I am dragon, hear me roar
Here’s how I’m spending the weekend…
At the end of the day, when all is at rest…
Note: If you click on that second shot to enlarge it, you’ll see just how much fun I’m having. I think I’m hooked.
Books
A lot of books get read in our house, especially this month when it’s TV-free month. There are books in every room of the house, and where there are bookshelves, they are overflowing. Stacks of books rest on nightstands in every bedroom, books pile up on the table or the piano, and occasionally books get left behind in the bathroom. Marcel and the girls make a trip to the local library at least once or twice a week. Everybody loves books. Books, books, books. Yes, it’s a happy thing.
We don’t all like the same kind of books, though. Each person in the house has his or her own unique taste, so it means that we rarely share books.
Marcel reads mostly historical books, political books (and magazines), biographies, and occasionally a Tom Clancy novel for a little variety. He’s a history buff, so he’s got lots of war books, books on Hitler, Hoffa, you name it. He’s currently reading a biography of Randy Bachman.
Nicole’s a little like her father. She loves to read biographies and true stories. She can spout off details about the day John F. Kennedy died, the day Princess Diana got married, where Einstein grew up, when Anne Frank died, etc. She reads fiction occasionally, but prefers fiction that has its basis in truth. No fantasy or sci-fi for her. She is currently reading her second or third biography of Princess Diana, someone she is particularly enamoured with.
Julie is the most voracious reader in the house. She can get through almost any book in a day or a day and a half. Marcel had to change her library card to an adult card so they’d let her take more books out and he wouldn’t have to go back as frequently. She reads almost any kind of fiction, but her favourites are in the fantasy genre. She breezes through series like Harry Potter and Narnia, and usually ends up reading them a second or third time when she runs out of new things to read. The last I checked, she was reading a couple of Nancy Drew books (after finishing the latest Harry Potter), but she’s probably on to something else by now.
Maddie is on the cusp of reading. She’s definitely ready to be a reader, and I think it frustrates her when everyone else in the house is reading and she can’t. (I tried to get Julie to take it on as a summer project to teach Maddie to read, but I don’t think it’s caught on yet.) She loves to be read to, though, and doesn’t show any particular preference in books yet. She’s rather fond of anything by Robert Munsch – I’m not sure how many times I’ve read Stephanie’s Ponytail. The last few nights, we’ve been reading through a fairly lengthy version of the Lion King together.
I read a fair bit of literary fiction, but lately I’ve been more interested in memoirs of all kinds. Travel memoirs (like Honeymoon in Purdah), spiritual/personal journey memoirs (like anything by Anne Lamott), or memoirs of interesting life challenges (like Left to Tell). I have a bunch of leadership and creativity books on my shelf too, because that’s where I often turn for professional/personal development inspiration. I’ve also become quite interested in non-fiction books that are about the social condition (like The Tipping Point, for example). I’m currently reading The Paradox of Choice, a fascinating book that argues that the overabundance of choice in our western society is not actually good for us.
So there you have it – what books are YOU reading?
Seeing red (or wearing it, at least)
Reading the comments on my last post reminded me that I WORE RED at the big press conference last week. What was I thinking?! Ha! Kinda funny actually!
If you haven’t worked in communications for the federal government, you probably don’t know what a faux pas that is. You see – all the politicians at that gathering were Conservatives. BLUE conservatives. See the t-shirt Minister T. is wearing in the photo below? Yeah, it’s blue. That wasn’t just a casual half-asleep choice when he rolled out of bed in the morning. He would NEVER have worn red to an event. I’m sure the moment he got elected, he burned all of his red clothing, if he had any in the first place. It’s the colour of the enemy. The Liberals.
I was, in essence, branding myself as “the enemy”. Unwittingly. Perhaps THAT is why they are gazing at me so intently in that photo. It wasn’t that they were hanging on my every word (though I do like to fantasize that perhaps it’s because I’m such an irresistible conversationalist).
My communications mentor (back in my early days in the federal government) would be so disappointed in me. She reminded me every time we did an event that the colour of your clothes MATTER. How could I have forgotten? Not only did I have a rooster tail and a zit, but I was also wearing the wrong colour!
Thankfully, I DON’T work for the government anymore and I can wear whatever colour of clothes I WANT. Even IF I’m standing at a podium introducing politicians. So THERE! (This is where I stick out my tongue like a three year old and chant “nyah nyah nyah”.)
Oh well – at least my husband will be proud! Perhaps he was sending me subliminal messages when I was getting dressed that morning.
Wednesday wondering
1. The next time I have to organize a big event where I have to schmooze/boss around politicians and other dignitaries, would someone please tell me I have a rooster tail growing out of the top of my head?
Oh and what’s up with that massive prom zit on my chin? I’m forty-one years old. Weren’t those supposed to stop coming around, oh, I don’ t know – about twenty-one years ago??
Just doing my best to stay humble.
2. I’ve never been one to get hooked on computer games or electronic games of any kind. Or any games for that matter. Sudoku? Boring. Solitaire? Oh I might be able to kill 15 minutes or so, but after you’ve seen those cards topple once or twice, who cares anymore? Crossword puzzles? I get frustrated after about the third word. Tetris? Once in a while, but rarely. So then WHY am I suddenly getting hooked on a word search game on a KIDS’ WEBSITE?? When Julie scored 48 points for a word, I just HAD to top her. Oh yeah – 57 points! But then it wouldn’t let me use a doozy of a word – warehouse – because it limits the words to 8 letters. What’s up with THAT? When I crashed and burned at level 7, I couldn’t rest until I got to 8… and then, wouldn’t you know it, the website announced a scheduled shut-down and then disappeared. IN THE MIDDLE OF MY HIGHEST SCORE YET! The audacity! I went to bed twitching and dreaming of words I could have used. (For those of you who are now determined to beat my score – sorry, you can only get on to Quizzy’s word search if your kid has a Webkinz toy and password!) Oh dear. Where do I sign up for Quizzy’s word search anonymous?
3. Did I tell you I joined a dragon boat racing team? Just for fun? Yeah, apparently I think it’s FUN to subject your body to an hour of torture a couple of times a week. And it’s FUN to suffer pain in muscles you never knew you had in the first place. And it’s oh so much FUN to have the steer-person yell at you “pull! hard!” just when you feel like you’re ready to melt into a puddle in the middle of the boat. Or vomit over the edge into the murky river water. Fun, baby. It’s fun. (In all seriousness, though, it really is fun. Watch for pictures after the tournament this weekend.)
Wondering
Two little girls. C & C. One’s in Julie’s class at school, and the other is Maddie’s friend from daycare. They live across the street. They’ve been to our house for play dates and birthday parties. The older C wants to grow up before her time. We see her wandering the street sometimes, looking more like a teenager than a little girl. She misses too much school for reasons unknown to us. She’s wearing sadness and the weight of life before her time. The younger C is shy and sweet. She has the most delightful smile that creeps onto her face when Maddie makes her giggle.
The other night, Marcel was taking the garbage out at midnight and saw the ruckus across the street. A man – we’re not sure which man – father of the kids or boyfriend of the mother – got handcuffed and hauled off in a police car. The older of the two C’s was there – in the parking lot with her older brother – talking to the policemen. There was no sign of the mother – a beautiful young woman who draws too much sadness to herself and her children.
That’s all we know. We haven’t seen the children since. I want to go looking for them, but I don’t know what to say. Do I knock on the door and say “we saw the ruckus and we want to make sure the children are safe?” Or do I simply send the girls across the street looking for a play date – just to make sure all is well?
Sometimes, I feel paralyzed when faced with other people’s pain.