Odd Duck

First, allow me to apologize that I did not blog last night as I said I would. My husband and I had a long, wonderful day visiting our daughter and her family who live about an hour away from us. We got back much later than I thought we would, and I was very tired and wasn't in the mood to blog when I got home. I'm sorry I did not blog when I said I would, AND I would also like to say that I'm not going to blog about all the books at once. I decided to just do a little at a time for the next few days. Like preparing a good meal, it's easier to write a little at a time, taking my time, and enjoying the process.

I thought it would be fun to start off with a book I find hard to describe rather than one I just loved. The Pleasures of Men by Kate Williams is definitely one of those that is not easily defined. I didn't love the book, but...I didn't hate it either. I found it interesting and thought provoking in ways I did not expect.

The setting of the novel is London in the Summer of 1840. The story revolves around a strange young lady with a dark past who is living with her uncle. There is someone who is killing young women during this long, hot summer, and the protagonist feels a type of connection with the killer in her mind. She thinks she can figure out who the murderer is and why he is killing these women. Think of a mixture between Henry James' Turn of the Screw (with less detail), Jack the Ripper, and a dash of that "Upstairs, Downstairs/Downton Abbey" type thing.

The book kept me reading, I did find it interesting, but - I can't help but point this out - I found some of the relations between some of the characters a bit...shocking? No, "shocking" is too much. Perhaps, I should say, a bit odd? Not because I doubt the validity of such things throughout history, as they have gone on since the beginning of time, but...I guess I never thought of it in the context of Victorian London. I never asked myself about the types of things that went on behind closed ladies' bedroom doors or in servants' quarters. Don't get the wrong idea, the whole book isn't wallowing in it, but when it did pop up, it surprised me. I wasn't expecting it based on what I knew about the novel before I read it. It also makes it a book I wouldn't recommend to every person I know. Some people are open-minded enough to accept things like that as a part of the story, and a fact of life, and go on with it. Other people, well,...they don't handle it so well. I have friends and family on both sides of that literary wall. In other words, while I would have no trouble recommending it to most of my friends, I would not recommend it to my mother. Understand?

And, speaking of recommendations, if you are a fan of historical fiction and murder mysteries, you may enjoy this book. It won't be the best book you ever read, but it is a good book. I'm glad I read it. I wouldn't put it at the top of your list, but maybe in the  middle. However, I should warn  you, if you're a reader who doesn't like shifts in the narration throughout the book, you may want to skip this one. It happens fairly frequently and, to her credit, the author states it was on purpose to make you feel as confused and uncertain as the protagonist. I get that. I even appreciate it. However, I know some of my friends that wouldn't want to read it just for that reason.

Last, but not least, if it helps to say how I feel about this slightly odd duck, I liked it enough to look up some of Kate Williams' other books. The Pleasures of Men was her fictional debut, but she's written other types of books before this one, and she's written some since. In fact, I'm already interested in reading the biography she wrote on Josephine Bonaparte. I guess that says there's something about Williams' style that I like and want to enjoy again.

Happy reading! :)

Still Here!

It's been awhile since I've blogged, mostly because I've been busy enjoying my summer break. I have been reading, though, and I've found some odd books and some treasures I want to share with you. I think I'll just write one blog about all of them, giving a brief opinion and general summary (without spoilers) of each.

I'm on my way out the door in a few minutes, but I'll be sure and blog about those books later on tonight,..well,...more like...late tonight, so you might want to check tomorrow. :)

You see, I am enjoying being outdoors a great deal this summer. If it's daylight and the sun is shining, I want to be outside. I've lived in Texas nearly eighteen years now, and I believe this is the mildest summer we've ever had. It has been incredibly wonderful to spend so much time outdoors! It's good for my mind, good for my body, and good for my soul. We've had plenty of rain, which is also unusual, so everything is still green and the flowers around my house are blooming like crazy and make me smile every day. Yes, life is good!

I hope summer is wonderful wherever you are! I look forward to sharing some book reviews and news with you tonight.

Happy reading!!

 

Reflections on a Rainy Day

It's been raining all day today and, while I've thought about many things, I find myself thinking about my big brothers and how blessed I am to have had their love and support throughout my entire life. In fact, they've been there for me since the day I was born.

Me and my big brothers - March 1967

My brothers are two years apart in age from each other, but they are seven and nine years older than I am. I guess that's why I've always worshipped them, and I have done so unabashedly. Growing up, they shared a very small room in our little house. They slept in bunk beds while I, being the only girl, had the bigger bedroom to myself. I've never quite figured out how that was fair, but I never heard them complain about it. I didn't actually think a whole lot about it until I was much older. In fact, I now realize there are quite a few things I've never really reflected on until now...

As long as I have lived (which is almost fifty years now, folks), I have never heard my brothers speak ill of each other. The two of them are as different as they are alike and, while they may not agree on all things, I've never heard the other one say something malicious or mean about the other. Do they tease each other? Pick on each other? Oh, absolutely, without mercy - at times - when they were younger, but that isn't the same thing. When you openly talk and joke about your strengths and weaknesses with your siblings (like the fact that we ALL talk too much, but each claims it's the others who talk more than they do), it isn't the same thing as saying something hurtful or unkind.

Today, I've given my relationship with them more thought and reflection than usual. While I don't see my brothers often anymore, each of us lives in a different state now, I recently had a chance to spend some time with one of them. I suppose that's what prompted my line of thinking today. I actually tried to remember something one of my brothers might have said to me, at any age or stage in our lives, about the other that I would consider hateful or mean-spirited. I could not think of a single example. What a gift that is, what a blessing!

I wish I could say that what I learned from my own siblings is mirrored in other siblings throughout my family, including my own three daughters, but too often "sibling rivalry" is accepted as something that should be there. I disagree. Because of my experience with my brothers, I am always greatly disappointed when other siblings don't get along or aren't honest about their relationships with each other. I'd like to tell them all what I tell my own daughters and have told them their whole lives. So, here is one version of a little "speech" my own girls have heard, at one time or another...or many, when they were too hard on each other or disagreed about something when they were growing up.

Moms and dads will become feeble and pass away someday, your siblings are your bond, your back-up, the people who should be there for you no matter what. And, you know what? Parents may screw-up, they aren't always right, they are human. They mess up. But siblings? Siblings need to stick together through thick and thin, no matter what. They should love you unconditionally and without judgment. Everyone needs someone like that. If you have that with your parents, that's great - but, again, they will grow old and die one day. And, no matter how great your parents are, the relationship with them is not the same as it is with a sibling.

Don't be like so many families that still argue about old problems and old hurts twenty years from now. Don't allow parents or grandparents, or other family members, who may show favoritism (shame on them) to break or harm the bond you should have with your siblings. Those people will be gone one day, but the damage you allow them to bring into the relationship you should have with your brothers and/or sisters will live on for years after those people have left this earth.

If you think I'm talking to you, then I am. Obviously, you already know there is a problem. Stop. It. Now. If you don't, you will regret it later. If you don't make the effort, it is a reflection on you. And, I assure you, there is no greater comfort in your time of need than to have someone you can turn to who has lived in the same family you have all your life and understands so much without you having to say it.

Easter 1971

A few years ago, I had a huge, difficult, heart-wrenching life decision to make. I didn't know what I wanted to do. When I asked my oldest brother, he said words I will never forget. He told me he trusted me with my own decision. He said I didn't need anyone to tell me what to do. His belief in my intelligence, his belief in me, brought me peace in a way that is hard to describe. He also told me I had his full support no matter what I chose to do.

Like I said, we all need someone like that in our lives. Be that someone for your siblings. I am very thankful, and feel doubly blessed, that I have always had two of those someones in my life. 
 

Wrapping Up

My, my, my,...time certainly DOES fly! I can't believe it's been so long since I've blogged, but life has been playing on high-speed lately. I have been keeping up my reading, though, making sure I fit it in either early in the morning or late at night. If there were only more hours in a day, I might be able to get more done! I promise to give reviews on some of the great books I've read lately, but not yet. I need another week to wrap some things up.

This week is the last week of school. Every year, it is the same for me. I truly enjoy my summer break, but...I know I will miss my students. I've become a little more sentimental in the past couple of weeks. I worry there is something I've forgotten to tell them or teach them. I find myself writing little notes in my phone or on a pad, "Be sure to tell David that I have really enjoyed reading his writings this year," or "Tell Shelby she's smart and can accomplish anything." Have I told them these things already? Yes. But they need to hear it again, just one more time (or three) before we say goodbye.

So, please forgive me for ignoring my blog for awhile. At this time of year, any extra attention I have is showered on my students. Even my husband takes a backseat and, God bless him, he never complains. He knows my heart and knows it's very important to me to send my 72 children out into the world with my love wrapped around them for safe keeping.

And, at the end of a school year, that's the most important wrap up of them all.

 

The Absolute Truth

I've been following this teacher's journey, via her blog and her Facebook, for some time now. I was surprised to find that The Washington Post had picked up one of her latest blogs where she tells the truth about how it is to be a teacher - the struggles and the rewards.

Sadly, "Love, Teach" is leaving her job at the end of this year. Because of that, I suppose, she's decided to be completely up front and honest about what is wrong with public education. And every word she writes is the absolute truth.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/answer-sheet/wp/2015/04/25/teacher-what-i-wish-everyone-knew-about-working-in-a-high-needs-school/

Better

I love what I do. Have I mentioned that lately? I absolutely love being a teacher, and I love my students. Every day is different, every child is different, and to watch them learn and grow as human beings amazes me. My students make me a better person and remind me of what is really important in this world.

Because I love my students and the work that I do, I don't like to be absent from my classroom. Unfortunately, I've been ill the past couple of months and had days that were really a struggle to get through. I did have to miss some work, but tried not to miss too much if I could help it. I was honest with my students on rough days. I told them that in spirit I was completely fine, but that I tired quickly and needed to sit more than usual in class. Normally, I'm a very active teacher and seldom sit down. My students were quite wonderful and adapted to their teacher's limited movements. The kindness and consideration my students had for me helped to make me better on difficult days.

Now, I am happy to say, I am well! What was wrong with me is better and improving every day. I feel like myself again for the first time in quite awhile. It's like a natural high to be able to move and breathe and live without the limitations that burdened me. While I have always had an appreciation for life, that appreciation has certainly been renewed!
 
I was reminded just how far I've come when I did a little storytelling yesterday. We've been studying different types of myths, and I had some students ask me if I'd read "The Chenoo" myth out loud for them. The students had read the story previously in class and answered questions about it. They just wanted to hear me read aloud with expression. Storytelling. It was only a few students, so I told them to come in before school started the next day, and I would read it. You can imagine my surprise when my classroom was full of students waiting to hear the tale the next morning.

As I read the story and bellowed out the voice of the Chenoo (stomping around for effect, of course...), I felt energized from head to toe. I had so much fun watching my students enjoy the story, and we all laughed together at the end when I tried to get some of my students to bellow with me. When the bell rang to go to first period, and we had to leave the classroom, one of my students said, "I dare you to go out in the hallway and do that in front of everyone!" I laughed and winked and said, "No problem!" as I took my performance piece out into the busy hallway.
 
Later that day, one of my students said, "When I saw you in the hallway this morning stomping around and being silly, I knew you were really, finally better!" I'm sure I had the biggest, goofiest grin on my face because I realized just how much better I really felt, too. 

And, trust me, feeling better is the absolute best! :)

Do I Like Dark?

Well, I'm not exactly sure. I don't think I've ever sought out what I consider "dark" novels. Dark humor? Yes. Read books that were somewhat dark? Yes.  I've read a few murder mysteries over the years and, while I enjoyed them, they really aren't a genre I reach for very often.

I guess the darkest book I ever read before was Stephen King's novel, It. I read that back in the 80s. I remember the book giving me the creeps. I also remember, quite well, finding out that I was pregnant with my first child when I was only halfway through the novel, and I felt unable to keep reading it. It was just too warped and had children being harmed in it. I remember wondering what kind of man (King) slept by his wife, had four children of his own, and could write about a clown that mutilated and murdered small children. Pennywise still freaks me out...

I did, however, finish the novel eventually. I wanted to know how it ended. I picked the book up and finished it some time after my daughter was born. I thought most of the book was well-written, but I thought the ending was stupid. Really stupid. Needless to say, the ridiculous ending helped to relieve some of the terror I'd felt over the book. It no longer scared me (as much...) because I thought the ending was an unrealistic, cop-out compared to the rest of the book.
 
Wow, didn't mean to go down that road...

Books do that to me, though. I relate other times and memories and people to them. I remember what I was reading when certain things happened in my life. I associate some books with people I know or have known. Some are good memories, some are not. It is what it is. When reading books are a part of your life, you tend to remember what book you were reading when something important happened.
 
I'm jumping the track again, aren't I? No worries. I'm famous for it. ;)
 
Back to my original question: Do I like "dark" novels? It sounds weird for me to say, "Ooooh, I read this novel about this family that gets murdered and chopped up and...it was really good!" Doesn't that just sound wrong?! I have to say, though, when my friend, Tammy, recommended Gillian Flynn's Dark Places to me, she warned me it was different and dark. She didn't want to tell me much about it, which I appreciated. She and I usually like the same novels, though, so I trusted her judgment.

It is a good book, but it is a dark book. It is definitely one that I read every chance I got because I wanted to know what happened next. I sympathized with more than one of the characters, and they just felt so...real. The premise of the story is that one child survives when most of her family is murdered (her mom and two sisters) by her 15-year-old brother, and she was the only witness to it. Her testimony, at seven years of age, is part of what helped convict her brother. The book opens in present day with the child grown into adulthood and her brother serving a life-sentence in prison. Her life is going nowhere, she's numb and has never recovered from what happened to her family. She's still in a dark place. Almost against her own will, she begins trying to figure out exactly what happened the night of the murders and why it happened.

The novel goes back and forth between present day and the past (1985), which is something I don't usually like. It all flowed together well, though, in this novel. Both stories are good stories - what the main character is struggling with and leading up to in the present, as well as, what events back in 1984 led up to the tragic events of one night in early 1985.

So, who knew? I do like dark,...I just don't like to stay in it for too long. I think my next read needs to have some magic and some faeries in it. Now, if Patrick Rothfuss would just finish that third book I want to get my hands on...

Happy reading! :)