You May Already Be A Winner
Juvenile fiction
"Every morning Mom did this.
She would say Berk isn't going to daycare because of a cough, or
Berkeley had a long night, or because Mom was running late, but
really, Berkeley hadn't been to daycare for weeks and I hadn't been to
school in just as long."
Olivia (12), protagonist of Ann Dee Ellis' You May Already Be A
Winner, has had to grow up much too fast and assume adult
responsibilities. Her father has taken off. Her mom has her stay
home to take care of her little sister when she's working house
cleaning jobs. Berkeley had missed the kindergarten cut off date by a
few days.
Olivia knows that there's the very real danger of the wrong
people learning her family's secret. But she remains an optimist.
She remembers the good days when her family was together and believes
they aren't just a thing of the past. She keeps trying to get in
touch with her dad.
Olivia has even more big dreams than reuniting her family. She
doesn't like to see Berkeley growing in a decrepit trailer park. She
hates her mother having to work so hard she doesn't have time or
energy to parent. So she enters as many contests as she can discover.
"My favorite part of entering was when the contest said this one
thing: You May Already Be A Winner. It made me think that somewhere,
probably somewhere fancy like New York City or Paris, someone was
holding a big old suitcase of cash with my name all typed in gold, or
maybe on a tropical island where it never snowed and where the air
smelled like coconuts was a house that was made especially for me,
decorated in green and purple, my favorite colors."
Sadly, Olivia's faith that things will work out is going to be
seriously tested. Read the book to see what happens.
On a personal note, it's lilac season. Penobscot County, Maine is
adorned in shades of purple. The kitchen is sweetly perfumed from the
one's Eugene picked me. We worked in the community garden last
night. I came home with spinach and beet greens. I have a tooth
that's bugging me. I'm treating it with salt water. I'm working
really hard to earn my tuition and can't afford a dentist. The price
of American exceptionalism.
A great big shout out goes out to my precious daughter, Amber, who
turned 28 yesterday, and her soul mate fiancée, Brian, who celebrated
with her.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Wednesday, May 30, 2018
Monday, May 28, 2018
Hunger
Hunger
Adult nonfiction
"This book, Hunger, is a book about living in the world when you
are not a few or even forty pounds overweight. This is a book about
living in the world when you are three or four hundred pounds
overweight, when you are not obese or morbidly obese but super
morbidly obese according to your body mass index, or BMI."
Roxanne Gay knows what it's like to inhabit that world. At one
point she weighed 577 pounds and was considered a perfect candidate
for $25,000 gastric bypass surgery.
"What those doctors offered was so tempting, so seductive: this
notion that we could fall asleep for a few hours, and within a year of
waking up, most of our problems would be solved, at least according to
the medical establishment. That is, of course, if we continued to
delude ourselves that our bodies were our biggest problem."
Gay did not give in to the seductive temptation. She continued
to struggle with her "wildly undisciplined" body, vaccilating between
diet and exercise regimens and the lack thereof, at one point becoming
bulemic. In her poignant and thought provoking memoir, Hunger, she
introduces readers to a world in which one is simultaneously subject
to public scrutiny and invisible.
The scrutiny (and accompanying judgment) came in many forms.
Fat shaming is one of the last sociably acceptable prejudices.
(Having a sibling about my height and twice my weight I've heard some
very cruel remarks.) There are also the very eloquent facial
expressions such as the "You're going to eat that?" look directed at
overweight people about to consume foods like ice cream. Even loved
ones, out of concern, can push diets and exercise, making a fat person
feel never really accepted. Gay felt that her family saw her as an
unfinished project, rather than a sentient human being.
Despite this scrutiny, fat women are invisible in the sense of
not being listened to, affirmed, or valued. According to Gay, this is
because their size violates the patriarchal image girls and women are
supposed to conform to.
"This is what most girls are taught--that we should be slender
and small. We should not take up space. We should be seen and not
heard, and if we are seen, we should be pleasing to men, acceptable to
society. And most women know this, that we are supposed to disappear,
but it's something that needs to be said, loudly, over and over again,
so that we can resist surrendering to what is expected of us."
When Gay was only twelve she was gang raped by a boy she liked
and his friends. This traumatic event made her equate desirability to
men with vulnerability to violation. The only way she saw to protect
herself from boys and men was to gain pounds that would render her
unattractive to them.
Hunger is a must read for feminists and allies.
On a personal note, I wish you, my readers, a meaningful Memorial
Day. Enjoy time off work with family and friends. Just don't forget
the reason for the holiday: the men and women who died because nations
haven't evolved a better way to solve differences than war. We really
need to. The more potent our weapons are, the more urgent peace
becomes.
A great big shout out goes out to you with wishes for a lovely summer
that includes awesome book discoveries.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"This book, Hunger, is a book about living in the world when you
are not a few or even forty pounds overweight. This is a book about
living in the world when you are three or four hundred pounds
overweight, when you are not obese or morbidly obese but super
morbidly obese according to your body mass index, or BMI."
Roxanne Gay knows what it's like to inhabit that world. At one
point she weighed 577 pounds and was considered a perfect candidate
for $25,000 gastric bypass surgery.
"What those doctors offered was so tempting, so seductive: this
notion that we could fall asleep for a few hours, and within a year of
waking up, most of our problems would be solved, at least according to
the medical establishment. That is, of course, if we continued to
delude ourselves that our bodies were our biggest problem."
Gay did not give in to the seductive temptation. She continued
to struggle with her "wildly undisciplined" body, vaccilating between
diet and exercise regimens and the lack thereof, at one point becoming
bulemic. In her poignant and thought provoking memoir, Hunger, she
introduces readers to a world in which one is simultaneously subject
to public scrutiny and invisible.
The scrutiny (and accompanying judgment) came in many forms.
Fat shaming is one of the last sociably acceptable prejudices.
(Having a sibling about my height and twice my weight I've heard some
very cruel remarks.) There are also the very eloquent facial
expressions such as the "You're going to eat that?" look directed at
overweight people about to consume foods like ice cream. Even loved
ones, out of concern, can push diets and exercise, making a fat person
feel never really accepted. Gay felt that her family saw her as an
unfinished project, rather than a sentient human being.
Despite this scrutiny, fat women are invisible in the sense of
not being listened to, affirmed, or valued. According to Gay, this is
because their size violates the patriarchal image girls and women are
supposed to conform to.
"This is what most girls are taught--that we should be slender
and small. We should not take up space. We should be seen and not
heard, and if we are seen, we should be pleasing to men, acceptable to
society. And most women know this, that we are supposed to disappear,
but it's something that needs to be said, loudly, over and over again,
so that we can resist surrendering to what is expected of us."
When Gay was only twelve she was gang raped by a boy she liked
and his friends. This traumatic event made her equate desirability to
men with vulnerability to violation. The only way she saw to protect
herself from boys and men was to gain pounds that would render her
unattractive to them.
Hunger is a must read for feminists and allies.
On a personal note, I wish you, my readers, a meaningful Memorial
Day. Enjoy time off work with family and friends. Just don't forget
the reason for the holiday: the men and women who died because nations
haven't evolved a better way to solve differences than war. We really
need to. The more potent our weapons are, the more urgent peace
becomes.
A great big shout out goes out to you with wishes for a lovely summer
that includes awesome book discoveries.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Sunday, May 27, 2018
Sinking The Sultana
Sinking The Sultana
YA/adult nonfiction
"Suddenly, with a loud roar, one of the Sultana's boilers
burst. Within seconds, two more boilers exploded. Steam and chunks
of red-hot iron blasted upward through the center of the boat. The
explosive force shattered the support structures of the main and cabin
decks as if they were toothpicks. Within a moment, both decks had
collapsed behind the main stairway in the center of the boat. A
gaping hole replaced the staterooms and cabin area above the boilers.
Surrounding the hole, the cabin deck's broken floorboards slanted
toward the fireboxes left exposed after the boilers exploded. The
Sultana's two chimneys, robbed of their support, toppled and crashed
onto the hurricane deck. Hundreds of men on the collapsed cabin and
smashed hurricane decks slid toward and then dropped into the
fireboxes' blazing coals."
Nobody can describe a marine catastrophe quite like Sally
M. Walker. Back in 2012, when this blog was close to its first
birthday, we discovered her Blizzard Of Glass. We learned that the
largest pre atomic bomb man made explosion happened in Canada in 1917
in Halifax Harbor when a freighter carrying explosive cargo for the
war in Europe collided with another ship. (If you want to read more I
posted that review July 17th of that year.) Sinking The Sultana takes
readers to an earlier war, the Civil War to be exact. As in Blizzard
Of Glass, Walker makes a too little known tragedy come to life through
vivid description, skillful interweaving of narrative and backstory,
and the experiences of the small group of individuals readers are most
vividly introduced to.
It was April 27, 1865. The Civil War had just ended. The
assassination of President Lincoln had sent America into shock. Still
wrapping up the military post conflict loose ends had to be done.
Prison camps like the notorious Andersonville were filled beyond
their capacity with men who had somehow survived battle, exposure,
starvation, parasites, and disease--men who now had to be returned to
their homes and families. To one group, these gaunt, traumatized
veterans, desperate for freedom and a normal life with loved ones,
were potentials for profit. Owners of steamboats (then relatively
new, state-of-the-art river transportation) knew that the more of
these men one could pack on board, the higher the profit.
The Sultana had been built in Ohio in 1862. Considered then
quite luxurious in accomodations, she was licensed to carry 376
passengers. Although nobody knows how many people traveled on her
final voyage, estimates are in the vicinity of two thousand. Days
earlier a bulge had developed in one of her boilers. A professional
boilermaker had recommended extensive repairs. Delay could have
resulted in other steamboats hauling the suddenly profitable soldiers.
Only a temporary repair was made.
More lives were lost than when the Titanic hit an iceberg forty-
seven years later. But Walker cautions against viewing the sinking of
the Sultana as of purely historical interest. Similar elements--civil
war, desperation and people who profit from it, and horrendously
crowded watercraft--doom too many of today's refugees. Her last
paragraph challenges us all.
"History and research are all about making connections. Each
time a person discovers the Sultana's story--even though it may be
many years after the disaster--a connection is established between
that person and the people who were on the boat. Maybe the Sultana
connection will motivate that person to help a victim who has suffered
a recent disaster. Maybe it will give someone the courage to protest
against an unethical situation, an unfair business practice, or an
action that exhibits questionable safety. Recognizing and acting in
these cases makes the Sultana relevant for people today. Perhaps that
is the best way we can honor the memory of those who died on the
Sultana."
Let's forge those connections!
On a personal note, I am having a fantastic weekend! I have so much
going on I'm a day late posting this. Friday was the first day of
Clean Sweep. People were stuffing bags with clothes. Stuff was
flying off the tables. We ended up taking in $5,400. I ran the
clothes section. I gave stuffed animals to cute kids who behaved and
mints to adults who looked like they were waiting patiently for
friends. The second day I kept trying to give away a humungous ugly
Christmas sweater. Everyone said it looked better on me. I guess if
there's a contest in December I have a guaranteed win. I don't know
what the total ended up but I wouldn't be surprised if we hit $6,000.
Lisa bought us all Family Dog take out both days. I got lots of
clothes, school supplies, and other totally cool stuff including the
most comfy chair ever, perfect for me and Joey cat. Today I went on a
drive with Eugene and he got us subs for lunch.
A great big shout out goes out to my clean sweep crew, our benevolent
boss, Lisa, and the customers who laid their money down.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA/adult nonfiction
"Suddenly, with a loud roar, one of the Sultana's boilers
burst. Within seconds, two more boilers exploded. Steam and chunks
of red-hot iron blasted upward through the center of the boat. The
explosive force shattered the support structures of the main and cabin
decks as if they were toothpicks. Within a moment, both decks had
collapsed behind the main stairway in the center of the boat. A
gaping hole replaced the staterooms and cabin area above the boilers.
Surrounding the hole, the cabin deck's broken floorboards slanted
toward the fireboxes left exposed after the boilers exploded. The
Sultana's two chimneys, robbed of their support, toppled and crashed
onto the hurricane deck. Hundreds of men on the collapsed cabin and
smashed hurricane decks slid toward and then dropped into the
fireboxes' blazing coals."
Nobody can describe a marine catastrophe quite like Sally
M. Walker. Back in 2012, when this blog was close to its first
birthday, we discovered her Blizzard Of Glass. We learned that the
largest pre atomic bomb man made explosion happened in Canada in 1917
in Halifax Harbor when a freighter carrying explosive cargo for the
war in Europe collided with another ship. (If you want to read more I
posted that review July 17th of that year.) Sinking The Sultana takes
readers to an earlier war, the Civil War to be exact. As in Blizzard
Of Glass, Walker makes a too little known tragedy come to life through
vivid description, skillful interweaving of narrative and backstory,
and the experiences of the small group of individuals readers are most
vividly introduced to.
It was April 27, 1865. The Civil War had just ended. The
assassination of President Lincoln had sent America into shock. Still
wrapping up the military post conflict loose ends had to be done.
Prison camps like the notorious Andersonville were filled beyond
their capacity with men who had somehow survived battle, exposure,
starvation, parasites, and disease--men who now had to be returned to
their homes and families. To one group, these gaunt, traumatized
veterans, desperate for freedom and a normal life with loved ones,
were potentials for profit. Owners of steamboats (then relatively
new, state-of-the-art river transportation) knew that the more of
these men one could pack on board, the higher the profit.
The Sultana had been built in Ohio in 1862. Considered then
quite luxurious in accomodations, she was licensed to carry 376
passengers. Although nobody knows how many people traveled on her
final voyage, estimates are in the vicinity of two thousand. Days
earlier a bulge had developed in one of her boilers. A professional
boilermaker had recommended extensive repairs. Delay could have
resulted in other steamboats hauling the suddenly profitable soldiers.
Only a temporary repair was made.
More lives were lost than when the Titanic hit an iceberg forty-
seven years later. But Walker cautions against viewing the sinking of
the Sultana as of purely historical interest. Similar elements--civil
war, desperation and people who profit from it, and horrendously
crowded watercraft--doom too many of today's refugees. Her last
paragraph challenges us all.
"History and research are all about making connections. Each
time a person discovers the Sultana's story--even though it may be
many years after the disaster--a connection is established between
that person and the people who were on the boat. Maybe the Sultana
connection will motivate that person to help a victim who has suffered
a recent disaster. Maybe it will give someone the courage to protest
against an unethical situation, an unfair business practice, or an
action that exhibits questionable safety. Recognizing and acting in
these cases makes the Sultana relevant for people today. Perhaps that
is the best way we can honor the memory of those who died on the
Sultana."
Let's forge those connections!
On a personal note, I am having a fantastic weekend! I have so much
going on I'm a day late posting this. Friday was the first day of
Clean Sweep. People were stuffing bags with clothes. Stuff was
flying off the tables. We ended up taking in $5,400. I ran the
clothes section. I gave stuffed animals to cute kids who behaved and
mints to adults who looked like they were waiting patiently for
friends. The second day I kept trying to give away a humungous ugly
Christmas sweater. Everyone said it looked better on me. I guess if
there's a contest in December I have a guaranteed win. I don't know
what the total ended up but I wouldn't be surprised if we hit $6,000.
Lisa bought us all Family Dog take out both days. I got lots of
clothes, school supplies, and other totally cool stuff including the
most comfy chair ever, perfect for me and Joey cat. Today I went on a
drive with Eugene and he got us subs for lunch.
A great big shout out goes out to my clean sweep crew, our benevolent
boss, Lisa, and the customers who laid their money down.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Thursday, May 24, 2018
The Shed That Fed A Million Children
The Shed That Fed A Million Children
Adult nonfiction
"We all agreed that the vision for Mary's Meals should be for
every child to receive a daily meal in their place of education.
Clearly there was a lot of work ahead of us. We just had to decide
where to begin."
Take a few minutes to think on school lunches as aspirational.
It's probably hard to imagine. Many of us have fond or not so fond
memories of cafeteria sloppy joes, burgers, and meat loaf, not to
mention plenty of jello, washed down by cartons of milk. Many of us
sent or are sending in lunch money and packing sandwiches and sides
when what's on the menu isn't a child's cup of tea.
In his The Shed That Fed A Million Children Magnus McFarlane-
Barrow takes us into a world where starving doesn't mean an hour until
dinner or nothing "good" in the fridge. There are no refrigerators,
electricity, or running water in the simple one room huts he's
visited. Bad harvests mean literally nothing to eat. Tribal warfare
can mean returning to a ruined home and weed choked fields to start
anew...maybe for the second or third time.
After years of raising money for and delivering goods to
impoverished and war-torn nations, Magnus had a visionary idea.
Perhaps children who had a meal at school would gain the nutrients
they needed to grow and thrive and the skills to support themselves in
the future. That was the inspiration for Mary's Meals, an
organization that provides over a million children on four continents
with daily meals. This seemingly simple program has drawn children to
school and improved attendence and achievement.
The Shed That Fed A Million Children is the fascinating story
behind this program. It's a must read these days when hopeful news is
so hard to find.
What do you take for granted that others are in need of? You
don't have to launch a movement. If all of us do community
volunteering or activism it will make a huge difference.
On a personal note, we're almost done getting Clean Sweep ready. All
the merchandise is in place. Today we're marking prices. Tomorrow we
open the doors to a mob of bargain seekers. Community garden is
looking beautiful. I am so happy to once again be playing in the
dirt. This year we're adding the little herb garden I wanted.
A great big shout out goes out to my clean sweep crew, the customers
whose purchasing will help finance Bodwell Center projects including
the student food pantry, and my this year's community garden family.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"We all agreed that the vision for Mary's Meals should be for
every child to receive a daily meal in their place of education.
Clearly there was a lot of work ahead of us. We just had to decide
where to begin."
Take a few minutes to think on school lunches as aspirational.
It's probably hard to imagine. Many of us have fond or not so fond
memories of cafeteria sloppy joes, burgers, and meat loaf, not to
mention plenty of jello, washed down by cartons of milk. Many of us
sent or are sending in lunch money and packing sandwiches and sides
when what's on the menu isn't a child's cup of tea.
In his The Shed That Fed A Million Children Magnus McFarlane-
Barrow takes us into a world where starving doesn't mean an hour until
dinner or nothing "good" in the fridge. There are no refrigerators,
electricity, or running water in the simple one room huts he's
visited. Bad harvests mean literally nothing to eat. Tribal warfare
can mean returning to a ruined home and weed choked fields to start
anew...maybe for the second or third time.
After years of raising money for and delivering goods to
impoverished and war-torn nations, Magnus had a visionary idea.
Perhaps children who had a meal at school would gain the nutrients
they needed to grow and thrive and the skills to support themselves in
the future. That was the inspiration for Mary's Meals, an
organization that provides over a million children on four continents
with daily meals. This seemingly simple program has drawn children to
school and improved attendence and achievement.
The Shed That Fed A Million Children is the fascinating story
behind this program. It's a must read these days when hopeful news is
so hard to find.
What do you take for granted that others are in need of? You
don't have to launch a movement. If all of us do community
volunteering or activism it will make a huge difference.
On a personal note, we're almost done getting Clean Sweep ready. All
the merchandise is in place. Today we're marking prices. Tomorrow we
open the doors to a mob of bargain seekers. Community garden is
looking beautiful. I am so happy to once again be playing in the
dirt. This year we're adding the little herb garden I wanted.
A great big shout out goes out to my clean sweep crew, the customers
whose purchasing will help finance Bodwell Center projects including
the student food pantry, and my this year's community garden family.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
Give It Up!
Give It Up!
Adult nonfiction
"One morning, while trying to decide which pair of shoes to
wear, I was behind schedule and was clearly going to be late for
work. To make matters worse, while reaching for my black sling backs,
an avalanch of designer shoe boxes hit me squarely on the head. For
some people, a subtle signal can lead them to a change in life; others
need a stronger message. In my case, it was being literally hit over
the head with my own shoes. This was my wake-up call."
Mary Carlomagno, author of Give It Up!, had hit a point where
she felt that something was missing. Her life was too complicated by
a plethora of distractions. Nothing really satisfied her. She read
the entire newspaper to be up on water cooler conversation topics
rather than out of curiosity. Shopping was getting way out of hand.
It was time for a change.
Carlomagno was familiar with the concept of Lent. As a child
she'd regularly given up candy or soda. She wondered if she could
give up some of the things that seemed so necessary in her life.
"...Would it be possible to live without a hundred boxes of designer
shoes, costly microbrewed coffee, or the ever present cell phone that
fueled my everyday existence?"
Carlomagno embarked on a year of Lents--12 to be exact. Each
month she temporarily gave up something chosen to move herself out of
her comfort zone and force herself to really look at her life. Her
experiences form the substance of the book.
Give It Up!, however, is more than a description of
deprivation. Each chapter yields thoughtful insight. The month she
gave up alcohol, after being startled by how much her social life
revolved around booze, she became more confident of her decision
making and able to say no when appropriate. A moritorium on shopping
led her to do so only when necessary. Giving up tv helped her
discover more creative alternatives. She ended up feeling privileged
rather than martyred.
Give It Up! is a very worthwhile read even if you lead a very
different life style. (The majority of my social life, for example,
revolves around UMaine campus activities and involves nothing harder
than cranberry punch. My shopping is all thrifts and yard sales. And
television doesn't tempt me in the least.) Give it a try. You might
discover aspects of your life you want to tweak.
On a personal note, I'm enjoying my Clean Sweep break. Yesterday I
decided to tackle all the bags and boxes of food that were donated.
Bodwell Center runs Clean Sweep. They're the go to people for
connecting students with campus and community volunteer
opportunities. They also operate the Black Bear Exchange which is a
clothing exchange and food pantry. Sadly in this country there are
rising numbers of homeless and food insecure students. You can't just
put any old food on the shelves. Containers can't have been opened.
And food can't be past its expiration date. Looking for those little
numbers is time consuming. So I sorted the good stuff, tossed the bad
stuff, and organized snacks that were safe but didn't meet standards
into a snack bar for my coworkers and me. True confession: I took
some of the candy home. Plus a bag of lollipops and three boxes of
gum for the neighborhood kids.
A great big shout out goes out to my Clean Sweep coworkers and our
peerless boss, Lisa Morin.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"One morning, while trying to decide which pair of shoes to
wear, I was behind schedule and was clearly going to be late for
work. To make matters worse, while reaching for my black sling backs,
an avalanch of designer shoe boxes hit me squarely on the head. For
some people, a subtle signal can lead them to a change in life; others
need a stronger message. In my case, it was being literally hit over
the head with my own shoes. This was my wake-up call."
Mary Carlomagno, author of Give It Up!, had hit a point where
she felt that something was missing. Her life was too complicated by
a plethora of distractions. Nothing really satisfied her. She read
the entire newspaper to be up on water cooler conversation topics
rather than out of curiosity. Shopping was getting way out of hand.
It was time for a change.
Carlomagno was familiar with the concept of Lent. As a child
she'd regularly given up candy or soda. She wondered if she could
give up some of the things that seemed so necessary in her life.
"...Would it be possible to live without a hundred boxes of designer
shoes, costly microbrewed coffee, or the ever present cell phone that
fueled my everyday existence?"
Carlomagno embarked on a year of Lents--12 to be exact. Each
month she temporarily gave up something chosen to move herself out of
her comfort zone and force herself to really look at her life. Her
experiences form the substance of the book.
Give It Up!, however, is more than a description of
deprivation. Each chapter yields thoughtful insight. The month she
gave up alcohol, after being startled by how much her social life
revolved around booze, she became more confident of her decision
making and able to say no when appropriate. A moritorium on shopping
led her to do so only when necessary. Giving up tv helped her
discover more creative alternatives. She ended up feeling privileged
rather than martyred.
Give It Up! is a very worthwhile read even if you lead a very
different life style. (The majority of my social life, for example,
revolves around UMaine campus activities and involves nothing harder
than cranberry punch. My shopping is all thrifts and yard sales. And
television doesn't tempt me in the least.) Give it a try. You might
discover aspects of your life you want to tweak.
On a personal note, I'm enjoying my Clean Sweep break. Yesterday I
decided to tackle all the bags and boxes of food that were donated.
Bodwell Center runs Clean Sweep. They're the go to people for
connecting students with campus and community volunteer
opportunities. They also operate the Black Bear Exchange which is a
clothing exchange and food pantry. Sadly in this country there are
rising numbers of homeless and food insecure students. You can't just
put any old food on the shelves. Containers can't have been opened.
And food can't be past its expiration date. Looking for those little
numbers is time consuming. So I sorted the good stuff, tossed the bad
stuff, and organized snacks that were safe but didn't meet standards
into a snack bar for my coworkers and me. True confession: I took
some of the candy home. Plus a bag of lollipops and three boxes of
gum for the neighborhood kids.
A great big shout out goes out to my Clean Sweep coworkers and our
peerless boss, Lisa Morin.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Sunday, May 20, 2018
The Power Of Half
The Power Of Half
YA/adult nonfiction
"Our family is a fairly typical Atlanta foursome: two baby
boomers (Joan and Kevin) and two teenagers (Hannah and Joseph). Our
days consist of the standard American life--school, work, and youth
sports. For more than a decade we aspired to the usual "stuff": new
cars, a spacious home, nice vacations. Sure, we took on the
occasional volunteer activity, feeding the homeless and building
Habitat For Humanity houses, but largely we were consumed by our own
careers and enhancing our lifestyle through bigger, newer, better. We
were focussed on us."
Reading the first paragraph of Kevin and Hannah Salwen's The
Power of Half, you know two things. Their family is doing peachy keen
by contemporary American standards. Things are about to change
drastically.
One night Joan was driving Hannah, then 14, home from a
sleepover. When they paused at a stoplight Hannah juxtaposed two
images: those of a homeless guy and a man driving a Mercedes coupe.
Perhaps if the Mercedes man had a less posh car the homeless man could
have a meal. But it wasn't just a too bad, so sad moment. The
sadness and anger stuck with her.
A few days after the incident Hannah announced that she wanted
her family to become a family that actually did things instead of
talking about doing things. Joan decided to test her commitment.
Would she be so eager if an action involved giving up her own
possessions? She suggested they sell their humungous house, move into
one half the size, and give the left over money to charity.
Hannah signed on immediately.
That's what they ended up doing.
There were snags. The house took longer to sell than they'd
anticipated, so for quite awhile the family was paying upkeep on two
houses. Picking a charity and a way to get involved took them way out
of their comfort zone. But they persisted and, in addition to making
a difference in the world, became stronger and more unified as a family.
My favorite part of the book is Hannah's additions to each
chapter. Addressed to peers, they give really good suggestions for
getting self and family involved in volunteering and activism...
...even if you have far fewer material resources than the
Salwens. Eugene and I raised our kids in a trailer park. But I
immersed our kids in volunteering and activism from the beginning. I
have very fond memories of taking the kids on the overnight buses from
Maine to DC to war protests with a bag of snack food to sustain us.
One year for Mothers Day they and their friends organized a protest
with signs against the war along Route Two in front of where we
lived. They have grown up to be involved, empathic, and very good
people.
On a purrrrsonal (Joey cat is beside me singing his love song) note, I
had an AWESOME weekend. Amber held her birthday party Saturday. All
3 kids and their significant others were there. The theme was
Goosebumps, a family favorite series. I spent so many precious hours
reading the books over and over to the girls. When we did the choose
your own ending ones Amber always had me choose. The decor was
perfect, starting with the elaborate graveyard in the front yard.
Amber had written her own Goosebumps choose your own ending book: #1
THE CURSE OF THE BEWITCHED BIRTHDAY PARTY. She read it to us and had
us choose at all the decision points. Brian did some dramatic acting
as a wizard. We also had other games and picture taking against a
very dramatic backdrop. The party food was all delish. (I suspect
Amber may share some of her party awesomeness techniques in the near
future. Http://amberscraftaweek.blogspot.com)
After the party Katie and Jacob stopped by for a nice visit on their
way back to Portland. Joey cat was SO HAPPY to see Katie again and to
meet Jacob.
Then today we had flower communion at church. The Sunday school
joined the choir. I got to be one of the lilac dancers. People took
lovely spring flowers home. Who could ask for more?
A great big shout out goes out to Amber and Brian (the hosts with
most), my dear growing family, and my church family with whom I
celebrated. Special congratulations to Pastor Steve (Orono United
Methodist) for achieving his PhD and his talented wife, Judy, without
whom attaining the degree would have been a lot more challenging.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
YA/adult nonfiction
"Our family is a fairly typical Atlanta foursome: two baby
boomers (Joan and Kevin) and two teenagers (Hannah and Joseph). Our
days consist of the standard American life--school, work, and youth
sports. For more than a decade we aspired to the usual "stuff": new
cars, a spacious home, nice vacations. Sure, we took on the
occasional volunteer activity, feeding the homeless and building
Habitat For Humanity houses, but largely we were consumed by our own
careers and enhancing our lifestyle through bigger, newer, better. We
were focussed on us."
Reading the first paragraph of Kevin and Hannah Salwen's The
Power of Half, you know two things. Their family is doing peachy keen
by contemporary American standards. Things are about to change
drastically.
One night Joan was driving Hannah, then 14, home from a
sleepover. When they paused at a stoplight Hannah juxtaposed two
images: those of a homeless guy and a man driving a Mercedes coupe.
Perhaps if the Mercedes man had a less posh car the homeless man could
have a meal. But it wasn't just a too bad, so sad moment. The
sadness and anger stuck with her.
A few days after the incident Hannah announced that she wanted
her family to become a family that actually did things instead of
talking about doing things. Joan decided to test her commitment.
Would she be so eager if an action involved giving up her own
possessions? She suggested they sell their humungous house, move into
one half the size, and give the left over money to charity.
Hannah signed on immediately.
That's what they ended up doing.
There were snags. The house took longer to sell than they'd
anticipated, so for quite awhile the family was paying upkeep on two
houses. Picking a charity and a way to get involved took them way out
of their comfort zone. But they persisted and, in addition to making
a difference in the world, became stronger and more unified as a family.
My favorite part of the book is Hannah's additions to each
chapter. Addressed to peers, they give really good suggestions for
getting self and family involved in volunteering and activism...
...even if you have far fewer material resources than the
Salwens. Eugene and I raised our kids in a trailer park. But I
immersed our kids in volunteering and activism from the beginning. I
have very fond memories of taking the kids on the overnight buses from
Maine to DC to war protests with a bag of snack food to sustain us.
One year for Mothers Day they and their friends organized a protest
with signs against the war along Route Two in front of where we
lived. They have grown up to be involved, empathic, and very good
people.
On a purrrrsonal (Joey cat is beside me singing his love song) note, I
had an AWESOME weekend. Amber held her birthday party Saturday. All
3 kids and their significant others were there. The theme was
Goosebumps, a family favorite series. I spent so many precious hours
reading the books over and over to the girls. When we did the choose
your own ending ones Amber always had me choose. The decor was
perfect, starting with the elaborate graveyard in the front yard.
Amber had written her own Goosebumps choose your own ending book: #1
THE CURSE OF THE BEWITCHED BIRTHDAY PARTY. She read it to us and had
us choose at all the decision points. Brian did some dramatic acting
as a wizard. We also had other games and picture taking against a
very dramatic backdrop. The party food was all delish. (I suspect
Amber may share some of her party awesomeness techniques in the near
future. Http://amberscraftaweek.blogspot.com)
After the party Katie and Jacob stopped by for a nice visit on their
way back to Portland. Joey cat was SO HAPPY to see Katie again and to
meet Jacob.
Then today we had flower communion at church. The Sunday school
joined the choir. I got to be one of the lilac dancers. People took
lovely spring flowers home. Who could ask for more?
A great big shout out goes out to Amber and Brian (the hosts with
most), my dear growing family, and my church family with whom I
celebrated. Special congratulations to Pastor Steve (Orono United
Methodist) for achieving his PhD and his talented wife, Judy, without
whom attaining the degree would have been a lot more challenging.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Friday, May 18, 2018
Daring To Drive
Daring To Drive
Adult nonfiction
"The secret police came for me at two in the morning. The
second knock on the door quickly followed the first. They were loud,
hard knocks, the kind that radiate out and shake the door frame. My
five-year-old son was asleep, but I was awake still, sitting up with
my brother."
Those knocks on the door were the beginning of a real life
nightmare for Manal al-Sharif. After interrogations during which she
was not allowed to have her brother present she found herself in a
filthy, cockroach infested prison, unable to contact family members or
anyone who could potentially rescue her.
"It turned out that I didn't need to call anyone in my family to
let them know where I had gone. The newspaper, the television, the
radio, and the Internet had already done it for me. By the time I'd
fallen asleep, all of Saudi Arabia knew that Manal al-Sharif, the
woman who drove, was in jail."
That was the crime Manal was jailed for--driving: not driving
under the influence of drugs or alcohol, not driving to endanger, but
driving while female. If you're asking, "What kind of nation can do
that?" you must read her Daring To Drive. I guarantee this memoir
will be an eye opener right from the beginning.
"I was born on the floor of our cramped apartment in the city of
Mecca on April 25, 1979. My mother was alone, except for my older
sister, who was barely much more than a toddler herself. My father
had been out when she went into labor, and under Saudi rules and
customs, my mother could not be admitted without a male guardian or a
mahram to accompany her to the hospital. There were no exceptions.
She couldn't even call for help because our apartment had no phone."
Seriously!
If I was to list all Manal had to endure because of her gender,
this review would well exceed anyone's attention span. I guess you'll
have to read the book yourself. If you're a feminist you'll really
want to.
On a personal note, yesterday was my first work day at the UMaine
cafeteria system. I helped make sandwiches. Everyone I was working
with seemed really nice. After I got off work I went over to Alfond
(ice hockey) Arena to work on Clean Sweep, the yard sale all other
yard sales wish they were. The rest of this week and all of next week
that's what I'll be up to. My vacation summer camp. In a few minutes
I'll be grabbing the bus to campus.
A great big shout out goes out to my new work family and my clean
sweep crew.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"The secret police came for me at two in the morning. The
second knock on the door quickly followed the first. They were loud,
hard knocks, the kind that radiate out and shake the door frame. My
five-year-old son was asleep, but I was awake still, sitting up with
my brother."
Those knocks on the door were the beginning of a real life
nightmare for Manal al-Sharif. After interrogations during which she
was not allowed to have her brother present she found herself in a
filthy, cockroach infested prison, unable to contact family members or
anyone who could potentially rescue her.
"It turned out that I didn't need to call anyone in my family to
let them know where I had gone. The newspaper, the television, the
radio, and the Internet had already done it for me. By the time I'd
fallen asleep, all of Saudi Arabia knew that Manal al-Sharif, the
woman who drove, was in jail."
That was the crime Manal was jailed for--driving: not driving
under the influence of drugs or alcohol, not driving to endanger, but
driving while female. If you're asking, "What kind of nation can do
that?" you must read her Daring To Drive. I guarantee this memoir
will be an eye opener right from the beginning.
"I was born on the floor of our cramped apartment in the city of
Mecca on April 25, 1979. My mother was alone, except for my older
sister, who was barely much more than a toddler herself. My father
had been out when she went into labor, and under Saudi rules and
customs, my mother could not be admitted without a male guardian or a
mahram to accompany her to the hospital. There were no exceptions.
She couldn't even call for help because our apartment had no phone."
Seriously!
If I was to list all Manal had to endure because of her gender,
this review would well exceed anyone's attention span. I guess you'll
have to read the book yourself. If you're a feminist you'll really
want to.
On a personal note, yesterday was my first work day at the UMaine
cafeteria system. I helped make sandwiches. Everyone I was working
with seemed really nice. After I got off work I went over to Alfond
(ice hockey) Arena to work on Clean Sweep, the yard sale all other
yard sales wish they were. The rest of this week and all of next week
that's what I'll be up to. My vacation summer camp. In a few minutes
I'll be grabbing the bus to campus.
A great big shout out goes out to my new work family and my clean
sweep crew.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
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