Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

That is, in fact, the premise of Sparks!, a graphic novel that should appeal to just about every elementary schooler who likes graphic novels and/or crazy adventures. Add in an ambitious reporter, an evil baby trying to take over the planet by mind controlling all of the animals, and a PTSD-level fear of grass–and that’s pretty much all you need to know. Enjoy!

I finished reading Breaking Cat News: Cats Reporting on the News That Matters to Cats last night, and I did rather enjoy it. I probably would have enjoyed it more if my own cat owner experiences had been with inside cats as well, but still–it was fun. My one beef–and the reason I’m just returning it, instead of passing it along to my children–is the use of the Lord’s name in vain. I know that many, many wonderful people do it without thinking, but it pains me to hear it or read it, and I don’t need my kids becoming comfortable with it in casual conversation. If it weren’t for that, I’d have passed in on without hesitating. As it is, the substance of it was quite fun–but back to the library it goes.

Not all children’s books age well, as I’m sure you know; Robert McCloskey’s Centerburg Tales, however, is an excellent example of one that’s managed it. When I discovered that it was a companion to (continuation of?) Homer Price, I decided to read it aloud to my children as well, and while the length of some of the stories made pacing our reading sessions slightly problematic, it was still a hit. (The last story was especially entertaining out loud, but I truly enjoyed the whole book.) Imagine a slyly humorous slice of small town Americana with a dash of tall tale mixed in, with something of the wholesome fun of an early Doris Day film but for a younger audience (and an especial appeal for boys).

I’m currently imagining the two books together as a belated Father’s Day present…

I was out later in the afternoon than I expected to be today, and I was worried about getting dinner on the table when I got home; I had chicken thawing and was more or less committed to a dinner plan, but I hate to be rushed when I’m making a recipe for the first time. (Okay, I hate to be rushed at ANY time, but some times are definitely worse than others.) I managed, however, to get this Chicken Cordon Bleu Skillet on the table in less than an hour, and given that I made a homemade cream-of-whatever soup substitute, I’m calling that a serious win. And folks–it was tasty. Not necessarily I’d-pay-a-fortune-for-this-in-a-restaurant tasty, but definitely this-was-easy-and-totally-enjoyable-to-eat tasty, and who doesn’t love that? The homemade soup was my only substitution–oh, unless you count penne for egg noodles, because I don’t particularly like egg noodles–and besides salting as well as peppering the chicken (because seriously), I pretty much just followed the recipe. The next time you need a quick meal and you’ve got chicken, ham, and Swiss cheese, this is the meal for you; two out of my four kiddos gave it two thumbs up. Enjoy!

I finished listening to Rob Buyea’s The Perfect Secret today, and I actually liked it even better than its predecessor (that would be The Perfect Score). It had me pretty much from the get-go, and its plot progression was nicely balanced; I enjoyed each part of it instead of wishing some parts away to get to others, which doesn’t always happen. So good! It has its flaws, certainly–Trevor’s transformation is somewhat incredible, and the relationship between Randi and Jane seems also a bit too suddenly changed–but they’re feel-good flaws, and at least there are difficulties to balance them out. Think of Gary D. Schmidt’s Okay for Now—The Perfect Secret isn’t quite as good, because NOBODY’S quite as good at what he does as Gary D. Schmidt, but it’s quite good and it’s something of the same vibe. Add to that the rotating narrators–which make it more of a gender neutral read than many–and middle grade kids really shouldn’t miss this one.

Fans of Mary Balogh ought to enjoy the title of this post, given that the book in question is a book about marriage. The Marriage Bureau: The True Story of How Two Matchmakers Arranged Love in Wartime London IS slightly surreal, however–make no mistake about that. From the strange happenings to the occasional incredible coincidence, this story of a matchmaking service is both fascinating and homey, satisfying and bizarre. I won’t bother with a more detailed description, since the book is exactly what the subtitle says it is, but if you have any interest in the social history of World War II, in the reality of individual lives in London during a period of constant turmoil, this is the book for you. It’s on the episodic side, lending itself to reading smaller amounts at a time, but it’s pretty much ALWAYS interesting.

(It’s also overdue at the library and I’m going today, which is why I resumed reviews on an even day of the month. We’ll see if I manage a review tomorrow…)

I finished The Terrible Two’s Last Laugh the other day, and I have to say, it’s sad to see it over. A series that’s going to appeal to excellent readers and struggling readers alike is a rare find, and one that will make you chuckle is an added bonus. Don’t miss Miles and Niles’ last year at Yawnee Valley Science and Letters Academy! (Be warned, though–there’s a definite bitter-sweetness to the ending.)

On a different note, I’m taking some time off for the next week or two so I can spend time with family. Look for me mid-month!

It’s later than I planned, because my hubby and I started a puzzle together, but I wanted to review Charlie Mackesy’s The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse so that it can go back to the library tomorrow. (I have a curbside pickup scheduled, so I’ll be there, and there were 90-odd holds on this one last I checked, so it seems the courteous thing to do.) It’s an incredibly quick read–much more art than text–and a beautiful one; it also went over well with my two older girls, which I didn’t quite expect. It’s almost more a collection of pithy insights into life than a book, and the art is all over the spectrum–some of it is barely sketched while other pages look finished, if you know what I mean. I thought it was a beautiful book, but I also weighed the words more than the illustrations, because I always focus on words (if there are any). The art does have a surprisingly compelling quality, however, given the the nature of it. To be truly accurate, the book itself is art–the text and illustrations together create a work of art that is more than the sum of its parts. Pick this one up from your local bookstore and give it a read; when you’re done, decide whether you want to keep it or give it away, and act accordingly. Either way, it will be worth it.

Today I finished listening to Bat and the End of Everything, and while it didn’t go quite where I thought it was going, the ending was surprisingly satisfying. The title felt ominous, and I was preparing myself for heartstring tugs, but I actually found End of Everything to be a warmer and fuzzier read than its immediate predecessor. Bat does have changes to face, but the way his family rallies around him helps; one of his challenges even nudges him into a new friendship. I was actually worried about the ending seeming unrealistic, but it ended differently than I expected–and the ending worked. Between learning about animals and gaining insight into a brain that works differently, I’ve really enjoyed the experience of Elana Arnold’s Bat books.