Amelia Earhart and Twins

Oh, I’ve been negligent about blogging.

Here’s a quick post about today.  Lucy did a biography book report and had to dress as her subject and make a speech.  (I will not mention how we walked to school and I was planning to stay to watch her speech, and she realized she forgot her index cards and I had to sprint home to get them.  We won’t even mention the motherly sacrifice and effort.)

She did awesome.  I have such tender feelings toward this girl-turning-young-lady of mine.  I don’t often blog about her, because it feels a little different writing details about a person who can read and comprehend a lot and may not want the whole world to know every detail of her existence.  But this girl is gold.

Today was also “Twin Day” at school.  Here is Phoebe and her friend.  So cute.  I really like my children a lot. It’s strange and wonderful to see how they are growing up.

The Lion and The Lamb

This is the Bruno family version of the Lion and the Lamb, a.k.a. our dog Piper and our guinea pig Ebony.  Piper is just the nicest gentle giant mutt you can imagine, and he has been a bit lonely since the demise of Crisp.  Remember Crisp?  The cat who snuggled up to Piper and let Piper nibble his belly in a most affectionate (and occasionally disturbing) way?  Well, our other cat keeps an aloof distance from Piper, but Bridget has recently allowed Ebony the guinea pig some closer proximity to Piper.  Heavily supervised of course, because we all know that animal instincts can kick in quickly, and a child traumatized by the violent death of her guinea pig is not something I’m in the mood to take on these days.  But Piper seems to be maintaining his self-control and giving Ebony a bit of loving and snuzzling.  Warms the heart, for sure!

Recommendation: The Days Gone By; Songs of the American Poets

I bought this CD years ago when Lucy was a toddler, and it has become an annual family tradition to listen to it each autumn.   I love this CD.

I’ve never been a big poetry person.  I think part of the reason is, poetry is better when spoken aloud, not on the printed page.  So, when I read poetry in a book, it usually doesn’t do much for me.  But poetry set to music – well, that’s a brilliant idea!  And these songs work as poetry should work on a person – bringing a person to a greater appreciation of their humanity and creation around them.

As the editorial review on Amazon reads:  “The Days Gone By, a country- and bluegrass-leaning collection… expertly evokes the image-rich landscapes and fanciful musings of five great American poets.”  Couldn’t have said it better myself, so I, uh, didn’t.   I will tell you, though, that those poets are  Emily Dickinson, Eugene Field, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Edgar Allan Poe, and James Whitcomb Riley.

Here’s a snippet of the poem from the title piece:

O the days gone by! O the days gone by!

The music of the laughing lip, the luster of the eye;

The childish faith in fairies, and Aladdin’s magic ring—

The simple, soul-reposing, glad belief in everything,—

When life was like a story, holding neither sob nor sigh,

In the golden olden glory of the days gone by.

My other favorite in this collection is the last piece – Some Time.  Oh, it is tender and sweet.  A father loving on a child and thinking ahead to the woes and griefs that child will know in life, and urging a sense of consolation because of his deep

love for the child.  Sends shivers down my spine every time.

Since it’s now October, I got this CD out and have been listening to it, even though the frost is most definitely not on the punkins around here.  Hot, dry, Santa Ana winds.  But I pop this CD in, and am instantly transported to an autumn

world of color and beauty, and poetry.  Give it a try; I highly recommend it!

A Prince Caspian moment

Phoebe, our eight-year-old, resisted having me read The Chronicles of Narnia aloud to her for years.  I kept suggesting it, and she refused.  I think her reluctance was two-fold.  First, she was afraid that they would be too scary for her.  (She is fairly sensitive and does not care for danger/suspense too much.)  The other reason (in my opinion) is because one of the main character’s names is Lucy, something her older sister Lucy liked to flaunt mention whenever the topic arose.

Well, Phoebe finally gave in, and I read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe to her and Bridget. Lucy drifted in and out of storytime, because, let’s be honest: who can resist hearing a good story, even if you have read it before and know what’s going to happen?

The girls loved the story, naturally. So we moved on to Prince Caspian. I’ve read these stories several times in my life, and so have most people, so I’m not going to give a full review.  But there is one moment that jumped out at me, which just never caught my attention before.

It is after the battles have been fought and Miraz is dead and the Telmarine soldiers are locked up for the night and the celebrating begins.  The bonfire is lit and the creatures of Narnia are all dancing and singing and feasting and frolicking.  And here is the passage:

“The best thing of all about this feast was that there was no breaking up or going away, but as the talk grew quieter and slower, one after another would begin to nod and finally drop off to sleep with feet toward the fire and good friends on either side, till at last there was silence all round the circle, and the chattering of water over stone at the Fords of Beruna could be heard once more.  But all night Aslan and the moon gazed upon each other with joyful and unblinking eyes.”

What a picture!  A great party, then quiet talking with friends around a campfire, then cozy sleep.  And the image of Aslan, never sleeping, but abiding there with them all night, full of joy and gazing at the moon.

This does something to my soul.  Longing, joy, sensucht.

It reminds me a little of a lullaby CD we listened to when the children were younger.  And one of the songs went “Close your eyes.  Drift away.  There’s no need for you to be afraid.  The whole world may be fast asleep.  But Jesus is awake.”

Twilight Zone Tailor

Today Bridget and I (and Piper our dog) walked the older girls to school.  Hot, dry Santa Ana weather here.  Blech. We are all ready for fall, but oh, well!  ‘Tis the season for heat in Southern California.

Bridget and I were trying to decided what to do today as we walked home.   I needed to run a couple of errands, but wanted to give her something fun to do as well.  So we decided to check out Bird Haven in downtown Escondido.  Just having acquired three parakeets last week, our family is all about birds right now.  So we went.  And we saw birds.  And we heard birds.  (In fact, Bridget kept covering her ears as those big, loud macaws screeched.)

All in all, the Bird Haven was a fun outing.

On to the other errands: I had brought along a pair of shorts of Lucy’s that has a busted zipper, thinking I could get the zipper replaced.  And what did I notice, two doors down from Bird Haven?  A tailor’s shop, with a sign proclaiming “fine Italian tailoring.”  We marched right in.

An old, old man greeted us at the door and ushered us into his shop.  I couldn’t help but notice the large crumbs of food on his lips.  He had a thick Italian accent.   The shop itself was tiny, and made to feel tinier still by the huge piles of books and videotapes surrounding an old couch and work table.  I felt a little claustrophobic, and a little freaked out.

I tried to explain about the zipper.  The man grabbed the shorts and squinted at the busted zipper.  “Not worth the cost of fixing,” he proclaimed.  “Eleven dollars; pants not worth that much.”  I took back the shorts, ready to bolt out of this creepy shop.  “Wait a moment…”  he said, manuevering past a pile of boxes.  As he fumbled around looking for who knows what – a butcher knife, perhaps!? – I glanced around and saw an old tv with a black and white program playing…The Twilight Zone.

I am not kidding about this.

“This is the most surreal experience I’ve had in awhile,” I thought as Italian-tailor-man limped back over to me, crumbs and all.  He held out his hand and dropped a few candies in my hand.  I smiled weakly and thanked him, and got the heck out of there.

North! Or Be Eaten: my review

It was with some ambivalence that I picked up Andrew Peterson’s North! Or Be Eaten book, because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to be objective. You see, I really like his music, and I really wanted to like this new book in his Wingfeather Saga series.

Happily, concerns about objectivity quickly melted away when I dove into the book, and found myself really liking it, not just because I wanted to like it, but because this is a great story. In fact, towards the end of the book, I’m afraid I was a bit rude to my family as I growled, “Do not interrupt me! I’ve got to find out what happens…”

Some things I appreciated about this book:

I liked the hero’s journey in this story. In the first book, On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness, the stage was set for the Wingfeather children and the story of the Fangs’ oppressive rule of Skree. It felt a little like the same kind of adventure over and over; namely, battles with Fangs. In this book, there is movement, quest, progress. Different experiences. Some new characters, and some satisfying depth given to the ones we met in the first book. We get to see much more of Skree and Aerwiar and have a fuller sense of what is happening with its people and their tyrannical oppressors. As in all good stories, the “hero’s journey” leads us, with Janner, into exciting adventures and lessons learned along the way.

I liked the numerous chuckle-out-loud moments and crazy imaginative creatures that seem to me would be especially appealing to young male readers (although my ten-year-old daughter seems to get a kick out of them as well.) (She and I have been fighting over this book since it arrived.)

And speaking of children, North! Or Be Eaten places a high value on children. The hope of the land rests on these three children, and stories are discovered that describe the unique magical capabilities of children in Anniera before Gnag the Nameless took over. I like children, and am all about not underestimating them, so I liked this.

All in all, this book contains some intense themes of courage and loyalty while somehow staying playful and whimsical. This second installment of the Wingfeather Saga gives us more of what we liked in the first book, but with improved storytelling and a much more “epic” feel. A satisfying fantasy tale!

Getting Carried Away

On Wednesday afternoon last week, Bridget and I decided to pop some popcorn for “sisters’ after school snack.”  We popped the corn, poured the butter over the top, and salted it with our popcorn salt.  I set about cleaning the kitchen when Bridgie asked, “Could I just do one more shake of salt Mommy?”  To which I replied, “Sure.”

Well, after doing a little clean up I sampled the popcorn.  Man, was it salty!  Like, painful-to-place-in-the-mouth salty.  I asked if Bridget had really just done one more shake, and she sheepishly admitted that she had done more than that.

I have to be honest here.  On a different day, maybe even a different hour of this day, I would have been aggravated by this.  And that aggravation would have hindered the simple joy of experiencing what happened next.

I said, “Hmm…  It looks like you got a little carried away.  Let’s start over and make a new batch.”    And we did.   And as we did, Bridget queried, “What does carried away mean?”  So I explained it.  She seemed to like the concept and the way it sounded when she said it.  “I got carried away with the salt.”  Suddenly her eyes lit up with dawning understanding and she said, “Carried away…. like the mouse in that story where he gets the cookie and he cleans the house and he gets a little carried away.”  (Remember If You Give a Mouse a Cookie ?)

Okay.  Aside from the fact that my child must be some kind of genius to recall that book and remember that the expression “carried away” was in it, I was filled up with an unexpected and unforeseen pleasure of seeing her make that connection.  It SO reinforced the need to be really present with my children.  Not just physically, but that I’m there in the moment, paying attention, taking notice.  Being slowed down enough to see.  And not even totally for their sake.  I mean, it was cool that Bridget learned a new expression and all that, but she would have learned that eventually, and we don’t need to attend every thought process made by our children’s developing minds.  But when it happens, it is such a delight for me! Such a validation of – what?  I don’t know exactly, only it was really cool to see those connections being formed in her thinking, before my very eyes.

The second batch of popcorn was much better, salted sparingly, and we all gobbled it up when the older girls got home.

Cuteness Personified

Well, here she is, my little “Pre-Kindergarten” girl.

With the tub of dinosaurs, naturally.

On the way to her first day, I asked her if I thought any of the children might be nervous for the first day.  (She seemed almost too calm and confident.)  Her reply?  “Mom, we are in Pre-K now.”

Monday Morning Musings…Oh, wait. It’s Tuesday

…Which shows the muddled state of my brain this morning.

Today is my birthday.  I am 34 years old today.  Yikes!

Bridget is sleeping in (still!) and I did something I’ve never done before: I sent the children off to school by themselves. They already walk themselves home, but I like to accompany them in the morning because, how will I know if they arrive safely?  Also, I like to think that those last minutes with Mommy will be a balm to their little spirits all day.  Delusional thinking, probably.

Speaking of “Free Range Kids” I’d like to direct readers of this blog to one of my favorite blogs: Free Range Kids.  (Clever sentence, I know.) Lenore Skenazy is hilarious.  And though this is a post from a few days ago, it’s pertinent today because today is the day of President Obama’s speech to the schoolchildren of America.  Here’s Lenore’s perspective, and I couldn’t agree more…

http://freerangekids.wordpress.com/2009/09/05/yikes-a-speech/

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

I’m back!

Oh, dear, it’s been a while since blogging.  We’ve been busy with ending summer, heading back to school, and trying to stay cool in the miserable, oppressive heat.

I am holding out hope, though, that the next week will see cooler temperatures and a bit more routine.  Bridget heads off to preschool again on Wednesday, and then I’ll have nine whole hours a week to myself!  Whoa.  Be still, my heart.  Nine hours to clean house, run errands, do laundry, volunteer in my older girls’ classrooms, think, read, and blog.  I don’t know what I’ll do with the leftover time, because surely that won’t fill up nine whole hours, right!?

In the meantime, here’s the perfunctory and ubiquitous picture taken on the first day of school…  Lucy entering fifth grade, and Phoebe third.

Sigh.