the pigskin fly? If you work for the Detroit Lions or the Dallas Cowboys (or in their stadiums), then you know you are working. If you work for any number of sports-related TV shows, then you are working. Sure, the above the line guys are well-compensated for missing the holiday and probably have an awesome spread set out in crafts services, but the make-up team who keeps Jimmy Johnson’s hair so poofy? Do you think anyone asked them if they want to work? I don’t. The quarterback is making his millions, but there are literally dozens of people on that field who aren’t. Yet we don’t weep over them being kept from family dinners because we are too busy enjoying the fruits of their labors. 

Lots of people have to work on Thanksgiving. Those in the armed services usually get commercials reminding us of their sacrifice and rightly so. But no one laments the fate of the doctors, nurses, cops, pilots, and countless other professionals that are also stuck working on Thanksgiving. I’ve never heard anyone complain about the Thanksgiving Day parades that take place all over our country, even though they surely require people to be away from family on the holiday. Al Roker needs to eat turkey too, you know. However, somewhere in our collective heads, there is a distinction between the people who work due to honor versus those who work for money. Well you know what? There is no distinction. It sucks for everyone, equally. You can do your job with a smile or with a sulk, you can hold a gun with bullets or one loaded with SKU numbers, but we the people shouldn’t feel sorry for you. I will empathize and I will sympathize, but I will not patronize.    

So with all of this in mind, I think it is ridiculous to call for a boycott. You don’t want to shop, stay home. But you should also stay off the Internet and if you are a Nielson family, turn off your television. Don’t buy gas, or milk, or a newspaper from the corner store. Don’t call 911. Don’t go to the hospital or the airport.  But try to remember when you do finally hit the stores to actually smile at the cashier, thank the clerk who helped you find something, and keep your patience when the lines get too long and the stores get too hot. Make eye contact with those behind the counter. Smile. When you say thank you, mean it.  Those same retail workers who you wept about on Thursday are the same ones behind the register on Friday, or Tuesday, and every other day of the week.     

Splish Splash

I moved my chair at the pool today.

This may sound like a relatively minor accomplishment. Pool chairs aren’t known for being heavy. Moving it isn't a crime. I didn’t steal it. It is still in the shade – an absolute requirement to keep the goats at bay, but I moved it nonetheless.

Why is this a blog worthy? Simple. It means my kids have grown up again.

When I joined the town pool, it was during the month of August. My little guy was potty trained so I avoided baby pool jail entirely. Our pool is shaped like the letter L. The short part of the letter never gets deeper than three and a half feet. For the entire month of August, my little guy played on the stairs, splashing in two feet of water, happy as a clam. He brought in toys, played well with others, but he never, ever got off of those steps. I set up my chair directly in front of him and neither of us moved for a month. The pool is empty at that time of year as everyone is finally free of swim team obligations and rushes off to vacations and the shore. We were very happy in our little corner of the world. My daughter, always more adventurous and a far better swimmer, happily frolicked in the rest of that section, never once crossing the rope lines into the longer part of the el, where the pool water deepens to eight feet.

The following year we joined the pool for the entire summer. My daughter earned the ability to cross the barrier and even venture into the diving well. While she still had to tell me when she left one pool to go to the other, she was free to swim by herself. My son moved off the steps, but stayed firmly in the three foot section. Only once did he venture into three and a half foot territory and it scared the bejesus out of him. So that was another summer where I could be found firmly planted in the same chair, under the same tree, enjoying the same shade.

Last year, my daughter earned her green band the first day the pool opened and I pretty much set her free to roam the grounds at will. She checked in from time to time to ask for money for the snack stand or to find out which friends were on their way, but otherwise, she was on her own. My son’s friends were starting to earn the ability to swim in the big pool, but he still needed to be accompanied by an adult. I sent my husband in whenever possible. Nothing amused me more than to see him being attacked by multiple small children at once. On hot days, I even deigned to go in and play with the kids myself. But for the most part, my little guy was still pretty happy in his own little fiefdom in the short el.

Oh, how things have changed. This year, my daughter started sunning herself on a towel on the grassy hill “just like the big girls” and I thought my husband was going to have a heart attack. She has started bringing her own money to the pool and disappears for hours. (Truthfully, I can stand up and see her from anywhere since I make damn sure she has the brightest suits there. She enjoys the illusion of freedom; I enjoy the illusion of proper parenting. It works out well for both of us.) My son decided that it was time to earn his band and move into the longer part of the el. All of his buddies can swim in that section and since I prefer reading and gossiping to actually swimming, his patience has run out. No longer does he want to beg for me to come in with him, or hope that one of the big kids is willing to stay with him while he plays. Oh no. His time is now. So he took the test, swimming two laps and then treading water for a minute. Viola! No child was happier to slip a yellow cord around their ankle than mine. (He still isn’t ready for the diving well, thank God.)

So now, I have to move my chair. No longer can I sit in my corner by the steps and watch him splash happily. No longer can I watch him play in the short section, happy among his peers. Nope, now I have to face the long el, the big pool, the one filled with teenagers taking selfies underwater, and tweens doing cannonballs, and the older folks gamely doing laps. He still isn’t the strongest swimmer and until he gets more comfortable in the deep end, I am going to be keeping a well-trained eye on him because that yellow band doesn’t make him invincible, no matter what he thinks. So if you are looking for me, I’m now facing an entirely different direction. I’ve moved my chair. Care to join me?