tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-99313082024-03-16T11:53:12.015-07:0050 BooksOne woman. One year. Countless distractions.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.comBlogger587125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-42960088397161112242013-05-15T17:07:00.002-07:002013-05-15T17:10:27.748-07:00"It's good to be home! Let's have a party!"I love classic Little Golden Books. We tend to think about old-timey morals as being all hardass, but when you really examine these books, the message is more like "Do what you feel like, kids! There'll be parties and cake!" As a parent, I disapprove. As a human being, I'm totally down with this.<br />
<br />
First, let's talk about <i>The Poky Little Puppy</i>. He comes home late a few times and manages to snarf dessert two out of three of those times -- and not just his own portion, mind you, but also his four brothers' and sisters' portions, because they get hosed out of their shares -- and then, finally, on the third try he gets busted and has to go without.<br />
<br />
What's the lesson here? Do what you feel like, and you'll get ten desserts before you get caught. Me, I like those odds. You keep on keepin' on, Poky.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJNTLa9blJxBIGUMtYH_grXkrNZqAcT94EwtGmhxl9MB6a4SLXuQE138jqePUTy4wx9liKMfomNfxi5ASnhpymVuWYUSOJE3JSzLHXlS8FFAJ7gizEV9f8zx6WO9amz6-TMDvfQ/s1600/poky-puppy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJNTLa9blJxBIGUMtYH_grXkrNZqAcT94EwtGmhxl9MB6a4SLXuQE138jqePUTy4wx9liKMfomNfxi5ASnhpymVuWYUSOJE3JSzLHXlS8FFAJ7gizEV9f8zx6WO9amz6-TMDvfQ/s1600/poky-puppy.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
The only problem with <i>The Poky Little Puppy</i> is that you and your kids can get so jazzed by his quietly subversive little vibe that you make the mistake of picking up <i>The Poky Little Puppy's First Christmas</i>, which is so brutally dull I'm not even going to waste my time or yours by describing it here. Every so often, my boys forget how boring this book was when we last read it and will ask me to read it again. I'll comply, because I'm the best mom ever, and at the end, I get these two pairs of blue eyes staring at me all confused-like, because what the hell just happened?<br />
<br />
Anyway. My faaaaaavourite Little Golden Book is the recently re-released <i>The Merry Shipwreck</i>. There's practically zero discernible plotline, but that doesn't stop this from being possibly the finest children's book ever written.<br />
<br />
First, take a gander at old Captain Barnacle there on the cover, rocking his sailor hat, sweet pink and purple striped tank top, and majestic white moustache. If that doesn't let you know you're in for a treat, you're not paying close enough attention.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGTGw9L6kcy3JZM-J8hul7Pp7nSS4vfitL6KwiVuI1JSWagdDoHhAProtTrQIOquGCFAfmB-ylkf7Ac544KeyylAZlRS1Inb0SRJnFgIADzfGgN1BCz7CPz96sikEztHDRgdRiuA/s1600/merry-shipwreck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGTGw9L6kcy3JZM-J8hul7Pp7nSS4vfitL6KwiVuI1JSWagdDoHhAProtTrQIOquGCFAfmB-ylkf7Ac544KeyylAZlRS1Inb0SRJnFgIADzfGgN1BCz7CPz96sikEztHDRgdRiuA/s1600/merry-shipwreck.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
So, what actually happens in this book? Here's a recap:<br />
<br />
Captain Barnacle lives on an old barge on the East River with a posse of farm animals. (Why? This is never explained. Just accept it and keep moving. Things happen pretty fast.) One day, Captain Barnacle goes to shore to get groceries. The baby mice accidentally (or IS IT AN ACCIDENT?) chew through the rope that holds the boat to shore. The animals immediately start partying it up, just because of how awesome it is to be drifting down the river toward the open sea.<br />
<br />
It's all good times till a storm comes up and bashes the barge up on a little island. Unhappiness ensues, but only briefly because a fireboat discovers them and takes them aboard. Captain Barnacle is also on the fireboat. This, too, is never explained, but who cares because there's another party! Stop asking for explanations! Do you hate parties?! The animals are spraying the firehoses and rampaging all over the boat while wearing firefighters' clothes. Is this a hoedown or what? And then they go up the Statue of Liberty, because why the hell not?<br />
<br />
But then, once again, momentary sadness when Captain Barnacle realizes how effed up his barge got when it was shipwrecked. Not to worry, though, because the fire crew and the animals help spiff it up again, and then the Captain and the animals head back down the East River. As they near home, everyone in the neighbourhood is on the dock to greet them -- kids, the mailman, all the neighbourhood cats, Tony the fruit seller, you name it. And it's time for another party, because it's been six pages since the last one, and that's way too damn long. And then everybody passes out. The end.<br />
<br />
You probably already have a copy of <i>The Poky Little Puppy</i>. You may not have a copy of <i>The Merry Shipwreck</i>. Get one, seriously. Even if you don't have kids.<br />
<br />
In the (should be) famous words of Captain Barnacle, my new personal motto:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"It's good to be home! Let's have a party!"</b></div>
Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com189tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-64720370004080317092013-05-08T17:08:00.000-07:002013-05-08T17:08:00.698-07:0011 Children's Classics Re-imagined as Serious Adult FictionThere's a whole (justifiable) <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/05/07/coverflip-maureen-johnson_n_3231935.html" target="_blank">kerflap</a> happening out there about book covers and gender and blabbidy-blah. But I'm not going to wade into that, because I have better things to do. Like guessing what the covers of some of my favourite kids' books would like if they were re-imagined as Serious Adult Fiction. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQErnJVe-DI2wByqbOFi5G0WfxtCNcYq5VDzCULSDlS9XNf_m5yX9hjE0_EpqbaM48i6fDtaA3_45EyhVoqiFLOfEl8M1U6pJHMPOmKH-E7K4YsXkHiPbigop994n-mCKaFpYAw/s1600/BLOG-Madeline.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQErnJVe-DI2wByqbOFi5G0WfxtCNcYq5VDzCULSDlS9XNf_m5yX9hjE0_EpqbaM48i6fDtaA3_45EyhVoqiFLOfEl8M1U6pJHMPOmKH-E7K4YsXkHiPbigop994n-mCKaFpYAw/s1600/BLOG-Madeline.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrf6TV0P7lbHr5dbmpKzmQM9lBi2trH3OzRghUof6LLAGGxFOlTmY83mcn9QRqJdq3S9jHO2Qo0CzLffEuXqyZYTNzUYihN1d2L7FmMchNCBADMOXeFm2Ck2v_9LgbZLAwWEYrVg/s1600/BLOG-fantastic-mr-fox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrf6TV0P7lbHr5dbmpKzmQM9lBi2trH3OzRghUof6LLAGGxFOlTmY83mcn9QRqJdq3S9jHO2Qo0CzLffEuXqyZYTNzUYihN1d2L7FmMchNCBADMOXeFm2Ck2v_9LgbZLAwWEYrVg/s1600/BLOG-fantastic-mr-fox.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_jrnNa75HHvnhBvHXTapSGqwWjmFfAKlXMHFmAY6Yo2-oHOKz1id2ZYuPeI3_UhS6tYLGPJax6fUA54iWo8yxIf29JumiVFXxtFcpvtY3UieLYdRL7pSlBalK1ytkEcJyY2e4RQ/s1600/BLOG-are-you-my-mother.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_jrnNa75HHvnhBvHXTapSGqwWjmFfAKlXMHFmAY6Yo2-oHOKz1id2ZYuPeI3_UhS6tYLGPJax6fUA54iWo8yxIf29JumiVFXxtFcpvtY3UieLYdRL7pSlBalK1ytkEcJyY2e4RQ/s1600/BLOG-are-you-my-mother.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9qxbsAGZwXUACvs-6ZZ7dxRhB5mT0MQY8V_CmFckMLIa5Exwnp1pzB7bfIt1UP10W2lFa1slHg20oiNA9GCGX91bx3Gx3EEnwLR3lO8LXGdaKtK9OozhI1ZTX8UkLJvlVN1LdMA/s1600/BLOG-goodnight-moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9qxbsAGZwXUACvs-6ZZ7dxRhB5mT0MQY8V_CmFckMLIa5Exwnp1pzB7bfIt1UP10W2lFa1slHg20oiNA9GCGX91bx3Gx3EEnwLR3lO8LXGdaKtK9OozhI1ZTX8UkLJvlVN1LdMA/s1600/BLOG-goodnight-moon.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKv5_J87j6waLB95t948S0PyeMg0dirs6qI7lnq6iXmRrkyPYxtkM_vdpigGb4jmgrpEWrR2xiIJmcTli5gaVLt2TPuNVefFZkWel_BLZ5eo4yeziKBHEjKnYeMVKHTiHejyZYlw/s1600/BLOG-lost-and-found.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKv5_J87j6waLB95t948S0PyeMg0dirs6qI7lnq6iXmRrkyPYxtkM_vdpigGb4jmgrpEWrR2xiIJmcTli5gaVLt2TPuNVefFZkWel_BLZ5eo4yeziKBHEjKnYeMVKHTiHejyZYlw/s1600/BLOG-lost-and-found.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZse41yn-YtywgQMDT9julgpW9wugbONUSnIy3bTisiJcAiCZswQUc-JxnUDFyJG43e1MjXP7mO7iT4yOy0amNUFV4ymYx-lX0X2bMK3HlQBTtrMPP7u5XihX4dLZfnEiHVtYq6g/s1600/BLOG-charlottes-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZse41yn-YtywgQMDT9julgpW9wugbONUSnIy3bTisiJcAiCZswQUc-JxnUDFyJG43e1MjXP7mO7iT4yOy0amNUFV4ymYx-lX0X2bMK3HlQBTtrMPP7u5XihX4dLZfnEiHVtYq6g/s1600/BLOG-charlottes-web.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF182FtXd6nKR0XQPQET10N8Vs695OHK1yrmo5DcMWREMbrHiRmnQXBLXWEqvBY9a4rosQEFAedrEUPm9mXBPIE9TKwS53ayx4Sb5fl_hvGWYKWrL4xPMnUskvYq91SUDz-IMZdg/s1600/BLOG-peter-rabbit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF182FtXd6nKR0XQPQET10N8Vs695OHK1yrmo5DcMWREMbrHiRmnQXBLXWEqvBY9a4rosQEFAedrEUPm9mXBPIE9TKwS53ayx4Sb5fl_hvGWYKWrL4xPMnUskvYq91SUDz-IMZdg/s1600/BLOG-peter-rabbit.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4Xu5n4yDmM71XhbUOVqVhMMhrLh5gr4Z4Nf_jcjzX0s9ax-6HqPBBfbp9sf-OVrSqpfxnVYumVhPkQpc4tFaSSGYhZbG0heBu8fDig1aYYZ_vM1vWXwA0irxuBdpWjzgzLRQhA/s1600/BLOG-the-borrowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4Xu5n4yDmM71XhbUOVqVhMMhrLh5gr4Z4Nf_jcjzX0s9ax-6HqPBBfbp9sf-OVrSqpfxnVYumVhPkQpc4tFaSSGYhZbG0heBu8fDig1aYYZ_vM1vWXwA0irxuBdpWjzgzLRQhA/s1600/BLOG-the-borrowers.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiAQs7hmHzrBBNCeiOPg_zk74sK093OtcFr8h2fO2FxG_LZUxbjn_89Dx1-B5Uku-UMbJNVgAGGjiVf2-VWSweBUUwYyaS_xKKwn7YONGuHFdP_KIfd1pBBILk-AldBXlR6dQ99A/s1600/BLOG-what-do-people-do-all-day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiAQs7hmHzrBBNCeiOPg_zk74sK093OtcFr8h2fO2FxG_LZUxbjn_89Dx1-B5Uku-UMbJNVgAGGjiVf2-VWSweBUUwYyaS_xKKwn7YONGuHFdP_KIfd1pBBILk-AldBXlR6dQ99A/s1600/BLOG-what-do-people-do-all-day.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1H56O9nW6Li9ZDo9AwP-0dlV52Tt1NT4r88BaYWtHXnWbK43Yr7XKy5BlUAEOLTkqFVOOCQun25QdVW16oRmp2hO9e2FM6EY8oyOL6gan8movm_SCFkm4EvLEboAHKAtnjKW9Ug/s1600/BLOG-wind-in-the-willows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1H56O9nW6Li9ZDo9AwP-0dlV52Tt1NT4r88BaYWtHXnWbK43Yr7XKy5BlUAEOLTkqFVOOCQun25QdVW16oRmp2hO9e2FM6EY8oyOL6gan8movm_SCFkm4EvLEboAHKAtnjKW9Ug/s1600/BLOG-wind-in-the-willows.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVTwBOi7ZzcRfzlLD3IGiZ-EixYAS-vHRz3cLXzhSB-FjqFRJGMryluTbafYbVO-DSCZzOruJ5Nnt0_6Aj95Ap0IR8KwKksK9Y23z8ZDsrbG8Uiv06F5OFLzFvhXTlgj2i-IlsKw/s1600/BLOG-the-snowy-day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVTwBOi7ZzcRfzlLD3IGiZ-EixYAS-vHRz3cLXzhSB-FjqFRJGMryluTbafYbVO-DSCZzOruJ5Nnt0_6Aj95Ap0IR8KwKksK9Y23z8ZDsrbG8Uiv06F5OFLzFvhXTlgj2i-IlsKw/s1600/BLOG-the-snowy-day.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
I should add that I'm just a knob with rudimentary Photoshop skills and a bit of extra time on her hands. If you liked these, the real credit goes to a few of the extremely talented artists and photographers whose work I borrowed for this little exercise in creative time-wastery:<br />
<br />
<i>Madeline</i> - <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/NatashaKatharina?ref=seller_info" target="_blank">Natasha Katharina</a><br />
<i>The Fantastic Mr. Fox</i> - <a href="http://www.kellyraeburns.com/" target="_blank">Kelly Rae Burns</a><br />
<i>Goodnight Moon</i> - <a href="http://carpenocturne.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">carpenocturne</a>, via deviantart<br />
<i>Lost and Found</i> and <i>Peter Rabbit</i> - <a href="http://thisisawhat.wordpress.com/2011/09/19/helga-aichinger/" target="_blank">Helga Aichinger</a><br />
<i>The Snowy Day</i> - <a href="http://kevinmiyazaki.com/" target="_blank">Kevin J. Miyazaki</a>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com73tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-53416661466943042562013-04-10T19:09:00.000-07:002013-04-11T09:28:41.531-07:00#2. Comfort Me with Apples by Ruth ReichlRuth Reichl was the longstanding editor-in-chief of Gourmet magazine until it shut down. She also does all kinds of cool food-related stuff for PBS and Modern Library and has written a bunch of books, all of which were on my to-read list for way, way, way too long before I finally got my hands on one.<br />
<br />
Don't be a silly like me. If you like good food writing and honest, unpretentious memoirs, just go out and get the damn books.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLeqo70GBR8wubpsqYNVZoetAQt_tqypc-ms_zHB_u_T1inDR_ew3Cf4Cfsv3UYAG4flgYxXTwC_75kmB7kxZgNLvZDR-BUxzAbbYEQo3TYZ8aErI_T9tVf6CnSowDokJj8OM2WQ/s1600/comfort-me-with-apples.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLeqo70GBR8wubpsqYNVZoetAQt_tqypc-ms_zHB_u_T1inDR_ew3Cf4Cfsv3UYAG4flgYxXTwC_75kmB7kxZgNLvZDR-BUxzAbbYEQo3TYZ8aErI_T9tVf6CnSowDokJj8OM2WQ/s1600/comfort-me-with-apples.jpg" /></a></div>
Now because I am, as previously mentioned, a silly, it turns out I picked up Reichl's second memoir, <i>Comfort Me with Apples</i>, not her first, <i>Tender at the Bone</i>. Given the fact that I enjoyed it tremendously, I'm going to hazard the statement that you don't necessarily need to read these memoirs in order.<br />
<br />
This book is everything my <a href="http://50books.blogspot.ca/2013/04/1-french-lessons-by-peter-mayle.html">first read</a> of the year was not: fresh, heartfelt, funny, poignant. Reichl writes about being a newly married young adult in a dead-end-ish job and a dead-end-ish relationship, and the age-old struggle to figure out what the hell she wants to do with her life.<br />
<br />
It would be easy to say something like "by recognizing and staying true to her passion for food, Reichl finds her path", but her writing is too honest for pat statements. Sure, ultimately her love for food and writing does help her get her feet under herself, but she also acknowledges all the indecision and mistakes and crippling self-doubt that happened along the way, and I think that's the real strength of this memoir. Too often, I find that, as people get older -- and if those people are successful -- they can develop overly simplistic hindsight about how they got to where they are. These people <i>want</i> to dole out wisdom to their youngers, but it's pretty much ineffectual because they edit out all the humbling bits that make their experiences useful or relatable.<br />
<br />
I'll be the first person to admit that in many ways I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Reading Reichl's book made me feel a lot better about that.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">*You may be wondering why I no longer link to booksellers to buy the books I talk about. I decided to stop doing this because, to be honest, it felt kind of bossy. Buy books wherever you want. Personally, I've been trying to get all my books as either ebooks, or through my local independently owned new and used book stores, but that's my kick. YMMV.</span></i>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-54757394303732656282013-04-03T16:20:00.000-07:002013-04-03T16:21:24.135-07:00I'm afraid to blink.When you have kids, time is scary. One minute they're eating books:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="375" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6urBZlk7uL4?rel=0" width="500"></iframe>
</div>
<br />
The next minute they're setting themselves up with a little workstation and teaching themselves to read and write:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLgYflLGk__Yqtx8GTQY7oeiCEjZq-76k1eieO3BUMeVGU2RGsJV3YQeynHCnWMzXSwIZQIImxHOZpPDTeR5-H7R2yqI_VJis7oIrdMZtCOIZgyDou5HLhirbNF99Rab4tIXX7mg/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLgYflLGk__Yqtx8GTQY7oeiCEjZq-76k1eieO3BUMeVGU2RGsJV3YQeynHCnWMzXSwIZQIImxHOZpPDTeR5-H7R2yqI_VJis7oIrdMZtCOIZgyDou5HLhirbNF99Rab4tIXX7mg/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Did I say I was afraid to blink? I meant to say terrified.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-60417635419141927382013-04-01T18:16:00.002-07:002013-04-01T18:18:15.516-07:00#1. French Lessons by Peter MayleOkay, this is getting ridiculous. If you've been coming here for any amount of time, you know that even at the best of times the posts about, you know, actual books I've read, can be a bit on the scant side. I don't know why I do this. What can I say? I'm a mystery, even to myself.<br />
<br />
Is it fitting that I'm finally finishing a post that I started TWO MONTHS AGO on April Fool's Day? Probably. While I may have been remiss in the book bloggery front, at least I've been reading at an okay pace and tracking my reads on the saddest looking, most dog-eared post-it note you can imagine.<br />
<br />
But enough chatter. Let's get this out of the way before I get distracted by something shiny.<br />
<br />
Before I say anything about this book, I feel like I have to defend myself here from potential charges of foodie-ism. I am not a foodie. I like food. I like eating it, and cooking it, and reading about it. BUT I AM NOT A FOODIE. Mostly because, like all decent people, I hate the word "foodie".<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRB3TjbZ5DuuplMDhF5v4cZO491THlgeu722NU6V5kzsGpG1e6y9-HkpPfw-qYvFyKlb0of0ORu2XFTNwx5FK8qIvOgQ0kHRb96j4eJ3t2QSrL6x0WRrXtzCJfz-aKSQoQTy5RAQ/s1600/a-year-in-provence2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRB3TjbZ5DuuplMDhF5v4cZO491THlgeu722NU6V5kzsGpG1e6y9-HkpPfw-qYvFyKlb0of0ORu2XFTNwx5FK8qIvOgQ0kHRb96j4eJ3t2QSrL6x0WRrXtzCJfz-aKSQoQTy5RAQ/s1600/a-year-in-provence2.jpg" /></a></div>
With that out of the way, I have to say that I've always liked Peter Mayle's 1991 food memoir <i>A Year in Provence.</i> It fulfills all my criteria for a good comfort read: fast, easy, funny, and makes me want to go out and eat a pile of cheese. I know people who can't stand Mayle's writing, but I'm not one of them. So over the winter break, I was in a used book store, saw this title on the shelf and thought it would be a fun read to kickstart 2013. And it was. Sort of.<br />
<br />
This is where I get into sticky territory. I hate saying mean things about books. For one thing, writing books is hard -- about a gazillion times harder than writing a blog post, and look how awesome I am at that? For another thing, on the extremely rare occasions that I've written anything negative here about a book, the author has somehow discovered it (thanks a bunch, Google) and written me a justifiably hurt note. And these notes are unfailingly polite. It kills me. I don't need that kind of guilt in my life. I already have kids.<br />
<br />
So that's my circumspect way of saying that, while <i>French Lessons</i> wasn't awful, I value your precious reading time too much to recommend it. If you're reading this, Peter Mayle, I'm sorry, but hopefully you'll be comforted by the fact that, for people in search of vicarious food and fun in southern France, I still fully endorse <i>A Year in Provence</i>.<br />
<br />
More reading updates to come soon. I'm 95 percent sure I'm not making an April Fool's Day joke when I say that.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-54181209314243896682013-01-16T10:11:00.001-08:002013-01-16T10:16:05.548-08:00Should 2013 be the year of the official Moby Dick Throwdown?Okay, I swear to god that I'm not going to be totally lame and post nothing but pictures all the time. My reading is galloping along at a respectable pace, and I'm working on a couple of posts with actual words in them. But in the meantime, I couldn't not tell you about this awesome print that arrived in the mail from my wonderful friend Shona:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIFeyneS0foQ9waRik3a1l1QSDRs-jIYYz-X9dVcUAUtDM17KMa45Zik7xWGtl2HGaUJyywiygMX9Bs_eC4_LrVoLizXcU1TqihXmXQqehsG47D2ldmNjUgHroJ3aob4HSRHxZg/s1600/moby-dick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIFeyneS0foQ9waRik3a1l1QSDRs-jIYYz-X9dVcUAUtDM17KMa45Zik7xWGtl2HGaUJyywiygMX9Bs_eC4_LrVoLizXcU1TqihXmXQqehsG47D2ldmNjUgHroJ3aob4HSRHxZg/s1600/moby-dick.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And a close-up:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVV1FtX52izNfQpQxE5CGjUJ3qOoA9Tz71F9mz6gR46B5726pJml5vzJD8LDLaUVzLBByXk_HBuSw6iZPIZ4MMgTUjdrhyphenhyphenaksyBgHARcbehM7r6wKMTV9vcH5C3WrO4TN8Bj6Chg/s1600/moby-dick-CU.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVV1FtX52izNfQpQxE5CGjUJ3qOoA9Tz71F9mz6gR46B5726pJml5vzJD8LDLaUVzLBByXk_HBuSw6iZPIZ4MMgTUjdrhyphenhyphenaksyBgHARcbehM7r6wKMTV9vcH5C3WrO4TN8Bj6Chg/s1600/moby-dick-CU.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
This print is, of course, part of Shona's ongoing campaign to get me to read her favourite novel, <b><i>Moby Dick</i></b>. And get this, she sent it to me before she even knew that I'd (a) revived this site, and (b) <a href="http://50books.blogspot.ca/2013/01/a-resolution-yeah-yeah-yeah-i-know.html">pledged</a> to read "new books that I secretly believe I'll hate, despite the fact that lots of people say they're good".<br />
<br />
What do you think? Is this a sign? Should 2013 be the year of the official Moby Dick Throwdown? If I do it, will you join me?<br />
<br />
(Print available <a href="http://www.litographs.com/products/moby">here</a>, if you're interested.)Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-77150801550501215242013-01-13T22:41:00.003-08:002013-01-16T15:39:28.426-08:00If you want a non-annoying inspirational poster, make it yourself.I was a regular contributor to <a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/">Apartment Therapy</a> for a few years, and I was there when the typographical poster wave started to crest. (I remember the very first time I saw a "Keep calm and carry on" poster. My reaction: "Oh, shit. This is going to be big.")<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The wave almost sucked me under, but I escaped just in time. As a result, I now have a bit of a love/hate relationship with inspirational quotes as art, though I could be swayed by the right inspirational quote (in other words, a quote of my own choosing).<br />
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I was pretty pleased when I came across <a href="http://www.recitethis.com/">Recite This</a>, an online tool that lets you input your own favourite quote and then apply any one of a number of templates to it. Here's what I came up with, using one of my favourite quotes from <a href="http://50books.blogspot.ca/2007/04/books-everything-was-beautiful-and.html">one</a> of my favourite twentieth-century writers:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4GQXR9t6lOFQgxap1Le-ZctZyvR7plmaeaHtqbKKSuC1sP3pan_8aHZv9L2XB2180ZGmLPDqW1q3D0dgC7jGmX68xSVCheurdAfAmMnM7us9smz7uvH6lN5OzuyG5atpCVOZRg/s1600/one-thing.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4GQXR9t6lOFQgxap1Le-ZctZyvR7plmaeaHtqbKKSuC1sP3pan_8aHZv9L2XB2180ZGmLPDqW1q3D0dgC7jGmX68xSVCheurdAfAmMnM7us9smz7uvH6lN5OzuyG5atpCVOZRg/s1600/one-thing.png" /></a></div>
<div>
Some days I need this reminder. I really do. </div>
</div>
</div>
Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-20734790382079801072013-01-08T17:36:00.002-08:002013-01-08T17:43:21.078-08:00Oops... we did it again.As I mentioned last week, my dog Dobbs died just over a year ago. (You may remember him from <a href="http://50books.blogspot.ca/2005/11/etc-born-freeeeeee.html"><b>this post</b></a>, which I'm so glad now that I wrote, even though -- or perhaps because -- it makes me cry every time I read it.) He was the funniest, sweetest, most annoying dog ever, and I'm truly sorry you never got to meet him. You would have loved him, even as you were strongarming his nose away from your crotch.<br />
<br />
He'd had a tumour removed in the summer of 2011, and we were warned there was a 50/50 chance the cancer would return. Dobbs wasn't an old dog, but he wasn't a young dog, either. He was ten years old, and we didn't think it was fair to subject him to multiple surgeries as we raced to stay one step ahead of the cancer. In the end, when the second tumour appeared, it was extremely aggressive, which was a blessing. An awful blessing, but still, I'll take my blessings where I can find him. One week he was his usual bouncy, goofy self. The next week, he was unable to even get up and walk around. We're lucky to have a vet who makes house calls. When Dobbs's time came, it was at home, in our arms, with gentle assistance from the vet. He was mourned by many. You never think about how many lives your pets' lives touch until they die.<br />
<br />
It took us a while to work our way round to the idea of adding another dog to our family, but look what we went and did last week:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCTfmdJw_9X2-nVTFGdNQwEIGI-r_KEr7g628kdBf1_IPahvUefybNzo-DWKipT62PFjJE6BCfybUj5ryjqosGAOnG_pbrJLjjhgm1McXoLmocdEIrMPSw5DkvWRO1C3k8rWktw/s1600/Gertie-blog2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCTfmdJw_9X2-nVTFGdNQwEIGI-r_KEr7g628kdBf1_IPahvUefybNzo-DWKipT62PFjJE6BCfybUj5ryjqosGAOnG_pbrJLjjhgm1McXoLmocdEIrMPSw5DkvWRO1C3k8rWktw/s1600/Gertie-blog2.jpg" /></a></div>
Meet Gunpowder Gertie, scourge o' the Kootenay River. (Namesake story <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gertrude_Stubbs">here</a>.) You can call her Gertie for short -- Gertrude when she's naughty. (Note: We call her Gertrude a lot.) She's a nine-week-old Lab/Husky/Tasmanian Devil cross. Her hobbies are digging in snow, chasing the cat, and chewing on pantlegs, hats, mittens, hair, toys (not her own), tables, and children. On the plus side, she was housetrained in four days. There's hope.<br />
<br />
Part of the reason why we needed to wait a while to get a dog was because Dobbs left some pretty big fuzzy boots to fill. He can never be replaced, but he raised the awesomeness bar almost impossibly high.<br />
<br />
Another part of the reason why I needed to wait is because, man oh man, puppies are a lot of work. Not quite as much work as kids, mind you, but having a puppy around is a lot like having a hyperactive toddler. A hyperactive toddler who likes to eat the chewy surprises she digs up in the cat's litter box and can't be temporarily anesthetized with television.<br />
<br />
(There's a book angle here. I'm getting to it.)<br />
<br />
While Dobbs was born with a greater-than-average level of awesomeness in his DNA, what made him possible to live with was training. Lots and lots of training. He was a Portuguese water dog, after all, a breed whose defining traits are curly hair, intelligence, charm, barkiness, bounciness, moochiness, and general spazziness.<br />
<br />
I am an irreligious person. So no one was surprised more than I when we turned to an order of monks to offer guidance in the ways of dog training. But when it comes to understanding how dogs think, what motivates them, and how to communicate with them, the <b><a href="http://www.dogsbestfriend.com/monastery/sk.html">monks of New Skete</a></b> get it all right. Their order has been breeding German shepherds and training dogs for 25 years, and they know what they're talking about. They want you to know, too. As trainers, they've seen what happens when well-meaning people get off on the wrong foot with training their dogs -- especially with bigger dogs -- and they're really good at explaining why owning a dog is fun, sure, but it's also serious business.<br />
<br />
John and I devoured the monks' <a href="http://www.dogsbestfriend.com/books/bk.html"><b>books</b></a> -- <b><i>The Art of Raising a Puppy</i></b> and <b><i>How to Be Your Dog's Best Friend</i></b> (both of which have recently been released with a lot of new material, and both of which are also available as <b><a href="http://www.ebooks.com/searchapp/searchresults.net?page=1&term=Monks+of+New+Skete&restrictBy=author">ebooks</a></b>) -- and man, they were so helpful to us. We have the monks of New Skete to thank for the fact that, despite Portuguese water dogs' notorious tendency to be barky and jumpy, we were able to teach Dobbs not to bark or jump (er, most of the time, anyway).<br />
<br />
(What's also important to me: the monks explain it all in plain, non-nonsense prose. I love dogs, and I totally get that there's a fascinating deep and primitive connection that we share with them. But for some reason, when I read about this fascinating deep and primitive connection in flowery prose, it makes me want to break things. If dogs could read, I bet it would make them want to break things, too. I mean, on top of the usual things they break just for the hell of it.)<br />
<br />
I find myself wanting to go on and on, because now that I've dusted them off and started re-reading them, I can't say enough good things about these books. If you need to train your dog, if you're thinking of getting a dog, or if you know people who have or are thinking of getting a dog, read these books. Promise?Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-31689214522864946012013-01-03T22:13:00.000-08:002013-01-16T15:42:34.987-08:0010 of the most beautiful school librariesIt's like the universe knows I'm blogging again and is tossing presents in my lap. Thanks, universe!<br />
<br />
I just came across <a href="http://trendland.com/10-of-the-most-beautiful-school-libraries/">this photo essay</a>, which makes me retroactively pissy about the ugliness of the library at the university (style: Cinderblock Brutalism) where I took my undergrad degree. Though to its credit, it had the most napworthy armchairs I've ever encountered. People used to race -- RACE, I tell you -- to nab a chair before 1:30 pm. It was unseemly. And if you got there too late, you were forced to wander around forlornly, envying all the snoring droolers.<br />
<br />
I've been making myself feel better by noting that I can't spot any good nap spots in these photos.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbMnvy5Btpe8wmPHLM7vt72NpTBJl_wDgj1AktiCpazREU03CYMe0gr1297q-MurLRTdXGsgo34TIUn_f5Rtj2UHyV784jfvzWENssxUz1apltANVbhhWvH7DUUhMkd5ADKMM5A/s1600/michigan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbMnvy5Btpe8wmPHLM7vt72NpTBJl_wDgj1AktiCpazREU03CYMe0gr1297q-MurLRTdXGsgo34TIUn_f5Rtj2UHyV784jfvzWENssxUz1apltANVbhhWvH7DUUhMkd5ADKMM5A/s640/michigan.jpg" width="489" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>University of Michigan Law Library, Ann Arbor, MI</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEium3Gm5D4X33nxtBT1hcjutltI_xSJDCH-5NVy0oon0TTcSxJDZYypiWgEGIX1awZn_diq_k_ta7tXWhgrhyphenhyphenYpLpxyDsTIhcnFaqMgbMVgSz_uivo8NmsTWUtWn70QrK5qTDuJkQ/s1600/salamanca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEium3Gm5D4X33nxtBT1hcjutltI_xSJDCH-5NVy0oon0TTcSxJDZYypiWgEGIX1awZn_diq_k_ta7tXWhgrhyphenhyphenYpLpxyDsTIhcnFaqMgbMVgSz_uivo8NmsTWUtWn70QrK5qTDuJkQ/s400/salamanca.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>University of Salamanca Library, Salamanca, Spain</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPyKFXBoKsxkXCF1CAlm83CWOQklq3ubgDqqodxqjpraY_0kULUbPP0VnzddrDvLEdTJw8o2kqVOCpCiq2LYkP2gGBlLUNCah2iuwRaCHyLFUBQXOnxtgaXeQhL5m_FfxfnWzdw/s1600/delft.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPyKFXBoKsxkXCF1CAlm83CWOQklq3ubgDqqodxqjpraY_0kULUbPP0VnzddrDvLEdTJw8o2kqVOCpCiq2LYkP2gGBlLUNCah2iuwRaCHyLFUBQXOnxtgaXeQhL5m_FfxfnWzdw/s400/delft.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Central Library, University of Technology, Delft, Netherlands</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1xwuT3usUF5F4KRvAFGcaQYFMe5R82roXcxf-BBDf19zZ63mtEvBLM4S0CxtTAGlipmVS7dhBP8LgUQLkM7oC-RZAFcyDdZgNC3igqCpr6_p9MdtIlvohdreMHMrAGLlFIX9NsQ/s1600/philological.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1xwuT3usUF5F4KRvAFGcaQYFMe5R82roXcxf-BBDf19zZ63mtEvBLM4S0CxtTAGlipmVS7dhBP8LgUQLkM7oC-RZAFcyDdZgNC3igqCpr6_p9MdtIlvohdreMHMrAGLlFIX9NsQ/s400/philological.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Philological Library of the Free University, Berlin, Germany</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
See the full photo essay <a href="http://trendland.com/10-of-the-most-beautiful-school-libraries/">here</a>.Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-41059344111286039592013-01-02T22:48:00.002-08:002013-01-03T14:42:16.522-08:00A resolution. Yeah, yeah, yeah... I know.Hey there, friends. What's up?<br />
<br />
Oh, me? What's been going on over here since I pretty much dropped off the face of this site a couple of years back? The usual. Turned forty. Beloved old cat passed away. Followed by beloved not-so-old dog. Festering disenchantment with overpriced life in waterlogged city. Existential despair. Packed up worldly goods and moved to the mountains. Pretty classic midlife crisis stuff.<br />
<br />
I always thought midlife crises only happen to men, and that their only logical outcome resulted in blonde teenagers and red convertibles. I figured I was safe because I don't drive and I've never cared for teenagers, even when I was one. I think I was a year into my own little midlife situation before I even identified it as such. And I'm not sure it's over yet. I have no idea what the rules are for this thing. But I will say this: don't knock midlife crises. There's a lot to be said for having a good hard think about what the hell you're doing with your life and then feeling a powerful compulsion to shake yourself and make some big changes. I'm just grateful to have a partner who thoughtfully timed his midlife crisis to coincide with mine. ("Hey, baby, I've been thinking we need to get the hell out of this godforsaken city and move to a ski town, even though we don't ski." "Me, too!" "Really? It's going to mean doing hard things like packing boxes and leaving jobs and memorizing a brand-new phone number." "No problem!")<br />
<br />
All this change is unsettling, sure, but it's got texture. And knowing myself, without texture I'd probably just sleep all day.<br />
<br />
I've been wondering to myself why I let this site slide further and further into the background for so long. I've been busy, of course. But jeez, I remember back in the heyday (complete with flappers and bathtub gin! You should've been there!) when I was working full-time, doing my best to be a rockin' mom to Sam in my off-time, all while gestating ol' Will. I spent almost the entire pregnancy feeling nauseated, but never got around to throwing up because I couldn't make the time to get to the bathroom. And even then I was still cranking out a few posts every week.<br />
<br />
I think that I got to a point where there were so many changes going on in my life that I'd reverted to a pretty predictable behaviour for me: <a href="http://50books.blogspot.ca/2010/02/50-books-reprise.html">comfort re-reading</a>. And seriously, how many times do you nice people really need to re-listen to my ever-so-trenchant observations about Jane Austen's entire oeuvre (with the exception of all seven of you hardcore Austen weirdos)? For that matter, how many new things can I even say about Austen at this point in my reading career? "I love her. She rocks. The end."<br />
<br />
And then I started to feel kind of rusty in the book-thinkery department. And then I changed my template and hated it but was too lazy to change it back. And then I forgot my password. Mix those with our old friend, chronic busy-itis, and you've got the recipe for blog coma. (Do comas have recipes? How long can I give myself a free pass for effed-up metaphors? DID I MENTION THE FACT THAT I'M FEELING RUSTY?) But I'm feeling like the coma is ending. I want to thank those of you who came and held my hand and told me all I had to do is squeeze once for yes and twice for no. Double thanks to the very special people who pulled bedpan duty. You know who you are.<br />
<br />
I have mixed feelings about resolutions, but I have mixed feelings about most things, so I didn't let them get in the way of making one for this year:<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Move past the comfort re-reads. Read new books. Or books I haven't read in a long, long, long time (which, with my memory, are pretty much the same as new books). Or books I read a long time ago and hated, even though lots of people said they were good. Or new books that I secretly believe I'll hate, despite the fact that lots of people say they're good.</b><br />
<br />
I suspect that I'm going to have moments of hating this resolution, but hey, that's texture for you.<br />
<br />
No big promises, but I'm feeling good about 2013. How about you?Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-2420892271039382822011-02-10T11:57:00.000-08:002011-02-20T21:15:45.661-08:00January's top 10 most expensive sales on AbeBooks<div style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="http://www.abebooks.com/books/RareBooks/cosway-harriet-beecher-stowe/most-expensive-jan11.shtml?cm_mmc=nl-_-nl-_-110201-h00-mostexpnD-_-01cta">Signed copies of the Harry Potter books outsold first editions by Faulkner, Trollope, and Teddy Roosevelt.</a> </div><div style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: verdana;">Right now, Faulkner is rolling over in his grave, cursing his decision to go the idiot manchild route instead of the wizard route.</div>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-871436719922237462010-04-29T22:50:00.000-07:002011-02-20T21:16:09.346-08:00Perfect Evidence of My Imperfect Memory<span style="font-family: verdana;">Well, I was planning to write about the books I've read so that I can finally update that sad little "Books in 2010" list in the sidebar, but wouldn't you know it? I didn't plan well and forgot to bring my stack of recent reads out of the bedroom. And now poor old Rusty is asleep and I don't have the heart to clomp around gathering them.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">So in lieu of my penetrating and always-fascinating insights into the modern novel, I thought I'd follow up on an idea that was twigged by my last post, where I talked about my shitty memory. As proof of this fact, I thought it would be fun (well, fun for me; you're on your own) to go through the archives and see how many books I flat-out cannot remember reading. Prepare to be amazed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">From 2005</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Dear god. Apparently I read </span><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://50books.blogspot.com/2005/08/books-shocking-shameful-secrets.html">Chicken Soup for the Mother's Soul 2</a><span style="font-family: verdana;">. Wow. I may reel from this for days. Apparently it made me weepy. Apparently I have a heart of stone because I remember none of this.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Sadly, I also don't remember reading Barbara Kingsolver's </span><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://50books.blogspot.com/2005/07/books-im-uneasy-being-green.html">Prodigal Summer</a><span style="font-family: verdana;">. Blasphemy! But let's be honest with each other here: as awesome as she is, we all know Kingsolver doesn't always hit 'em out of the park. I'm not going to be too tough on myself.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">From 2006</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">And I read... a Candace Bushnell novel? Really? I mean, I'm the only person who has the passwords and stuff to post here, and I'm reading a post about </span><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://50books.blogspot.com/2006/06/books-secret-confessions-of-nice-girl.html">Lipstick Jungle</a><span style="font-family: verdana;"> right here, so I guess I read it. Huh. I would feel shame, but I'm too busy being confused.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Did you know Margaret Atwood wrote a collection of vignettes called </span><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://50books.blogspot.com/2006/10/books-spot-of-awesome.html">Moral Disorder</a><span style="font-family: verdana;">? You did? Because I didn't. Or at least, I thought I didn't until I realized that I read them four years ago. Go figger.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">From 2007</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">And then there's the collection of Eudora Welty's early short stories, </span><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://50books.blogspot.com/2007/09/midsummer-latesummer-nights-book.html">A Curtain of Green</a><span style="font-family: verdana;">. I'm sorry, Eudora. You may belch like a champion, but you still deserve better than me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">And we all know how </span><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://50books.blogspot.com/2010/01/books-in-2008.html">2008</a><span style="font-family: verdana;"> and </span><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://50books.blogspot.com/2010/01/books-in-2009.html">2009</a><span style="font-family: verdana;"> went.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">So there you have it. Perfect evidence of my imperfect memory. As if I needed to be humbled further.</span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-37907096479107058032010-02-28T23:41:00.000-08:002010-03-01T00:05:35.927-08:0050 Books Reprise<span style="font-family: verdana;">Well, that was one of the worst new year's resolutions ever. I can't believe there was a time when I used to update this site every day. Holy crap.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">So I was looking at the growing stack of completed books beside my bed and realized that every single one of them is a re-read. And I realized that, not only do I seem to be unwittingly reading only books I've read before, but I have no desire to read something new. What's the deal with this?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm not concerned about it or anything, mind you. In fact, I'm kind of embracing it. I've always been a re-reader. Up until a few years ago, I had always assumed that anyone who reads a lot – and who values good books – must also re-tread a lot of bookish ground. I was surprised to learn that, in fact, I'm the oddity. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I re-read for a lot of reasons. The fact that I have a terrible memory is a big one. I have to read a book at least twice for the ending to stick, and I can be just as shocked by sudden plot twists the third time around as I was the first and second. (Note: This also happens to me in real life.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Comfort is another big reason. Like most of you (I'm guessing), there are times when I read prescriptively. I'm blue, so I need some P.G. Wodehouse. I'm blah, so I need some Tolkien. Etcetera. The older I get, the better I am at assessing my mental state and writing out a little literary Rx for what ails me. This is an unanticipated benefit of aging, and one that I'm grateful for. Hopefully it will prevent me from ever stumbling again as catastrophically as I did during The Already Horrible November During Which I Read <span style="font-style: italic;">The Death of Ivan Ilych</span> and Got Even More Depressed. (My man Rusty remembers this as The Month I Found Doppelganger Hiding Under the Bed and Had to Poke Her Out With a Broom.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">But comfort and addled brains aside, I love re-reading books because they serve as benchmarks for me. I remember that I first read <span style="font-style: italic;">Pride and Prejudice</span> when I was seventeen, the same age as Elizabeth Bennett. She seemed impossibly alien to me then. I've read <span style="font-style: italic;">Pride and Prejudice</span>, oh, about ten or so times since then, and the older I get, the more I understand Elizabeth. And dear god, now that I have kids, I'm even starting to get Mrs. Bennett. Help me. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">The <span style="font-style: italic;">Pride and Prejudice</span> I read twenty-three years ago is a completely different novel from the one I read last year. I can't imagine what it will become in the decades ahead. This is terribly exciting to me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I think any book truly worth reading once is worth reading again and again. So I've decided that this year, barring any encounters with brand-new books I must read, will be the year that I try to re-read fifty of the best books I can remember (ha!) reading over the past decades. Exciting!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Coming up next: </span>The Hobbit.</span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-9975558463201817602010-01-19T20:52:00.000-08:002010-01-19T20:57:06.327-08:00Corn Dodger? But I Hardly Even Know Her.<span style="font-family: verdana;">Hey ho, if you love the Little House series and you love food, then you should check out </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">The Little House Cookbook: Frontier Foods from Laura Ingalls Wilder's Classic Stories</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">What's that? You've never heard of this awesome book? Well then, it's a good thing I wrote a review of it right over </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" href="http://www.thekitchn.com/thekitchn/the-little-house-cookbook-by-barbara-m-walker-book-review-2010-106318">here</a><span style="font-family: verdana;">.</span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-63004651188654658752010-01-18T23:17:00.000-08:002010-01-18T23:46:18.001-08:00Why I Am Smarter Than the Average Doctor, Thanks to Children's Literature<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Question:<br /></span>What do the following children's books have in common?</span><br /><ul><li><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">All-of-a-Kind Family</span> by Sydney Taylor</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;">The Little House novels by Laura Ingalls Wilder</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Moffats</span> by Eleanor Estes</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Little Women</span> by Louisa May Alcott</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Velveteen Rabbit</span> by Margery Williams</span></li></ul><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Answer:</span><br /></span><ol><li><span style="font-family:verdana;">They were all written at least sixty years ago.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;">They all contain characters who came down with that dreaded Victorian malady: scarlet fever.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;">They were the reason why I, having read them all, correctly diagnosed Sam with scarlet fever last week. The doctors were skeptical, but in the end a throat swab doesn't lie.</span></li></ol><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now, in all fairness to modern doctors, it's not like scarlet fever gets a lot of airplay these days. Most of us have moved on to trendier, contemporary ailments like ebola, hanta, and flus both avian and swine-ish. But not over here at Chez 50 Books. Staunch traditionalists and hardcore nerds, we're firmly dedicated to reviving the classics. Last year, it was impetigo. Next year, we're thinking maybe the vapours? Or perhaps a wandering uterus? It's still up for debate. It's not too late to cast your vote!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">So yeah, I don't hold a grudge against the doctors... though I have every right to, because they may not think I noticed it, but I was VERY aware of the "Uh-Oh, Crazy Mom Alert" looks and barely veiled eyerolling, even over the phone. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">The good news: We caught the illness early, gave it a serious penicillin smackdown, and by watching Will vigilantly, were able to catch it even earlier with him, before he got all rashed up. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">The bad news: No velveteen rabbits got a chance to become real.</span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-88762010614009006082010-01-14T13:22:00.000-08:002010-01-14T14:21:36.141-08:00In Which I Attempt to Catch Up on Two Years of Reading. (Can It Be Done?)<span style="font-family:verdana;">So I looked over at my sidebar to figure out where I left off my annual book count, and realized I haven't updated the bloody thing since December 2007. 2007! I've lost two years! I thought I'd only lost one, but two! And dude, I can barely remember my own kids' birthdays or what I had for dinner last night.* I can't remember what I read two years ago. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Lest we all expire from suspense, I can assure you that I did reach 50 books in '07. I just can't recall what those last few stragglers were. I hope they were good. As for 2008 and 2009, I can make a few deductions based on cross-referencing the messy stacks on my nightstand against my documented reads:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">A lot of </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Bill Bryson</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">'s books. I love Bill Bryson. He makes me laugh. Reading half of his bibliography was part of my campaign to stave off a rotten case of November blahs. It was a marked contrast to what I read during the previous November, </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >The Death of Ivan Ilych</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">. Please, please promise me you will never do this, because -- and I say this without hyperbole -- that was the worst month of my life. If you must read </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >Ivan Ilych</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> (and I'm not saying you shouldn't, because it's great), wait till July, or at least May.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Oh, and speaking of Bryson, I finally read </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >A Brief History of Nearly Everything</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> and loved it. I can't wait for the sequel!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I finally read </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >In Cold Blood</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">, after stalling for, what... two years? It was chilling, but it was also really interesting. And it didn't scare the beheebus out of me the way I had dreaded.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I can't not read everything by </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Nick Hornby</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">. Sometimes I'm kind of disappointed (</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >A Long Way Down</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">, </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >How to Be Good</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">), and sometimes I'm happy (</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >High Fidelity</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">, </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >About a Boy</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">), but read them all I must. I was a little worried about Hornby's recent novel, </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >Slam</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">, because I tend to prefer his earlier books, but </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >Slam</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> was wonderful, insightful, and totally heartwarming in a classic Nick Hornby kind of way. The main character is the most lovable character, next to Marcus from </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >About a Boy</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">, that Hornby has ever written.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Also from the "Finally Read" files: </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >Freakonomics</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">, which was fun and interesting, though I was kind of choked to find out later that a lot of Levitt's findings have since been debunked. Thanks for nothing, Levitt.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I know I went on a </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Murial Spark</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> bender at one point, though I can't track down all the titles now. It doesn't matter, though, because you don't need specific recommendations for Spark. She's pretty prolific, so just grab every one of her novels that you find at the used bookstore and read them all.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I also went on separate </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Jane Austen</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> and </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Carol Shields</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> benders. How do I know this with such certainty? Because I do this every year. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I re-read the entire </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Little House</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> series. I had planned just to read </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >Little House in the Big Woods</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">, mostly because I love the chapter about the sugaring-off party, but wouldn't you know it? I got sucked right into the Ingallses' lives. And let me tell you what: it sure put my petty little problems into perspective. Because you know what's worse than realizing you have a few competing work deadlines? Painstakingly building your house by hand in hostile territory, then being told by the government that you've built it two miles from the wrong side of a boundary and having to move out and leave it behind.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I read </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Miriam Toews</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">' latest novel, </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >The Flying Troutmans</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">. It was okay, as her novels tend to be, but I guess I'm waiting for another </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >A Complicated Kindness</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">. You can do it, Miriam! I believe in you!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Oh, god, I just remembered that I read </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >The Unconsoled</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> by </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Kazuo Ishiguro</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">. I say this with authority: this novel is the reason why the phrase "WTF?" was invented. Though the problem may have been me. Once upon a time, I think I used to be smarter.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Er, I know there are more books than these (many more! Insomnia is my friend!), but I'm kind of drawing a blank. I'll let you know if I remember anything good. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Next up... writing about the books I've read so far in 2010: The Year I Resolve to Be Better.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">*After much struggle, I did remember what I had for dinner last night. But it took an alarmingly long time.</span></span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-58974294410766626622010-01-12T15:23:00.000-08:002010-01-12T15:59:04.899-08:00By Way of Catching Up<span style="font-family:verdana;">If you've been wondering (and it's okay of you haven't been; my ego can take it), here's what I was up to in '09:</span><br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.flickr.com/slideShow/index.gne?group_id=&user_id=96468734@N00&set_id=72157623074189101&text=" align="center" frameborder="0" height="400" scrolling="no" width="400"></iframe><br /><small>Created with <a href="http://www.admarket.se/" title="Admarket.se">Admarket's</a> <a href="http://flickrslidr.com/" title="flickrSLiDR">flickrSLiDR</a>.</small><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And now we're caught up with me! What the heck is new with you?<br /></span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-71111784921905476772010-01-11T00:50:00.000-08:002010-01-12T22:12:07.317-08:00Well, Here I Am<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">And where are you? Still out there? Still visiting blogs? Or has everyone moved on to Facebook now? (I won't say Twitter because where I'm from, them's fightin' words.) </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">So it's been a while. I've been back here from time to time over the past several months, mostly to prune spam from the comments. (What the hell is it with comment spam, anyway? Can someone explain to me the point of the godforsaken stuff? On second thought, don't.) But now it's a new year... five years, actually, from the time when I first started up this here little site as a project to keep me sane as first-time motherhood approached. (Did it work? HAHAHAHAHAhahahaha... um, ha.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">There's a lot to catch up on, but it's late. I'm tired. Are you tired, too? I thought you might be. So let's make a date to talk soon. Very soon. About books!</span></span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-81899043337645838112010-01-01T15:11:00.000-08:002010-01-14T15:12:12.836-08:00The Books in 2009<span style="font-family: verdana;">See </span><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://50books.blogspot.com/2010/01/books-in-2008.html">The Books in 2008</a><span style="font-family: verdana;">.</span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-71478666980079428902009-03-25T23:35:00.000-07:002009-03-25T23:37:54.437-07:00Just So's You Know What I'm Up to These Days<span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm still blogging, just doing it </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" href="http://100mile.foodtv.ca/blog">over here</a><span style="font-family: verdana;">. And editing the rest of the site, too. </span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-27194111700721362112009-03-06T23:37:00.000-08:002009-03-06T23:40:01.829-08:00Preschooler Refrain, or: Why Bedtime Takes So Long at Our House<span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">"I think I'll go out to Alberta. Weather's good there in the fall. Got some friends that I could go to working for."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> What friends? What kind of work?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">"Still I wish you'd change your mind, if I asked you one more time"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> I would totally change my mind.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">"But we've been through that a hundred times or more."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> We've been through that a hundred and ONE times.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">"Four strong winds that blow lonely"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> [tearfully] Why are the winds lonely?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">"Seven seas that run high"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> What are the seven seas? What does "run high" mean?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">"All those things that don't change, come what may"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> Why don't those things change?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">"But our good times, they are gone"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> Where did they go?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">"And I'm bound for moving on. I'll look for you if I'm ever back this way."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> I would look for you and I would find you.</span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-46337219262224033052009-01-01T15:08:00.000-08:002010-01-14T15:10:51.963-08:00The Books in 2008<span style="font-family:verdana;">Er, nothing to report here, I'm afraid. Books were read, but having a second kid knocked the wind out of my blogging sails. Given the choice between reading books and writing books, I went with reading. You understand.</span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-38886345249185479472008-12-28T22:32:00.001-08:002008-12-28T23:06:30.391-08:00Happy Whatevermas!<span style="font-family:verdana;">Is it possible to delurk from your own site? If so, hi! This is me, delurking to wish you and yours a belated happy whatevermas. I come bearing pictures! Specifically, pictures of what's turned me into a skulking, shadowy, and (dare I dream?) somewhat menacing presence at 50 Books HQ:</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20ohogCBDg9_Euo7KH7zk-BCWq-1M22FQt9m0ngVl2XDP2TDiv2g9nrFfB1yh8PMjLzmj_93aEfQuqqTsrhjrVX0ASWE1bYZSRk_3DbaRmIBJ_uFpdJq_SHCksWxbgubpPLPuGg/s1600-h/sledding-sam-will-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20ohogCBDg9_Euo7KH7zk-BCWq-1M22FQt9m0ngVl2XDP2TDiv2g9nrFfB1yh8PMjLzmj_93aEfQuqqTsrhjrVX0ASWE1bYZSRk_3DbaRmIBJ_uFpdJq_SHCksWxbgubpPLPuGg/s400/sledding-sam-will-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285102280011870178" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUo7TKmkzNxgDt4GqEmwC6ox5dNQ97Hr6lm9_gYHztYDOfUa_LSPa3lwvOMQnRlHSrPGwgjzQI0nxhW7jJ5uJa3D6DW-hUNoIOhh4cWx-knsit6RF4HTLIrco003jJOd4TC60nfA/s1600-h/goofball-sam.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUo7TKmkzNxgDt4GqEmwC6ox5dNQ97Hr6lm9_gYHztYDOfUa_LSPa3lwvOMQnRlHSrPGwgjzQI0nxhW7jJ5uJa3D6DW-hUNoIOhh4cWx-knsit6RF4HTLIrco003jJOd4TC60nfA/s400/goofball-sam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285101417407168114" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_lg99JDzqUd3Eic3Z7Y60ckxF2FTYk8nsdIGIpZ9y12CULWy-wX-lxLxhW5AMEi_x2Wa89dc7s0JnR9kB__78k5qj_4ENZqzlUuH2xDUS_vvulgTrsyA15qKBtLg4ZU8FmTUQqg/s1600-h/beautiful-will.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_lg99JDzqUd3Eic3Z7Y60ckxF2FTYk8nsdIGIpZ9y12CULWy-wX-lxLxhW5AMEi_x2Wa89dc7s0JnR9kB__78k5qj_4ENZqzlUuH2xDUS_vvulgTrsyA15qKBtLg4ZU8FmTUQqg/s400/beautiful-will.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285101413465165490" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">Wee Will is not quite so wee, having recently passed the nine-month mark and long passed the 20-lb mark. He's added standing and raspberry-blowing to his list of accomplishments. Frankly, I'm impressed that he's found time to master these skills, what with all the energy he's been devoting to practicing for the Olympic Speed-Teething Team. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />And Sam is officially in big brother mode. Also: Big Brother mode. I finally get where Orwell got that particular turn of phrase. Is it wrong that we've nicknamed our own child Sammy the Rat? For whatever it's worth, we don't say it to his face.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />They're sweet and funny and ever-so-cute, but they're also CRAZY. As I said to a friend who is contemplating having another baby: "If you find yourself with a bit of free time on your hands from time to time, I highly recommend a second child."</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />But enough about me. What about you?</span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-45606341881042582342008-09-09T21:46:00.000-07:002008-09-09T22:31:44.729-07:00No, Really... He Likes Books<span style="font-family: verdana;">Hola! Things are still nutty around here. The leaves are turning red (well, brown, but work with me). Toddlers are turning into preschoolers. Infants are turning into babies. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Specifically, infants are turning into loud, loud, let-me-just-say-that-again LOUD babies. To wit:</span><br /><br /><object style="font-family: verdana;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6urBZlk7uL4&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6urBZlk7uL4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">We do feel lucky to have such a jolly baby this time around, unlike his grouchasaurus older brother. It's just kind of funny that Will's happiness makes him sound exactly like Archie Bunker.</span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9931308.post-68681786377057875002008-08-01T10:09:00.000-07:002008-08-01T14:40:19.369-07:00Now, Where Was I?<span style="font-family:verdana;">As you may have guessed (if, in fact, there still is a "you" out there after my long silence), I've been taking a little break from this site. Being a mom to two kids -- no matter how awesome said kids are -- kind of kicked my ass for a while. And I got the </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" href="http://50books.blogspot.com/2008/05/cattle-calling.html">Apartment Therapy gig</a><span style="font-family:verdana;">, which is great fun, but takes up the little free time I have. And I just signed on to start work on another site this fall, for a tremendously cool and inspiring show that'll be on the Food Network in the spring. And I finally cleaned my closet.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">But I'll be back, I swear. I'm still tracking my reading, such as it is. (Bad news: Unless you count kids' books, I'm not going to hit 50 books this year, for the first time since I started this site.)<br /><br />I've missed you guys (again with the hypothetical "you"). Stick around, okay?</span>Tammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16613804843380827691noreply@blogger.com17