Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

Seriously, though. It’s taken me an embarrassingly long time to review Lu, the fourth (and final?) book in Reynolds’ “Track” series, but I’m pretty sure it was my favorite of them all. (I say pretty sure because I can’t SWEAR I loved it more than Ghost.) Lu’s baby-sister-to-be and his re-focusing of his relationship with his father make for a story with substance and heart, while the tales of his mother’s fruit business cracked me up; I loved every thread of Lu‘s plot.* If you have a middle grader, you should be reading this series.

It’s as simple as that.

*Okay, so I wouldn’t have chosen the ending–it still worked.

I just finished Johan Troianowski’s (that middle “i” is supposed to have two dots, by the way) The Runaway Princess, and YOWSERS. I suppose you could say that it’s rather like Alice in Wonderland, if Alice in Wonderland was a graphic novel and more of an actual children’s story (about a girl who truly ENJOYS adventures) with a happier vibe instead of a (now dated) political satire written by a likely pedophile. Or maybe Peter Pan, or The Nutcracker–or Pippi Longstocking. I guess if you mixed all of those up together you might get The Runaway Princess, with Robin as a completely likable heroine who gathers friends and followers as she goes. It’s occasionally interactive–like certain picture books in the last ten or fifteen years–and definitely episodic. Fans of graphic novels and quirky adventures should definitely give this one a try; I’ll try to remember to comment with my girlies’ opinions once they’ve read it!

First of all, I missed the 23rd because it was the first school night we’ve had since mid-March, and I had other things on my mind. (So much weirdness in 2020!) Secondly, I finished listening to An Elderly Lady Is Up to No Good yesterday, and it can go straight into the library book drop on my way to Costco this morning if I review it now, so…

Eh. That really is how I felt about this one, and I wanted to really enjoy it. Maud’s complete ammorality, however, was a bit of a turnoff. (Is “ammorality” a word? Essentially, by the end of the book I felt she was a likely sociopath.) Being a nasty sort of person doesn’t mean that someone DESERVES to die, and anyway, I’m with Hercule Poirot–I don’t approve of murder. (If you haven’t read Agatha Christie, the idea is that yes, some people DO deserve to die, but murder isn’t good for the murderer. You get to thinking that YOU get to decide whether a person deserves to live or die, and that never ends well.) Perhaps if I preferred harder crime novels to cozies, I might have enjoyed this more, but Maud isn’t particularly sympathetic. (She’s also not a cohesive or believable character for me, but that’s an entirely different issue.) Tursten’s writing–or rather, the translation thereof–is amusing, and I did enjoy a specific bit here and there, but as a whole, the book failed to resonate with me. Its best audience is probably a mystery reader who most enjoys the planning and execution of the crime over fuller insight into its characters; if that’s you, it might be a nice little read.*

*One last thing–the last story is sort of told twice, from differing points of view, and I didn’t appreciate what that did to the pacing when none of the rest of the stories were. Do with that as you will.

Sorry, folks–my parents came into town today AND the Mickey Mouse photomosaic puzzle sucked me in…even if I had to borrow my neighbor’s magnifier. (I’m officially getting old.) More next time!

Time, that is, to review the book that I finished listening to on the 15th. Megan Whalen Turner’s The Thief is a Newbery Honor book that I’ve been not choosing for years now, because it’s not really my thing; this summer’s Goodreads Library challenge, however, is for fantasy, and since The Thief qualifies, here we are.

So. Still not my thing, but the blasted book’s denouement sucked me in so far that I’m contemplating the sequels. This is the story of a thief recruited to help steal a divinely gifted stone that will cement the power of the monarch who possesses it. Plucked out of prison by the king’s advisor, Gen travels with the Magus, his apprentices, and a soldier named Pol across rivers and mountains and into a maze from which he refuses to return without the object of his quest. The dynamics of the group kept me interested through a journey across a medieval-ish (they have guns), Greek-ish world, and the conclusion was so much more satisfying than I’d anticipated. The Thief is well worth your time, but be warned–the level of description and the importance of small details made this a less-than-ideal audio experience. You’ll want the hard copy for this one.

Two days ago, I confess, I opted to finish listening to my audiobook rather than review anything; today was my second girlie’s birthday, and I’ve spent some serious time in the kitchen! I’m taking my tired self off to the shower, therefore, because the closest my new 11-year-old gets to her teenage years, the more exhausted I’m likely to get…

So. I know I’ve missed TWO posts, but I had an “I want to claw my eyes out” day, followed by an “I can’t stop sneezing and my nose is LITERALLY dripping” day, followed by a WHY IS MY ENTIRE HEAD A BOWLING BALL??? day, which is when I started drugging myself. Allergy medicine at night, a decongestant plus other helpful things during the day…also there was nasal spray. And while I certainly wasn’t incapable of writing, I really wasn’t at my best–hence the two missed posts.

Anyway! Today I took my kiddos to a water park up in Davis County and we met cousins (and one of my sisters-in-law); it was modestly sized but fun, and all of them had a blast. I did spend literally hours in the sun, however, and I managed to burn a spot on one of my legs AGAIN (I appear to have problems applying sunscreen evenly).

Sigh.

BUT–I finished listening to Mr. Terupt Falls Again last night, and not only did I very much enjoy it, but I can also pass it along to my eager-beaver almost-11-year-old, who practically salivated over it when she saw it sitting by my keyboard this morning. As far as plot goes, we have more individual glimpses into the lives of our narrators, serving as an excellent reminder that every kid, every student, every PERSON we meet has far more going on in his or her life than we generally pause to think about. We also learn more of Mr. Terupt’s story, ending the novel in a MOST satisfying way. Here are my two thoughts in a nutshell:

1. This is straight-up teacher porn. Every good teacher who has ever stood in front of a classroom dreams of teaching and reaching his/her students in the best possible ways, with lessons and projects that ALWAYS engage the class (AND make a lasting impression!). Rob Buyea taught for years, and I imagine there’s a Jane Eyrequality to his books–Jane Eyre being, in my not-terrifically-humble opinion, the daydream of how Charlotte Bronte would have liked her life to be. (I wrote a paper in college to that effect, if you’re interested; it’s a scintillating read.) Buyea’s school stories are inspiring–but too consistently inspiring to be truly realistic.

2. I don’t care. I love stories about growth and healing and ALL THE FEELS, and with all of the madness surrounding whatever back to school looks like for each of us right now, reading about kids learning and growing and sticking together and figuring out life is a perfect example of one of my mental happy places.

So. I totally recommend it, unless you’re Scrooge-y about that sort of thing. (And honestly, it’s okay if you are. We all have certain things that we’re Scrooge-y about.) Read the first one, read this one, and in a few weeks, I’ll probably tell you to read the third and fourth ones–I just haven’t gotten there yet!

I honestly can’t remember how Locally Laid: How We Built a Plucky, Industry-changing Egg Farm–from Scratch made it onto my radar; I finished it tonight, however, and it was surprisingly engrossing. Of course, on the one hand I kept thinking that OF COURSE it was incredibly hard, back-breaking work, because FARMING, but on the other hand, I learned some interesting facts, history, and theories about agriculture in our country.

(Also about chickens. Did you know that chickens produce the same amount of shell material for every egg, no matter the size? That explains why smaller eggs from neighbors’ chickens have always seemed to have surprising thick shells. But I digress…)

I can’t promise that I’m going to start shopping differently after reading Lucie Amundsen’s arguments for pasture-raised eggs AND for middle agriculture, but I’m not saying that I won’t, either. I appreciated her grounded approach and her express acceptance of some of the more difficult realities of farming AND life. If you enjoy memoirs, underdog stories, or books about anything agricultural, I’d definitely give this one a try!

I finished Lupin Leaps In: A Breaking Cat News Adventure the other night, and it didn’t seem to have the same issue its predecessor did with taking the Lord’s name in vain. Overall, it was really pretty fun (except for the page or two about rainbows everywhere, which felt awkward and a bit out of place); I just can’t relate personally to a good many of the situations portrayed. I’m totally a cat person, but cats in my living space…no. I got a kick out of it, though, and I imagine that those with indoor cats would find it absolutely hysterical.

In the meantime, I’ve scheduled an in-person library pickup and it’s about time for me to leave. I haven’t been inside the library since March, so it’s going to be a bit eerie…

So…it’s been a bit. Last Wednesday we had a joint YW/YM activity and a brief youth leader meeting afterward; by the time I got home my “heading to bed eventually” routine sucked me in. On Friday I decided that since it’d been a crazy busy day I wouldn’t do back-to-back reviews on the 31st and 1st; on Saturday my son was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints. We could only have 20 people in the building for the actual event, which was certainly a different experience, but while Covid can change a lot of things superficially, the most important things remain the same. Family members who couldn’t fit waited and celebrated with us afterward, and the church leaders appointed to represent their organizations knew and cared about my son. There was so much love to go around.

Now–if you know me at all, you know that while I know HOW to be a diligent housekeeper, my execution struggles, and so you already know that our family spent several days before the baptism cleaning and organizing (and sweating, because heat wave). I listened to Marissa Meyer’s Scarlet during much of that, finishing it on Friday with no mean sense of accomplishment. Sci-Fi and dystopian are two of my least favorite genres; I read Cinder because it was a book club pick and liked it because I love a good fairy tale retelling, especially one with such an incredibly creative premise. I borrowed Scarlet from Britt shortly afterwards, but I’ve been putting it off because a)not my thing, b)stage of life, and c)memories of its predecessor were growing decidedly faint. My oldest wanted to read the series, however, and the books’ availability on audio saved me. I listened to Cinder at double speed so that I wouldn’t be completely lost with the sequels, and when Scarlet came in I put Cress on hold so I could move right along. (Last I checked it said I still have a 5 week wait, but it doesn’t often take the full time.) On Friday night, then, I finished listening to Scarlet.

Hmmm.

It’s worth mentioning that while “Cinderella” is one of my favorite fairy tales, I can take or leave “Little Red Riding Hood.” That said, Meyer’s retelling was (again) incredibly creative, and while it took me a bit longer to get sucked into Scarlet, I did get sucked in. It’s rather darker than its predecessor, with a different level and variety of passionate intensity, but the ending was just as nail-biting (I’m making that word work here)–and almost as cruel of a cliffhanger. Having finished Scarlet, I’m glad Britt cautioned me against letting my almost-11-year-old start the series–it’s definitely shaping up to be a teen read–but I’m guessing my 13-and-a-half-year-old will be riveted.*

*By the by, I did quite enjoy the Hans Solo character.