Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

Oh, Kate DiCamillo.

The woman can write SO beautifully–and she can pull you far enough into a story that you want to finish it. But MAN, she gets weird! To be fair, I did expect Raymie Nightingale to be quirky; after all, the inside cover begins its synopsis by telling you that Raymie’s father has run away with a dental hygienist, and Raymie plans to learn how to twirl a baton, win the Little Miss Central Florida Tire competition, and get her picture in the paper, all so that he will see it and come home. (That says quirky to you, too, right?) What I didn’t expect, however–but probably should have, in a general sort of way–was the focus on Raymie’s soul and its ever-shifting size, the odd evolution of the pet situation, and the surprisingly satisfying ending after a very wandering sort of plot. For those familiar with DiCamillo’s work–apart from Because of Winn-Dixie, which was delightful and beautiful in a very not-weird sort of way–it should come as no surprise that I’m unable to give you much more than that. At the end of the day, though, Raymie and her friends are characters worth knowing, so what can I say? You might as well embrace the weird.

Apparently the spin-off “Baby-sitters Little Sister” series existed in regular book form years ago, but I was unaware. I came across its graphic novel incarnation while looking for info on the next BSC graphic novel, however, and I’ve had it on hold ever since; it finally came in a week or two ago–AND I finally finished it today. (I say finally partly because I’ve been trying to push through it and so I’ve tried to read a bit in the mornings, only I keep falling asleep.) Karen’s Witch is likely to appeal a bit more to the younger fans of the BSC series; Karen herself is only 7. Then again, the reader catches glimpses of the story from Kristy’s viewpoint as well, so who knows? Maybe they’ll all like it! What I know is that I never had the kind of imagination that created witches out of my neighbors and convinced me that I was the only one who knew something and therefore had to save the world; on the other hand, that kind of imagination makes for quite the story. This is going to best appeal to its intended audience, but it was still kind of amusing for me–and I’m sure that my 10-year-old, at least, is going to LOVE it.

1. At the dentist’s office on Monday the radio station played–in a row–“I Saw the Sign,” “Complicated,” and “Billy Jean.” When I mentioned to the hygienist that Ace of Bass brought me back to high school, she responded with “yeah, that’s an old one!” I’m not sure how I feel about this.

2. I told my second girlie to close the blinds closest to the door this evening. Five minutes later I re-entered the room and reminded her (in an impatient voice, I admit) of what I’d told her to do. “I did it!” “No you didn’t–they’re still open!” “I thought you said the ones closest to me!” “THEY WERE ALREADY CLOSED!!!” A late night finishing her history fair project coupled with early play practice is making for a difficult week.

3. At the dinner table, AFTER this second girlie had established beyond all reasonable doubt that she was on the ragged edge, her older sister opted to talk about what she’d learned in Utah Studies today. I’m all about this sort of sharing, normally, but she learned about how the Paiutes hunted rabbits and using their furs. We have bunnies. This was completely guaranteed to upset her sister on a NORMAL day.

4. She also felt the need to remind us all of what she learned in science about how you can tell that yogurt might be bad–while we were eating yogurt.

5. I left to help with a youth activity shortly afterwards. You know those days when you’re practically sprinting toward the door…

6. At 9:54 my ragged edge girlie came up to tell me that she couldn’t sleep. Part of the problem appeared to be a scary dream she couldn’t shake, so I gave her something silly to think about instead–but she has play practice again tomorrow morning.

7. Pray for us all.

Seriously, folks–we got slammed. And even though our school district stuck to its two hour delay instead of relenting and cancelling altogether (like most of the school districts affected), it also explicitly stated that if you didn’t feel like you could safely get your children to school, you shouldn’t send them. And given how long it took for the plows to come, and how appalling the weather and traffic news was, and how unlikely it was going to be to get safely out of my driveway before I shoveled…yeah, we stayed home. (Until 3, when we had dentist appointments. But the plows had come and I had finished shoveling by then.) There was hot chocolate, there was Play Doh, and there was soup and rolls for dinner. Not a bad day, really.

Anyway. On the other end of the weather spectrum there is Carl Hiaasen’s Skink–No Surrender, which I finished listening to on Saturday night. Hiaasen loves to write about Florida in all of its sweltering, steamy glory, and this foray into YF, instead of intermediate or adult fiction, is no exception. It involves a teenage boy’s search for his cousin (a rebel who runs off with a guy she meets online), various sorts of wildlife, and an impressive array of questionable choices–not to mention one legendary ex-governor. (Skink apparently shows up first in several of Hiaasen’s adult works, but I believe he also makes an appearance in Scat.) His presence adds a fabulous degree of unpredictability and laconic understatement to a story already teeming with captivating bits, making this book another wild ride from a man who never fails to entertain. I was worried about what content made it YF rather than JF, but after reading it I have no problem passing it on to my 13-year-old. Hiaasen manages to convey the horrendous consequences that can stem from trusting someone you meet online when you’re young and reckless WITHOUT getting overly graphic, and that’s actually impressive. Bottom line? This is one heck of a ride that’s just fine for early teens. Bon voyage!