Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

A few hours ago I was about to start a recipe review when I got distracted by something–I don’t remember exactly what–and didn’t get to it.  Since I finished reading Jim Murphy’s Truce to my older girls tonight, however, you get a book review instead.  Enjoy!

If you’re not familiar with the ‘Christmas truce’ of WWI, that part of the book alone should fascinate you; I’ve heard enough about it over the years, however, that what I found most interesting was Murphy’s explanation of the European countries’ attitudes before WWI.  I learned about the secret alliances and the assassination of Franz Ferdinand in Serbia when I was a sophomore in high school–shout out to Mr. Bowes!–but Murphy’s descriptions of the leaders of the countries involved, together with the quotes from some of the relevant documents, added significantly to my understanding of how such a pointless, tragic war began.  Full of photos of the war itself as well as the truce, this is not a book that sugarcoats the aftermath of such a vast conflict; the black-and-white, often fuzzy quality of the photos, however, allows young readers some distance.  Ultimately, Murphy successfully balances information about the truce itself with enough context to make it accessible for its intended audience, while his epilogue suggests a modern parallel that I’m going to be pondering for a while.  If you’re looking for non-fiction for middle graders, he’s an author worth noting, especially given his two Newbery Honor books.  Just pick up one of his books and start reading!

Introducing a Dick-and-Jane-(and-Spot)-style recipe review, because I am just plain too tired for anything else…

See these Sweet Ham and Swiss Sliders?  They are good.  We liked them.  I used King’s Hawaiian rolls.  They were good.  The recipe calls for a lot of butter.  I doubled the recipe.  I one-and-a-halved the butter.  Using less butter was okay.

I made them a second time.  I caramelized onions.  I put them on some of the sliders.  They were very good.

I like them.  My hubby likes them.  My children like them.  They are good.

You should make the sliders.  You will like them.  They are good.

Hope you enjoyed your blast from the past, folks.  Sleep well all!

Yesterday I finished listening to Margot Lee Shetterly’s Hidden Figures:  The American Dream and the Untold Story of the Black Women Mathematicians Who Helped Win the Space Race (the whole book, not just the title).  I wanted to read it before I saw the movie–I like to know what’s true and what’s not from the get-go–and I was pleasantly surprised to see that, unlike so much of the nonfiction that interests me, Hidden Figures was available to borrow immediately.

Now I know why.

Don’t get me wrong–I found it thoroughly interesting, and I’m definitely glad I read (listened to!) it.  It’s just that in the course of describing what the women in the title did, how their careers progressed, and what kind of achievements they were involved in, Shetterly couldn’t really avoid language that was more technical than I prefer when I’m exercising and can’t see the text of the book.  (Or, you know, more technical than I generally use, period.)  All of the different kinds of sonics–supersonic, and hypersonic, and ALL THE SONICS–plus the topics of reports authored or coauthored by some of the women, and the focus of the different groups they were (eventually) assigned to, were hard to conceptualize for me; I never took physics and calculus was over 20 years ago at this point.  I’m not sure I’d call it inaccessible, but I wouldn’t call it solidly accessible, either.  (I guess you can do with that what you will.)

Besides the technicality of the content, however, it also occurs to me that I had slightly skewed expectations of the book’s focus.  I think I was expecting more the drama of “Apollo 13” (the movie, although I did read the book once upon a time), but to get a good sense of Hidden Figures, you have to pay attention to both parts of the subtitle.  Overall, I’d recommend it–I learned all kinds of things I didn’t know, and it did keep me interested–but I don’t think audio is the best way to experience it.  (You’re also going to want to read it at a time and in a place where you can focus without much by way of distraction.)  Let me know what you think when you read it!

Today, for the first time, my newly 6-year-old son was the child who asked me if “we could PLEASE get the next Mighty Jack book?”  You know, in that aggravated tone that says the child is SURE he’s been waiting for at least 6 months?

I loved it.

I decided to give him Mighty Jack because Ben Hatke’s graphic novels are light on text; I figured he’d be able to read it, even if it took him a bit, and the graphic novel style was likely to keep him interested.  I was right.  He and his older sisters loved it, and it’s in self-preservation that I’m reviewing Mighty Jack and the Goblin King tonight, because if they find out that a) we have it and b) I’ve finished it but c) it’s still not available to them, I’m not sure I’m going to like the consequences.  (And seriously, the first book ends on quite the cliffhanger; I really can’t blame them.)  In Goblin King Jack and Lilly follow Maddy’s abductor right out of their world, only to find themselves separated and forced to rely on strange allies to rescue her.  There are scenes reminiscent of one of the “Pirates of the Caribbean” movies here, as well as one of the Harry Potter books, but ultimately it’s a creative and compelling conclusion to Hatke’s reimagining of “Jack and the Beanstalk”.  I hope your kiddos enjoy it as much as mine will!

The 3,000 piece puzzle is completed–and glued!  Now, on to the next one…because yes, we’re gluttons for punishment over here.

I skipped a post because the 17th is my birthday and I was feeling lazy, just so you know; I also still hadn’t finished a book yet, because 3,000 PIECE PUZZLE.  (It’s the tree or me at this point.)  Last night, however, I finished off Charise Mericle Harper’s Dreamer, Wisher, Liar, and I have to say–I was impressed.  My girls have both enjoyed Harper’s Just Grace series, but it’s for younger readers; Dreamer, Wisher, Liar is almost 350 pages long and very solidly middle grade.  And it’s fascinating.

The narrator and main character has face blindness, which makes her best friend’s impending out-of-state move a disaster of epic proportions.  Lucy is the one who helps her identify people, who saves her from awkwardness in basic social situations whenever she and Ash are together.  Now Lucy’s at summer camp and Ashley is stuck helping babysit the 7-year-old daughter of her mother’s friend.  Claire is loud and social and relentless, throwing Ash’s carefully constructed habits into chaos.  Add in a series of unexpected trips into someone else’s past, and you have a summer full of change, growth, and little touches of magic.

Okay, now that I’ve given an advertisement sort of blurb–it’s what came out tonight, sorry–let me say this.  Ash drew me quickly into her world and kept me there; I didn’t always agree with her outlook on or reactions to life, but it was easy to see her motivations.  (Google face blindness sometime.  It will blow your mind a little.)  The threads of the novel gradually weave together into a slightly complex but completely readable story, a story that sticks with you after you finish the book.  If you’ve got middle grade girls, don’t pass this one by.

By the way, what’s looming now is 40.  I’m now officially 39, and I’m still trying to decide how I feel about it!

Mine.  It was mine.  My friend Britt’s hubby picked up some 3,000 piece puzzles somewhere–older ones–and I said yes to the lot of them.  We used one as a white elephant gift, but we’ve still got a stack, and a week or so ago my hubby picked one to start.  We are, of course, still working on it, which is why I have yet to finish the book I’m reading; I’ve been sweating over a tree trunk and its surrounding sky in Lake Thun, Switzerland.  You know how there’s a feel to a 1,000 piece puzzle?  An arc of progress that enables you to feel about how close to the end you are?  Yeah, well, 3,000 piece puzzles just go on and on–and on.  My hubby’s done the ground work–as in, grass, bushes, buildings, etc.–and I’ve done one LARGE tree trunk and patches (and patches!) of sky.  My current patches of sky have branches on them.

Now that I think about it, at least 1,000 pieces of this puzzle–probably more–are tree branches and sky, which means I’ve been doing the equivalent of an entire normal sized puzzle of ONLY TREE AND SKY.

Whose idea was this again?

Jacqueline Winspear’s Maisie Dobbs has been my first (committed) attempt to listen to fiction, and overall, it’s been a success.  Some of the voices and occasional phrases come across differently in an audiobook–I do still prefer reading fiction to listening to it–but the British accent of the narrator added a nice bit of authenticity, and I certainly reached a point, like in any decent mystery, where I didn’t want to stop.  Some of Maisie’s investigative methods are a bit far-fetched for me, but I liked her and her cast of supporting characters; moreover, the why of the mystery did actually surprise me.  (Not the general result, but the psychology behind it.)  My one serious beef with the book as a whole was the lengthy flashback that makes up a least a third of the book.  My guess is that Winspear, as a first-time novelist, wasn’t sure how else to include the information; alternating chapters from the two time periods represented would have been better for the book’s structure, but it would also have been very hard to do.  In a first book, this is understandable (if not ideal), and I don’t imagine that subsequent books in the series will have quite the same issue.   The good news is that I do care about the next book, and audio does seem to be the way for me to read a series that I would likely never have gotten to otherwise.  If you like period mysteries–this one takes place both during WWI and in the late 20s–you should definitely give this one a try!

That was my nod toward a double meaning, because Vera Brosgol’s Be Prepared is set largely at a summer camp, and I read it while I was up in the mountains at the bi-annual (please tell me that means every two years!) summer family reunion with my hubby’s side of the family.  I enjoyed it, too; Brosgol writes from her own experiences as a Russian immigrant, and it’s a fascinating perspective.  Her loneliness and search for belonging was painful at times–I hurt for her at the other girls’ behavior–but her growth and dawning recognition of what is worthwhile in a friend is a beautiful thing to see (although some of what preceded the growth was also painful).  There is a bit of crudity coming from the mean girls, but overall, the message places that soundly in the kind of context that sends all the right messages.  If you’re looking for a different sort of coming-of-age graphic novel for your latter elementary schooler, be sure to check out this one!

My kids had better appreciate the love, friends, because I took the three older ones to Lagoon (Utah’s amusement park) today, and when I got back into the car that had been sitting in the parking lot for hours on end, its temperature read 107.   Sure, it’s a dry heat, but triple digits are HOT no matter what kind of heat it is, and the altitude gives the sun a burning intensity that it just doesn’t have at sea level.  Add that to the sad truth that many rides are no longer particularly fun for me–call me stodgy–and yes, today was really all about the fact that I do love my kids.  (Also about the fact that other people love my kids, since they drifted from family group to family group as they chose; they seriously have the best aunts, uncles, and cousins in the world.  AND grandparents!)

That being the case, today’s review is going to be a short one.  After reading the Zita trilogy and several of Ben Hatke’s picture books, I checked Mighty Jack out of the library to see if it was something the kids would enjoy.  After finishing it, I imagine it will be; it’s a creative, modern retelling of “Jack and the Beanstalk” with a few crossover characters from Zita, although the main characters are a few years older.  Hatke’s style is patently recognizable–text is sparse in his graphic novels, although the stories don’t suffer because of it–and the ending certainly left me wanting to read the next one.  Mighty Jack ought to appeal to a wide range of readers, including those who struggle a bit.  I’ll let you know how my kiddos feel about it; in the meantime, I am covered in sweat and traces of sunscreen, and the shower calls!