Book Bag - no. 19

The deal I made with myself was that as soon as I finish these last set of shorts, I will get the wool out of the top drawers, and the snow pants finally hidden away.  I had made Fiona one pair a few weeks ago and they were so adorable, I decided the whole (extended) family needed a pair.  On Sunday evenings Myles and Fiona head to a local track for a running club, and watching Fiona bounce around in her homemade cotton shorts makes me bubble over.

     We have a couple of things in motion around here that has made life a wee full.  We decided to sell our house and move back to the city. Eric finally finished up his requirements for ordination in the Episcopal Church and was offered a part-time job at a parish in Cambridge. We have been three years here now in Scituate, which is south of Boston, and it has indeed been wonderful to have the beautiful seaside at our fingertips for this time.  But it has been hard for me here in many ways too.  So when the job came up, and an apartment near my sister was available, we decided to go for it.
     So in between the business of finishing up the school year, and getting the house tidy for the millionth time, these are the highlights from the library this week.




On Friday, Myles downloaded, Hatchet from our library's online catalog and listened to it in a day.  So that was that.  This reading process takes me by surprise when he consumes semi-classics at the speed of sound.  Could this be an expression of the information age?  I had forgotten how heavy the book is, as Brian, the hero sorts out the divorce of his parents. Oh well.

This was a long week and I am taking great solace that we are in the midst of a long weekend. (Patriots Day) Last week I concluded that I am not very good at teaching math. I keep waiting for Myles just to take off with his arithmetic prowess, but its like the pipes have frozen inside his brain. And so I have grown a deep understanding of the person who says, "I could never do that!" when it comes to homeschooling.  I think this citizen is much more in touch with his/her inner self that I was. Or way more patient.  I may now be able to say, "I thought I could do it. I knew it would be hard. But it was actually ten times harder that I thought, and I'm not sure I can do it anymore."  Myles' personality is that if there isn't a thousand pound boulder hurdling down a mountainside headed directly at him, he does not see a need to get out of the way. Or in terms of mathematics; If there isn't someone standing over him with a hatchet threatening bodily harm,  he sees no reason to learn how to find the area of rectangle.  Clearly I am doing something wrong, for this causes me to break out into hives and I have to excuse myself to scrub the toilets with ferocity.  So that's the silver lining apparently. Sparkling Bowls.

These are our fields of expertise.

And this is our current family read aloud. If you could only hear the howls when I pick up this book. "Its about some dumb ole' chickens."  But when we learned that that dumb ole chicken was the only of her brood to survive an attack of a couple of wild dogs, silence prevailed.  Here's to perseverance.


A Bookish Aesthetic

Here's what a plate hanger can do. Yes, that's Carson Ellis' magic there. And below is a print from a WWI poster exhibit that visited the MFA recently.  We couldn't leave it behind. They both deserve a slightly bigger space, but sometimes things go up and don't come down.

I've been sewing myself into smithereens lately waiting for Eric to finish up his bazillionth hour of Clinical Pastoral Education, as they call it. Things are about to come undone.  But at least there will be a few dresses left in the wake of my deliverance.  And these shorts were fun too.


Book Bag - no. 18

That little green book you see is called, This is Just to Say: Poems of Apology and Forgiveness.  I had to do a double take at the library, to make sure I was seeing the title correctly. It is collection of poems written by a sixth grade class, and then the responses to them. Beautiful and Funny and Poignant.

This time we treated, Follow Follow as a game of riddles. One of us would read the poem, and the rest would have to guess which fairy tale it was created for.  I think that's the whole point of the book, but the game deeply satisfied Fiona, who is always asking me for a riddle, at which my mind goes completely blank.  So now she can look back on her childhood with fond memories of her riddling mother. Mission accomplished. Thank you, Marilyn Singer.
Tonight is one of those Friday nights that I am actually looking forward to. It feels like it has been a while with March threatening to freeze us to death.  We are dismissing Fiona early from to school to go to one of those crazy trampoline parks. There was a sale running, and a friend going, and with sheets of ice as far as the eye can see; I am more excited about this than I care to admit.  And then we come home to pizza, and root beer, and licorice and Dr. Doolittle.  Fo' shizzle! And this is just even more amplified because I actually got my brother's wedding gift in the mail a good three hundred and sixty days earlier than etiquette required me to. Talk about peace of mind. I found the most amazing, cast iron candle holders at Patch NYC in the south end of Boston. They were exactly what I was hoping to find, along with one of most memorable shopping experiences I have had in years. 

And on that note, I bid you, adieu. I hope that something in your own evening tonight brings you rest.