And here she is attending zoom church. She much prefers the music to the preaching.
Sent from my U.S.Cellular© Smartphone
Monday, February 28, 2022
The Bright Lands
The Bright Lands
Adult horror
"i can't quit football. i just fucking can't but i can't keep
playing neither. if i don't play i don't get no college cause who's
gonna pay for it? mom? and if i don't got no college i'm fucking
stuck here and if i stay here i'll go crazy bro--i can't sleep i can't
eat can't go to the bright lands it's not the same so far i can't with
this fucking place."
If Stephen King wrote a football novel it would be something
like John Fram's The Badlands.
In the small town of Bentley, Texas football reigns supreme.
The Bisons are probably worshipped more than any official deity.
Every business in town closes for their games. The players considered
most valuable can get away with stuff like drug dealing that would put
most people behind bars. There are rumors of a place, The Bright
Lands, where the team goes after Friday night games.
Residents have very bad dreams.
Joel Whitley is persona non grata in his home town. He fled to
New York City ten years earlier after ugly incidents outed him as gay
to his horrified conservative community. He's lost touch with people
there, even little brother, Dylan, the football team's current golden
boy. An alarming text from Dylan sends him flying back to the place
he never wanted to see again.
Starsha Clark had a brother who disappeared and a mother who
discussed what she wrote off as crazy visions. She left town for a
few years. Now she's back as a sheriff's deputy.
When Dylan vanishes and his corpse is discovered they must
partner up to discover who brutally murdered him. But the crime may
go way beyond corrupt cops and townspeople willing to look the other
way to ensure a winning season.
Maybe Clark's mom wasn't imagining things.
Maybe a being of primordial evil is being aroused from slumber.
Maybe it's thirsty and not for water.
On a purrrsonal note, I had a lovely weekend which was started off by
another Friday snow day. The second in six weeks! When I woke up I
didn't see why UMaine had cancelled. We were only expecting three to
six inches. I was already on campus when I saw the first flakes.
Work was really easy and fun. A lot of people didn't come in to eat.
And those who did were in a festive mood. It was like being paid to
party. When I punched out I understood the cancellation. The three
to six inches were gusting down and around. Luckily I had a ride
home. Walking down Route 2 in really lousy visibility would have been
perilous. I saw so glad to be in my safe, warm home. (Jules).
And I was glad to have her home. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Madison, Caroline, and Emma with
whom I had a most delightful snow day breakfast.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult horror
"i can't quit football. i just fucking can't but i can't keep
playing neither. if i don't play i don't get no college cause who's
gonna pay for it? mom? and if i don't got no college i'm fucking
stuck here and if i stay here i'll go crazy bro--i can't sleep i can't
eat can't go to the bright lands it's not the same so far i can't with
this fucking place."
If Stephen King wrote a football novel it would be something
like John Fram's The Badlands.
In the small town of Bentley, Texas football reigns supreme.
The Bisons are probably worshipped more than any official deity.
Every business in town closes for their games. The players considered
most valuable can get away with stuff like drug dealing that would put
most people behind bars. There are rumors of a place, The Bright
Lands, where the team goes after Friday night games.
Residents have very bad dreams.
Joel Whitley is persona non grata in his home town. He fled to
New York City ten years earlier after ugly incidents outed him as gay
to his horrified conservative community. He's lost touch with people
there, even little brother, Dylan, the football team's current golden
boy. An alarming text from Dylan sends him flying back to the place
he never wanted to see again.
Starsha Clark had a brother who disappeared and a mother who
discussed what she wrote off as crazy visions. She left town for a
few years. Now she's back as a sheriff's deputy.
When Dylan vanishes and his corpse is discovered they must
partner up to discover who brutally murdered him. But the crime may
go way beyond corrupt cops and townspeople willing to look the other
way to ensure a winning season.
Maybe Clark's mom wasn't imagining things.
Maybe a being of primordial evil is being aroused from slumber.
Maybe it's thirsty and not for water.
On a purrrsonal note, I had a lovely weekend which was started off by
another Friday snow day. The second in six weeks! When I woke up I
didn't see why UMaine had cancelled. We were only expecting three to
six inches. I was already on campus when I saw the first flakes.
Work was really easy and fun. A lot of people didn't come in to eat.
And those who did were in a festive mood. It was like being paid to
party. When I punched out I understood the cancellation. The three
to six inches were gusting down and around. Luckily I had a ride
home. Walking down Route 2 in really lousy visibility would have been
perilous. I saw so glad to be in my safe, warm home. (Jules).
And I was glad to have her home. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Madison, Caroline, and Emma with
whom I had a most delightful snow day breakfast.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Sunday, February 27, 2022
The Stack
The Stack
Picture book
After our literary stops in Nazi Germany and 1921 Tulsa,
Oklahoma, I was ready for something more light hearted. Luckily I had
a copy of Vanessa Roeder's The Stack. It's a purrrfect read aloud for
families with young children.
Luna, Roeder's protagonist, like many of our kids is no fan of
the dark. Instead of asking her parents for a night light or
permission to crash with them, she comes up with a truly audicious
plan. She's going to snag one of the stars way up in the sky.
She starts with the usual: a chair, a stepping stool, books.
Then falling short, she adds more and more fanciful elements: an
elephant, a whale, a dragon, a pirate ship. Eventually she is able to
scale her stack and return with star safely in jar...
...and experiences an unexpected regret.
Our little kids come up with quite unusual plans and great
enthusiasm for carrying them out. Not all are possible or desirable.
I mean attaching a jet engine to a go cart. But with the ones that
could be brought to fruition without endangering humans and companion
animals, this book could be a springboard for breaking plans into
doable steps.
On a purrrsonal note: in the fourth year of my part time masters
program in higher education I'm with Luna on this. I can't tell you
how many times I've felt like I'm looking for the next element to add
to my stack to help bridge the gap between my present reality and my
goal. (Jules)
Hmmm, a toy that could produce cat treats whenever I wanted them.
(Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all stack builders, child and adult.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
After our literary stops in Nazi Germany and 1921 Tulsa,
Oklahoma, I was ready for something more light hearted. Luckily I had
a copy of Vanessa Roeder's The Stack. It's a purrrfect read aloud for
families with young children.
Luna, Roeder's protagonist, like many of our kids is no fan of
the dark. Instead of asking her parents for a night light or
permission to crash with them, she comes up with a truly audicious
plan. She's going to snag one of the stars way up in the sky.
She starts with the usual: a chair, a stepping stool, books.
Then falling short, she adds more and more fanciful elements: an
elephant, a whale, a dragon, a pirate ship. Eventually she is able to
scale her stack and return with star safely in jar...
...and experiences an unexpected regret.
Our little kids come up with quite unusual plans and great
enthusiasm for carrying them out. Not all are possible or desirable.
I mean attaching a jet engine to a go cart. But with the ones that
could be brought to fruition without endangering humans and companion
animals, this book could be a springboard for breaking plans into
doable steps.
On a purrrsonal note: in the fourth year of my part time masters
program in higher education I'm with Luna on this. I can't tell you
how many times I've felt like I'm looking for the next element to add
to my stack to help bridge the gap between my present reality and my
goal. (Jules)
Hmmm, a toy that could produce cat treats whenever I wanted them.
(Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all stack builders, child and adult.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Saturday, February 26, 2022
A Tulsa Twosome
A Tulsa Twosome
I think we can agree that the Nazi Germany portrayed in Maus
showed the terrible cruelty humans are capable of. Today we're
sticking to the theme, only bringing it closer to home. Tulsa,
Oklahoma to be exact. May 31, 1921 one of its districts, Greenwood,
also known as the Black Wall Street, was a thriving community of
homes, businesses, churches, schools--even a library. June 1, 1921 it
was smoke and ashes. The ruthlessness with which white citizens
killed innocent Black women, men, and children; looted homes and
stores; and burned them--even churches and library--is sickeningly
reminiscent of Kristalnacht.
Brandy Colbert's Black Birds In The Sky: The Story And Legacy Of
The 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre is targeted toward a YA audience. I
think it should also be considered a must read for most of our
nation's adult adults. The tragic event was very effectively covered
up and denied until relatively recently. And, as Colbert points out
in her afterward, the early 1920's were eerily similar to the times
we're living through now.
Colbert covers not only the events and the aftermath, but an
extensive historical back story. One of the questions she was driven
to answer was how could it have happened? She traces not only
Oklahoma's shameful history of dealings with Blacks and indigenous
peoples, but United States history from Reconstruction on. There are
candid looks at lynchings and earlier race riots. She also looks into
her other question: how was it covered up and denied for so long?
One reason is America's "Sure we made a few mistakes in the
past, but we're doing just fine" narrative that erases all the history
that contradicts it. This indoctrination starts with impressionable
children being immersed in whitewashed, whitecentric curriculums in
school.
And being denied banned books that would expose them to
inconvenient truths and contradictions of the dominant narrative. We
gotta fight for our kids' right to read them.
Each chapter starts poignantly with a black and white picture
accompanied by a survivor's narrative.
How about, "Mother remembers running down the street, six months
pregnant with me, dodging bullets that were dropping all around her.
She said that it was a miracle that she escaped alive and that I was
later allowed to come into this world."
This fine book belongs in all school and public libraries. And
we adults owe it to ourselves and the country we need to be changing
to read and ponder on it.
Jewell Parker Rhodes' Magic City is an older book (1997).
Although it's a work of adult fiction which paints a speculative
picture of the incident that was the catalyst behind the massacre, it
also gives some of the bitter backstory that allowed a spark to become
an inferno. And across more than two decades Colbert and Rhodes are
asking similar questions.
Rhodes learned of the massacre in 1983 through an article in
Parade Magazine.
"...How and why did blacks move to Oklahoma? Why did whites
have enough tolerance to allow the black community to establish
itself, but not enough tolerance to allow its success? How is it that
I'd never heard of the Tulsa Riot? Why was this history suppressed?..."
Joe is the black sheep member of a Greenwood elite family.
"...Property and wealth. Joe, the youngest son. Born a bit too
brown for his mother's taste; too lazy for his father's. But always,
in Greenwood, he was the banker's son."
With his older brother killed in the Great War and his sisters
women, the family expects Joe to carry on the family business. He has
no interest in doing so. He's a great fan of the escape artist
Houdini and plans to follow in his elusive footsteps. He works as a
shoeshine to earn the money to bankroll his first escape--from the
neighborhood he both loves and feels stifled in.
"Ma lay flat on the kitchen floor, hair fanning, arms grasping
her flattened belly, whispering to Mary. Whispering, 'Hush. Don't
scream. Don't blame Pa or the baby. It's God's will..."
Just turned seven, Mary was the only one there when her mother
gave birth to her baby brother and then bled to death. After that
she'd been in a masculine world. When she began menstruating her
father enlightened with gems including "You're body's meant for a
husband's use." and "Whores like doing it. Good women don't."
Much older now, Mary does heavy farm work and the domestic
chores related to caring for her father, her brother who returned from
the Great War missing a leg, and Dell, a farm hand her father recently
took on...and not just for his agricultural skills.
"'...Your Pa and me, we've already agreed.'
'What'd you agree.'
'You and me, Mary. Our kids will inherit the farm.'"
Dell rapes Mary, sure that her father will force her to marry
him right away. In fact as she's on her way out the door, heading to
her job as an elevator operater, her father, having learned that she's
"given" Dell "a husband's privileges," orders her not to come home
until she's ready to wed.
As you've probably guessed, Joe is Black. Mary is white. Joe
picks that day to take the elevator rather than the stairs to get to
the only bathroom Blacks are allowed to use which is located on the
fourteenth floor.
Men in the lobby are horrified and angered by the spectacle of a
Black man getting on the elevator. As it rises a woman's scream is
heard. By the time it returns to the ground floor the crowd is in
full vengeance mode.
I think this fine book would be great for book clubs. The human
drama gives it popular appeal while the back story makes it very
enlightening.
There are now a lot of good books out about the massacre. We've
gone a long way toward answering the questions Colbert and Rhodes have
posed. Maybe it's time to add another to the list. What are we
(whites) doing and covering up now that will horrify our descendents a
few generations from now?
It is my sad duty to announce the recent death of reknowned author,
artist, and educator Ashley Bryan at the age of 98. Born in Harlem
and growing up in challenging times, he was fully supported by his
parents in his career ambitions. One of the details of his life I
love the most is his use of his mother's embroidery and dressmaking
scissors in his collage making. He had a very illustrious career that
didn't stop after his official retirement. You can find all his
achievements on Google. What I want to talk about is his humanity.
He saw the dignity and worth in every person he encountered. When I
had the great good fortune to meet him at a book festival in Bangor he
was quite famous and I was a mother of three doing freelance book
reviewing. But while we talked he gave me the impression that I was
the most fascinating and promising person he could have been talking
to. Also he never lost the joy and curiosity most people feel they
have to give up as part of adulting. He created beautiful, unique
puppets out of found objects washed up on the beach.
He once said, wake up every morning and find the child in you.
If more people lived by those wise words we'd be in a much better place.
Ashley, you make me hope that what happens next is reincarnation.
This poor old world still needs your precious spirit.
Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
I think we can agree that the Nazi Germany portrayed in Maus
showed the terrible cruelty humans are capable of. Today we're
sticking to the theme, only bringing it closer to home. Tulsa,
Oklahoma to be exact. May 31, 1921 one of its districts, Greenwood,
also known as the Black Wall Street, was a thriving community of
homes, businesses, churches, schools--even a library. June 1, 1921 it
was smoke and ashes. The ruthlessness with which white citizens
killed innocent Black women, men, and children; looted homes and
stores; and burned them--even churches and library--is sickeningly
reminiscent of Kristalnacht.
Brandy Colbert's Black Birds In The Sky: The Story And Legacy Of
The 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre is targeted toward a YA audience. I
think it should also be considered a must read for most of our
nation's adult adults. The tragic event was very effectively covered
up and denied until relatively recently. And, as Colbert points out
in her afterward, the early 1920's were eerily similar to the times
we're living through now.
Colbert covers not only the events and the aftermath, but an
extensive historical back story. One of the questions she was driven
to answer was how could it have happened? She traces not only
Oklahoma's shameful history of dealings with Blacks and indigenous
peoples, but United States history from Reconstruction on. There are
candid looks at lynchings and earlier race riots. She also looks into
her other question: how was it covered up and denied for so long?
One reason is America's "Sure we made a few mistakes in the
past, but we're doing just fine" narrative that erases all the history
that contradicts it. This indoctrination starts with impressionable
children being immersed in whitewashed, whitecentric curriculums in
school.
And being denied banned books that would expose them to
inconvenient truths and contradictions of the dominant narrative. We
gotta fight for our kids' right to read them.
Each chapter starts poignantly with a black and white picture
accompanied by a survivor's narrative.
How about, "Mother remembers running down the street, six months
pregnant with me, dodging bullets that were dropping all around her.
She said that it was a miracle that she escaped alive and that I was
later allowed to come into this world."
This fine book belongs in all school and public libraries. And
we adults owe it to ourselves and the country we need to be changing
to read and ponder on it.
Jewell Parker Rhodes' Magic City is an older book (1997).
Although it's a work of adult fiction which paints a speculative
picture of the incident that was the catalyst behind the massacre, it
also gives some of the bitter backstory that allowed a spark to become
an inferno. And across more than two decades Colbert and Rhodes are
asking similar questions.
Rhodes learned of the massacre in 1983 through an article in
Parade Magazine.
"...How and why did blacks move to Oklahoma? Why did whites
have enough tolerance to allow the black community to establish
itself, but not enough tolerance to allow its success? How is it that
I'd never heard of the Tulsa Riot? Why was this history suppressed?..."
Joe is the black sheep member of a Greenwood elite family.
"...Property and wealth. Joe, the youngest son. Born a bit too
brown for his mother's taste; too lazy for his father's. But always,
in Greenwood, he was the banker's son."
With his older brother killed in the Great War and his sisters
women, the family expects Joe to carry on the family business. He has
no interest in doing so. He's a great fan of the escape artist
Houdini and plans to follow in his elusive footsteps. He works as a
shoeshine to earn the money to bankroll his first escape--from the
neighborhood he both loves and feels stifled in.
"Ma lay flat on the kitchen floor, hair fanning, arms grasping
her flattened belly, whispering to Mary. Whispering, 'Hush. Don't
scream. Don't blame Pa or the baby. It's God's will..."
Just turned seven, Mary was the only one there when her mother
gave birth to her baby brother and then bled to death. After that
she'd been in a masculine world. When she began menstruating her
father enlightened with gems including "You're body's meant for a
husband's use." and "Whores like doing it. Good women don't."
Much older now, Mary does heavy farm work and the domestic
chores related to caring for her father, her brother who returned from
the Great War missing a leg, and Dell, a farm hand her father recently
took on...and not just for his agricultural skills.
"'...Your Pa and me, we've already agreed.'
'What'd you agree.'
'You and me, Mary. Our kids will inherit the farm.'"
Dell rapes Mary, sure that her father will force her to marry
him right away. In fact as she's on her way out the door, heading to
her job as an elevator operater, her father, having learned that she's
"given" Dell "a husband's privileges," orders her not to come home
until she's ready to wed.
As you've probably guessed, Joe is Black. Mary is white. Joe
picks that day to take the elevator rather than the stairs to get to
the only bathroom Blacks are allowed to use which is located on the
fourteenth floor.
Men in the lobby are horrified and angered by the spectacle of a
Black man getting on the elevator. As it rises a woman's scream is
heard. By the time it returns to the ground floor the crowd is in
full vengeance mode.
I think this fine book would be great for book clubs. The human
drama gives it popular appeal while the back story makes it very
enlightening.
There are now a lot of good books out about the massacre. We've
gone a long way toward answering the questions Colbert and Rhodes have
posed. Maybe it's time to add another to the list. What are we
(whites) doing and covering up now that will horrify our descendents a
few generations from now?
It is my sad duty to announce the recent death of reknowned author,
artist, and educator Ashley Bryan at the age of 98. Born in Harlem
and growing up in challenging times, he was fully supported by his
parents in his career ambitions. One of the details of his life I
love the most is his use of his mother's embroidery and dressmaking
scissors in his collage making. He had a very illustrious career that
didn't stop after his official retirement. You can find all his
achievements on Google. What I want to talk about is his humanity.
He saw the dignity and worth in every person he encountered. When I
had the great good fortune to meet him at a book festival in Bangor he
was quite famous and I was a mother of three doing freelance book
reviewing. But while we talked he gave me the impression that I was
the most fascinating and promising person he could have been talking
to. Also he never lost the joy and curiosity most people feel they
have to give up as part of adulting. He created beautiful, unique
puppets out of found objects washed up on the beach.
He once said, wake up every morning and find the child in you.
If more people lived by those wise words we'd be in a much better place.
Ashley, you make me hope that what happens next is reincarnation.
This poor old world still needs your precious spirit.
Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Thursday, February 24, 2022
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Wednesday, February 23, 2022
Maus II: A Survivor's Tale
Maus II: A Survivor's Tale
The righteous right is at it again. The gang known for trying
to ban all books that expose evils of the past and present or espouse
inconvenient truths has found a new target. This month a school board
in Tennessee voted unanimously to keep Art Spiegelman's graphic novel
Maus out of its eighth grade curriculum. The book is the true story
of Spiegelman's parents' concentration camp survival during the Nazi
regime. The reason was swear words and nude figures.
So of course I had to read the book.
I read Maus II which combines A Survivor's Tale (the original
narrative) with And Here My Troubles Began which features adult
Spiegelman's troubled relationship with his father, Vladek. His
mother (Anja) had committed suicide decades after her rescue. Jewish
people are portrayed as mice, Nazis as vicious cats.
When I read A Survivor's Tale cuss words and gratuitous nudity
were not what impressed me. (They are actually quite mild compared to
what many teens access on the Internet.) It was the stark
heartbreaking cruelty, the inhumanity of a real historic tragedy that
many people now are pretending never happened. Imagine after having
your family split up, some to be gassed and cremated, existing where
you are grossly overworked, fed only scraps, housed under conditions
we wouldn't keep animals in, and constantly abused by those who
consider you subhuman. It would be impossible to not be moved by
Vladek's heroic efforts to keep his beloved Anja alive. The New York
Times calls this graphic novel "an epic story told in tiny pictures."
And Here My Troubles Began shows the traumas survivors continue
to experience decades after escaping from a manmade Hell on Earth.
There's Anja's suicide. And there's the alienation between the father
whose beliefs and behaviors were forged in a crucible and his raised
in America son.
Back to the banning of Maus in a time when people identify as
neoNazis and attacks against Jewish people are escalating. There is
some good news. News of the school committee censorship caused the
book to shoot to the top of bestseller lists. Thankfully not everyone
is eager to forget.
Could you do me a favor? Read and promote a banned book. There
are so many you'll have no trouble finding one that speaks to you.
Ignorance is not bliss. We must do all in our power to combat it.
On a purrrsonal note, instead of one fifteen week class I'm taking
three five week ones. I just finished my professionalism class. It
was wonderful and contained those vital skills I'll need to transition
from grad student to working professional. But there was so much
crammed into such a short period of time. If I'd had my way we would
have had more time. Now I'm in the first week of a new also zoom
class. We virtually meet on Thursdays. The prof said all we need to
do for class one is come up with answers to questions he's posted.
I'm anxious about the homework because I don't know how much there
will be. I couldn't get my laptop to download or print the syllabus.
Guess I'll have to visit the library techies on the way to work (Jules)
More homework? What is it with the homework? (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all who read and promote banned books.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
The righteous right is at it again. The gang known for trying
to ban all books that expose evils of the past and present or espouse
inconvenient truths has found a new target. This month a school board
in Tennessee voted unanimously to keep Art Spiegelman's graphic novel
Maus out of its eighth grade curriculum. The book is the true story
of Spiegelman's parents' concentration camp survival during the Nazi
regime. The reason was swear words and nude figures.
So of course I had to read the book.
I read Maus II which combines A Survivor's Tale (the original
narrative) with And Here My Troubles Began which features adult
Spiegelman's troubled relationship with his father, Vladek. His
mother (Anja) had committed suicide decades after her rescue. Jewish
people are portrayed as mice, Nazis as vicious cats.
When I read A Survivor's Tale cuss words and gratuitous nudity
were not what impressed me. (They are actually quite mild compared to
what many teens access on the Internet.) It was the stark
heartbreaking cruelty, the inhumanity of a real historic tragedy that
many people now are pretending never happened. Imagine after having
your family split up, some to be gassed and cremated, existing where
you are grossly overworked, fed only scraps, housed under conditions
we wouldn't keep animals in, and constantly abused by those who
consider you subhuman. It would be impossible to not be moved by
Vladek's heroic efforts to keep his beloved Anja alive. The New York
Times calls this graphic novel "an epic story told in tiny pictures."
And Here My Troubles Began shows the traumas survivors continue
to experience decades after escaping from a manmade Hell on Earth.
There's Anja's suicide. And there's the alienation between the father
whose beliefs and behaviors were forged in a crucible and his raised
in America son.
Back to the banning of Maus in a time when people identify as
neoNazis and attacks against Jewish people are escalating. There is
some good news. News of the school committee censorship caused the
book to shoot to the top of bestseller lists. Thankfully not everyone
is eager to forget.
Could you do me a favor? Read and promote a banned book. There
are so many you'll have no trouble finding one that speaks to you.
Ignorance is not bliss. We must do all in our power to combat it.
On a purrrsonal note, instead of one fifteen week class I'm taking
three five week ones. I just finished my professionalism class. It
was wonderful and contained those vital skills I'll need to transition
from grad student to working professional. But there was so much
crammed into such a short period of time. If I'd had my way we would
have had more time. Now I'm in the first week of a new also zoom
class. We virtually meet on Thursdays. The prof said all we need to
do for class one is come up with answers to questions he's posted.
I'm anxious about the homework because I don't know how much there
will be. I couldn't get my laptop to download or print the syllabus.
Guess I'll have to visit the library techies on the way to work (Jules)
More homework? What is it with the homework? (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all who read and promote banned books.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Tuesday, February 22, 2022
Find Your Unicorn Space
Find Your Unicorn Space
Adult nonfiction
"Find Your Unicorn Space was written with the intention that all
readers feel seen and heard and worthy of the gift to pursue creative
expression that brings their lives more joy..."
Remember when you were a kid? You caught frogs or insects, blew
bubbles, played dress up, danced without worrying how you looked,
occuppied tree houses or forest forts or urban playgrounds. You'd
jump up to do whatever might be fun for fun's sake. And you were
probably indulged.
Because you were a kid.
But about when puberty started kicking in things changed. Life
got serious, focussed toward what are too often considered the only
real goals of adult life: profession, partnering, and parenting.
Nobody told you that even if you excelled in all three spheres you
might feel empty, drained, all too aware of something missing. This
missing something may even leave you feeling like you're drowning.
According to Eve Rodsky, author of Find Your Unicorn Space, the
missing element is creative self expression, discovering and doing
what makes you feel most alive, the most you.
It's definitely different things for different people. For
Eugene, with a family tradition of hunting and fishing passed on
generation to generation, nothing beats the various hunting seasons,
ice and stream fishing, and weekends at the camp he built himself.
For me it's performing (especially drag), reading, blogging,
volunteering, protesting injustice, and writing.
It can be a challenge to discover and claim your unicorn space.
It may seem like there isn't enough time in a day to do everything
you're already trying to accomplish, never mind adding something new.
People may think your potential passion is a total waste of time.
Your nearest and dearest may feel neglected or abandoned, doubling
down on their demands for your attention. And even if you get some
time you may have forgotten what gets you in a state of flow, what
makes you feel joy and pride.
Rodsky has been there. When she tried to carve out some me time
it was a struggle to get two hours once a week uninterrupted by family
demands. Through a blend of research, how to advice, and personal
narrative she leads readers through the stages involved, showing how
to overcome the very real challenges.
If you've ever found yourself wondering, is this all there is?,
you owe it to yourself to read Find Your Unicorn Space.
On a purrrsonal note, the three day weekend was great. Sunday was
amazing. Amber and Brian hosted a gathering. Katie and Jacob came up
from Portland and Eugene and I drove over from Veazie. We spent the
afternoon together. That was so precious! Katie delivered Christmas
gifts. She gave me a gift card, a book that I'm looking forward to
reading, a pen set, and candy. Amber and Brian gave me a bunch of
scrapbooking supplies and 4 boxes of N95 masks which will really come
in handy with my high risk. Monday, even though there were no
classes, I had work. But very few students showed up to be fed. And
we had some workers from the Bears Den which was shut for the day. It
was easy peasy. And we had a little heat wave. It got up to 61
degrees. (Jules)
And today it's supposed to rain. Yuck! (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to the Unicorn friendly guys in the
family. Eugene didn't stand in the way of my entering my biggest
unicorn space, graduate school. Brian is glad he earns enough for
Amber to pursue her dream of becoming a horror story writer.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"Find Your Unicorn Space was written with the intention that all
readers feel seen and heard and worthy of the gift to pursue creative
expression that brings their lives more joy..."
Remember when you were a kid? You caught frogs or insects, blew
bubbles, played dress up, danced without worrying how you looked,
occuppied tree houses or forest forts or urban playgrounds. You'd
jump up to do whatever might be fun for fun's sake. And you were
probably indulged.
Because you were a kid.
But about when puberty started kicking in things changed. Life
got serious, focussed toward what are too often considered the only
real goals of adult life: profession, partnering, and parenting.
Nobody told you that even if you excelled in all three spheres you
might feel empty, drained, all too aware of something missing. This
missing something may even leave you feeling like you're drowning.
According to Eve Rodsky, author of Find Your Unicorn Space, the
missing element is creative self expression, discovering and doing
what makes you feel most alive, the most you.
It's definitely different things for different people. For
Eugene, with a family tradition of hunting and fishing passed on
generation to generation, nothing beats the various hunting seasons,
ice and stream fishing, and weekends at the camp he built himself.
For me it's performing (especially drag), reading, blogging,
volunteering, protesting injustice, and writing.
It can be a challenge to discover and claim your unicorn space.
It may seem like there isn't enough time in a day to do everything
you're already trying to accomplish, never mind adding something new.
People may think your potential passion is a total waste of time.
Your nearest and dearest may feel neglected or abandoned, doubling
down on their demands for your attention. And even if you get some
time you may have forgotten what gets you in a state of flow, what
makes you feel joy and pride.
Rodsky has been there. When she tried to carve out some me time
it was a struggle to get two hours once a week uninterrupted by family
demands. Through a blend of research, how to advice, and personal
narrative she leads readers through the stages involved, showing how
to overcome the very real challenges.
If you've ever found yourself wondering, is this all there is?,
you owe it to yourself to read Find Your Unicorn Space.
On a purrrsonal note, the three day weekend was great. Sunday was
amazing. Amber and Brian hosted a gathering. Katie and Jacob came up
from Portland and Eugene and I drove over from Veazie. We spent the
afternoon together. That was so precious! Katie delivered Christmas
gifts. She gave me a gift card, a book that I'm looking forward to
reading, a pen set, and candy. Amber and Brian gave me a bunch of
scrapbooking supplies and 4 boxes of N95 masks which will really come
in handy with my high risk. Monday, even though there were no
classes, I had work. But very few students showed up to be fed. And
we had some workers from the Bears Den which was shut for the day. It
was easy peasy. And we had a little heat wave. It got up to 61
degrees. (Jules)
And today it's supposed to rain. Yuck! (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to the Unicorn friendly guys in the
family. Eugene didn't stand in the way of my entering my biggest
unicorn space, graduate school. Brian is glad he earns enough for
Amber to pursue her dream of becoming a horror story writer.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Monday, February 21, 2022
This is the dress I wore (with a long black cardigan) for my professional presentation. I bought it from Orono Thrift Shop back when Katie was living at home. She thought it should be hers. For awhile we were stealing it out of each other's closets. And, yeah, it looked much better on her.
Sent from my U.S.Cellular© Smartphone
Unusually Situated Chillers
Unusually Situated Chillers
In one of the beautiful coincidences that I so often enjoy in my
blogging my older daughter, Amber, and my good work friend, Emily,
recommended YA chillers that are similar in their departure from the
usual. So set down your devices. They haven't been imagined where
we're headed: a realm of small villages and large superstitions where
the settings play as large a role in the narratives as the humans who
inhabit them.
The Near Witch
"I stare out at this empty landscape, and it seems impossible
that I saw him, saw anyone. After all, there are no strangers in the
town of Near. There haven't been since long ago, before I was born,
before the house was built, before the Council..."
The town of Near, setting of V. E. Schwab's The Near Witch, is
an insular village surrounded on all sides by the inhospitable moor.
Houses are arranged in small clusters. The Council arbitrates all
matters. Although strangers haven't shown up in ages, they are
greatly feared. Adherence to the old ways is highly valued.
Banishment is the ultimate punishment.
There is a deep belief in witches and their powers. Two witch
sisters, Magda and Dreska, live on the edge where town meets moor.
"...The fact that the Thorne sisters are still standing, or
hobbling, is a sure sign of their craft. They've been around as long
as the Council, and not just Tomas and Matthew and Eli, but their
ancestors, the real Council. As long as the Near Witch. As long as
Near itself. Hundreds of years..."
One night after lulling little sister, Wren, to sleep with
stories, Lexi, Schwab's narrator, glancing out a window, sees a
stranger at the spot where village meets moor. His eyes meet hers
before he vanishes. She is curious, eager to meet him.
The rest of the village is anything but. Guided by the Council,
the people come to fear the stranger. Lexi remembers what her father
had told her about fear: "It has the power to close their eyes, turn
away. Nothing good grows out of fear."
When their young children begin disappearing the villagers' fear
turns to panic. Sure only the stranger can do something so evil, they
begin to hunt him down. Lexi, who has had a chance to get to know
him, is sure of his innocence. But how can she protect him long
enough to discover the truth?
The Hollow Girl
"She talked about it sometimes, about the hearth witches of
Ireland granting powerful blessings and casting terrible curses. The
English witches could hear the wind's whispered secrets and control
the weather. The Scottish witches had mastered fire and water, just
as our Welsh kinfolk could influence dreams. The magic Gran claimed--
that I would one day claim--was vast and varied, picked up over
generations of traveling."
Bethan and her Gran are members of a traveling clan of Welsh
Romani. They are a very insular tribe, quite wary of outsiders. Even
the rare man who marries in will be shunned by the community.
Gran is a healer who wields great power in the community. As the
draboni, she's on equal footing with the chieftain. She earns money
selling spells and cures in markets as the tribe travels. She has
"shallow magic" that plays into the prejudices of outsiders. But
she's also capable of true magic that sometimes comes at a terrible
cost.
Bethan is Gran's apprentice, learning all the secrets of their
arcane practice. She has taken over the actual market selling since
Gran has trouble walking. At one market, despite her reservations,
she becomes friends with a gadjo (outsider) who protects her from a
drunk. Martyn is a local who has the stall next to hers.
Silas, the chieftain's son, lusts after Bethan and makes quite
unwanted advances. Her friendship with Martyn enrages him. He rapes
her and then, with the aid of his friends, assaults Martyn, leaving
him in a coma.
Bethan desperately wants to save Martyn's life. Yes, there is a
spell for that. A very costly one. To achieve her goal she will have
to perform some really gruesome acts, collecting body parts from his
assailants.
Can she before it's too late?
On a purrrsonal note, I am between five week classes. I learned a lot
of importance in my professionalism class and enjoyed the actual
classes. And I got all the homework in with a lot of help from
Caitlin. Elizabeth says I did well on my professional presentation.
But the amount of homework with computer components triggered my
anxiety. The one thing I'd change about the class is add more time.
The material is enough for fifteen weeks. The next class starts
Thursday. It's a zoom taught by a dude who has never before taught an
online class. We'll see how that goes. Elizabeth asked if I'd be
willing to tutor statistics. I'd like to. But I need to see the
class syllabus to figure out if I'll have the time to do a good job of
it. (Jules)
It's time for winter to go away already. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Elizabeth for creating and teaching
such an amazing class and Caitlin for helping me get all the homework
done. Caitlin is job hunting. I selfishly hope she gets something in
traveling distance like Boston or the Big Apple.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
In one of the beautiful coincidences that I so often enjoy in my
blogging my older daughter, Amber, and my good work friend, Emily,
recommended YA chillers that are similar in their departure from the
usual. So set down your devices. They haven't been imagined where
we're headed: a realm of small villages and large superstitions where
the settings play as large a role in the narratives as the humans who
inhabit them.
The Near Witch
"I stare out at this empty landscape, and it seems impossible
that I saw him, saw anyone. After all, there are no strangers in the
town of Near. There haven't been since long ago, before I was born,
before the house was built, before the Council..."
The town of Near, setting of V. E. Schwab's The Near Witch, is
an insular village surrounded on all sides by the inhospitable moor.
Houses are arranged in small clusters. The Council arbitrates all
matters. Although strangers haven't shown up in ages, they are
greatly feared. Adherence to the old ways is highly valued.
Banishment is the ultimate punishment.
There is a deep belief in witches and their powers. Two witch
sisters, Magda and Dreska, live on the edge where town meets moor.
"...The fact that the Thorne sisters are still standing, or
hobbling, is a sure sign of their craft. They've been around as long
as the Council, and not just Tomas and Matthew and Eli, but their
ancestors, the real Council. As long as the Near Witch. As long as
Near itself. Hundreds of years..."
One night after lulling little sister, Wren, to sleep with
stories, Lexi, Schwab's narrator, glancing out a window, sees a
stranger at the spot where village meets moor. His eyes meet hers
before he vanishes. She is curious, eager to meet him.
The rest of the village is anything but. Guided by the Council,
the people come to fear the stranger. Lexi remembers what her father
had told her about fear: "It has the power to close their eyes, turn
away. Nothing good grows out of fear."
When their young children begin disappearing the villagers' fear
turns to panic. Sure only the stranger can do something so evil, they
begin to hunt him down. Lexi, who has had a chance to get to know
him, is sure of his innocence. But how can she protect him long
enough to discover the truth?
The Hollow Girl
"She talked about it sometimes, about the hearth witches of
Ireland granting powerful blessings and casting terrible curses. The
English witches could hear the wind's whispered secrets and control
the weather. The Scottish witches had mastered fire and water, just
as our Welsh kinfolk could influence dreams. The magic Gran claimed--
that I would one day claim--was vast and varied, picked up over
generations of traveling."
Bethan and her Gran are members of a traveling clan of Welsh
Romani. They are a very insular tribe, quite wary of outsiders. Even
the rare man who marries in will be shunned by the community.
Gran is a healer who wields great power in the community. As the
draboni, she's on equal footing with the chieftain. She earns money
selling spells and cures in markets as the tribe travels. She has
"shallow magic" that plays into the prejudices of outsiders. But
she's also capable of true magic that sometimes comes at a terrible
cost.
Bethan is Gran's apprentice, learning all the secrets of their
arcane practice. She has taken over the actual market selling since
Gran has trouble walking. At one market, despite her reservations,
she becomes friends with a gadjo (outsider) who protects her from a
drunk. Martyn is a local who has the stall next to hers.
Silas, the chieftain's son, lusts after Bethan and makes quite
unwanted advances. Her friendship with Martyn enrages him. He rapes
her and then, with the aid of his friends, assaults Martyn, leaving
him in a coma.
Bethan desperately wants to save Martyn's life. Yes, there is a
spell for that. A very costly one. To achieve her goal she will have
to perform some really gruesome acts, collecting body parts from his
assailants.
Can she before it's too late?
On a purrrsonal note, I am between five week classes. I learned a lot
of importance in my professionalism class and enjoyed the actual
classes. And I got all the homework in with a lot of help from
Caitlin. Elizabeth says I did well on my professional presentation.
But the amount of homework with computer components triggered my
anxiety. The one thing I'd change about the class is add more time.
The material is enough for fifteen weeks. The next class starts
Thursday. It's a zoom taught by a dude who has never before taught an
online class. We'll see how that goes. Elizabeth asked if I'd be
willing to tutor statistics. I'd like to. But I need to see the
class syllabus to figure out if I'll have the time to do a good job of
it. (Jules)
It's time for winter to go away already. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Elizabeth for creating and teaching
such an amazing class and Caitlin for helping me get all the homework
done. Caitlin is job hunting. I selfishly hope she gets something in
traveling distance like Boston or the Big Apple.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Saturday, February 19, 2022
Punching The Air
Punching The Air
When Dr. Yosef Salaam was only fifteen he was hit with a blow
most of us could never have recovered from. He was one of the boys
falsely convicted in the Central Park Jogger Case. Before they were
exonerated he endured years behind bars. Amazingly now he is an
activist, an inspirational speaker, and a poet. Ibi Zoboi is an
immensely talented, award winning Haitian born writer with no qualms
about speaking truth to power. So you know that when the two
collaborate on a book it will be a must read. Punching The Air most
certainly is.
"All because
we were in the wrong place
we were in the wrong skins
we were in the wrong time
we were in the wrong bodies
we were in the wrong country
we were in the wrong
were in the wrong
in the wrong
the wrong
wrong"
Amal lives in a neighborhood that is gentrifying. His neighbors
are being kicked out of their homes. So far his family has been able
to hold on. But white teens have been invading the diminishing space
the original residents have managed to hold on to. One night when
Amal and his friends see the white boys taking over their basketball
courts
"But those white boys
didn't care about no lines
The world belonged to them
including our hood"
simmering resentments flare up. A white boy ends up in a hospital in
a coma. Amal is found guilty in a trial; his four friends take plea
deals. They are all sent to juvie. If the white boy dies he will be
in there for a long time.
"There was no
in-between time
to say goodbye
I went from
kid to criminal to felon
to prisoner to inmate."
Now Amal is in a very bad place. Groups of inmates fight.
Guards are hostile and abusive...
...But there's a woman who comes in to teach a poetry class. If
Amal does well enough in his program he'll get to participate.
Creating poetry and art may be his key to survival.
"I especially know my
art and words
How to bend and twist
them into
truth"
The book itself is narrated eloquently in verse and further
brought to life by black and white images. In the beginning they are
grey and diffuse. Toward the end butterflies seem to fly off the page.
Anyone who cares about the system of juvenile injustice we have
going on in America or just wants to engage with a beautifully
formatted compelling narrative will find Punching The Air to be a must
read.
On a purrrsonal note, I hope you had a great Valentines Day. I sure
did! Eugene took me to Applebees for supper. He also gave me
flowers, candy, and a sweet card. I baked him his favorite applesauce
chocolate chip cookies and got him a card. Tobago gave me lots of
catly affection. The classified employees at Wells liked the bags of
chocolates Michele and I made up for them. Love the day, but hate how
commercialized it is. (Jules)
I got lots of cat treats and attention. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
When Dr. Yosef Salaam was only fifteen he was hit with a blow
most of us could never have recovered from. He was one of the boys
falsely convicted in the Central Park Jogger Case. Before they were
exonerated he endured years behind bars. Amazingly now he is an
activist, an inspirational speaker, and a poet. Ibi Zoboi is an
immensely talented, award winning Haitian born writer with no qualms
about speaking truth to power. So you know that when the two
collaborate on a book it will be a must read. Punching The Air most
certainly is.
"All because
we were in the wrong place
we were in the wrong skins
we were in the wrong time
we were in the wrong bodies
we were in the wrong country
we were in the wrong
were in the wrong
in the wrong
the wrong
wrong"
Amal lives in a neighborhood that is gentrifying. His neighbors
are being kicked out of their homes. So far his family has been able
to hold on. But white teens have been invading the diminishing space
the original residents have managed to hold on to. One night when
Amal and his friends see the white boys taking over their basketball
courts
"But those white boys
didn't care about no lines
The world belonged to them
including our hood"
simmering resentments flare up. A white boy ends up in a hospital in
a coma. Amal is found guilty in a trial; his four friends take plea
deals. They are all sent to juvie. If the white boy dies he will be
in there for a long time.
"There was no
in-between time
to say goodbye
I went from
kid to criminal to felon
to prisoner to inmate."
Now Amal is in a very bad place. Groups of inmates fight.
Guards are hostile and abusive...
...But there's a woman who comes in to teach a poetry class. If
Amal does well enough in his program he'll get to participate.
Creating poetry and art may be his key to survival.
"I especially know my
art and words
How to bend and twist
them into
truth"
The book itself is narrated eloquently in verse and further
brought to life by black and white images. In the beginning they are
grey and diffuse. Toward the end butterflies seem to fly off the page.
Anyone who cares about the system of juvenile injustice we have
going on in America or just wants to engage with a beautifully
formatted compelling narrative will find Punching The Air to be a must
read.
On a purrrsonal note, I hope you had a great Valentines Day. I sure
did! Eugene took me to Applebees for supper. He also gave me
flowers, candy, and a sweet card. I baked him his favorite applesauce
chocolate chip cookies and got him a card. Tobago gave me lots of
catly affection. The classified employees at Wells liked the bags of
chocolates Michele and I made up for them. Love the day, but hate how
commercialized it is. (Jules)
I got lots of cat treats and attention. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Eugene.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Tuesday, February 15, 2022
We had practice interviews in zoom class last week. I chose this dress because it looked professional. But when I put it on right before class it was as itchy as those goodie two shoes dresses my mom made me wear to Sunday school back in the day. When I picked one for my presentation Thursday I actually tried it on.
Sent from my U.S.Cellular© Smartphone
White Smoke
White Smoke
YA chiller
Readers, you are in for a treat! Tiffany D. Jackson has taken
her "first official venture into horror." The characters in White
Smoke experience plenty of close encounters of the malevolent spectral
kind. But, like the characters in her other narratives, they also
have to deal with systemic racism. In her acknowledgements, quoting
from a Twilight Zone episode, Jackson says:
"The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and
explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts,
attitudes, prejudices to be found only in the minds of men. For the
record, prejudices can kill, and a suspicion can destroy, and a
thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all of
its own--for the children and the children yet unborn..."
Marigold and her blended family (mom, brother, stepdad,
stepsister) are making a fresh start. A mantra (Change is good.
Change is necessary. Change is needed) runs through the book. Her
mom has won an art residency that includes free use of a restored
historic house for the length of the residency. It's part of a
foundation's efforts to build up the local community.
Marigold is not quite sold on the idea. Their renovated house
is the only inhabited one on the street. The rest are falling down,
some severely smoke damaged. Her own restored home boasts
inexplicable noises, lights and doors that operate without human help,
and vile odors eminating from a basement they're supposed to stay out
of. Stepsister Piper, at the age of ten, begins chumming around with
an invisible friend who wants Marigold gone. And the danger may not
be limited to the house. The foundation may not be being transparent
about their true intentions.
Marigold tries to share her misgivings. But she's got a
credibility problem. Poor choices she's made in the past are the
reason the family needs a fresh start half way across the country.
How can she convince her parents there's evil afoot when they're ready
to administer a urine test at the least bit of trouble?
It you like your chillers to come with a side of anti racism
White Smoke is a purrrfect choice.
On a purrrsonal note, l owe all my readers an apology for going a week
without new content. I just had so many homework projects due too
soon. Other than work, commuting, school, cooking, and sleep, it was
all homework. Grad school can be like that. Thursday I'll be doing a
ten minute presentation with visuals. I've gotta really prepare for
that. (Jules)
One of the things I like best about being a cat is no homework.
(Tobago).
A great big shout out goes out to my friend, Caitlin, for giving me
lots of help with the computer aspects (my Achilles heel) of all that
homework. When (I've just stopped saying if) I pass the class Caitlin
deserves a lot of credit.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA chiller
Readers, you are in for a treat! Tiffany D. Jackson has taken
her "first official venture into horror." The characters in White
Smoke experience plenty of close encounters of the malevolent spectral
kind. But, like the characters in her other narratives, they also
have to deal with systemic racism. In her acknowledgements, quoting
from a Twilight Zone episode, Jackson says:
"The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and
explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts,
attitudes, prejudices to be found only in the minds of men. For the
record, prejudices can kill, and a suspicion can destroy, and a
thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all of
its own--for the children and the children yet unborn..."
Marigold and her blended family (mom, brother, stepdad,
stepsister) are making a fresh start. A mantra (Change is good.
Change is necessary. Change is needed) runs through the book. Her
mom has won an art residency that includes free use of a restored
historic house for the length of the residency. It's part of a
foundation's efforts to build up the local community.
Marigold is not quite sold on the idea. Their renovated house
is the only inhabited one on the street. The rest are falling down,
some severely smoke damaged. Her own restored home boasts
inexplicable noises, lights and doors that operate without human help,
and vile odors eminating from a basement they're supposed to stay out
of. Stepsister Piper, at the age of ten, begins chumming around with
an invisible friend who wants Marigold gone. And the danger may not
be limited to the house. The foundation may not be being transparent
about their true intentions.
Marigold tries to share her misgivings. But she's got a
credibility problem. Poor choices she's made in the past are the
reason the family needs a fresh start half way across the country.
How can she convince her parents there's evil afoot when they're ready
to administer a urine test at the least bit of trouble?
It you like your chillers to come with a side of anti racism
White Smoke is a purrrfect choice.
On a purrrsonal note, l owe all my readers an apology for going a week
without new content. I just had so many homework projects due too
soon. Other than work, commuting, school, cooking, and sleep, it was
all homework. Grad school can be like that. Thursday I'll be doing a
ten minute presentation with visuals. I've gotta really prepare for
that. (Jules)
One of the things I like best about being a cat is no homework.
(Tobago).
A great big shout out goes out to my friend, Caitlin, for giving me
lots of help with the computer aspects (my Achilles heel) of all that
homework. When (I've just stopped saying if) I pass the class Caitlin
deserves a lot of credit.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Sunday, February 6, 2022
Snail's Ark
Snail's Ark
Picture book
I have never before seen such an amazing take on the Noah's Ark
story as Snail's Ark. Irene Latham's text turns the narrative into a
lesson on love brave enough to risk all to save a friend. The
narrator is a creature most of us overlook. Mehrdokht Amini's lively
collage like illustrations in stormy hues pull their weight in
conveying the mood of the story.
"Esther woke early.
Her antlers waved.
The air was sharp,
Like before a storm.
Something was happening,
Something big."
Esther the snail awakes to a very scary day. Land animals are
stampeding. Her first impulse is to hide so as not to be crushed by
an elephant. But as she sees the air and river creatures fleeing
toward a big boat she realizes she too must get to safety...
...but not without her good friend, Solomon.
Young readers and listeners will find the tale engaging and the
ending satisfying. Reading out loud adults will enjoy all the
opportunities for embellishing the words that the book offers.
And there is a message for adults. A world of COVID and climate
change can feel like a gathering storm with slim chances of survival.
What are we doing to help get our fellow humans to safety in these
terrifying times? Can we be brave like Esther?
On a purrrsonal note, donating blood can be a great way of helping
others get on the safety Arc. Last week UMaine had a very successful
Red Cross blood drive. We got a lot of donors. I volunteered in
canteen both days talking to people, serving them pizza, making sure
they were feeling OK, and encouraging the other volunteers. It didn't
feel like work--more like hosting a party. I was talking to people,
showing pictures of Tobago (everyone loves Tobago), eating pizza and
snacks, and wearing my cat shirts, skinny leg jeans, and jewelery with
no uniform covering up my style. What's not to like? We also did
something new. Since it was close to Valentines Day I made a really
big card for the Red Cross nurses (who never suspected a thing even
though they stopped by to get pizza) and got donors and other
volunteers to sign. People were so enthusiastic about signing. And
the nurses love their card. They're going to put it up in their
office. (Jules)
Well of course hoomans love me. I iz a gorgeous girl. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all the nurses, donors, fellow
volunteers, and organizers who made the event come together to be a
rousing success.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
I have never before seen such an amazing take on the Noah's Ark
story as Snail's Ark. Irene Latham's text turns the narrative into a
lesson on love brave enough to risk all to save a friend. The
narrator is a creature most of us overlook. Mehrdokht Amini's lively
collage like illustrations in stormy hues pull their weight in
conveying the mood of the story.
"Esther woke early.
Her antlers waved.
The air was sharp,
Like before a storm.
Something was happening,
Something big."
Esther the snail awakes to a very scary day. Land animals are
stampeding. Her first impulse is to hide so as not to be crushed by
an elephant. But as she sees the air and river creatures fleeing
toward a big boat she realizes she too must get to safety...
...but not without her good friend, Solomon.
Young readers and listeners will find the tale engaging and the
ending satisfying. Reading out loud adults will enjoy all the
opportunities for embellishing the words that the book offers.
And there is a message for adults. A world of COVID and climate
change can feel like a gathering storm with slim chances of survival.
What are we doing to help get our fellow humans to safety in these
terrifying times? Can we be brave like Esther?
On a purrrsonal note, donating blood can be a great way of helping
others get on the safety Arc. Last week UMaine had a very successful
Red Cross blood drive. We got a lot of donors. I volunteered in
canteen both days talking to people, serving them pizza, making sure
they were feeling OK, and encouraging the other volunteers. It didn't
feel like work--more like hosting a party. I was talking to people,
showing pictures of Tobago (everyone loves Tobago), eating pizza and
snacks, and wearing my cat shirts, skinny leg jeans, and jewelery with
no uniform covering up my style. What's not to like? We also did
something new. Since it was close to Valentines Day I made a really
big card for the Red Cross nurses (who never suspected a thing even
though they stopped by to get pizza) and got donors and other
volunteers to sign. People were so enthusiastic about signing. And
the nurses love their card. They're going to put it up in their
office. (Jules)
Well of course hoomans love me. I iz a gorgeous girl. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all the nurses, donors, fellow
volunteers, and organizers who made the event come together to be a
rousing success.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Saturday, February 5, 2022
Survival Mom
Survival Mom
Adult nonfiction
I don't have to tell you that shit hits the fan large scale as
in oh, snap, pandemic. But crises that transform life into chaos
don't have to be as dramatic as COVID. Eugene and I had three
children including a baby when the ice storm of '98 hit, taking out
electricity for a week, significantly longer in rural areas. The
trailer park used a well for water, a well that needed electricity to
function. So no water. Even making putting off showers and laundry
and drinking bottled water, there were four people needing to use the
toilet. I have vivid memories of balancing with a hefty, active
almost toddler in a backpack on ice, chipping more of the same and
collecting it in a bucket, and melting it over a camp stove so we
could flush.
I think you get the idea. Those of us who can afford to do so
tend to go through life in a state of comfortable complacency until
the shit hits the fan. Lisa Bedford, author of Survival Mom, says
that's a dangerous way to function. The time to prepare for
emergencies is well before your family is down to the last roll of
toilet paper and it's totally out of stock.
Bedford started the blog that led to the book when she realized
that the writings on disaster preparedness were by, of, and for men.
She created a format that would be more accessible to moms, the
backbone of many families.
Survival Mom is both truly comprehensive and user friendly.
Each chapter covers one preparedness aspect such as sanitation, living
without electricity, evacuation, and finances. Each goes from baby
steps to more complex projects. You also learn how to include
children in the work without scaring them. In addition to achieving
family buy in, this can lead to truly awesome quality time.
Bedford knows that one size does not fit all in matters of
emergency preparedness. Most common natural disasters differ by
geographic locations. And other factors enter in. I'm much more
likely to deal with a blizzard than an earthquake. My trailer with
storage shed offers different affordances than a McMansion or a rental
apartment. One of my most idiosyncratic emergency stashes (and this
should come as no surprise) is based on a fear of libraries not being
available. I stock up on books from yard sales, library book sales,
little free libraries, and book sales.
Even apart from disaster preparedness, though, readers can learn
a lot from Survival Mom. Many of her readiness hacks can greatly
enhance quality of life. Walking without your eyes glued on devices
can not only help you not be a crime victim, but allow you to see
sunsets, unusual architecture, scampering chipmunks, and other
delightful sights you'd otherwise miss out on. Non screen family time
can strengthen bonds and create precious memories. Cooking nutritious
meals rather than routinely going for takeout or prepackaged food and
using a vehicle only when you need to can lead to improved health and
fitness.
I learned a lot. I bet you will too.
On a purrrsonal note, although it may not qualify as disaster, the
current snowy stretch Maine is going through with major storms a week
apart is illustrating the need for preparedness. It started last
Saturday when we got over a foot of the white stuff. Tobago and I
were able to stay in while Eugene was blizzard battling. Even as it
was winding down word was out about another big storm due Friday. So
people in charge of snow removal had to dig up the mountains they'd
built clearing streets and parking lots and load the snow into dump
trucks to move it to undisclosed locations. Thursday in Wells Dining
Commons the mood was a pandemic rare joy. Undergrads weren't waiting
on admin to declare Friday a snow day. They had determined it would
be one and made their plans. Whether a ski trip or a chance to sleep
in and take it easy they were greatly anticipating a break in routine
and chance to exercise agency. I told my manager and supervisors I
might not be able to make it in if my commute would be too dangerous.
Eugene left the house about an hour before midnight. I was snowed in
when I woke up. The snow was steady, the winds fierce. I stayed in
doing homework, catching up with laundry and cleaning, playing with
Tobago, and reading--very happy not to be bus commuting in the mess.
I was lucky. We didn't lose power like a lot of people did. This
morning Eugene got home after a 29 hour shift. He's now getting some
well deserved sleep. (Jules)
My daddy hooman is home. Yasss!!! (Tobago).
A great big shout goes out to the blizzard battlers and electric
company repairmen and all others working out in the storm.
Congratulations go out to our Adam who has nailed an engineering (his
major) job in the town next door to where he lives months before his
graduation.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
I don't have to tell you that shit hits the fan large scale as
in oh, snap, pandemic. But crises that transform life into chaos
don't have to be as dramatic as COVID. Eugene and I had three
children including a baby when the ice storm of '98 hit, taking out
electricity for a week, significantly longer in rural areas. The
trailer park used a well for water, a well that needed electricity to
function. So no water. Even making putting off showers and laundry
and drinking bottled water, there were four people needing to use the
toilet. I have vivid memories of balancing with a hefty, active
almost toddler in a backpack on ice, chipping more of the same and
collecting it in a bucket, and melting it over a camp stove so we
could flush.
I think you get the idea. Those of us who can afford to do so
tend to go through life in a state of comfortable complacency until
the shit hits the fan. Lisa Bedford, author of Survival Mom, says
that's a dangerous way to function. The time to prepare for
emergencies is well before your family is down to the last roll of
toilet paper and it's totally out of stock.
Bedford started the blog that led to the book when she realized
that the writings on disaster preparedness were by, of, and for men.
She created a format that would be more accessible to moms, the
backbone of many families.
Survival Mom is both truly comprehensive and user friendly.
Each chapter covers one preparedness aspect such as sanitation, living
without electricity, evacuation, and finances. Each goes from baby
steps to more complex projects. You also learn how to include
children in the work without scaring them. In addition to achieving
family buy in, this can lead to truly awesome quality time.
Bedford knows that one size does not fit all in matters of
emergency preparedness. Most common natural disasters differ by
geographic locations. And other factors enter in. I'm much more
likely to deal with a blizzard than an earthquake. My trailer with
storage shed offers different affordances than a McMansion or a rental
apartment. One of my most idiosyncratic emergency stashes (and this
should come as no surprise) is based on a fear of libraries not being
available. I stock up on books from yard sales, library book sales,
little free libraries, and book sales.
Even apart from disaster preparedness, though, readers can learn
a lot from Survival Mom. Many of her readiness hacks can greatly
enhance quality of life. Walking without your eyes glued on devices
can not only help you not be a crime victim, but allow you to see
sunsets, unusual architecture, scampering chipmunks, and other
delightful sights you'd otherwise miss out on. Non screen family time
can strengthen bonds and create precious memories. Cooking nutritious
meals rather than routinely going for takeout or prepackaged food and
using a vehicle only when you need to can lead to improved health and
fitness.
I learned a lot. I bet you will too.
On a purrrsonal note, although it may not qualify as disaster, the
current snowy stretch Maine is going through with major storms a week
apart is illustrating the need for preparedness. It started last
Saturday when we got over a foot of the white stuff. Tobago and I
were able to stay in while Eugene was blizzard battling. Even as it
was winding down word was out about another big storm due Friday. So
people in charge of snow removal had to dig up the mountains they'd
built clearing streets and parking lots and load the snow into dump
trucks to move it to undisclosed locations. Thursday in Wells Dining
Commons the mood was a pandemic rare joy. Undergrads weren't waiting
on admin to declare Friday a snow day. They had determined it would
be one and made their plans. Whether a ski trip or a chance to sleep
in and take it easy they were greatly anticipating a break in routine
and chance to exercise agency. I told my manager and supervisors I
might not be able to make it in if my commute would be too dangerous.
Eugene left the house about an hour before midnight. I was snowed in
when I woke up. The snow was steady, the winds fierce. I stayed in
doing homework, catching up with laundry and cleaning, playing with
Tobago, and reading--very happy not to be bus commuting in the mess.
I was lucky. We didn't lose power like a lot of people did. This
morning Eugene got home after a 29 hour shift. He's now getting some
well deserved sleep. (Jules)
My daddy hooman is home. Yasss!!! (Tobago).
A great big shout goes out to the blizzard battlers and electric
company repairmen and all others working out in the storm.
Congratulations go out to our Adam who has nailed an engineering (his
major) job in the town next door to where he lives months before his
graduation.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my iPod
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