The Wrath Inside by RR Gall

Often it starts with a setting that interests you, then the characters paint their lives full and rich, the plot hooks you for good and there you are engrossed in a good book.

As a story set it AD 15 The Wrath Inside certainly interested me and perhaps that was the problem. I was so busy being analytically interested I never became emotionally involved. So much of my inner dialog was saying things like; “Ha- of course teenagers were still smart alecs.” “Is that what their houses are like?” “Are those wood working tools really as old as all that? I wonder what they looked like?”  ” Wait, what are they eating?” “Should I know this person?” “How much of this is real?” I was googling, and defining and learning… and completely missing getting wrapped up in the character and plots.The Wrath Inside by RR Gall

I missed connecting with the young boy who was sucked into schemes he knows little about and the angry Roman commander who has come to take the census of his town. And as for the many plot lines that were being woven, well, I was too busy wondering over cooking tortoises to puzzle over any mystery. Finally when the different plots started weaving together near the end, promising more action in the following book, I was surprised at all that had been going on while I was marveling over roofing design!

Would I recommend it? The book was interesting but not captivating. Of course, that said, I’d like to read the next one. I think I need to know what happens next!Rosie's Book Review team 1

 

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

Round One

I sat among the giant crowd, yet isolated and alone.

The rickety bleachers worn to grey and splinters rough beneath me as I faced off with a large man.

First it was his turn, then it was mine.

Winner lives.

Nothing to protect me but a tiny pair of gloves and the fact that his bow was yet untried.

I clutched at the small scarlet gloves. What to protect? My face? My heart? My neck?

The crowd cheers.

Winner advances, and I waited to meet round two.

Trapped in the roiling crowd, I had no panic, just icy, calm fear.

Could I win all three rounds?

I am again linking up with Northwest Frame of Mind  and her 1 Day 1 World project. Sadly between the hours  2AM and 4AM I couldn’t seem to muster the will to get up and take a picture.  But my sleeping mind has always been full of vivid pictures, this was just part of my nightmare Saturday night.

Magic

We were invited to a friend’s house for dinner and a magic show. Masterminded by their oldest daughter, (who is a few years older than Ivy) it was quite a show. There were tickets, colored lights, card tricks, assistants, disappearing quarters, costumes, rope tricks, audience participation and small red balls that seemed to have a life of their own, all delivered with a remarkable amount of showmanship.

Needless to say my kids were enthralled and amazed. The entire drive home I heard about the magic show and this morning I was pulled upstairs to be treated to Ivy’s first ever magic show.

There were play-mobile figures that appeared and disappeared.Ivy's Magic ShowThere was a  trick “wand” that, while clearly copied from a magician we had seen early in the summer, was executed hilariously.Ivy's Magic Show 2And there was a lot of under the table work and closed eyes from cooperative audience members.Ivy's Magic Show 3

At the conclusion of the show Ivy admitted to me that she was just hiding things under the table. I suggested that perhaps she could ask her friend to show her a trick. Ivy was quiet, then said with a sigh, “Yeah, maybe one day I’ll have a real magic wand.”

And there she had me speechless.Wishing for a Wand

Unsure whether to find an easy sleight of hand to teach her to bring a smile back to her disappointed face or support her belief in the magic of it all, I simply thanked her for a great show. My decision was promptly rewarded with a big smile and news that she’d be performing again tomorrow, when Dad was home from work.

 

 

The Last Runaway by Tracey Chevalier

The reader in me waded into this book and the current of the story swept me off my feet and down the stream. My poor conscience was left running down the shore alone.  After the final page the reader dragged herself out onto shore and sat dripping, foolishly grinning as she stared off into the distance. But before too long my conscience showed up and assaulted the reader in me. “What was that?” “You seriously liked that person?” “Weren’t you annoyed by that person?” “Didn’t you think?”

But the reader in me only shrugged and with a little half smile said, “That lady can write.”

Would I recommend it? Yes.

Guguaah!

I have never experienced something truly disgusting without also experiencing an immediate desire to tell someone about it.

Fortunately it’s the best kind of news to share.

Think about it.

If something really exciting happens, of course you want to call someone and share the news, but you probably think for a moment before dialing. There is nothing worse than a wet blanket of apathy thrown over a great story.

Terrible events, or even just bad days are the same. You want your audience to sympathize with you in “the right way” when you are grousing about how your day is awful and the world hates you.

But disgusting news? That’s universal.

For instance:

I stepped on a dead mouse that was on the garage floor.

With my bare foot…

…and it POPPED!

It was all wet and slimy even before it popped (I think my dog killed it.)…

… and when it popped it’s intestines stuck to the bottom of my foot!!!

Then I had to use a barn scraper to peel it off the floor and get rid of it.

Guguahh!

Just writing that gives me the heebeejeebees all over again as well. But- it also gives me the evil satisfaction of knowing that I probably gave you them as well.

See! Even this marmot thought my story was icky!

Even this marmot thinks my story is slightly horrifying!

Disgusting news is fun to share!

How about you, what’s your best heebeejeebee inducing story?

 

 

Storm – The Amazingly Dense Dog!

Storm isn’t really a snuggley sort of dog, so much as a the-bed-is-comfortable-and-I-want-some sort of dog.

Many nights, while I am reading in bed, she crawls up and falls asleep near my feet. Which is fine – until I’m ready to go to sleep. I put down the book, turn out the light, curl onto my side and pull the blankets up over my shoulder- and the blankets don’t pull. They are stuck under fifty pound sleeping dog, fortunately I’m an in-shape sort of lady – I’ve got muscles.  So, I shove my feet under her hoping to either annoy her off the bed (that works for Trip) or shove her over the edge.

But Storm doesn’t so much as budge.
DSCN8221-(2sm)I was puzzled for a long time how a medium sized dog could grow to mastiff sized proportions in her sleep making it near impossible to push her off the bed. Now, after many nights of study, I’ve got it figured out.

As soon as she gets the slightest hint from me that I’d like her off the bed Storm continues to “sleep” while pushing her head down into the bed as hard as she can and noodle-izing the rest of her body. That way if I stick my feet under her belly or shove at her middle, she is still firmly attached to the bed at both ends. This density-increasing technique of her’s seems to effectively double her body weight – at least.

I always win the who gets the bed war, (you can see she’s on the couch in the photo) but I’m hoping she never teaches the kids her density-increasing technique in retaliation for getting kicked off every night. It’s tricky enough getting those girls out of bed in the middle of the night, if they turned into NFL players in their sleep we’d be doomed!

It took me all week to stay up late enough to get a picture but this is what goes on at our house around one am. I am again linking up with Northwest Frame of Mind  and her 1 Day 1 World project. Click over to see who else was up in the one o’clock hour.

Note: For those of you who are sticklers for accuracy (Hi Honey!) Yes, I am aware that the dog isn’t actually increasing her density and NFL players weigh much more than twice what our kids do.

 

Creaky Old House by Linda Ashman and Michael Chesworth

Our old house had a disease, the remodeling disease.

For details please refer to: The Disease Part I , II  and III as well as More Roofing! 

We set out to fix a stairwell wall and we did.

…and then we had to fix a lot of other walls, and wiring, and insulation, and stairs, and the roof…

The disease hadn’t even finished running it’s course when we moved out and the DOT knocked the whole thing down.

For a very sad picture please refer to: Weekly Photo Challenge: Split Second Story

With that said,  no one should be surprised that this book followed us home from the library:

Would I recommend it? If you’ve ever had an old house with a touch (or a full blown case) of the remodeling disease this one’s for you!

Oh, the kids?

They liked it too!

Probably something to do with the great rhyming verse, detailed illustrations and the fact that there are labeled pictures of all the characters in the front.

My girls love any book with pictures of all the people…cat sitting on book

…the cat however has no appreciation for a good picture book when she thinks it’s dinner time.

 

 

 

New Mantra

I’ve heard people wax poetic about the joys returning from vacation to their home and family.

I think they are all  liars.

Personally I seem to be half stuck in vacation mode, confused and overwhelmed by home life.  It’s all a bit – “Wait, I have to make you all lunch?” mixed with a touch of, “Where did all you weeds come from?” finished with a dab of “How could all you animals possibly have pooped this much while I was gone?”

So before I become re-mired in broken water heaters (Welcome home!),  potty training, crying, lawn mowing, cooking (Three meals a day, what is with that?) and laundry I thought I’d share a few more photos of our fantastic trip to Colorado as I repeat my new mantra…

 

 

… it was worth it. It was worth it. It was worth it…