November Inventory

Reading A Secret History, Tartt's first novel.  Or about to.  It's waiting for me at the library!!!

Wondering if Miss Bit will make it through the day.  She has been fighting a cold, and woke up feeling punky this morning.  I gave her the option of staying home today, but she told me she doesn't like to miss school because she misses too many concepts.  When the phone rang a little bit ago, it was her.  I thought she was throwing in the towel, but she just needed me to bring her folder that had ALL her work in it STAT. 

Noticing the way my thighs ache after time spent working in the yard this weekend.  Usually, I welcome that kind of pain, but it made me realize that my redundant workouts have been exercising the same muscles at the expense of others.

Watching less.  I've been doing more reading, but have still managed to tune in for Master Chef Junior with Miss Bit and Californication while I workout.  It is edgy and if not for the fact that Hank Moody is a struggling writer, I may have moved on.  I don't know what I was expecting  with that title and all.  Plays again too.  This weekend we have tickets for Grease.

Listening to the freezing rain repel off the window panes.  It sounds like our house is under attack, and has my boys unsettled.  Jazz Christmas on Pandora.  Freezing rain is almost snow so it is a natural choice.  I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas was the first song.  Coincidence?  Or perhaps, plan?

Eating leftover frittata.  Coach has this one mastered.  More takeout and eating out than usual after the demise of our ovens.

Drinking coffee with cinnamon cream, water and pinot noirs in that order.

Dreaming about my Mom more often than usual.  She appears strong and healthy, but I know she is sick.  They are happy sad.  Bittersweet.

Feeling fragile and unpredictable.  Well, more like moody because from day to day I know exactly how I'm going to feel.  Mondays I'm exhausted and uninspired, Tuesdays I'm introspective and enlightened, and on Wednesdays and Thursdays I feel optimistic, energized and focused.  Then by Friday I'm ready to call it a week and retreat.  Saturdays I wake feeling happy and hopeful.  Sundays are always a bit of a wild card. 

Wanting to stop wanting.  This is the season of excess in every aspect of life, and I have a hard time reconciling what has become the commercialization of Christmas with what I know to be the true and everlasting meaning of this season.  I find myself buying too much stuff and giving too little of myself, trying to keep up and quench this insatiable appetite for more more more.  It doesn't feel good or right.

Wearing my new jeans that I love, love, love with suede tennis shoes and scarfs.

Hoping that the new wardrobe of pants we bought T. Bone over the weekend fits for a few months.  He's a head taller than me now at 5' 6" and seemingly growing taller and taller every night as he sleeps.

Thinking that if I agree to some changes at work, my life at home is going to change too.  All of life is give and take.  For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Enjoying lots of  one on one time with my husband:  a night in Kohler, a date to see James Taylor, an hour while the kids have Sunday school.

Loving the ones I'm with, the way Peanut is curled up beside me as I type, this grey day, our new microwave popcorn popper that works sans oil, the kindness my children show towards others (we're working on their kindness to one another), and the fall we have had especially as winter is on its way this afternoon.

On My Mind Monday

You can look at a picture for a week and never think of it again.  You can also look at a picture for a second and think of it all your life.

~ Joan Miro'

 

This sentiment can be adapted to apply to anything that deeply touches us: a song, a sermon, a film, a lecture, a book or poem.  It can also hold fast and true to anyone who impacts us greatly: a mentor, a friend, lover or even a stranger in passing.  I devoted several weeks to The Goldfinch, and now I cannot get it out of my mind.  Usually, a sure cure for a book hangover is to turn to a trusted, familiar author.  Saturday morning I cracked open Pat Conroy's South of Broad, which I've been saving since 2009.  Saving for just this kind of sad, seeking moment.  The protagonist, Leo, kept calling back to mind my old friend, Theo.  I just wasn't feeling it so I closed the book and spent the rest of Lily's acting class people watching.  Then I came home and ordered Tartt's first novel from the library.  I've been a stalker ever since.  I keep logging onto my library account only to see in transit. I think it should be available tomorrow.  Whew!  I think I'll shelf  South of Broad until I can give it the attention it deserves.

2 day pass

this weekend was as they should all be: relaxed, restorative, and also productive and entertaining.
as i sat surveying the weekend ahead friday and then looking back at the time passed today,
it dawned on me in moments of panic that this type of go with the flow weekend is in short supply.
the holidays loom large with lists and events and i'm just not so sure how i feel about that.
i am first and foremost a human being, not a human doing.
the constant coming and going wears on me.
i need my downtime, some peace and quiet, and to be able to turn off.
i also need some wiggle room.
it is such a pleasure to be able to say: hey, let's go to a play tonight, or i think we should go out for pizza for dinner, or let's go to the public market for coffee.
there is nothing better than saying: i think i'll just read for an hour or two, or take a cat nap or a long walk.
i don't mean to mislead...i love all of it: thanksgiving, christmas and new years too, but...but time please slow down.
what is the hurry?

minus ted, who was tired from his day off at the trampoline park, we headed to the theatre friday night to see evermore.
it's a dark tale chronicling the mysterious end of edgar allen poe's life.
while it kept our attention, we were eager for the end.
that does not point to a raving review.
that being said, i am always humbled and awed by the level of talent the young actors display.
at the end of a miscellaneous saturday, we met family for pizza to celebrate november birthdays.
happy happy to my amazing mother in law and her amazing son, my husband!
we were up early for church on sunday, which meant we were in our pew with time to spare.
after another day of odds and ends, we gathered at my brother and sil's for a delicious italian feast first beside the roaring (and at times, smoking) fire and then the television to cheer on the packers.
the victory dance we were doing at the end of the game was fueled by much more than the score.
cuz' here's the thing...we all won this weekend.

Grateful Friday

Today I give thanks for...

T. Bone earned an award for his contributions to his football team.  About him the Coach said, One of the most prideful awards in 2014 is the Hustle and Effort Award.  For this award, you want to find a player who takes pride in his work, someone who not only leaves it all on the field, but learns from his mistakes and makes an effort to get better.  You never have to tell this player that he needs to step it up or to move quickly.  Part-time quarterback, frequent running back and linebacker Teddy W. is more than deserving of this award.

Pasta Bolognese. 

 This little pasta eating pro.

She's quite accomplished at chicken tenders too.  We enjoyed a GNO this week, and it really felt special to be going out for dinner just the two of us on a Monday night.
 

James Taylor.  Mike and I may have been the youngest concert attendees, but we enjoyed the show immensely.  Especially, his opening number Something in the Way She Moves, and also Mexico and How Sweet it is to be Loved by You.
 

I finished The Goldfinch, and I'm grateful that I have The Secret History, Tartt's first novel, still to look forward to.

St. Vincent.  Mike and I saw it last weekend, and while we both agreed that The Judge was a much better film, we enjoyed this one too.  I was especially impressed by Jaeden Lieberher who played Oliver, and surprised that Melissa McCarthy didn't grate on me as she usually does.

The comfort of distance.

A start to my Christmas shopping this week.

Evenfall and day break.  None of us particularly love daylight savings, but the lighter mornings do help us ease out of bed on chilly mornings.  Night setting in earlier is perfect for cozy nights at home too.
 

Kettle chip crusted walleye.
 

Tickets tonight to see Nevermore at the high school.

Wine and cheese with Jess last night.

A relatively low key weekend ahead.



The Goldfinch

A great sorrow, and one that I am only beginning to understand: we don't get to choose our own hearts.  We can't make ourselves want what's good for us or what's good for other people.  We don't get to choose the people that we are.

-The Goldfinch

Sadly, I turned the last page of The Goldfinch this morning.  It was long...771 pages long, and yet I wanted longer.  Mine is not a unanimous position, but I feel that more is more where Tartt's third novel is concerned.  I appreciated the Dickensian flair that permeated this 21st century bildungsroman.  Certainly, Theo is part Oliver Twist and part David Copperfield, and Boris bears a strong likeness to the Artful Dodger. These characters felt like old friends; flawed, but lovable, and destined to get exactly what they deserve.  That is signature Dickens.  Coincidence?  Cruel fate?  Is there a difference?  And does it matter?  Either way we trudge on day after day until we don't so we may as well find some joy, beauty, meaning as we toil into descent.  Or rather liberation.  Freedom?  A freedom we will all receive when it is our fate.

The Goldfinch is a polarizing novel.  It seems that readers and critics alike either love it or loathe it.  I am in the yea camp.  To get my endorsement a novel must do four things. It must entertain me, make me think, inspire me and make me feel something about the human character/condition.  It succeeded on every count most likely because I am not usually a classic's consumer, yet I also don't want to waste my time on genre fiction.  I felt that The Goldfinch was the perfect combination of entertainment and education.

On My Mind Monday

Every year we have been

witness to it: how the

world descends

 

into rich mash, in order that

it may resume.

And therefore

who would cry out

 

to the petals on the ground

to stay,

knowing as we must,

how the vivacity of what was is married

 

to the vitality of what will be?

I don't say

it's easy, but

what else will do

 

if the love one claims for the world be true?

 

So let us go on, cheerfully enough,

this and every crisping day,

 

though the sun be swinging east,

and the ponds be cold and black,

and the sweets of the year be doomed.

 

LINES WRITTEN IN THE DAYS OF GROWING DARKNESS

- Mary Oliver

 

 

 

Oh, October...you'll be dearly missed.

2 day pass

the special part of the weekend was a trip to the american club.

mike and i drove up midday saturday.

heading north the bright shining sun made farm field after farm field appear perfectly gilded.

we are a few weeks past peak, so most branches are bare and bony, but still the landscape left me breathless.

we made a couple stops along the way on one whim or another.

first for a beer and the badger game, and then for popcorn and a matinee.

we arrived in kohler with enough time to do a little shopping.

and to have happy hour before our 8 o'clock dinner reserves.

we were looking forward to our celebration at river wildlife.

everything about the log cabin is perfect...

the way it's set in the woods, the way you are greeted by a big roaring fire, the dark, quiet intimacy of the tables set in nooks and crannies and, of course, the fare.

we both started with the cider duck soup.

so few ingredients (duck, wild rice, cabbage and cranberry beans), yet rich in flavor.

the salad of winter greens, roasted pumpkin, dried cherries, cranberry stilton and pepitas topped with a warm bacon dressing was just as perfect a combo.

i barely had room for my kettle chip crusted walleye, but somehow i managed.

mike enjoyed his perfectly cooked tenderloin too.

fall back left us awake what felt like early on sunday.

we enjoyed a slow morning of coffee and crosswords, and breakfast in bed before hitting the trails.

it was a warm, sweaty hike sandwiched between the river and blackwolf run.

we shared a great little getaway...just the two of us for 24 hours doing things we enjoy in a place we love.
happy anniversary love.