Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

It’s hard to imagine a better book to review on Veterans Day–nee Armistice Day–than Gordon Korman’s War Stories. In my experience, Korman has a tendency to be a bit larger-than-life; the books of his that I’ve read are frequently wildly improbable but satisfying. This newest offering, however, is understated (for Korman). The stories of Trevor in 2020 and his great grandfather in 1944 make for a fascinating look at D-Day and the Normandy invasion, and I learned all sorts of things I didn’t know. Korman’s message about war, about World War II, and about the soldiers who fought in it was a powerful one, and I choked up at the image of the few old soldiers left alive to commemorate the 75th anniversary of VE Day. This is an excellent book for middle grade readers–especially boys.*

*The obvious flaw, of course, is that it came out this summer and takes place in 2020 but treats 2020 as if it were no different than 2019. I assume it was completed and in the midst of the publishing process before things went completely nuts, but there’s a dark sort of humor in reading about people flying to Europe and traveling to at least two countries in the latter half of the spring of 2020. Not so much…but on the other hand, subsequent editions can’t just change the year, because 2020 IS the 75th anniversary of VE Day. Unfortunate, right? Still–eh. I can live with it, partly because it’s just incredibly bad luck on Korman’s part, and partly because it would be nice to live in a world where 2020 wasn’t much different than 2019. Am I right?

On November 1st my Uncle Brent left his wasted body on this earth and graduated to the next stop on his journey to immortality. He was a smiling, loving, and truly kind man who embraced my widowed aunt’s family as his own; he also, it seems, was on a basketball team dubbed the “Mormon Yankees” during his mission to Australia in the 1950s. (They played the Australian Olympic Basketball Team–and won.) Today was his funeral, and it seems like the perfect day to review Scott Ellsworth’s The Secret Game: A Wartime Story of Courage, Change, and Basketball’s Lost Triumph.

Of course, if you know me you know that what I know about basketball might most charitably be characterized as “more than I know about football” and “far more than I know about soccer.” Ellworth’s book, however, tells a story that I doubt many fans know. It is at once the story of a single game between two incredible but largely forgotten teams and the story of the early years of what was then frequently segregated basketball. (Learning that North Carolina teams and schools were rigidly segregated in the 1940s did not surprise me. Learning that Kansas and Indiana teams and schools were often segregated as well, did.) It was the kind of book that had me “did you know-“ing to friends, family, and the young women I worth with at church; it was also the kind of book that had me thinking about racial injustice in this country and how we can build bridges of understanding in what ought to be our continual quest to eradicate it.

It’s the kind of book that would be helpful for more people to read right now.

(It’s also the kind of book that notes Uruguay’s attempt to disqualify players over 5’8″ in the first Olympics in which basketball was an official sport. You’ve got to admire the chutzpah.)

This is a book worth reading, friends–whoever you are. The story of North Carolina College for Negroes’ basketball team and the team from Duke Medical school (NOT Duke’s actual basketball team–the med students beat them) playing behind locked doors for safety a decade before the Civil Rights Movement got firmly off the ground is both a dramatic and an important one, one that ought to be known. If you’ve got $20 to spare, buy it. (Unless you’re my adult nephew in Florida, who really shouldn’t be buying such things less than two months before Christmas.) If not, look for it at your local library. Either way–enjoy.*

*If you enjoyed The Boys in the Boat, you should definitely not miss this. It’s even the same Olympics!

Have I mentioned that my second girlie has been asking for books similar to Rob Buyea’s Mr. Terupt series? Because we seriously just hit the jackpot. If you took Because of Mr. Terupt, added in just a tad of Gordon Korman’s The Unteachables, and finished it off with bits of Andrew Clements’ The Landry News and The Last Holiday Concert–oh, and added a graphic element plus one actual amphibian–you’d get Sarah Scheerger’s Operation Frog Effect, which is one of our school district’s “Best Books” for 3rd-4th graders this year. I actually thought Kayley’s character was more realistic than her sort-of-counterpart in Because of Mr. Terupt, and I enjoyed the rest of the characters; I rather think my 6th grader is going to LOVE this. It’s told from 8 different viewpoints–9, if you count the teacher–and is a feel-good teacher sort of book, which always gets me. Fans of the other titles listed above should definitely check this out!

Yesterday I commented on the Facebook message of a former coworker, an educated individual with whom I’d assumed I had a cordial relationship. This person had shared a friend’s post–a short essay, more or less, blasting Trump–and then endorsed the sentiments in it, adding that “if you voted for Trump, you should be ashamed of yourself.” This was followed up with the bald statement that “we are not friends.” I was troubled that a post specifically decrying Trump’s unwillingness to heal division in this country was accompanied by a message that seemed unavoidably divisive to me and commented to that effect. This individual disagreed, stating that it was a matter of standing up for beliefs. We traded comments once or twice more, over perhaps a two hour period at most (I was also making dinner), until I could suddenly no longer find the thread. Shortly thereafter, a search on Facebook no longer yielded the name of the individual in question; my assumption is that I have been blocked.

Here, friends, are MY beliefs. I don’t believe any good will come of demonizing those who choose differently than we do. I DO believe that there are valid reasons to vote for either of the candidates in this election of misery, and many of them are not hateful and represent valid concerns for the future direction of our country. (For the record, I also believe that MORE valid reasons exist NOT to vote for either candidate. I have yet to find ANYONE who isn’t at least somewhat appalled that this year’s choices are supposedly the best we can do.) I cannot imagine the Savior telling ANYONE that “we are not friends” (although I can easily imagine Him weeping at much of what is being said right now, on BOTH sides). I will accept the winner of this election because I live in a democratic republic and I voted knowing that if you ARE the minority, you’re often stuck with other people’s choices of pizza toppings on a group date. I will pray for the winner of this election because my church leaders have asked me to pray for greater civility, understanding, and wisdom for my country’s leaders, and I believe that to be sound and inspired direction. I will be friends with any individual in my life who is a friend to me. I believe that ultimately, people are more alike than they are different, and if we can find common ground, we can find a way forward. I believe that this can be hard–very, very hard at times–but that it is every bit as important as it is hard, and I believe that it can be done. I also believe that if we are going to make it happen, it must start individually, with each one of us.

I wish I had been able to express my beliefs fully to that individual. I sincerely hope that those still in my life do not find these beliefs to be blockworthy.

I hope and pray that our country can find its way to a better place–and I believe that it’s up to each of us to get there. May God bless us all.

My hubby and I filled out our ballots last night, folks, and I have never been so miserable during the process. (As my friend Andrea said, there was a lot of nose-holding as I voted.) On the other hand, I’m grateful to live in a country where I CAN vote, regularly and reliably, and I’m doubly grateful in this 100th year of women being able to participate as legal voters in this country. Still–it was miserable.

Fittingly, I also finished reading Bold & Brave: Ten Heroes Who Won Women the Right to Vote last night, and I enjoyed the body of the book. I learned things about women I was familiar with as well as learned about women that I wasn’t. My only complaint was the ending tie-in to the 2017 Women’s March; Women’s Suffrage was such a focused cause, even if the methods and participants were (sometimes defiantly) diverse, that comparing it to a demonstration without one specifically identifiable goal feels faulty. I did like the very end, where it talked about using your voice for what you believe in, and I rather wish that had been the immediate segue. Overall, however, there’s good information here, and I don’t think we spend enough time remembering and recognizing these particular heroes.

Good luck with your voting, friends, and let’s follow M. Russell Ballard’s counsel to pray for our country and our leaders, however and to whomever we choose. WHOEVER wins.

I’ve had Lucy Knisley’s Relish: My Life in the Kitchen checked out for a LONG time. I even started it a LONG time ago, but I got distracted and then other people had holds on it, and down it went on the “Currently Reading” list. I decided it was time to work on that “Currently Reading” list, however, and so–after re-starting it, since it had been so LONG–I made my way through and finished Relish this week. Here are my thoughts…

1. NOT a fan of the porn-magazines-in-Mexico section–adolescent boys learning to objectify women is never okay with me. (Porn is also completely contrary to my religious beliefs.) That said, it’s a memoir, and it happened.

2. I do enjoy the way Lucy Knisley writes about food.

3. I really wanted some sort of mention about WHY her parents broke up. I just wanted to KNOW.

4. I used to have a metabolism like that…before I hit 40. It was pretty great, I have to say.

5. Although it does come back to bite you in the form of unsustainable eating habits.

6. But I digress. The point is, I enjoyed it–and I want to make some of the recipes. (Others I’d prefer someone else to make for me, and a few involve ingredients I don’t eat/drink.)

7. I’m looking forward to her other memoirs for adults.

8. Definitely worthwhile for foodies!

In other news, after the warning bulletin about Covid numbers that came through on my phone yesterday, I think we’re going to buy each of our kiddos a candy or three of his/her choice and hunker down for games and a Halloween movie tonight. We’ll leave a bowl of candy on our front porch, but trick-or-treating doesn’t feel like the best idea this year. 2020…

That’s what my oldest daughter is, folks. Where her next youngest sister is loudly, persistently vocal when she’s waiting for me to pass on a book, my oldest is more patient. She is definitely NOT the squeaky wheel in the household, and that fact makes handing her something she’s been waiting for a true pleasure. Stars Above: A Lunar Chronicles Collection comes under that category, and I finished listening to it today (thanks in part to the cutting up of another pot of apples for more fruit leather base). A set of 9 short stories set in Cinder’s world, 8 of them involve main characters that we already know; the 9th is a retelling of Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Little Mermaid.” (NOT Disney’s retelling, by the way. Meyer’s version is a retelling of the original, which is a very important distinction.) Nothing earthshattering is revealed in these tales, but they do give us added perspective on many of Meyer’s characters, and they represent an enjoyable last hurrah for the series. Fans of Meyer’s Lunar world will definitely want to read this one.

In other news, to trick or treat or not to trick or treat? Because that is yet another one of 2020’s miserable, frustrating questions…

Please? Because I missed a week of posts there, and I don’t know that I have a great excuse. (Although it was fall break, and I guess having the kids home–plus occasional extras–may have contributed.) I don’t think I have the energy for a book review tonight, but I did try this Crock-Pot Sweet Kielbasa last week, and I have to say–all of my children scarfed it down. Even my oldest, who has a very strained relationship with smoked sausage after throwing up a Costco hot dog during two different flus, wanted seconds, and that’s nothing short of miraculous. I did have a good amount of extra sauce, but then, I likely used two 14-oz sausages instead of two pounds of it, so that was probably most of the issue. It was smoky and sweet and savory and tender and yummy, and I had to remind all of my offspring that we needed to save a full serving for Daddy, who wasn’t home from work yet. If you’re looking for a quick meal idea–or a meaty snack to bring to a party–look no further!

I got distracted and missed my post on Saturday because I was preparing for an overnight guest…who didn’t end up staying overnight. Ah, well. My food room/guest bedroom looks much neater than usual! Tonight, however, I am here and I am ready to review Louise Miller’s The City Baker’s Guide to Country Living. I’m not surprised my sister recommended this one–if Hallmark made a movie mashup of “While You Were Sleeping” and Anne of Green Gables–to be aired specifically on the Food Network–we’d probably end up with something like City Baker’s Guide. The food and the New England setting are definitely both characters in their own right (they deserve nothing less!), but the real story here is how someone alone in the world becomes part of a loving extended family. They might not be as humorous as Ox & Co.–“these mashed potatoes are so creamy!”–but on the other hand, they’re musical. (Also warm and accepting to an eyebrow-raising degree for a small Vermont town. Vermont is not an immediately-embracing-of-outsiders kind of state.) I feel like the main character’s flaws were pushed a tad aggressively at times, but overall, this was a feel-good novel that’s going to make you almost constantly hungry. (Did I mention that the author is a professional pastry chef?) It may also make a displaced New Englander desperately homesick, resulting in a number of impulse (maple-themed) purchases at Trader Joe’s, but hey–it’s a risk worth taking. (Because maple.) If you love food–or New England–or happy endings, this is definitely a book for you.

That pretty much sums up my day, folks. I took the clean-but-just-tossed-in-a-laundry-basket clothes from the first half of the week and created a laundry mountain on my bed; I even added 3 or 4 new loads to it over the course of the day. The first half of the afternoon, however, was spent at our new orthodontist’s office. He’s out of network but willing to give us an impressive discount despite our lack of orthodontic coverage, and so my oldest is now lisping (she has bumpers, which I never had) and trying to learn how to chew with braces on. Good times! (By the way, Dr. Pezza, if we lived in Rhode Island, I would have come to your practice without a moment’s pause. Do your hands still smell like Dial soap?)

Anyway. Clean sheets are on my bed and Laundry Mountain has been reduced to what will fit in one (larger) laundry basket; all I have left between me and the shower is a review of Jessica Kim’s Stand Up, Yumi Chung!, which is totally worth your time. Funny-but-poignant middle grade fiction is always a win for me, and Kim’s debut novel is a lovely example of it. Yumi Chung has a genius older sister, strict, restaurant-running immigrant parents, and a wholehearted love of comedy. An unexpected chain of events finds her leading a bit of a double life, which eventually comes crashing to pieces around her; that isn’t the end of the person Yumi was hoping to become, however, and watching her use those pieces to create a successful mosaic of her truest self is a joy. Kids should relate; parents will appreciate. Give this one a try!