Major Pettigrew

Last month we read Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson. It was good. It certainly wasn't the best of literature, but still solid. In reading reviews, the word that comes up most is "quiet". That seems about right.

I couldn't get a good handle on a time frame. It mentioned several things that made me think current day, but the entire vibe was very old fashioned. I realize that was part of the point of the book, but it messed with my head to the point that it continually pulled me out of the story. The characters in the book were also not very nice. I found most of them repugnant. The Major's son? Horrid. Mrs. Ali's family? Ew. A good portion of the village people (heh. village people...)? A mixture between clueless and evil. It made it hard to want to see anyone prosper in any sort of way. The Major and Mrs. Ali, though. They seemed to be the only level headed people in all of England.

I did get wrapped up in their love story. I did want to see how it all played out. I did want to see how the Major's prim and proper life was going to continue to be unraveled. And, negatives aside, I kept wanting to read, so there's that.

The ending, though. I felt emotionally cheated. I really hated that she tied up the endings in SUCH a tidy manner. There was some real room to leave things a tad messy, but with room for growth. There were dropped story lines and things that were WAY too conveniently wrapped up. One of the main story lines involved a family heirloom and the way she treated that at the end really frustrated me. It was the one wrap up that really had me frustrated; more than the son, more than the messy, crazy family of Mrs. Ali, more than the tidy wrap up of the village. I really thought it was handled in a very pedestrian way and should have been a much stronger ending.

Next up is Alice I Have Been. Can I admit that I've never actually read Alice's Adventures in Wonderland? I'm not even sure I've seen the Disney movie version the entire way through. So this may be a challenge for me. I'm hoping to be pleasantly surprised by it all.


(a question of time, depeche mode)

Dispatches From The Sick

About a week ago, I casually mentioned to Isaac that I was so grateful we hadn't gotten any of the illnesses going around and how lovely that was and HOLY CRAP I shouldn't have said that because you all know where this is going, right? I woke up on Wednesday not the greatest...the tickle in my throat, the headache. Thursday was book club and, clearly the Lord really did have mercy on me, because I felt great and was able to go. But Friday the head clogging was back. And while it's a VERY mild cold, it just reinforces my superstition, you know? Last night Sammy was sleeping very fitfully, and by the time I went to bed, he couldn't breath and was acting like puking may be on the menu, so we stripped him down and threw him in our bed, assuring that none of us would sleep very well. This morning he is in full on cold mode. I always feel badly when he has a cold. He just looks so miserable. So we are hanging out at home, me not showered, smelling of last night's curry, watching a movie and Sammy hanging out on the floor playing with his cars and reaching for a tissue every two seconds. What a fun morning for us. But it could be worse. We could be privy to that fever / cough combo that seems to be going around...

I'm thinking this might actually be ok. A slow week, that is. My desk is currently buried under a pile of stuff: things that need to be mailed and sorted through and read and dealt with. And I keep putting it all off in favor of funner things and I need to just have an afternoon with the music up and nothing else to do and just tackle it all.

My usefulness for winter has vanished. It's cold and a week into February and I'm dreaming of spring. I'm ready for sandals and skirts and warmth and trips to Target without checking the weather first. I'm ready to just be...warm.

I just ran across a writer's conference this spring and I think I'm going. How weird is that? I think it will be weird and I'm sure I'll be fighting feeling like an impostor the entire time. I read something recently about writing not for others, but to simply give voice to thoughts and ideas that need voice. I'm still working through the article and what it means to me and my life. Where I'm going with this crazy thing. I feel like I'm continually trying to see where this career of mine is taking me and I'm looking forward to going to a conference if for nothing but to see if I can hold my own in a room of 'real' writers.

Plans are being made for Isaac's birthday party in a couple of weeks. I'm already looking forward to it. I'm pretty impressed with myself for coming up with it and following through. I'm still working out the last of the details, but I'm pretty sure I'll have it together soon. Yay!

What I've watched while typing. While I still love this movie, I sometimes wish I could watch it again for the very first time. You can't ever get that viewing back. But, dude. He's just hot and that isn't contingent on a first viewing to appreciate.

(falling slowly, glen & marketa)

Week In Pictures

Friday - checking out paint samples


Saturday - Sammy and his first eye exam...did I mention he may need glasses before he starts school? Sigh...


Sunday - Sammy and the pillows (aka: when comfort goes too far)


Monday - my birthday present...


Tuesday - the remnants of a FABULOUS birthday dinner (fajita burrito...my favorite!) at my favorite restaurant


Wednesday - What you use to combat negative temps and a slight sore throat


Thursday - Book club. And how was YOUR night?



(shellshock, new order)

This Is This

This is me at 37. Taken, in fact, on my birthday sans make up and flat iron, but nearly 15 pounds lighter than last fall. I was trying to get a birthday shot in for this week's pictures, but when I saw them, I dismissed them all (see: sans make up and flat iron) and took something else for my Tuesday picture.

And then I read, back to back, a couple of posts on body image. My first thought, after clicking close, was "thank heavens I don't have girls" and then, "wait...Sammy is going to have to MARRY a girl...I hope she isn't one of these striving for the wrong type of perfection". And I started thinking and, well, here we are.

I am normal. I have issues with my body (I need to lose more weight and somehow learn to actually like to exercise, my freckles will be the death of me and I hate my lack of chin) but I also have things I love (that I have rock hard abs and decent muscle definition under my flab of flesh, enough that even my GYN mentioned them, my eyes rock, as do my lips and my legs are nice and long and with the help of a fabulous colorist, I now have my dream hair color). Over all, I don't think I'm hideous most days. But...that's as good as it gets some days; others? I look great. Even with that, I still clearly felt the need to mention my 15 pound weight loss, but I know I'm not the only one with these thoughts. And there is some comfort in that.

My sister in law, last month at book club, mentioned that she elevated her dress at book club "because Tawnya always looks so nice"* and that stuck. While I appreciate the compliment, I felt badly that she thought she needed to dress differently because of me. And I think this is at the heart of those body image articles I read this week and WHY her comment stuck with me. In one of those articles, they mentioned that Utah has an abnormally high percentage of plastic surgery per capita. True? I don't know. It might be. My first thought was are they counting the things done after a woman has many children (breast lifts, etc) because that may skew the view, a little. However...I know I talk to friends about the obsession for fitness and outwardly perfection and how it seems ramped up here. Perception? Maybe. But it does seem to be in the focus here.

Yesterday morning, as I had all of these thoughts swirling, I read an obituary in the paper. It caught my eye because she looked so young. And I was right. She was 31. Married 10 years, five kids (8, 6, 4 y.o. twins, 3). Died of cancer on Monday. Because I CANNOT handle stories like that, I started thinking of it in terms of body issue. Did this young mom hate her body before? When she got sick, did she have new appreciation for it? Did she simply celebrate the fact that it bore her children? Or was she normal and morn the bad with good? I'm not sick. Yet. But who knows? Anything can happen. Am I really treating my body with respect while I'm healthy?

So, yes. This is me at 37. I have issues with my body. I have no chin. I need to lose a little weight. My freckles are a source of great hatred. And while it's not a great picture of me, I need to embrace it because it IS me. This is what 37 looks like. And I need to be ok with that. And while I have flaws and I'm sure my body issues won't go away any time soon, I'm seeing how choices and attitudes perpetuate this myth of physical perfection and how that myth can be stopped. But I also see how very fine and blurry that line really is between chasing beauty for chasings sake and taking care of yourself, this one shot in this one body you have, wanting it to be the best and look the best it can. It seems so black and white but complicated and confusing all at once. So this is me. Posting this in hopes that I can start to take the complicated out and see that blurry line in my own life a little more clearly.

*just an FYI, I'm sitting her typing this in sweater pants (heaven!) and a tshirt, hair not even blown dry today and fuzzy socks. Just keepin' it real, people, though there won't be a picture of today...


(white stripes, blue orchid: in tribute, white stripes...i will always be sad we missed your last concert)

Things I Should Be Ashamed To Admit

1. I thought ginger ale was alcoholic until WELL into my adulthood. The first time I ordered it on a plane, I still felt a little guilty.

2. Several years ago, every day when I got to work, the first thing I would do is play an internet "Name that Tune" game. It was an alternative 80s version. My sister and brother in law would also play and we would email answers / times / whatever the score method was to each other. Every day. Before any real work started. And if I had an early meeting and couldn't get to it quickly? Bummed. I still miss it.

3. I own four out of the six albums Rick Astley has made.

4. I actually thought Corky Romano was funny. And...I may own it. And quote it.

5. I once fell asleep at an outdoor concert. In the middle of the afternoon. I don't even remember who we were seeing, but I was tired. For some reason, this song is linked in my mind with that event. Maybe they were there? I don't remember. I was ASLEEP.

(ned's atomic dustbin, grey cell green)

Top 5 - Birthday Edition

1974: (the year I was born)

(ain't too proud to beg, rolling stones)

1988: (the year I turned 14)

(the promise, when in rome)

1992: (the year I graduated high school)

(divine thing, the soup dragons)

1999: (the year I got married)

(scar tissue, red hot chili peppers)

2006: (the year Sammy was born)

(is it any wonder, keane)