Happy New Year!

It's 11:52 and I'm going to bed. I'm sure I'll still be brushing my teeth or something when midnight rolls around, but the party is over at our house.

We had a great time playing with Kelly and Jerry and their kids, until about 10:30 and then I wanted to get my book reviews caught up so that they counted for December instead of January. I'm right on track to complete my goal of 75 books by May. So, forgive the typos as I haven't edited them yet. Yeah...I know about the whole "post options" that lets me change the time and I could have written them tomorrow and credited them to today, but I'm a purist that way:)

Here's to a great new year!

Book Review #44 - On Chesil Beach

What a disappointment! I really enjoy McEwen's writing style and 90% of this book had me reeled in. But the climax of this book is so mind-blowing retarded that it loses any recommendation points from me.

On Chesil Beach is a story about Edward and Florence. Two educated and good people, they marry as virgins due to their own personalities and also the expectations of the current times (the story takes place in 1962.) , McEwen effortlessly drifts between the thoughts and backgrounds of his two major characters. It's as if you get to be both characters for a moment.

This dance of thoughts between characters weaves between about a two-hour stretch of real time on their wedding night. All building up for The Marriage Act.

When it goes horribly wrong, the book falls apart. The book jacket exclaims, "A story of lives transformed by a gesture not made or a word not spoken."

Puh-leeze!

O.K...here's a spoiler alert. Do not read this if you are going to read the book and hate all pre-knowledge about a book.






I'll try to be tactful, but remember...they are married and they were both virgins. So, this isn't really a "naughty" book, only an attempt at describing an awkward situation between two people who love each other but lack the depth of communication expected and needed between most people at that level in a relationship.

Basically, right before the moment of consummation, he is so excited by her touch that he unwillingly finishes too early. Way too early. It disgusts her and she runs out of their room and onto the beach.

He is angry and heartbroken and disappointed as is she.

They finally confront each other with their own feelings and have a fight. Not an extraordinary fight. Not even an extraordinarily cruel one. But things were said in frustration and embarrassment.

And then she leaves. He goes back to their room after her and she is gone. Their marriage gets annulled and the story fast forwards about 40 years (but only for Edward. The reader gets no future knowledge of Florence except from a newspaper review that Edward reads.)

I suppose it could happen. But McEwen attempts to dramatize communication, and how what is said or unsaid can alter events (pretty much a universal rule, I think) and he ruins a perfectly good story with a highly unlikely and disappointing ending. I didn't believe it. Or, if it did happen, then it was unnecessary and ridiculous.

Sorry if I ruined it for you, but I so enjoyed Atonement and the appropriate consequences of THAT "what if", that this story, in subject matter and result, gets a big thumbs down from me.

Book Review #43 - Me Talk Pretty One Day

Marjorie, a girl in our Blogger Bookclub, has become known as the Devid Sedaris girl. She's an intelligent, stylish girl, so I thought I'd give him a try.

He is totally my kind of author. Not only that, I want to write like him. Funny, self-depreciating, honest and perceptive, I enjoyed (almost) this entire book.

He can be crass. There is an entire chapter I skipped because almost every other word on the page was horribly vulgar, but he was writing about his horribly vulgar brother and using a lot of quotation marks. I skipped it, and all the other chapters were delightful.

I was able to do that because this is not a novel or a biography. It's mostly essays written autobiographically. The kind of book where each chapter can have its own discussion.

Some were better than others. They can't all be home runs. But, as a whole, the book shines due to the writing. It's a pleasure to read.

Thanks Marjorie!

Book Review #42 - Housekeeping

I found this book while researching books on Good Reads. Marilynne Robinson is the author of Gilead, which is a very popular book among readers this season, and just to be that much different (I know... I'm such a stand-out), I read her previous novel, which came as highly recommended.

I can see why book lovers like her. She vividly details each scene. Suddenly, a page is full of the texture of the bedspread and the lighting in the room and the placement of the shoes on a certain side of the bed. But said with such description that you imagine it perfectly.

These are the sorts of things the word lover enjoys. But...alas...I am not so much of a word lover. A word liker, yes. I want my sentences written correctly and a book well constructed, but I'm not going to search out every word and "ah" at a sentence's end because it was pretty.

Ultimately, this book didn't have enough of the stuff I enjoy, mainly a moving story with good character. If I have to describe the story, I'd say it's vaguely specific. So many "why"s and "how"s ignored but so much detail described in other parts. It has a romantic, almost foggy feel. But that might just be because that's what the cover looks like and it stuck with me.

Lastly, I felt the author was too hung up on tying in her title throughout the story. Like, she had the title very early on and kept using it, in all its varieties, so that the reader could feel like the story had a purpose. I'd give examples...but there are too many. It isn't that subtle.

I know there are some of you who love the words. You'd probably love this book. But it wasn't one of my favorites.

Book Review #41 - Good In Bed

Even though this isn't the Blogger Book Club book until February, I went ahead and re-read it because it had been six years!

I still enjoyed it.

Weiner tells the story about a confident woman, who works as a journalist for a paper in Philadelphia, who breaks up with her author boyfriend only to find an article written by him in a magazine about "Loving a Larger Woman".

The article begins, "I remember the day I found out my girlfriend weighed more than I did."

Aaack!

Perhaps it is all the large girl humor I find so appealing. She really nails so much of it. And Cammie, her protagonist, is a great character. Lots of zingers and thoughts and comebacks that make you want to hang out with her in real life.

Like most of Weiner's books (and I have read most of them now), she tends to create a melodrama in what most readers simply want to be a comedy. The conflict, which all books must have, blows up too much and makes the book lose its sparkle. I also have a problem with the reality of one part, which I will wait to discuss with my fellow readers, instead of lodging my complaint here.

Regardless of its imperfections, this is a fun, entertaining, interesting and honest story that most readers (do NOT recommend this for your ward book club - that mistake does not need to be repeated) would enjoy.

Book Review #40 - The Subtle Knife

I am not a fan of forwarded emails. They frustrate me, because they usually come from the same group of people, people I like a great deal but who never send me a normal "hey, how's it going?" message. Just "Support our Troops" or "Tell every woman you know she's special" or "Microsoft is running a test and if you send this you could get a check for $1,000!" When I see the letters FWD in the subject line, I usually simply delete it.

I lost track of the number of emails I received telling me about the Anti-God movie The Golden Compass and the need to boycott the movies and the books. It was well over ten. Ten people wanted me to send that email on to everyone I know, telling them the same thing. Don't see this movie! Don't read these books! Alert! Alert! Alert!

Nothing like calling attention to something like a planned boycott. I haven't seen the movie, because I'm cheap and it's not something I'd take my kids to or something I'd be prone to see anyway, but as I had already read the first book in the series, enjoyed it and hadn't found it to be Anti-God, I was curious to read the next to see what the fuss was all about.

I don't know if the emails worked and I read with a bias, but I did not enjoy this second book. Not because it is Anti-God...which it really isn't, but more anti organized religion and organized religion's version of god, but because the writing is bad.

Dialogue - choppy.

Descriptions - cliched. (how do I get that little accent marking over the e?)

Storyline - totally falters.

I felt enormously disappointed in the direction of this book. Lyra, the young female protagonist in search of dust and her father, all but disappears in this second story. She still plays a part, but now as the sidekick to Will, a new character who is a giant "young adult fiction" stereotype (in search of the father he never knew while protecting his mother from bad guys and seems to be gifted in the combat department). I don't remember the writing being bad in the first book. I thought it descriptive and unique and thoughtful. Not so, in The Subtle Knife. Pullman changes gears and loses focus. There is a lot more going on and none of it is developed well. I stopped caring about the characters and their goals.

I think these books had great potential. There could be a lot to discuss with adolescents (not young children...at all). The nature of the soul, the natural man, the costs and benefits of religions. All appropriate things to discuss with youth ready to question and discover on their own.

Pullman takes that conversation away with his lack of metaphor. It becomes impossible to argue, "I think the dust means this." or "what do you think The Authority is for Pullman?" when he throws his opinion at you with real life Christian beliefs. It's inappropriate and unfair. Write a fantasy or a satire or a parable if you want to. Other authors have done it...and done it well.

Pullman didn't.

I won't be reading the third book.

Christmas Break....I Suppose

Remember the days when a holiday actually meant a vacation? I have many fond memories of sitting around during those two glorious weeks off and reading, shopping, eating, sleeping, skiing, sledding, snowmobiling, watching movies and playing games. Furthermore, all of this festivity and vacationing was usually accomplished while also reuniting with family and friends.

To this I say: Sorry, Mom. And sorry to my mother-in-law.

I abused you.

I mean, wow...when you don't go anywhere, and you don't have family visiting, and your husband still has to work his normal workload and school is out, the vacation turns out quite different.

For instance, I still have to cook. People still get hungry and want to eat and there is no food magically appearing around suppertime after a day of games. Oh...and that day of games? It isn't happening either.

I feel like a grown-up...and not in the good way.

It hasn't been bad. It's just been too normal. I have always counted on this burst of holiday cheer to get me though the rest of the dreary winter. I suppose I'm just going to have to put a lot of emphasis on the good stuff that's happened.

Seth won the family fantasy football championship. I had it two years ago (although I came in 11th of 12 teams this year) and then Uncle Darren had it. We say it has rightfully returned home.

It's called the Krafty Blue Bowl, in honor of Grandpa's old horse.

We frosted Christmas cookies. I had ordered a dozen from a gluten-free bakery and then we never decorated them for the big day. So, even though Christmas had past, we still managed to frost and...yes...eat them.

Seth snitches some cream cheese frosting.

Anyone want to guess how well Henry and frosting mix? I'm still finding it on things.

Outside after one of the several batches of new snow we've had this week.

Super Sam

Seth thought it was fun to throw snowballs. Henry though differently.

Seth and Sam had been having lightsaber wars and after a while, I noticed it was quiet. I thought it very unlikely that both boys had spontaneously fallen asleep in the middle of the room, and on further inspection found them both to be "playing dead."

Sammy has always had a great death scene and while Seth could hardly keep his legs still, Sammy was convincing. He even had his eyes half open for part of the time.

My favorite thing was meeting some fellow bloggers for brunch on Friday. Kelly A. is in town for the holiday and had some of her fans come adore her at a local cafe. Next to me is Kelly's cute sister Lori, then Kelly...across the table is Andie, who is fashionably delightful and Denise, a kindred spirit for sure.

We're officially putting the whole "internet/blogging friend" bit to rest. We are simply good friends. Kelly is a star.

Jay made my entire week by preparing a fabulous chile verde meal from scratch. Roasted the tomatillos, slow cooked the pork. It was awesome. I'm hoping it becomes some sort of tradition.

We made it to the Children's Museum yesterday. It was very, very, very crowded, but Jay was there so I could simply follow Henry. He could have cared less if he knew where I was, so it was up to me to know where he was.

Favorite place was the balls. He loved lifting up this cover and having the wind blow his face. Then, when the cover is closed, it becomes like one of those bank vacuums and sucks the ball up the tube.

His face when the ball zooms up.

When I bunch it all together, we look like party animals! Or at least alive and kicking.

The Antidote

One of the known perks of blogging is taking more pictures than usual. Not just staged pictures on the big days, but more of the "here is where I went" or "here are my Christmas decorations" or even "here are these two creepy middle aged people making out in a park".

For a person prone to fits of irritability when I lose sight of the BIG picture, taking pictures of the maddening moments has become downright therapeutic.

It is a comfort knowing that sweet validity is only a blog post away. When I get it out and share, then the score goes back to zero and I can handle the next insane, incredible, boring, hilarious, normal and outrageous thing that comes my way.

As I was talking to my dad on his Christmas/my Christmas Eve, he was laughing about all of the mischief Henry seems to create. I found myself laughing along and told him that what I caught on camera isn't even half of what he is capable of.

Since then, I've really tried to document each mess, each disaster, each discovery as I come upon them. Most times, simply getting out the camera keeps me from losing my mind and scaring my children. Not always, but it's helping.

Today, I think he may have ruined his most expensive thing yet, and I didn't even yell. I just walked over to my purse, took out my camera and snapped a few.

I'm not sure which method, if any, will cure Henry of his penchant for destroying anything he can get his tiny hands on; but I believe that I may have found the perfect antidote for dealing with it.

I give you:

Monday through Friday

Sister Jen sent a lovely gift in my favorite shade. Henry managed to get it out of its little box, the cap off and the damage done before I got to pucker up even once.

He found a new DVD and took it out of its sleeve and left his mark all over it. It plays alright...but why can't he leave well enough alone?

He broke this ornament because he was...

standing on top of the table where he pulled it off of its ribbon and crushed it in his own hand.

I fed him a snack up on the barstool and apparently left a marker close enough by. I'm such a rookie still.

Scrubbing Bubbles on the leather office chair.

Grape flavored Tylenol spilled on the carpet. I know! I'm about to report myself to CPS!

My coat was hanging on the back of this barstool and he pulled on it so that the barstool tipped over. When I pulled it back up, I noticed a piece was missing.

Yeah...you just try to get it back on. Like I don't notice the splintered wood.

But...in his defense. He's not even two. And maybe, possibly, hopefully...his curiosity and determination and absolute lack of personal censoring will be a power for good someday.

Until then...expect more pictures.

Oh....Henry.

The Magic Is Gone

I've been having a temper tantrum all day. I don' t know if I didn't get enough sleep last night or what, but my fuse has been awfully short.

To make matters worse, Jay absentmindedly(and completely innocently) told his brother during a phone call about the miraculous attainment of our Wii while Seth and Sam were playing it in the same room. I actually heard his end of the conversation, thought about shouting downstairs to "pipe down" but thought that would only draw attention to what he said. I let it be and continued to grunt and fume for very little reason at all.

While Jay and I were both taking a break upstairs and reading in bed, Seth came upstairs and started prattling in a sing-songy voice, "I know that you guys are Santa Claus! I heard you talking on the phone!"

Silence.

I waited for Jay to fix it while I stared at my book, both to keep Seth from seeing the horror and disappointment in my eyes, and also to keep my body language indifferent.

Jay immediately explained that, indeed, the Wii was from us, but everything else was really from Santa. Seth's rebuttal was that, no, all the writing on the presents was in the same handwriting and the wrapping paper was the same.

Totally busted.

And I was so sad. And mad.

Jay gave me lots of room to blow off steam and didn't say a word while I got up, got dressed, went downstairs and proceeded to take down every single Christmas decoration...including the tree.

Very immature, but in my heartbreak over his loss of innocence, and the way in which it happened, I coped by declaring Christmas over. I spent the day boxing things up, vacuuming up pine needles and moving furniture back to its rightful place.

I don't know if it was the right thing to do. Normally, we have the tree up until New Year's. There is a part of me that thinks that perhaps I acted a bit hasty tearing it all down. I'm not nearly as upset now and get that it was a mistake, one that I very easily could have made any number of times this last week as I retold the exact same story to several different people, only I was lucky enough to not get caught by a certain boy with Elephant Ears.

Jay is forgiven. I'm more upset at the fact that Seth knows than how he knows. I feel like we only got a couple of fun years. You know...at first they are clueless, then oblivious, then they get it and it's so fun. I thought I had a few more of those. But, I don't. Life goes on. It was bound to happen eventually. Blah, blah, blah.

But what about next year? Is everything now going to be, "Wink, wink...don't tell your brothers?" Can I depend on him to be a good enough actor at eight years old?

I don't know. But, in the meantime, at least my downstairs is clean.

Merry Christmas 2007

As Sammy has been saying all day, "This has been a great Christmas!" We had a wonderful time last night with Cousins at Aunt Peg's and Uncle Darren's that involved acting out the nativity story, eating yummy soup, playing games and eating rice pudding with one of the bowls containing a hidden almond whose bowl owner wins a prize. The roads were horrible and we wondered if we were being smart traveling in such poor conditions, but as nothing bad happened, we are really glad we went.

We got home at 9:30 and gave the boys their Christmas pajamas. I love matching my boys, and I thought these stripes were really cute. The boys went to bed and the grown-ups got to work wrapping presents while watching A Christmas Carol. We were ready for bed around 1:30 am and hoped that this year, none of our kids would wake up early.

They didn't and slept until 7:40 when we all went downstairs and watched them play with their gifts from Santa and then dug into the rest of the gifts. We had a big yummy breakfast, played some new games, and have mostly been enjoying the Wii for the rest of the day. I'm satisfied that it will be a great family activity.

The boy's new NASCAR track.

Seth's giant present from Grandpa and Grandma - it's a bowling set.

Henry stuffing his mouth with swedish fish.

Rex and Bekki sent us perfect gifts. Bronco stuff for the boys and some hilarious gifts that don't really need to be shown for me and Jay.

Sigh - but what's Christmas day without the mess?

We're having so much fun with the Wii. I'm a really bad at baseball and bowling though. Jay got me an 80's cartridge with 150 additional songs for my Karaoke system. When the TV gets a free moment, I'll throw on my ripped sweatshirt, moon boots and parachute pants and sing to my hearts content.

What a great day!

Then and Now

Nothing like looking back to see how far we've truly come.

December 19th, 1996:

Spent the day (well...at least an hour. Remember, I'm low maintenance) getting myself looking fine for my big moment. Spent hours happily smiling for pictures, hours more kissing my new husband, hours more driving in a blizzard to West Yellowstone hoping I didn't die on my wedding day and hours more enjoying being a Mrs.

December 19th, 2007:

Spent the day doing laundry, going to the library with Jay and the boys, standing in line at the post office to mail some last minute Christmas gifts, running into a grocery store to get Very Vanilla Silk (that's the highly specialized soymilk because he leaves sippy cup after sippy cup of regular milk AND regular soymilk untouched) for a certain spoiled toddler.

Finally, at 6:00 at night, we left with Maureen to the Grand America to celebrate our love with 1200 of our closest friends (the tabernacle choir/orchestra/bellchoir/conductors/organists and president and prophet of the LDS church). We had a delicious dinner, we were able to enjoy a performance by Jon Schmidt at the piano, listen to our funny and tender prophet speak, and watch the ongoings of some of the "bigger personalities" in the area.

The hotel was beautiful, and since Maureen went on our third date with us (we went to see Braveheart at Movies 8 and it was then when we first held hands), it seemed only natural to share the evening with her as well. Seriously, it was a fun night to dress up, get a babysitter and enjoy a fancy night on the town all for the low, low cost of...nothing!

Thanks to Maureen, we enjoyed a beautiful night at a beautiful hotel.

Our yummy meal of fish and steak

Just an intimate dinner for...1200.

But, not everyone gets to spend their anniversary dining with the prophet

Me and my sweetie.

No, it's not a goblet. It's a candle.

December 20th, 1996:

Spent the day driving to my hometown, checking into the romance suite at the cutest little B&B in town and later hugging and laughing with a room full of people who came to congratulate us on our happiness (although Jay did go down that night with a fever and nasty cold, so it wasn't incident free).

Not in the picture is a beautiful four-poster bed.

December 20th, 2007:

Spent the morning grocery shopping, left Sam with my sister-in-law, did some Christmas shopping with Henry, picked up Sam and Kelly's two oldest children for Music Makers at Melanie's house, fixed dinner, found Henry in dryer, practiced songs with Maureen, watched football and chatted with Clark and Stephanie.

Trouble

Deep, deep trouble.

December 21st, 1996:

Drove across the border to the breathtakingly beautiful, but bitterly cold Banff National Park. Checked into a cozy cottage and started a fire. Enjoyed day one of our northern honeymoon.

December 21st, 2007:

Received a call from my frazzled RS president wondering if I'd forgotten my assignment for our ward Sub for Santa. I had bought the stuff, but hadn't wrapped it so I dropped what I was doing (working on our Christmas letter), and rushed the presents over to her house. Spent the next five hours pulling my hair out because I had written the letter in Word Perfect (I prefer it) but couldn't format it to print at Kinkos unless it was in word. After much editing and some tantrums on my part, came downstairs to find a huge mess downstairs but had to leave it for later. Ran to Kinkos to print letter. Came home to fold, address and get letters in the mail by 5:00.

I had barely dropped off my Christmas cards at the post office, when I remembered my special order of gluten free pies and cookies that I had to pick up at a gluten free store. Drove around on the Friday before Christmas vacation in rush hour traffic. Perfect ending to a mind-numbing day. Came home and began picking up 1,000 pieces of plastic all over the downstairs carpet.

They are hard to see and impossible to vacuum up. Not just in this room, but all over the downstairs were these plastic shards made from left over clear plastic cups from our ward Christmas party. He got his tiny little hands on about 100 cups and made more mess than I thought possible in thirty minutes. Also, notice the constant floor display of ornaments. It's a losing battle I fight daily.

December 22, 1996:

Woke up to realize our car wouldn't start due to the sub-zero temperatures. Jay called a tow company who jumped our car (for $50 dollars...what a rip off) and we went ice skating on Lake Louise and then to have lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe. Our trick to avoiding another costly jump? We left the car running all day. And night. For the rest of our honeymoon.

December 22, 2007:

Drove down to Las Vegas for BYU's bowl game as an anniversary gift to each other. Had no idea that it would take nine hours to get there (traffic, construction, stops). Still, the conversation with Clark and Stephanie kept me sane, as well as the amusement from trying to avoid watching Stephanie's brother and his new girlfriend kissing in the back seat of our van. Starting making the first of many jokes about the oft-used but never abused catch-phrase "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas".

Got to the game on time, but missed the first three plays because they only have one entrance into their parking lot and 30,000 other people were trying to get in at the same time. The game was a lot fun. We were mixed in with the UCLA crowd, but our seats were incredible, right on the 50 yard line, and even though it wasn't the most exciting game in history, the ending certainly was worth paying for the live event. Go Cougs!

Fans, family, friends and fun!

View from our awesome seats.

The final score. Luckily.

I had to prove that the trip was, indeed, an anniversary event and not merely another football game. Getting Jay to pose for a couple picture, and not do something goofy takes some quick thinking.

Jay re-enacted the dramatic ending seconds after the blocked field goal for me.

many fans rushed onto the field. We did not. Those days have long since passed.

Spent the next hour trying to get out of the parking lot (now 45,000 people trying to get out that same one gate), another 45 minutes trying to check into the Sahara (isn't Vegas in the hotel business? This is the best they can do at 11:00 at night?) another 30 minutes walking to a part of the strip where they actually have stuff going on (Caesar's Palace and the Cheesecake Factory for a midnight meal) and no time at all running out of the casino with my eyes on the floor trying to avoid the ladies dancing around the poles in their black lacy things (at this hour, the only way the security people would let us out of the building. I'm not in love with Vegas. Can you tell?)

This is the check-in line at the Sahara Hotel. I was not a happy camper right now. My poor traveling companions saw my least favorite personality. Whiny, grumbly, ornery Lucy.

December 23, 1996:

Spent the day inside our cozy cottage with a fire in the fireplace. Went out that night to the Fairmont Banff Hotel and spent more money on dinner than we ever had in our lifetime. We ate duck covered with a fancy sauce and danced on the beautiful wood parquet floor. Car...still on all the time.

like a fairy tale. Only our fairy tale took place in 30 degree below zero conditions.

December 23, 2007:

Had overpriced breakfast buffet (but still good. I simply didn't like the extra we had to pay because it was their special weekend "brunch" which meant there were things like meatloaf, sweet and sour chicken, sushi and crab legs that I did not even think about eating). Walked through the hotel's NASCAR memorabilia (a highlight for Jay), drove down the rest of the Las Vegas strip we didn't get to see last night and started on the seven hour drive home. We were much more subdued on the drive home and girlfriend was no longer with us, but it was fun and we had great conversation nonetheless. Picked up Seth and Sam from Aunt Peg's house and were greeted by a happy Henry who was watched by Aunt Sarah. Enjoyed a quiet night on my couch while painfully realizing that tomorrow is actually Christmas Eve. How did that happen?

Clark was the baconator. Hey...why pass up all-you-can-eat bacon? He's still too young to worry about arteries and such.

Jay and Dale

Jay and Rusty Wallace.

Jay and his favorite driver. Some multimillionaire who won't shave or be nice.

Not much has changed, huh? We're still trying to do way too much before Christmas which makes the holiday hectic. While I've cursed this December anniversary more than once, I'm still glad we took the trouble to celebrate "us" both times. Even if our present is a little more complicated than it was eleven years ago.

Now, we're down to the wire and I'm pretty sure I'm not totally ready for Tuesday. Which means tomorrow will be a nail biter. It's not really how I want the day to be, but I'm going to do my best to remember that Christmas Eve is really....usually...and potential still, my favorite day of the year.