Derby Drama

Friday night was the annual Pinewood Derby. This was the first time Seth actually participated in one as his former pack opted to do the Space Derby last year. Seth, with his mathematical mind, debated about the shape and decided the wedge would be the most aerodynamic with the best weight distribution (I was impressed that he cared).

I took no part in the design of his car, nor did I watch any of the building sessions, so I can't accurately describe the process. I saw Seth sanding his car several times and I spent more than one evening inside by myself while Jay was in the garage, so feel confident that while Seth definitely had his dad's help, it was still "his" car. To help matters, there was an open family-fun competition after the official derby, and Jay made two more cars that got a lot more of his attention - guilt free.

The evening was well organized as the cub master is a well-organized person. The rules were clear, the racing started at a decent time (I remember going to one that started over an hour later than advertised) and there was yummy food to nibble on for us spectators.

With only seven boys participating and a double elimination bracket, the actual racing was over quickly. It was also oddly quiet throughout the entire evening. I think all the boys had been coached and reminded about good sportsmanship that they were all more subdued than usual.

As soon as Seth raced his car, we knew he had a fast one. I was excited to see him so excited. I was proud of him as he shook hands with his competitor after each race and took care of his little car in between races.

All the cars that raced that evening, including the non-legal family ones.

Seth's car

The cub-scout's cars minus one.

Jay's other two cars. The one on the left he designed to be fast and the other one was inspired from his love of NASCAR and Tony Stewart.

Seth led everyone in the Pledge of Allegiance.

Seth's first race, when we first realized that he had a fast car.

Seth and his friend, Clay, who would end up in the championship round with him.

One of the 2 races in the championship (they switched lanes and raced best 2 out of 3. Seth won it in 2, but it was really close!)

Seth receiving his 1st place trophy from his cub-master and den leader.

Our own March Madness

We celebrated at Dairy Queen afterward. Seth wanted the large cone. It was large. Sam was jealous.

Clearly, we were bothering the other customers with our raucous party. (Clark, Stephanie and Ethan visited all week and came with Grandpa and Grandma to the race. They missed the race, but got plenty of details from us.)

My sister Sarah came for the weekend too. Again, we are party animals.

Co-creators of the winning car. We tried coming up with a name, but nothing stuck.

Close-up proof that I was there too.

I'm happy for Seth. I'm happy for Jay. I'm happy for the other scouts who were good sports and built fine cars. I'm especially happy that I didn't have to do a single thing for this except show up. Oh...and make meatballs.

Congrats, Seth!

An Infomercial

One of the things I like about the Internet is the great speed at which ideas can now be shared. Blogs make it that much easier, if you know where to look. I've often envied those creative minds or savvy shoppers who share their expertise so the rest of us can enjoy the fruit as well. Sadly, not being one of those creative minds, I've never really had anything to share.

This certainly isn't my idea, or my product, but it's something that I found online that works so brilliantly that I think some of you might appreciate me sharing.

Many of our Wii games, and I don't even know how many of our DVDs, have significant scratches. Significant enough that 5 of the Wii games were no longer working, and movies became half as long because we'd have to fast-forward when it froze (which didn't really matter because the movie was inevitably one of the episodes of Star Wars, which have been viewed dozens of times). All of this carless waste was getting some major, major "grrrrrr"s from Mom. I saw online that toothpaste with baking soda sometimes works so I tried that. No go.

Then I read that a metal cleaner called Brasso. Tried that. Didn't work.

There were several other home remedies including light bulbs and aluminum foil, but I stopped trying because they seemed a little kooky. On a hope and a prayer (or, I should say my childrens' hopes and prayers because they were getting tired of getting yelled at), I ordered SkipDR on Amazon.com. While not as cheap as toothpaste, it was cheaper than buying 5 new games.



It works! All of our discs are repaired and it's like Christmas all over again. The boys just kept bringing me scratched DVDs and Wii games to fix. There is no effort involved, unless you consider spraying water and wiping it dry effort. The little machine does all the buffing and has made me about 10X less paranoid when I hear Henry downstairs getting into the movie drawer.

That's all. I wish the idea was my own but all I can claim is the now fervent testimony of it. I give it my full endorsement.

Book Review #44 - The Forever War

Dexter Filkins, the author of The Forever War, is a New York Times foreign correspondent who covered the middle east from Afghanistan's Taliban rule in 1998 to Iraq through 2006.

I should probably confess right away that I'm not a fan of journalism. I resent the whole idea of getting information from people who who are in the business of selling it. I don't know what the alternative would be, but still....it seems like a conflict of interest.

On top of that, there is the issue of bias. We all have it. I'm not sure it's possible to communicate without it. So, when it's somebody's job to write/talk/share about an issue, I don't believe anyone is completely able to leave it out. It's a lot more obvious to detect when your own bias stands in opposition. I can't read Arianna Huffington or Ann Coulter without some serious eye rolling ,but Peggy Noonan? I think she's brilliant. I think she's fair. I can't see her bias as easily, but I'm sure that's because I agree with her, most of the time.

I must agree with Dexter Filkins too because I had a very hard time detecting any bias in his book. The Forever War doesn't give a chronological time line of the war on terror, or even a history or reason for the conflict up to this point. Instead, the book's focus is much more narrow. Through small snippets of his observations, conversations and the various situations he found himself in as an American journalist situated in a fundamental Islam dominated middle east, the war takes its own shape without much molding from the author. Through Filkin's reporting, the war is viewed through various perspectives. The Taliban's, Afghani women, American soldiers, American politicians, American ambassadors, Iraqi Sunni's, Iraqi Shiites, Kurds, hardliners, moderates, families, women, children. Iraqis as gracious hosts. Iraqis blind to American goodwill. Iraqis determined to keep their country in chaos. Iraqis as the neighbor or friend you wish you had.

As he sometimes traveled under the protection of the US Forces, he was able to observe their behavior too. Like their Iraqi counterparts, soldiers and military leaders ranged from the truly valiant, noble even, to complete jerks. But, because he told individual stories and reported moments in time as they happened, very few of his reports are tinged with the burden of hindsight or the sensationalism that I so loathe. It's incredibly present. A snapshot with words.

Filkins manages to keep himself out of his reporting most of the time as well. Even when he's part of the story, such as when he runs in shorts that he knows bothers Muslim modesty, it's not about his running or even his legs, it's about the Iraqi guard's humor, generosity and discomfort. When he's not part of the story, his presence is hardly noticeable. For example, he doesn't editorialize an interview with an Iraqi jihadist. The emotion, that spills out of the pages is one of the jihadist's single-mindedness and hatred for the infidels, not of Filkin's response. No apologies. No excuses. When he's interviewing a 19 year-old American soldier from Pearland, Texas, the pages fill with the soldier's optimism, hope and unquestioning obedience to his superiors, not Filkin's east-coast, Harvard educated sensibilities.

Sometimes, the book becomes more than raw reporting. Sometimes, Filkins allows his own confusion and conflicting emotions to tell this story too. Like the time he gets lifted into an angry anti-American mob, and his certain soon-to-be death, but before any harm befalls him, he is pulled back into the safety of his car by his Iraqi driver. Gratitude for one Iraqi and fear of another. Conflict.

If there should ever be required reading on the present day conflict in Iraq, The Forever War should hold a place at the top of that list. While it is a book that no doubt Filkins hopes will sell, I don't think he's trying to sell a view of this war to the left or to the right. Instead, like a meaningful piece of art, he captures what war is - past, present and future: hope, corruption, fear, courage, sacrifice, weariness, destruction, honor, death and change - all together. Forever.

An Opposite Perspective

My boys are spaced out further than I originally intended. I loved being so close in age to my siblings but it didn't work out that way for me. Thank goodness.

So, when my little almost three year-old baby Seth came into the hospital to meet his new brother, Sam, I was shocked and aghast at how incredibly....huge he was. Enormous really. Just like that.

Today, Seth got an early birthday present. Both he and Sam have grossly outgrown their bicycles, and with cousins coming in a couple of weeks who I hope will want to enjoy our beautiful surroundings...outside, we went shopping for his one request a month early - a mountain bike.

First of all, we live in Mountain Bike Center, U.S.A, so I asked a friend whose boys participate in the local mountain biking club to recommend a few places to buy one. We're probably not the most discriminating of shoppers, but Seth fell in love with his bike right away. And, wouldn't you know it, it's a big bike!

I never would have thought he was ready for adult bikes (he is, after all, only 8), but the technician watched him ride around on both a 26" youth bike and a 14" adult bike and said, "No way should you buy the youth bike." We didn't and I have a very excited, almost 9 year-old little boy.

When I pulled into the garage, I saw his former bike. I had the exact same reaction I had when Seth walked into the hospital room all those years - only backwards. His old bike is tiny!

Seth on his new, fancy mountain bike.

Seth and with his new and old bike. Sammy is excited to inherit it so he will no longer have to ride his circus bike.

Henry: Still cute. Still causing trouble.

Rite of Passage

As a stocking stuffer, both Seth and Sam got a Rubik's Cube for Christmas. Not exactly a hit as neither has played with their cube much - just enough to ensure that only the brightest mind be able to restore six solid sides of color.

Occasionally, Henry will choose to play with one of his brother's Rubik's Cube and pull it from the depths of the bottom of the toy box and twist and turn the thing to his heart's content. He did this exact thing the other day and managed to sneak the toy into the van on one of our outings (Toys are not usually allowed in the car. Books, yes, although I'm starting to rethink that one. I know. I'm a meanie).

It must have rolled into the backseat, because on our drive home from church yesterday, Sammy quietly played with his long-lost toy. As we parked the van in the garage and began giving reminders to bring in books, jackets and bags, Sammy showed off his Rubik's Cube success: a full side of bright, happy yellow.

"Look, Dad. I got the yellows all together."

"Wow, Sammy! Did you do that all by yourself? I'm impressed!" Jay inquired, truly gushing.

"He cheated." Seth deadpanned, taking all the puff out of Sammy's pride.

Upon closer inspection, the evidence was clear. Two crooked stickers.

As one who has never in her life been able to line up a Rubik's Cube without moving the stickers, I was actually impressed that his six year-old mind thought to do it. Tears and self-flagellation are much more my kids style.

Welcome, Sam. You are among friends.

I feel like Angela from The Office with this cat poster....

Sunday Thoughts

Being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints AND being one who reads most of her news online, my week was filled with daily updates about a certain cable television station that was choosing to include details about the LDS endowment ceremony, including temple clothes, in an upcoming episode. Troubling, sickening, disappointing, of course, if you happen to be a member of the LDS church who cares about such things. But major fodder for ridicule, loud laughter, evil speaking and rudeness if you don't.

After reading the articles, which all basically said the same thing, I read some of the hundreds of comments that followed. My stomach plummeted as I read horrible things said about Joseph Smith and the church. According to plenty, Mormons are robots, zombies, idiots, hypocrites, morons, cultish, sexual deviants, etc. etc. etc. Who do they mean? Are they talking about me?

I think it's natural for anyone to bask in good press and blush or feel the urge to fight back when the subject of bad press. While the reasons for those feelings may seem obvious, I've often wondered why I prefer the label "normal." After reading those hurtful comments, I suppose the most honest reason I can come up with is because I am normal. I speak in normal sentences. I eat normal things. I wear normal clothes. I live in a normal house. I am raising a normal family. Of course, I want the credit for being so.

But, then something like this happens, and my beliefs - which I DO believe, are so mocked and treated with such scorn and derision that I am reminded that by the world's standards, I am most definitely not normal. The world thinks that I am bizarre.

I don't think knowing something spiritually is much different than knowing you're in love. It's personal and impossible to prove and the person's only means of sharing that intimate experience with the rest of the world is to say, "I believe." or "I love ______." And yet, the two statements are not treated the same. When you're in love with someone, your spirit and body recognize that fact. The world accepts and understands because being in love is a common enough experience that if you say so, most won't respond by declaring you an ignoramus. Spiritual knowledge, on the other hand, is quickly dismissed as foolish tradition.

So, while the world says it can't be so, I say it can. With both head and heart, I believe that Joseph Smith was the individual who Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ entrusted with the restoration of Christ's gospel. That gospel includes truth and knowledge that was lost but regained through the translation of the Book of Mormon and other scripture, as well as priesthood keys necessary to officiate important ordinances necessary for exaltation- some of which are performed in temples. I believe that all of this happened because I have felt it to be true when I have asked. I have felt it's truth when I have lived it. I can't prove it. But I know. Just like I know I love Jay.

Of course, I wish that something that I hold sacred and reverent was treated as such by the rest of the world. Unfortunately, holiness, reverence and respect are increasingly foreign ideas these days. Valiance too. Our lesson in Relief Society today was on Being Valiant In The Cause of Christ. At one point, the teacher read a quote about the early saints "cheerfully" pressing forward in the face of persecution. I thought about that. Confrontation - online, on a street corner, or even privately - is not my thing. But I can be cheerful. And I can be valiant. I hope by bearing my own simple testimony, that I am likewise being valiant in the cause of Christ.

Five For Friday

1. I'm getting in a really bad habit of only showering every other day. I know that probably qualifies for the TMI category, but it's a pattern that has unwillingly snuck up on me. I don't know how the french people do it. There's no way I can go more than two days (I can barely get away with two) with my oily hair, but I've decided to direct the blame to my scattered, non-compressed schedule. This year, I've simply nodded and went with whatever worked for anyone else (volunteering at the school, piano lessons, speech therapy, pre-school, scouts, sports, RS meetings) and while that meshes with my create-no-waves personality, it's really taking a toll on my groove and van mileage. And, apparently, my cleanliness. Next year, I'm going to have a better handle on my schedule and consolidate activities to certain days or at least try to bundle them into morning or afternoons. Either that, or we need to buy a house closer to town so that I have time to shower sometime!

2. I have way too many books checked out from the library right now - 8. My sister, Emily, told me her library has their reservation system set-up so that if a book you have on hold becomes available and you're not ready for it, you can suspend your hold but still remain in the front of the queue for the next available copy. I know I sound like the most whiny library patron ever, but I want my library to do that! I get all giddy when a book is actually checked out so that I can put it on hold (versus trying to scramble down the library that day, remember the title and author, and check it out before someone else snatches it up) but then this happens, and all my holds become available all at once. Common sense tells me to return half of the books so that they might actually be read by someone, instead of overwhelming my bedside table, but the unrealistic, dreamer side of me wants to keep the entire stack so I can at least try to read as many of them before they become due. I know...silly.

3. I've been buying the Nestle Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough pre-made in the bucket to elevate my position in society to Best Mom Ever by having warm cookies for after-school snack. The trouble is, I think I consume at least three raw cookies every time I scoop out a dozen. This is NOT helping me achieve any of my own personal goals. Common sense tells me to stop buying the cookie dough but the unrealistic side of me wants me to beat this thing. You know...see the bucket and not partake. This should be possible. And yet.



4. Last night I hosted an enrichment activity at my house. Yes, we just had the big birthday celebration last week, but as a board, we've decided to take turns heading up smaller activities once a month. Someone else on the board planned an enrichment activity for this week called "Taste Tester" which included having anyone that wanted to come bring something made with the ingredient Cream Cheese along with the recipe. She needed a place to have it at, and I felt compelled to offer up my home. Of course, that meant I needed to get the visible parts of my house Relief Society clean (we women are the harshest judges).

With my boys, cleaning a house so that it still looks clean when it's meant to is an art form. I had my cleaning schedule timed to the minute, a plan that backfired when someone arrived 30 minutes early. The vacuum was still out, the mop was still out, the trash still needed to be hauled to the garage and my face was slick with perspiration from my bust-a-moving. Being female and a nice person to boot, she didn't hesitate in offering to help but I couldn't accept. It felt too weird to say, "Welcome to Enrichment! Here's some garbage to take out." Instead, she sat awkwardly by herself in the living room while I stuffed cleaning utensils in cupboards and closets and ran back to my bathroom to brush my hair and put on some powder. In spite of her early arrival, the night turned out great. 14 people showed up and there was some really good food to eat!

5. Clark and Stephanie are coming this week. I love, love, love when visitors come. They aren't even staying with us and I feel a jolt of adrenaline that they are coming. I'm truly living the small town, isolated life now. People coming to visit is like drugs in my veins (not that I know how that feels but I've heard it's quite the rush). So...you know...if you feel like it, come! You'll be doing your part to keep me off the hard stuff:)

A Look Back Meme

***20 YEARS AGO (1989)***
1) How old were you? 13
2) Who were you dating? Eighth grade. I was tall. I had acne. There was no romance.
3) Where did you work? I was cleaning my dad's law office.
4) Where did you live? My home was in Montana but I didn't wear a bandana.
5) Where did you hang out? I spent a lot of time walking home from school with friends. Mostly at their or my house.
6) Did you wear contacts and/or glasses? Nope.
7) Who were your best friends? Jill, Diane, Kari, Maya, Brooke, Lisa (even though we had different groups of friends). My siblings - always.
8) How many tattoos did you have? 0
9) How many piercings did you have? 0
10) What kind of car did you drive? Jon let me steer the Subaru sometimes.
11) Had you been to a real party? Does real mean alcohol was there? Then no. But we had some pretty good times without it.
12) Had you had your heart broken. No. I didn't tell anyone who my crushes were on.
13) Were you Single/Dating/Taken/Married/Divorced? Single.
14) Any kids? NO.

***15 YEARS AGO (1994)***

1) How old were you? 18.
2) Who were you dating? March of my freshman year in college. I was googly eyed about a boy named Cory who worked at the Copy Center, but we only went on one date with each other. I spent A LOT of time crossing through the HBLL to check him out, though.
3) Where did you work? Mercifully - my freshman year was the only year of college when I didn't work.
4) Where did you live? M. Smith Hall at BYU. In the basement.
5) Where did you hang out? Twice a week at the Edge.
6) Did you wear contacts and/or glasses? No.
7) Who were your best friends? Jill and Diane via letters. Valerie and Michelle as roommates. My siblings - always.
8) How many tattoos did you have? None but there was a really close call that year. Thankfully - the tattoo parlor claimed they couldn't give me a Kokopelli on my hip, a shape I loved at the time and wore constantly on a chain.
9) How many piercings did you have? 5! Three in my left ear and two in my right. Years of suppression made me a little piercing happy. Thankfully, ears were still the only thing most people pierced or I may have more holes.
10) What kind of car did you drive? A piece of junk Ford Tempo.
11) Had you been to a real party? Yes. 1994 and 1995 were full of them.
12) Had you had your heart broken? Yes.
13) Were you Single/Taken/Married/Divorced? Single but dating.
14) Any kids? No.

***10 YEARS AGO (1999)***
1) How old were you? 23
2) Who were you dating? Jay and I had been married for a 2 1/2 years.
3) Where did you work? In a diagnostic virology laboratory at a Denver hospital.
4) Where did you live? We still lived in our one bedroom apt in Cherry Creek but we'd soon move to an apartment about a 1/2 mile away from the medical school and hospital. 766 1/2!
5) Where did you hang out? There wasn't a lot of hanging out this first year of med school. But we did make friends with several other couples in our ward that led to some of the best friendships of our lives.
6) Did you wear contacts and/or glasses? No.
7) Who were your best friends? Jay, Jill, Christi, Libby, my siblings - always.
8) How many tattoos did you have? None.
9) How many piercings did you have? I think I still had all 5 earrings in. This was before the other counsel was given.
10) What kind of car did you drive? Jay's Carribean Mist 1995 Subaru Impreza. I could spot our car anywhere.
11) Had you been to a real party? Not lately.
12) Had you had your heart broken? No. Jay solved that problem.
13) Were you Single/Taken/Married/Divorced? Married
14) Any kids? Nope. But we were desperately trying that year. And that was the year we finally got pregnant!

***5 YEARS AGO (2004)***
1) How old were you? 28
2) Who were you dating? Jay and I had been married for seven years.
3) Where did you work? At home.
4) Where did you live? In our California Split in Spokane.
5) Where did you hang out? At the park across the street. In the hospital cafeteria (free meals!)
6) Did you wear contacts and/or glasses? No - I've never needed them.
7) Who were your best friends? Jay, KariAnn, Andrea, Jen (who counts as one of my siblings but we were only two hours apart and we hung out a lot). My siblings - always!
8) How many tattoos did you have? None.
9) How many piercings did you have? I listened to a prophet's voice and cut back to two.
10) What kind of car did you drive? This was the year we purchased our first and probably last brand new car. A 2004 Chrysler Town & Country Minivan that I still drive.
11) Had you been to a real party? This question...bugs me. Yes. I love parties. I consider any party to be real.
12) Had you had your heart broken? Not in a long time.
13) Were you Single/Taken/Married/Divorced? Married
14) Any kids? 2. Seth was 4 and Sammy 1.

***TODAY (2009)***
1) How old are you? 33
2) Who are you dating? Jay still fills my dance card.
3) Where do you work? At home.
4) Where do you live? In a rental house.
5) Where do you hang out? At this rental house - WAY too much.
6) Do you wear contacts and/or glasses? No.
7) Who are your best friends? Jay. I'm in transition. I have lots of fantastic long-distance friendships and a few nice new friends here. And my siblings - always.
8) How many tattoos do you have? None
9) How many piercings do you have? 2 that I use.
10) What kind of car do you drive? Same minivan. It's a lot dirtier now.
11) Have you been to a real party? Not in a while.
12) Have you had your heart broken? Yes.
13) Are you Single/Taken/Married/Divorced? Married
14) Any kids? 3. The boys. My life.

Book Review #43 - Fablehaven

After I'd heard so many great things about this series, I went ahead and bought the first three books for my eight year-old for Christmas. Wanting to know what the hype was about myself, Fablehaven became our bedtime story for about a month (because we didn't read it every night. Not because it is that long).

Kendra and Seth are left with their grandparents, who seem mysterious and distant to both children, while their parents go on a cruise. After their grandfather shows them to their filled-with-toys attic bedroom, he explains the rules about where and where not they are allowed to go. The yard is o.k. but everything beyond the yard's hedge, including the barn, is strictly off limits. Kendra and Seth begin exploring their fascinating surroundings which is filled with beautiful butterflies and exotic plants. Seth, naturally curious and not particularly obedient, breaks the boundary rules first. Kendra, the elder sibling, comes to her brother's aid. Grandpa Sorensen, very disappointed, gives them an ultimatum. Break the rules once more and they'll be forced to stay in the attic for the remainder of their stay.

Of course, they break the rules once more which forces their grandfather to explain the reason for the rule. Fablehaven - his estate - is dangerous. It is a refuge for mystical creatures who are mostly cunning and selfish. Now that they know what to expect - Kendra and Seth's grandfather opens their eyes to their magical surroundings by having them drink special milk.

Brandon Hull creates an interesting world full of fairies and satyrs, witches and naiads. Kendra and Seth, complement each other as brother and sister, giving the readers an acceptable balance of obedient and mischievous. Think Hermione and Harry, only not nearly as smart.


My very first observation was that the vocabulary was really advanced for a novel geared for children. At first, I paused after each of the most obvious thesaurus-driven words, wondering if my two sons (ages 8 and 6) knew what each word meant. My oldest usually did (his brother usually didn't care) but I think it's because he's good at understanding context, not because he has a particularly developed vocabulary. I certainly wouldn't have thought of using some of the words the author chose. I don't know if he wrote that way to show off or if he really thinks in those terms.

In spite of the vocabulary, or because of it (I still haven't decided it I find it pompous or educational) I enjoyed reading this with my son. I don't think I would have enjoyed reading it on my own, however. The chapters are choppy and most of the time, the book's purpose seems to be to lay the groundwork for a future, more interesting story. While there is a loosely woven plot that comes to a climax at the appropriate end, most chapters start afresh, having little to do with the previous one. Instead, new creatures or features of Fablehaven are explained and Kendra and Seth find themselves in one predicament after another.

While not fully developed, I do think Kendra and Seth are interesting characters. The adults who live at Fablehaven, on the other hand, Grandpa and Grandma Sorensen, and the caretakers whose names presently escape me, are so flat face dull for such an interesting place that none seem to understand that they see magic everyday. Magic!

Whatever I thought, the boy who the books were intended for absolutely loved them. He sat staring off at the wall, mesmerized, night after night, and begged for another chapter as I put the bookmark in place. He talked about Kendra and Seth in the car and wondered aloud how things would end. After seeing how much he enjoyed the book, I almost wish I were eight again.

We've already started the next book in the series. Time will tell if I like it any better than its predecessor. I don't think there's much need for improvement in my son's eyes, though.

Book Review #42 - The River of Doubt; Theodore Roosevelt's Darkest Journey

Theodore Roosevelt's leadership and charisma is a well documented part of American history. Although I'm sure I learned about him in my required history classes, and I've been to Mount Rushmore, I can't say that I knew much about him beyond the fact that he was a Rough Rider, a president, a large man, that he created the idea of a protected national park, and that he supposedly said, "Speak softly and carry a big stick." I also suspected that he was related, somehow, to FDR, but never bothered to find out exactly how.


After reading River of Doubt, Theodore Roosevelt's Darkest Journey, I can happily announce that I know much, much more about this phenomenal man. Like he's actually more closely related to Eleanor Roosevelt, who was his niece. But, don't let me fool you. This book isn't a biography of Teddy Roosevelt.

Instead, Candice Miller, a National Geographic contributor, details one incredible year of his life - the year he decided to travel to the Amazon and risk all to charter a 600 mile previously unknown river: the Rio Duvida or River of Doubt.

Miller doesn't limit her writing to being a travelogue. Instead, she carefully sets up the background story and motivation for his trip. Roosevelt had just lost his bid for a third term as President of the United States and in his humiliation, agreed to an acquaintance's suggestion for high adventure.

The year was 1912 and the Amazon and it's many tributaries remained mostly unmapped and mysterious. Roosevelt was an advocate for "the strenuous life" so taking a year to rough it in the jungles of Brazil was not a big stretch for him personally. In spite of his own willingness, a man of his status and prestige does not just travel to the Amazon anonymously. His trip included a pre-adventure diplomatic tour through South America - a continent containing several countries who strongly disagreed with his foreign policy while president. It also included a large entourage in an attempt to ensure for this important man's safety.

For a non-fiction book about a dead president, a jungle and river I've little desire to explore and a country I've never been to, I was sucked into this drama. Miller is an excellent writer and the story unfolds in a very readable way. There was no textbook or even National Geographic feel to it at all. The only time I got bored was when she included information about the Amazon's soil or the properties of sedimentation on the river. Both were absolutely necessary to completely understand the present dangers, but, still....soil. It's not very sexy.

Highly recommend. A fascinating chapter in a fascinating man's life.

Book Review #41 - Ender's Game

Yup - I've got more reviews coming. Lots more. Until I get caught up, I'm going to spend my clackity-clack time typing these out. Lucky for me, there isn't much else going on in my life....

Ender's Game. Good? Yes. Great? I don't know. It's supposed to be. Goodness knows I had a hard enough time getting a copy from my library, which, considering how old this book is (24 years!) is its own high praise for the book.

Ender is a 6 year-old genius referred to as a Third, because he is an uncommon third child. Third children are extremely looked down upon (I suppose because of their carbon footprint - man Orson Scott Card was WAY ahead of the game there) and the book begins with the decision of whether or not he'll be placed in the military training school. They only accept the brightest to train to fight the Buggers (aliens who look and act like bugs and have already attacked Earth once) and both of Ender's older siblings had been tested and rejected. Ender is eventually accepted and the book follows the physical, mental and emotional toll placed on this young prodigy.

I found the robotic prose strangely fascinating. Even all the details about legs tucking and zero gravity. That's not to say I followed it. No, I had no idea which way was up or down, even though I read enough times that "the enemy's gate is down." I'm not sure it mattered. I think the point was that it was confusing, most people struggled to understand it, however, Ender not only understood but mastered any environment he was placed in quickly. O.K. Good enough for me.

I know this is a series, whose other books I have not yet read, but I'm trying to decide if this book is beloved on its own merits or if people gush because the rest of the story clears so many things up. Because, truthfully, there are a lot of holes as a stand alone story.

Much time and space in the book is lent to Ender's equally brilliant brother and sister's intellectual war waging. As willing as I was to let my confusion about gravity and the battle box descriptions slide, I was much more frustrated about the poorly explained government situation. What were they trying to change? For what purpose? Because they could? Because brother Peter was so bad? Or because sister Valentine was so good? I found this entire sub-plot distracting. Perhaps it's necessary later on in the series.

Still, I was thoroughly entertained. As frequent as the battle scenes occurred, I surprisingly enjoyed all of the details - who was doing what and who was moving where. Of course, I loved the morality questions too. Was any of this fair? If not, did it matter? All sorts of "The End justifies the means" situations and arguments.

I should probably feel embarrassed that I didn't see the end coming. With that kind of naivety I'm not sure if I'm an ideal science fiction reader or should stay away because I don't have the kind of mental acumen to keep up. I'll give the next book in the series a go to find out.

Book Review #40 - Revenge

After stalling through Death Comes For The Archbishop, I desperately needed to read something easy and undemanding. Jay thought I'd like this - something he randomly found in the library.

Revenge is a modern re-telling of The Count of Monte Cristo. I feel like I'm being a faker comparing the two, because I have never read the original (I know, I know it's fantastic and I have to read it. Someday I will). But I have seen the movie. James Caviezel.....mmmmmm-mmmmmm.

I was always troubled by the the main character's motivation for revenge. In the movie, all ended well and good because the bad guys were really bad guys and it was very easy to cheer for the good guy. Again, I'm not sure Dumas wrote it that way, but since that's the way the movie goes, that's all I have for comparison.

In Revenge, Ned's charmed life is destroyed when a few jealous school peers plant drugs on him. After he is taken to the police station, a note, entrusted to him by his sailing coach which he never opened and had yet to deliver, is found in his coat pocket that reveals the scandalous identity of a traitor. An investigator's desperate need to destroy the evidence sends Ned to an undisclosed insane asylum - for life.

Ned has no idea how much time has passed when he meets the man who ultimately saves him. Referred to as Babe, this man unlocks Ned's trapped mind and memories and over several years, Babe unloads his knowledge and secrets to Ned. With that kind of mental training, Ned eventually escapes and his plot for revenge on all who wronged him begins.

The author, Fry, allows the reader to doubt the fairness of Ned's plan for revenge. While I certainly was glad Ned was out, and wanted him to enjoy his new freedom, most of me wanted to see him be able to "let it go" - probably because the author wanted me to feel that way. In the end, I felt a bit manipulated by the author. He had obviously read Dumas's Count of Monte Cristo, and wrote the "what if"s into his own. What if someone who hurt you did it accidentally? Like Ian McEwan's Atonement, Fry wants to know what someone who does something that ruins a person's life, but can't take it back, deserves. What should be their punishment? In my opinion, Fry ruins the subtleness of those questions by creating a highly unlikely and overly sensational ending. But I appreciate his effort.

Book Review #39 - Death Comes For The Archbishop

One of my favorite things about keeping track and reviewing the books I've read is that doing so pushes me to read things out of my comfort zone. It makes me want to tackle the classics. Much more often than I used to, I pick up a work of non-fiction - a genre I used to happily skip over. In other words, I'm much more aware of what I read and a lot more choosy.

Death Comes For The Archbishop is a book I chose because it is a classic. Willa Catha's name was mentioned somewhere, and I gritted my teeth in the knowledge that there was another famous author I'd never read. Call it pride, but I'm desperate to claim that I read literature and not just novels.

As much as I wish I could say that I loved it, I didn't. Truthfully, I thought this book was really quite boring. If I were to rank what I consider most important in terms of what I like in a book, I'd say characterization sits at the top, followed by the story's morale/scope, then plot and lastly prose. I think Willa Catha and I may be complete opposites because prose definitely ranks at the top of her list.

Her writing is beautiful- colorful. She describes a New Mexico that is perfectly vivid. I've seen those pinks and browns and peaches in her rocks and hills. I've driven past the absurdly continuous mountains. I've seen the sagebrush and cacti and old mission architecture. She nails it. But I needed more than a pretty setting to stay interested.

This book follows two Catholic priests from Europe who struggle to adapt and nurture the faith of their parishioners in a newly formed diocese in New Mexico. There is no plot, exactly, except the experiences, challenges and progression of age of both Bishop Jean Marie Latour and his faithful companion, Father Valliant. Neither characters are developed enough for me to commit to their life and their sacrifice. I appreciated the early setting and the descriptions of this rough new territory, but neither Bishop Latour nor Father Valliant managed to convert me.

I can see how someone with a love of the New Mexican landscape would love it, though.

Book Review #38 - No Second Chance

I am disgustingly behind on book reviews. So much so that I fear none of the following will contain much besides a generic feeling of like or dislike. I suppose if you have more you want to know or a question, leave a comment and I'll try....try to remember.

I have mixed feelings about Harlan Coben. The first novel of his I read was part of his Myron Bolitar series and I so seriously disliked Myron and his sarcastic ways that I dismissed Coben's books completely.

Then, a long airplane ride forced me to reconsider and I found myself enjoying his Tell No One. Smart, complicated and a likable protagonist (a far cry from Myron).

No Second Chance falls between the two ends of the spectrum, but closer to the good end. As I've learned is his usual set-up, his protagonist, a plastic surgeon named Marc Seidman, is a likable, clueless, and willing-to-do-anything-to-find-out-what-happened-because-he's-got-nothing-left-to-lose kind of guy. In this case, Seidman's beloved baby daughter has been kidnapped, his estranged wife murdered and he himself shot and left for dead. When the kidnappers call and demand a ransom, he bungles the exchange and fears he's lost his chance to recover his daughter forever.

Contrary to the title, he does gets a second chance. In fact, I think he gets a third chance. I know. I don't know what Coben was thinking with that title. Because the book is almost all about the second chance, which happens fairly early on in the novel and it's also when the plot gets nice and murky.

Coben plays the role or part-time philosopher several times throughout the book and allows his narrator to pontificate his version of truth. From his observations of the rich to other virtues and vices, Coben tends to moralize his characters. I also loved the many twists and turns and was really satisfied with what I thought was the ending. But then he twisted it again and the ending became something different. Then he twisted it again and I wanted to call him up personally and say, "Sometimes, less is more, Harlan!" I'll concede that I didn't see the final end coming, but it's not as satisfying because it rests on pretty much every single person Marc knows ultimately being a complete psychopath.

I'll continue to pick up these books when I need to unwind and read a page-turner that lets me escape.

Basketball, Bowling, and a Few Things That Don't Begin With B

On Saturday, Seth played in his last basketball game. Jay graciously agreed to coach his team this season after the rec center came begging days before it was supposed to start with still no coach. He had to change the practice schedule around a bit, but he ended up being a great coach. The boys loved him, he was fair, and he managed to teach them a thing or two. I did my part by buying him some track pants and a whistle so he could look the part.

Two boys didn't make it to the last game, but Jay presented each of them with a special award, trophy and their photos.

Several weeks ago, the rec center (which hasn't been very organized when it comes to youth sports) called Jay the day before team pictures were scheduled to take place. Jay complained about the short notice, the fact that they couldn't tell him how much they cost, and opted against them. Instead, he sent out an email telling all the parents that "we have a decent camera and would be willing to take photos of all the boys and give everyone a CD containing their son's picture." As he doesn't even know how to change the setting from looking at pictures to taking pictures, this task fell on my shoulders.

The serious picture.

The goofy picture

Seth

I don't think Jay knows how sophisticated most "amateur" photographers are nowadays. Claiming our little point-and-shoot Cannon Elph as "decent" was a stretch and I was stressed taking pictures of the boys indoors with fluorescent lighting. The pictures aren't great, but they were free and who really cares about those kinds of pictures anyways?

If only Henry could have played in the games too. He tries. During one game - he ran out onto the court three separate times. I have no idea what his mother was doing.

Jay was showing off his mean dunking skills on the 8 foot hoop.

Poor Seth didn't make a single basket during the entire season. I took hundreds of pictures and found the problem. He does some pretty funky things with his wrist following his shot. It think he made this lay-up in practice, though.

A coaching moment. Check out that whistle and pants!

Vaughn, Patty, Derek and Delanie all came to the game, which was a delightful surprise. We made plans to go bowling later on and then they came over for dinner and games. It was nice to spend time with their family. It doesn't feel like we live in the same town because we hardly ever see them.

Delanie and Seth have a turn.

Jay right before his strike. We were laughing so hard last night because we both have sore bums and hamstrings. Guess we need to build our bowling muscles.

Henry did better than usual. He had some gum which kept him entertained.

The rest of the gang

The have an arcade attached that has a really fun NASCAR racing game. The two different consoles race against each other so we each took a turn.

I gave Seth the camera and told him to take a shot of his dad and me racing and this is the picture he took.

After dinner, Derek went and played the Wii with Seth and Sam, but we pulled out some Karaoke for Delanie. Vaughn left for awhile to go and feed the baby calves at Grandpa and when he came back, he jokingly said he only sings hymns. Little did he know that didn't eliminate him singing so Patty choose "Abide With Me" for him to sing. I will say that it brought the room down a little bit.

On Sunday, our Relief Society president wanted to re-organize visiting teaching. She asked each of us in the presidency to fast specifically for inspiration and we spent three hours after church (which is also three hours) making love matches. It's a lot more difficult than I imagined it would be. I had made index cards with everyone's name on it to help us stay organized. Let's just say we have a lot of work to do.

The orange cards are all the sisters in the ward. The green ones are the ones who have accepted visiting teaching assignments.

Daylight savings time hit me hard this morning. Luckily, Seth is a notoriously early riser and woke me up at 7:00, dressed and needing food (he still won't just get himself a bowl of cereal. Such a difference between him and Henry, who doesn't think twice about helping himself to anything within his reach). It felt like the middle of the night to me. Hopefully, I'll adapt quickly.

Jay's on call tonight and I'm gone two nights this week for church stuff. I get the feeling that our weekends will become more and more necessary to reconnect with each other as our kids get older and we get busier with activities and callings. I'm glad we had some time together this weekend.

A Surprising Discovery

Last night was my ward's Relief Society's birthday celebration. In other words, it was my debut as Enrichment person. Sure, we had a cute little hot cocoa social in December, but this was the real deal. We needed a theme, we needed to hide the gym-ness of the gym etc. etc. Not easy tasks, I'm telling you.

The planning wasn't so bad. Although I hate to admit it, because I still think it's the worst calling ever, my calling as Activity Chair last year helped a lot. I met with "my enrichment board" (three other ladies) twice before the event to brainstorm and divide up responsibilities, and we managed to get everything covered. Usually, I forget half of the things that need to happen during those planning sessions and end up doing them all myself. While I definitely had a lot to do (hence, no blog posts this week), so did everyone else. I'm pretty sure it was my best delegating job ever.

I found an idea on the internet using Months of the Year to extend the birthday celebration to each sister's own personal birthday but needed something catchy for a title. I found the "purse"onal idea on the internet as well and used it on a poster - creating one of the most hard on the eye posters to ever grace the walls of a church bulletin board. I forgot to get a picture of it but imagine a powdery blue poster, silver letters, awkwardly placed black purses that I wanted to put in the corners but made a mess on the poster with the silver marker while trying to get it to write and had to cover up the big silver blob with a purse. Anyhow, we ended up just rolling with the purse theme.

The invitation. I made 50 which was way too many. It was vertically folded and had all the information inside.

We decorated with a birthday party look, but we also had purses everywhere. I totally lucked out by getting an interior decorator on the enrichment committee and she took over decorations. The centerpieces went with the months for each table and purses filled in the other nooks and crannies (to a point. There really is only so much you can do with a gym.)


An effort to truncate the gym. A pretty good one too. I certainly wouldn't have had it looking so nice.

Again, I would have brought cake-mix cupcakes with sprinkles but the girl who is an interior decorator went all out. They were yummy too!

We didn't have a spectacular turn-out but 24 sisters of various ages came and it felt like enough. It would have been nice to fill up all the tables which would have required about 10 more people, but everyone that came had a good time and I'm calling it a success.

They must have taken their centerpiece off the table. I think it was a summer basket.

A watermelon pitcher with tulips for May and June.

Not a ton of birthdays in the winter so we combined October, November and December.

We started with dinner, which was chicken salad and croissants, various salads and dessert which included cupcakes and chocolate dipped strawberries. I brought my favorite salad (Luna salad) which everyone seemed to like. Everything was really good and I think having a good meal (i.e. not spaghetti or tacos) helped put everyone in a good mood. While people were eating, we asked everyone to write something on a piece of paper that nobody would know about them. Then, each table tried to figure out who was who. I really underestimated how much time it would take and was surprised that people were really chatting it up and getting into the game. But, of course, when your goal is to have everyone feel comfortable and friendly towards each other, I wasn't going to complain.

Eventually, each table chose one person's "thing" to share with the rest of the Relief Society and everyone guessed who at that table it would be. My table chose my thing, even though it was quickly guessed, because it was the most funny. Did you know that I was a back up singer for a Marie Osmond concert? It's true.

With everyone in smiles, we moved on to our spotlights. At each of the quarterly enrichment activities, we decided to spotlight 6 sisters. We could never get a hold of one of the people chosen, so we only had five this time. I didn't get any of the information from the sisters, but I did end up taking all of their photos, typing out their information, making this large poster board and playing the part of Vanna White - turning over the question marks to reveal the picture of the spotlight. The person in charge of getting the information did a great job getting some interesting stories and the ten minutes we spent on spotlights was enjoyable for everyone (even though only one of our spotlights showed up. Oh well).

Bath and Body works had $1 promotional lotion for an new upcoming scent. Perfect gift for our spotlights!

I was up next with a purse game. I purchased 12 different things you'd typically find in purses (breath mints, lip balm, candy, hand lotion, emery board, calendar, pen, notebook, gum, lipstick holder, hand sanitizer, tissues) and put them in these cute little purses I found at Oriental Trading Company. I then called out an item (driver's license, 3 dimes, picture of children or grandchildren, credit card etc.) and the first person that could find the item, get it out of her purse, bring it to the front table and ring the bell got to choose one of the prize purses. It was a hit! Ladies were scrambling and sprinting to the front. Twice, we had two ladies trip each other to get to the front first. I know that sounds un-ladylike, but it was because everyone was so relaxed and in a party mood. We were all laughing so hard. Something about free dollar prizes....

Can you tell purses was our theme?

After the game, I gave a short talk. I wanted the evening to have a spiritual end after all the silliness and talked about friendship as a righteous endeavor. I used a talk by Elder Marlin Jensen as well as one by Bonnie D. Parkin for references. I tied in our goals for enrichment and how I want it to be...enriching...and not a I-really-don't-want-to-go-but-I-should responsibility. I also tied in how we sisters are a lot like purses - unique and all filled with different things, but essentially the same in purpose. I felt the spirit. And I think others did too.

We ended with a song. I Weird-Al-Yankovic-ed the song "Count Your Many Blessings" to "Count Our Purses" and that was it. The best part was that people totally lingered afterward. People were hugging and laughing and helping clean up and there was a definite feeling of camaraderie. I left the building on a total high - which I wasn't at all expecting.

This was another idea I found on the internet but the words were all about shopping and silliness. So I made up my own lyrics.

Isn't that something - that I wasn't personally expecting enrichment to be enriching? My experience with throwing parties (prom, high school reunion, ward activities) is that you hope for everyone else to have fun but the only good feelings to come personally is the relief that it's over.

That wasn't the case this time. I felt really good at the end of the night. I learned a lot about those who came and gained a first hand knowledge that when the prophet, Joseph Smith, said, that "Friendship is an essential part of Mormonism" - he was speaking truth. It's uplifting to have a friend. Even ones that don't seem like they should be because they don't "match" the usual profile.

I'm rambling. I am glad it's over. But I'm even more glad that it happened.