Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

Seriously, though. My hubby’s work does Lagoon Day every year–Lagoon being Utah’s amusement park–and it’s an impressively good deal, especially since it comes with a lunch; unfortunately, instead of being in June, when it usually is, it was this past Saturday.

My birthday.

Have I mentioned that I don’t love Lagoon? I hate heat and sun more with each passing year, and my feet hate standing in line. The kiddos love it, though, and some of their favorite cousins have season passes, so to Lagoon we went, with a few friends in tow to add to the cousin mix. Luckily, my sister-in-law offered to stay with the older kids after my youngest was done, and so I escaped the heat a little early–bless her, bless her, bless her. I had my birthday cake the next day, and all was well.
Having been out in the heat for hours, however, my brain was too fried (melted? baked? broiled?) to post, and so here I am on the 19th instead. Sorry not sorry?

Anyway. This month one of the book clubs I’m in read Randy Pausch’s The Last Lecture, and I have to say, I really enjoyed it. I was expecting something more self help-y; instead, it’s more of a memoir with leanings toward being business-y. Pausch had interesting things to say and didn’t take three times the pages to say them in than was necessary, which I sincerely appreciated. I found it interesting as a parent, a wife, an erstwhile student, and a human being, and I’d recommend it to any or all of the same.

And apparently that’s all I have to say about that. Have a good night all!

I’ve written about Kate DiCamillo and her different kinds of books before–how she’s always a beautiful writer, but her books can trend either toward a fabulous story or an odd philosophical flight, at least in my opinion. After reading Raymie Nightingale and Louisiana’s Way Home, the two books preceding Beverly, Right Here, I was excited to read Beverly; I particularly loved Louisiana’s Way Home, and I was hoping for another story in the same vein. I was worried, then, when Beverly seemed to be trending towards the philosophical end of the spectrum. As the book progressed, however, the story stepped more fully into the spotlight, and I laughed out loud more than once during the last quarter of it. (I need to talk with someone else who’s just read it, so I can quote “Is that a whiffle bat?” and giggle.) There is pain here–DiCamillo doesn’t shy away from writing about pain–but it’s balanced nicely by a few truly lovable characters (and at least one that’s delightfully unlovable.) Beverly’s journey is a different one from Raymie’s and Lousiana’s–she’s coming from a different place, after all–but it’s possibly even more moving. If you’re ambivalent at first, stick with Beverly.

I promise you’ll love the ending.

I finished reading Gloria Whelan’s Burying the Sun aloud to my second girlie last night, and I’m STILL blown away by how little I knew about the siege of Leningrad before this month. How could I not know the basic facts? I’ve been fascinated by WWII history for decades–how could there be such a huge gap in my knowledge? I found myself almost pitying Josef Stalin, and that’s saying something. (Not to mention that the German attitude toward the siege makes Hitler looks even worse, and I wasn’t aware THAT was even possible.)

Anyway.

For those of you who share my (until now) ignorance, the siege of Leningrad was BAD. (Google it–your heart will break for the Russians.) Gloria Whelan, however, does a solid job of writing about it for middle grade readers, and those who have read The Impossible Journey will be pleased to see Georgi get his own book. I might have balked at reading this one to my second child had I known more of the history–she doesn’t like books about war OR sad books–but she was undeniably hooked, and she laughed out loud more than once during the bits of comic relief. (The scene with Georgi and the manure particularly!) This is a piece of history that our children ought to know, especially in regard to our sometimes difficult relationship with Russia. Props to Gloria Whelan for daring to set a piece of juvenile fiction amid such tragedy.

I did miss Friday, I know, but I drove up to Clinton to see my niece compete in the last, live round of Clinton City’s “The Voice”, and she won for her age group! She was fantastic, too. And tonight, rather than review the two books I was thinking of reviewing earlier, I’ve promised to review Twins, by Varian Johnson and Shannon Wright. (Because when my almost-12-year-old sees me reading a graphic novel that I’m going to pass on to her, I get no peace until I get on with the passing on.) I finished it 10 minutes ago (or so), and I have to say–I really enjoyed it. The sibling relationship felt authentic–not surprising, given Johnson is a twin himself–and the plot was the “figuring out middle school and all of its changes” kind with a twin twist. To be honest, I’m not sure you can ever have enough of those if they’re done well–kids need to be able to find a few that speak to them and help them through it, and the more there are to choose from, the better their options are. I’m expecting my second girlie to love this one, and my first girlie, while she’s older than the target audience, to still enjoy it. Off to them it goes–and off to the shower I go. Goodnight all!

Clearly I missed a couple of days.

The cool thing, though, was what I didn’t miss, so here goes! I brought the kiddos up to Clearfield by dinnertime on Friday the 2nd; my sister-in-law and her two boys arrived after dinner, and we commenced with games and more games and–after my youngest was in bed, poor lamb–Nielsen’s Frozen Custard. The next morning my youngest two children woke up cruelly early, but on the other hand, I needed to get up to make my son’s birthday breakfast regardless. After eating we got ready and headed for Clearfield’s 4th of July (on the 3rd) parade, which I would have skipped (I HATE THE SUN!!) except that two nieces and a nephew from two different families were in it, plus a brother-in-law, who plays in his city band. My husband came up before lunchtime, and then I went shopping with my older girls and a sister-in-law and then my mother-in-law took my son birthday shopping–and then there was a BBQ.

Plus birthday cake, of course. Angel food cake with strawberries and whipped cream…

From there my older girls went off with a cousin to a concert and fireworks, and my hubby took my son to fireworks with family, and I stayed with my sleeping youngest and did the things I needed to do. The next morning was a little rough–my in-laws have church at 9 versus our 10:30–but we managed, and we had a nice day with family plus an early dinner and more birthday cake. (For my mother-in-law and me, this time.) We were originally planning on our whole family going home Sunday evening, but my band-brother-in-law was performing at 7:30 and another niece was in the next morning’s parade, not to mention another brother-in-law and a nephew’s barbershop group was singing at a flag ceremony before the parade started. My hubby ended up taking the littles home (they needed sleep desperately!) while I stayed another night and went to hear the barbershop group in the morning. (I let my older girls do the parade without me. Aunt fail.) That was the 5th, of course, and I was way more worried about getting people to BED than posting, not to mention that we hit Cherry Hill water park yesterday (after I picked up our library holds.) It’s been quite the weekend–busy, but family really is the best. Hence, I missed some days–and now I’m too tired for a book review. I’ll just have to catch you on Friday!

Once again, I’ve finished a nonfiction graphic novel and am perversely annoyed at that term. Does anybody out there know a better one? Because a “novel”, by definition, is fiction, and yet…

Anyway.

However frustrating it may be to classify, Astronauts: Women on the Final Frontier is a fascinating read. I knew very little about the topic going in (other than Judith Resnick’s name, because she was on the Challenger and I read that Erin Entrada Kelly book relatively recently), which meant that the entire book transported me to a different time and place–which is, of course, what a good book should do. Everyone really ought to read this piece of history.

Like Forrest Gump, that’s all I have to say about that. In other news, yesterday was an incredibly long day–it started at 4:45 am with my 2nd girlie’s first time going to one of our temples, continued for me with a funeral, and ended with an hour of water aerobics–and I haven’t yet recovered enough sleep to blog more than the facts with any coherency. Have a lovely day!