The Immortals by Tamora Pierce

Mar20

My first introduction to Tamora Pierce was in her Beka Cooper series. (You can read a review/movie rant here where I sort of talk about Terrier.) I was hooked and then delighted to discover another two dozen books by the same author, many set in the same world. I had reading to do!

Last year I binge read The Song of the Lioness Quartet and thoroughly enjoyed it. Then, last week, feeling under the weather, I got all four of The Immortals books from the library and promptly devoured them.

The Beka Cooper books (Terrier, Bloodhound and Mastiff) are, so far, still my favorite – as an adult. The Song of the Lioness quartet I enjoyed, but would have loved as a kid. The Immortals? The Immortals main character can talk to animals. I’d have been over the moon to have discovered this when it was written!

Would I recommend it? These are the kind of fun, strong, female character books that I can’t wait to introduce my own girls to. When I hand the first of these to them I’ll be crossing my fingers that at least one of my girls will like it as much as I do!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Wall

Mar18

Weekly Photo Challenge: Wall

The United Kingdom stretches from floor to ceiling and beyond. Shrewsbury can be found just over the toilet paper roll. London barely squeaks in above the floor in the corner under the towel rack and to see Edinburgh you must stand with your head at the ceiling.

It has taken some getting used to, this bathroom papered in maps.

But, exiting the shower gives one lovely view of Alaska and while washing my hands I often think of my cousin living in British Columbia.

The walls are a bit “busy” but Finland can be perused in it’s entirety while brushing your teeth and what a treat to view the Alps every time you head out the door.

It took a few bathroom geography lessons with the girls before the maps really started to grow on me but now I’m convinced. The crazy, chaotic, map covered walls are here to stay.

So, if you ever need to know the bus Routes in Helsinki, give me a call. I’ll check the bathroom.

Morning Things

Mar16

To say that I’m not at my best in the morning may be an understatement. I am a night owl, I am not a morning person.

But I am an amazingly fortunate night owl, I rarely have to get up at a prescribed time in the morning. (Thank you Honey!) However, I do have children.

This means that many mornings I lie in bed three quarters asleep trying hard to be all the way asleep while children drape themselves over me and talk to me in ridiculously loud voices. I respond in grunts, mumbles and sometimes yells (Don’t ever tickle my feet or stick your finger up my nose when I’m sleeping I do not like it.) that I hope will make them all be quiet for just ten more minutes. (Ten minutes is, of course, the magical morning time that will make everything better.)

This is not my proudest moment of the day.

I look sort of like this in the morning but grumpier and less cute.

It takes a Thing to get me up. An extra nudge to convince me that leaving my comfy bed, where sleep might still happen, is what needs to be done. Often the Thing is the beckoning bathroom. (Which makes me feel old.) Some days it’s the sound of children getting into what they shouldn’t. (Think, yogurt falling out of the refrigerator, and chairs being moved for access to high places.) Sometimes the Thing takes the form of animal mischief. (Puking cats, barking dogs, frightened chicken noises…) On terrible mornings the Thing is a warm wet puddle spreading from a nearby child. And on horrible days the Thing is the alarm clock and my conscience. It is rare that a conversation with a child will be the Thing to rouse me in the morning but it does occasionally happen. (Read Just Imagine for a rather dramatic example.)

On a recent morning Clara was snuggled into my nice cozy bed and talking at me about, well, actually, I have no idea what it was about. Clara was talking and I was making mumbly, grunty noises hoping she’d stop when she dropped a Thing into conversation.

“Mom, when Trip dies, you can make him into hot dogs.”

It was, without a doubt, a Thing. Suddenly I was wide awake, simultaneously giving a lesson on what hot dogs are made of, proclaiming that no one is ever eating our dogs and getting her breakfast ready. Just in case my neglecting to get out of bed in a reasonable amount of time and feed her was giving her ideas.

Snow Melt

Mar12

In less than a week we have gone from over a foot of snow cover to mud with patches of icy slush.

Clara has tried to make the best of the situation.

Jane and I appreciate Clara’s efforts but we feel the same way about the loss of our snow.

And Ivy… Ivy …Ivy is ready to embrace all the warm weather she can get!

The Highlander by Zoe Saadia

Mar11

Can you say… Tenochtitlan, Tepanecs, Tlaxcala and Nezahualcoyotl three times fast?

Yeah, me neither.

But at least now I know what they are! (An Aztec capital, a mesoamerican tribe, a town, and an heir to Texcoco, in case you were wondering.)

The Highlander jumps right to the story, immerses it in history and never pauses to lecture on the subject. This can be a bit confusing when mesoamerica circa 1400’s is completely new to you (as it was to me) but worth it. If given the choice between initial confusion and interrupting the flow of a story to give a history lesson, I’ll choose initial confusion every time. And, as happens in well done historical fiction, by the end of this fairly short book I had many of the unfamiliar terms, towns and people sorted out in my brain – even if I still can’t pronounce a single one of them.

Saadia is also great at writing adolescent boys. The trouble is adolescent boys are not my favorite. Teenage boys were annoying when I was a teenager, and they haven’t gotten less so just because they are fictional. And, yes, because my husband asked, I didn’t even like Harry Potter that much during his teenage years. And, no, in case you are wondering I didn’t know my husband when he was that age. And, no, I will not speculate on what I might have thought of him then. The two main characters in this story are boys brimming with adolescent, angst-ey, angry, hormonal, warrior energy. All their boy shenanigans are a great way to tell the story, immerse the reader in history and keep it exciting. It’s just that all those warrior hormones seem to get in the way of other things – like brains. I found myself yelling at them, “Seriously boys, what are you doing? Just think!” Initially I thought perhaps they could have been written differently but then I remembered back to when I spent time with fifteen year old boys – and figured she was writing them just right.

Would I recommend it? I loved learning some of the history of a place and time entirely new to me and the book does have a pretty fantastic female character hiding in the wings but those boys… I just don’t love those boys…

This honest review was given in return for a free copy of the book from its author.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Orange

Mar9

Weekly Photo Challenge: Orange you glad it’s photo challenge time?

Once you start looking…

Extension cords on a fest post.

Clara’s Rubber Boot

Goldfish Tail

Asian Lady Beetle

Fresh Sawdust

Rainbow caught on the seat of a chair.

Greenhouse Pansy

…little bits of orange are everywhere!

Reason #578 We Do A Lot Of Laundry…

Mar5

…is because Jane likes to dress herself.

Jane contemplates how many clothes she can put on and still move.

On a random Monday I peeled layer after layer off her and found…

a green swimming suit,

a pink swimming suit,

a long sleeved shirt,

a short sleeved dress,

a long sleeved pajama top,

a ballerina skirt,

a pair of leggings,

her pajama pants

and, finally, a single pair of underwear.

It might be reason #578 we do a lot of laundry but she sure knows how to layer for cold weather!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Reward

Mar3

Weekly Photo Challenge: Reward

The scene inside the greenhouse on February 28th was ample reward for a winters worth of watering!

Your Dog Is Perfect

Mar2

There is a thing that happens once you own a dog. Not your parents’ dog, or your kids’ dog, or your spouse’s dog but your very own dog. Suddenly, regardless of what you have ever said – or will say – about someone else’s dog, you know, in your heart of hearts (or right in everyone’s face, depending on how you play it) that your dog is, and will always be, the best.

Your dog is perfect.

Sure, they may have a few inconvenient habits like rolling in dead animals, digging holes that reach to China and barfing up socks on the living room rug at two AM. But they are so fantastic in all other areas that there is no reason whatsoever to dwell on the little annoyances that, really, if we are all being honest here, come with all dogs.

Being a dog owner with a perfect dog myself, I can tell you that there is nothing better than being handed an opportunity to lay out just exactly why your dog is better than someone else’s.

In a group of people that know neither Storm (John’s dog) nor Trip (my dog AKA Most Amazing Dog in the World), it happened to come up in conversation that Storm had an irritating and ridiculous habit of staring up at squirrels in trees and barking at them.

Bark, Bark, Bark! Come down so I can eat you squirrel! Bark, Bark, Bark!

It’s possible that I may have expressed some scorn on the effectiveness of this behavior when I was asked what my dog did that was so much better.

A chance to expound on the fantastic-ness of my dog compared to others!?! Bliss, utter dog owning bliss. I dove right in.

My dog (The Smartest Dog in the Solar System) sits quietly in the house at an upstairs window watching the bird feeders. Once he sees a squirrel come to a feeder he runs down the stairs, gently rings the bells to go outside and waits patiently for me to come. I open the door as quietly as possible and when it’s wide enough for him to get through, he tears off across the yard. If it’s a quiet exit from the house the squirrel will see him coming once he is about half way there and the race is on! The finish line is the maple at the back of the yard and while squirrels climb fast, my dog (The Best Jumper in the Universe) has some ups that have earned him a mouthful of fur at least once. Then Trip trots back to the house, asks to come back inside and resumes his post upstairs. Or, if it’s a nice sunny day, he (The Most Patient Being In Our Household) sits like a statue near the backdoor until the birds and squirrels feel it’s safe to come back out.

Good things come to those who wait.

As my story ended I realized I seemed to be surrounded by non-dog owners. All their nodding faces seemed to say, “Why yes, your dog is fantastic and smart as well.” If only I had had a picture of him along, I’m sure they would have waxed poetic on his handsomeness too.

However if they had owned a perfect dog of their own, as some of you do, there would have been nods that said “Yup, knew it all along, that dog sounds alright but mine is better. Mmmm hmmm.”

But, fellow perfect dog owners, now’s your chance, I’m asking you. How awesome is your dog?

Give your day a little pick me up and expound away!

(Don’t look so worried Trip, I’ll still think you’re the most fabulous dog of all!)

The Oak

Feb26

There are sights I try to capture with my camera, knowing I will end up with nothing more than a scrap of the experience.

Merely a taste of a memory that must be recalled and revisited.

I have not the skills to truly capture the way this old oak rises into view through a break in the trees, towering over everything.

Truly immense in size, it is a tree that demands to be admired.

A tree that stops you in your tracks, forcing you to look up past the animal runways scratched into it’s thickly crevassed bark, up to the branches that twist and turn far, far above.

Then once you tear yourself away to continue on, it is merely to stop, turn back and look upon it from a fresh angle as if you have doubted your senses and need to confirm that it is still standing, still real.