I'm a Hooker!

I got your attention with that! But it's not what you're thinking. Two weeks ago at knitting one of the women showed me how to crochet. And I'm loving it. I've been knitting for two year now, thanks to my sister. I've made scarves and hats through knitting. But I have to admit that crocheting is faster. It's also simpler. I can redo work more easily. 

Knitting requires two needles but it's actually a pretty simple movement. Once you learn to knit and purl you can make pretty much anything. Crocheting only uses one hook (so it often gets the term hooking) but seems to require more movement. Each stitch needs to be done at least twice. But having only the one hook, work seems to go quicker. I noticed that our lone crocheter in the group could turn out a new item each week while us knitters plodded along on products for weeks. I decided it was well worth trying. I had been knitting a scarf but I think I might instead crochet myself some mittens. And these actually might be done before winter. 

I started with the book Stitch and Bitch which my sister lent me when I was just starting to knit. Now I might have to pick up a copy of The Happy Hooker, the authors take on crochet. I'm sure I'll jump back in forth between the two disciplines depending on what each project needs. But I'm thrilled that I now know both. I might actually prove to be a crafter one of these days. 

I'm apparently insane

I've noticed that a lot of my blog has been dealing with children's books recently. It's mostly what I've been reading. I also read multiple blogs about children's books or done by children's book authors and illustrators. In addition, I've been going to the library each week and bringing home about four or five children's books to read. So I decided to write up reviews of those books and share my ideas about children's books. That's why I've started Yet Another Children's Book Blog. Amazingly the name hadn't been taken. 

If you have no interest in children's books there is no reason to read it. I'll still post here regularly. But for those who like picture or chapter books, head on over and see what I've been reading. I've just started so it's a little sparse (haha, okay very sparse) but I'll add more in the next couple days. 

Let Them Eat Cake

This past week one of my favorite webcomics Unshelved pointed me towards a new blog. And this one is downright hilarious. I haven't laughed this hard since I found Fail Blog. The new one, which has already been bookmarked, is Cake Wrecks: When Professional Cakes Go Horribly, Hilariously Wrong. And similar to train wrecks, you simply can't look away. 

The site is dedicated entirely to terrible cakes. (Well, there are some amazingly pretty cakes, but they are few and far between.) Sometimes the cakes are homemade, and the mistakes can be overlooked. But a lot of the times these are professional cakes done by professional cake designers. And they are awful. Some are completely incoherent, some are just in horrible taste. You have to wonder what the people ordering the cakes and the bakers were thinking with some of them. I haven't read through the entire archive yet mostly because my stomach can't take anymore laughing right now. But I'll get through it. 

Here is just one of the horribly scary cakes, and this is one of the tamer ones. If you need a laugh, this blog is for you. 

Found Photo

I was digging through the numerous photos I've saved on my hard-drive at work and stumbled into this one. I hadn't seen it in a while. And the memories come flooding back. Jeff and I were driving around Providenciales (Turks and Caicos islands) and found this lonely stretch of road that wound up onto a hill. We were surrounded by luxury homes on this dirt one-lane path but no people. We stopped, set up a tripod, and took this shot. There was not another soul to be seen and behind us this beautiful blue sea. It's one of my favorite pictures of the two of us. Just thought I'd share. Amazing trip.

Poetry Friday

It's Poetry Friday and I'm moving away from nonsense poems for a week and giving you one of my favorite serious poems. It's short I promise. It fits so perfectly with my ideas about immortality/leaving a legacy.

This is Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away".

Yet Another Rant

I'm up on my soapbox again. Just consider yourself warned.

I came home from work last night to find that all the beautiful old trees along my street have been ripped out. Huge, mature trees have been pulled up by their roots and scattered along the roadside waiting for the wood chipper. I am disgusted. And why did they do such a terrible thing? Simple, they need to widen the street. Apparently two lanes is not enough and well...as you know, progress must take precedence. I was awful to see all the dead trees and I was a bit angry. Then I saw the creek. They are also pulling out trees along the creek that don't even come near the road. And now I'm pissed.

We chose this house because of it's proximity to the creek and the wooded area that borders the townhouse compound. I love that I get deer in my yard some evenings, either foraging or simply laying down. I can sit out in my front yard and watch tons of birds and the occasional animal. To see them tear out some of these beautiful trees just makes me ill. Add this to the fact that I had to spend some time on the DNR's website yesterday and happened to find their wildlife report. I thought that would be interesting reading. I could read about the reintroduction of peregrine falcons or how we are starting to see more mountain lions returning to the region. But a good chunk of the document instead covered deer. More specifically how well the herd management program was going.

And that, combined with the trees, just made me furious. Why are we the only species that doesn't watch it's population size? Our population has almost tripled in the last sixty years. From 2.5 billion in 1950 to an expected 7 billion shortly after 2010. We plow and pave gigantic sections of the world making them only habitable for humans. We call rabbits and deer pests when they eat the flowers we plant or when they step in front of our cars. And we can't understand why they would do that. Perhaps those roads cut off access for them to food sources. Perhaps the flowers we plant are regular food staples for them. I'm scared to see how many deer will die on the newly expanded road in front of my house. And that will only bring more legislation on herd management. We won't seem to see our involvement. We drive out creatures who are only looking to survive so that we can expand.

I'm not having children for a number of reasons. Some are selfish, some are not. But one of the reasons is that I feel that we humans have grabbed a little two much of the planet for ourselves. We push animals into small stretches of land and then get angry when they step back into the ever larger chunks that we steal for ourselves. I see other creatures constantly forced to make do with our scraps while we build ever larger freeways and push our cities out into the farmland. I hear of nature preserves losing funding and that extra money going toward bringing in new construction to destroy even more land. And sadly it seems never ending. According to a forecast done by the US Census Bureau, the world population will reach 8.5 billion during my lifetime. And I wonder what will be left of the planet to support them. And with 8.5 billion, will there be enough room for the other species.

One of the comics I read daily is Non Sequitur. Wiley Miller does some incredibly funny stuff but he can also be incredible poignant. He did this comic almost a year ago and I had to save it. It fits so perfectly with some of my thoughts. (for a larger size go here, I know it is hard to read)

Interview Whore

I am an interview whore. There now I've said it. I am drawn to interviews particularly with writers, artists, and illustrators. But my curiousity about people doesn't end with those. I love interviews with stateman and politicians, comics, actors, musicians, and sometimes just the average person. Mostly I love interviews with people who are passionate about their work. Who absolutely love what they do and want to share that information.

My earphones are constantly connected to my computer at work in case I run into an interview I just have to listen to. This morning alone I have listened to three interviews. One with Bill Maher, a comic/political junkie who I just adore. One with Tom Warburton on his new children's book A Thousand Times No. And one with Richard Dawkins, noted author and athiest. I'm sure there will be more today.

That's why I am so excited about the 5 Minute Interview series that the BBC has been doing. The interviews last a total of five minutes and Matt Stadlen, the interviewer, tries to cover as much ground as possible in that time. I've listened to fun interviews with Stephen Fry, Jesse Jackson, Jason Isaacs, Terry Pratchett, Michael Gambon, and Jerry Springer. They are the perfect soundbite and I find that I can listen and work at the same time. Stadlen has started carrying a giant alarm clock around with him which goes off when the five minutes are up. Some interviews flow, almost running over time. Some are tougher, requiring more prompting from Stadlen. The interviews tend to focus on UK figures which for me is an added bonus. I'm a considerable Anglophile. Quick interviews filled with fun facts and some wonderful people. My favorite new site.

Hiding Out

I'm not actually hiding out but the weekend kind of got away from me and I didn't get any actual posting done. I thought about it though. The weekend was really busy since my brother and his family came into town Friday night. We hung out with them on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday and had a great time. The kids were a ton of fun and we did a lot of running around on the front lawn shooting nerf things at each other. I helped my nephew Keith make a stop motion film and watched my nephew Scott play two new video games. We watched movies (lots of Pixar, yay!) and played games but spent most of our time eating. I ate so much this weekend and most of it good food.

Yesterday was a quiet day for Jeff and I. I had told everyone that it was our day. We went out to breakfast and then I came back home with the desire to get organized. I started upstairs and cleaned up our bedroom. Then I moved on to my library which is starting to look more like an actual library and less like a storage room. I did load after load of laundry and then finally settled on the couch to watch old NCIS reruns and go through all my magazines in order to get rid of them. I will be able to recycle at least 75 pounds of magazine and am keeping only about 100 pages of articles. And I got to see 4 new episodes. That show is my new favorite. And as is typical of me, I only seem to catch the reruns.

And although all of this was a lot of fun, my major excitement for the weekend was finding out that I have 30 pages on a story already written. I started this children's story about 10 years ago when I wrote the prologue. I have been adding to it slowly over the last couple years. Now I'm finally ready to finish it. I had thought that it had been lost due to replacing my old computers and lost discs so I was thrilled to find it, and to realize that it's not half bad. It's not good by any stretch but it's not terrible. That is what I have been focusing on. I finished the chapter that I had left open before and am now working on continuing on with the story. I hope to have it done by the end of fall so I can start revising it this winter. I may also post some of it here. We'll see.

All in all a wonderful weekend.

Picture Book To....Picture

A friend of mine just mentioned recently on Facebook that they were making a film out of Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. If I had to list my absolute favorite picture book from when I was growing up, it would be this book. I never got tired of reading it or looking at those great pictures of a town buried in food. (Apparently I was a hungry child.) Sony Pictures is making the film and I normally have high-regard for what they do. I watched the trailer and I'm a bit...well...concerned. Add that to the already dubious Where the Wild Things Are that is coming out from Warner Bros this year. The visuals look amazing for this film but somehow I know they'll get the tone wrong.

For those who know me I'm normally incredibly harsh to films based on books I've loved. The movies are just never as good. I am reminded of my Grandmother who saw Gone With the Wind for the first time and declared it was terrible. If anyone brought up the film she would scowl and say it was rubbish compared to the book. I'm guessing that's where I get my attitude. The trailer for Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs focuses on a young inventor who creates a food making machine that goes wrong. Of course this character never appeared in the book. There were really no characters in the book, other than the grandfather and the kids. The book was wonderful because it was so sedate. It told the story of the town in a documentary style. The town itself became the main character. The movie looks to be zany in a way that makes me nervous. I know it's tough to stretch a 32 page book into a film but the question remains, why try? Just read the book.


I have to give credit where credit is due though. There have been a couple movies that have lived up to the picture books they were based on. The one I'm thinking of in particular is Meet the Robinsons by Disney. The film is based on the book A Day With Wilbur Robinson by William Joyce and matches the zany bizarre world that Joyce creates. Perhaps the film is so good because Joyce was involved in the design and screenplay. The book and screenplay are very different (with many added characters) but it is done while staying true to the tone of the book. The dialogue is hilarious, particularly the newly created Bowler-Hat Man. Its a very quotable film that somehow manages to be touching at the end. I've even talked to people who've cried at the end of the movie, a rarity for an animated film. So I have to admit, there was a film that actually compared well to the book. Now I'll just have to hold out hope for the others.

New Header

In an attempt to avoid writing this evening I decided to play with Blogger a little. It took me a while to figure out that I needed to crop the image in order for it to fit. And then I learned that blogger doesn't really like to let you change font sizes, particularly not in the header. I ended up getting to play with the html code to make it a bit bigger. I've had some basic html writing instruction but not enough to be able to create websites. It was much easier to read than I expected. I need to learn more. Back to the library for me for books on computing. Until then, enjoy the new header. 

I Married a Meatatarian

When Wendy's came out with their Meatatarian commericals, Jeff and I just died laughing. I finally had a name for what he is. Jeff is the epitome of a meat-and-potatoes guy. If he could eat nothing but bacon cheeseburgers and fries for the rest of his life he would be happy. Throw in the occasional chicken fried steak and he'd be in heaven. I like to joke that if it has flavor, Jeff won't like it.

But I have to say he's been very good about my decision to become a vegetarian. I already avoided most meat, simply because I don't like the taste. So when I finally made the call to cut out meat entirely, it wasn't much of a stretch for me. I miss the occasional salmon sushi or bacon with breakfast, but overall I'm pretty content. For Jeff this has been a bit more of a shift. Not cooking wise, since we've always made our own meals. But in our choice of restaurants. We no longer go out to Barbeque places, because there is nothing for me on the menu. Steakhouses are also no longer mentioned. He's been great about eating more asian and indian food with me where the choices are almost overwhelming. He's just been great about the whole thing, well other than the occasional bacon taunting.

I've been thinking about this because my brother and his family are coming in town this weekend so eating should get interesting. Red Robin and Cosi Cucina (a local italian place) are no problems for me. At Red Robin, I can get a Boca patty on any of their specialty burgers. Cosi has half a page of vegetarian options, all of which are really tasty. But one of their other favorite places is Famous Dave's; and I don't know of anything there that I can eat. I'm sure that I'll be able to find at least something that I can remove the chicken from. They supposedly have some decent salads. Jeff, of course, will be in heaven.

The big thing I'm trying to learn is to not be embarrased to ask them to take the chicken off or to prepare it differently. I've always been one of those people who hated to send a meal back or have it special ordered. I didn't want to be a bother or I didn't want the waitress to be upset. I'm not sure why I thought that would happen. I'm normally pretty polite. This stepping outside of my comfort zone might be good for me. And it will give Jeff a chance to get to some of his favorite restaurants again. After all, Jeff and I have been at opposite ends of the food spectrum for over a decade now and somehow we've survived.

Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus

Since I started drawing again, I've felt a bit like a small child. I've been doing mostly free-hand drawing but today I spent my lunch hour having fun with Microsoft Paint. I started by drawing the cartoon tire and when I attached it to the bus, I knew I had to make it a tribute to one of my favorite children's books, Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus by Mo Willems. I've read enough interviews with Mo to know that he won't mind that I copied his character. It was a ton of fun and really simple. Which is exactly why it looks like a four year old did it!

Reading Weekend

I spent most of the weekend reading. I haven't given myself the chance to just sit around and read in a while and it was blissful. I took long hot baths and read. I curled up in bed and read. I ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner reading. Other than helping a friend move on Saturday, having dinner with my parents on Friday, and breakfast with Jeff and mushroom hunting on Sunday, all I did was read. Part of that was just enjoying the chance to curl up. But a good part of it was the books.

Two weeks ago my possibly hopefully soon-to-be brother-in-law (long story) handed me a book he had loved in his youth and suggested I read it. It was D'shai by Joel Rosenberg. I had started it during the week and it became my constant companion. I would pull the book out for lunches and the bits of time I get during the week. But over the weekend I devoured the rest of it. The idea is intriquing although I was a bit disappointed by the ending. Rosenberg creates a world where people are born into their positions. Warriors give birth to warriors, acrobats give birth to acrobats. They each have a magical energy call Kazuh that they can raise when they are doing well at their task. Think of a runner's high, that moment when mind falls away and the body can carry on for an almost unlimited time. The story follows an acrobat/juggler who is simply not as adept as everyone else. He is clearly not a kazuh acrobat. When the troupe arrives in town he becomes embroiled in a love triangle with deadly consequences. He is called upon to solve the murders and in that way finds his magical energy.

The book itself was interesting but the idea of Kazuh was what kept me fascinated. This idea of finding ones strength and knowing it because it will become effortless is a unique one. We are each born with unique gifts and the idea that these would seem natural to us made me really think. I enjoyed the book with the political intrique and mystery but again the ending left me disappointed. The mystery did not provide enough clues for the reader to even hazard a guess. The society though and it's magical gifts (all based on balance) kept me reading until very late last night. I'm paying for it this morning. (Thank god for coffee)

On Friday Seven Impossible Things profiled illustrator Christopher Denise. I instantly fell in love with his work. His picture book Me With You (written by Kristy Dempsey) is so incredibly adorable that I had to show his rainy day picture around. I love the soft expressions on his characters faces and the just beautiful quality of his work. I was curious to see that he'd done some illustration work for some of the Redwall books by Brian Jacques. I had Redwall sitting on my bookcase at home waiting to be read. So I picked it up over the weekend. And hardly set it down again until it was finished. This amazing story of the mice and woodland creatures living in Redwall Abbey who battle the evil rat Cluny the Scourge was exciting and magical. There was constant action, and constant danger. The characters were all livable (or in Cluny's case, despicable). The story follows Mattias the mouse, who is not really cut out for the abbey. He has dreams of being a warrior. When Cluny attacks, he discovers that he might be the greatest mouse warrior ever. He must face sparrows, snakes, and of course rats to keep the abbey safe. The action was thrilling but the characters were what really drove the story. I loved Constance the badger. This book reminded me of Wind in the Willows, just with a lot more bloodshed.

Over the weekend I read two fantasy novels in a very short period of time. I simply couldn't stop. When my nephew comes for a visit this weekend I will have to recommend Redwall for him. It's right up his alley. This was a great weekend to remember how much I love fantasy writers. Two very different books but both equally engaging. Now I just have to find a new book. Maybe one that won't keep me up so late.

'Shrooms

Today was cold and a little rainy so of course I had to get out in it. Why is it that I tend to stay in and read or play on nice days but the rainy days are almost always outdoor days? My dad had texted me yesterday to see about going birdwatching/mushroom hunting. I can't pass up the chance to be out in the woods. Dad was looking for morels to take home and cook up but we had no luck in that department. I was just hoping for a nice big puffball. I love that they can grow to about basketball size. 

I'm not good about staying on the path when I'm hiking. I tend to just wander off into the woods cutting my own trail or following a deer trail. Thankfully Dad is the same way. We never even touched the nice nature trail the park offered and instead set out in our own direction. The focus was on mushroom hunting but we were interested in pretty much any and all unusual plants. I found this beautiful flower hidden under some huge umbrella like leaves. It's called a May Apple.

We hadn't found any mushrooms yet although I'm not the best at spotting them on the ground. I am excellent with shelf mushrooms though (mushrooms growing into the sides of trees). I found these different types of Turkey Tails. Here is the pure white:

The red and white.

And the grey. 

All members of the same type just with different coloration. Shelf mushrooms often form on dead logs. They are normally easy to spot because they tend to be white or light colors in contrast with the dark wood of the tree. Only hen of the wood shelf mushrooms are truly edible, and only with caution. In fact, unless you can positively identify a mushroom (100% certain) you should never ever eat a wild mushroom. There are only a couple types that aren't poisonous and even the experts are wary. 

Finally we found this interesting looking Dyer's Bracket mushroom. It was the only one of size that we found. It was about the size of my whole hand and just as thick. Cool mushroom but still not edible. 

I loved getting a chance to be out in the woods. We did find this amazing tree that looks like it had been twisted up. I took a couple pictures and both Dad and I speculated on how it had gotten that way. Still not sure. That's not bark by the way. The bark was gone. 

Dad took one mushroom home to try to identify but no real good haul. No mushrooms for me tonight. 

Poetry Friday

I'm a huge Lewis Carroll fan, which I'm sure I've mentioned before. So today's poem is one of his. This is from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and is recited by Alice to the Caterpillar. I just love the nonsense of it. The image below the poem is a portion of one of the illustrations by Sir John Tenniel that graced the original work.

You Are Old, Father William by Lewis Carroll

'You are old, Father William,' the young man said,'
And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head -
Do you think, at your age, it is right?''

In my youth,' Father William replied to his son,'
I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.''

You are old,' said the youth, 'as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door -
Pray, what is the reason of that?''

In my youth,' said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,'
I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment - one shilling the box -
Allow me to sell you a couple?''

You are old,' said the youth, 'and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak -
Pray how did you manage to do it?''

In my youth,' said his father, 'I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life.''

You are old,' said the youth, 'one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose -
What made you so awfully clever?''

I have answered three questions, and that is enough,'
Said his father; 'don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!'

Pally Fun

If it seems like I never talk WoW anymore that is because I've hardly been playing at all. I've been trying so hard to concentrate on my writing and drawing that I've hardly allowed myself any play time. I think of the fact that I've wanted to be a published writer since I was 14. And I will be. I know that for a fact. Being the best Warlock in the WoW universe has never been a goal for me although I have a great time playing. So I keep thinking about where my priorities should lie. Mostly nowadays I play for the social aspect. My guild is a ton of fun and when we raid it's just great. My sister laughs at me for saying that I'm "hanging out" with the guild, since we're spread out throughout the country. But for me it does feel like hanging out with friends.

But to be completely honest, I'm bored of my warlock. I have no more quests to do, almost no more profession levels to get, and hardly any instances that I haven't explored. I'm not big into achievements so I have little to do with the character. And grinding money and rep is starting to feel more like a job than play time. So I haven't touched Myraina in weeks, except to instance and raid with the guild. Instead I've focused my little play time on my new Paladin. And I just love her. It's so much fun to be leveling again. And with a tank like character. My 42 paladin doesn't break a sweat unless I'm either killing 46 level mobs or 4 level 40 mobs at a time. She can heal herself and still take damage. It's just too much fun.

The only problem I've found with being a paladin is that everytime I log on, I am invited to instance within a matter of minutes. I am whispered constantly by complete strangers with an invitation to one dungeon or the other. I was retribution specced but that didn't seem to stop the invites. Most of the time I've begged off saying that I'm just interested in leveling. But last night I got a request to help with Scarlet Monastery. I figured why not. It is well below my level and would be good practice. I ended up tanking since I was surrounded by much lower level characters. And I loved tanking. It was frantic, engaging, and tough. I really enjoyed the challenge of it, particularly since I'm not tank specced. After the instance (we only completed two quarters before everyone had to go) I ran to Ironforge and duel-specced. I'm going to be a tank. And I'm so incredibly excited. Instances here I come.

Thunderbolt Kid

I'm apparently on a Bill Bryson kick. Last week I read Shakespeare: The World as Stage and this week I just finished Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid. I think I've read all of Bryson's books now and have enjoyed every single one of them. One of the better humor/travel writers of our times. I learned a lot from the Shakespeare book but I laughed a lot more with Thunderbolt Kid. While Shakespeare took me a couple days to work through, Thunderbolt Kid was gone over the weekend. I couldn't stop reading it.

Bill Bryson tells a hilarious story of growing up in the 1950s in Des Moines. As a Des Moines native myself this book is wonderful for all the great history. I know many of the places he talks about. The downtown Younkers building that he speaks of so affectionately was where I had my first job out of college. And not on the sales floor. I was working up in advertising and got to spend a lot of my time in the bowels of the building. It was an interesting building. Many of the streets he talks about are my current daily commute. (Grand or Ingersoll) Some of the houses he mentions in the South of Grand area are still standing. Some things may have changed but some things (like my love of Bishops cafeteria) will never die.

But the book is not just Des Moines history. This is the story of Bryson's family but also about the outside world in general. His discussion on nuclear energy and our plans for it in the fifties are enough to make me cringe and laugh at the same time. As he puts it, we were apparently indestructable. I guess at one point the government was even looking into rocket mail delivery. This was the time when some of my favorite SciFi writers were really ramping up. Space travel, Mars colonies. Bryson describes all of the scientific fever of the day brilliantly.

The Thunderbolt Kid was Bryson's alter ego in the book. A superhero who develops x-ray vision for the purpose of looking under clothes. (and even removing restricting clothing) The fact that it can vaporize annoying people was just a side bonus. So Bryson goes through the book vaporizing stupid people, growing up, and exploring his city. So much of this book was laugh out loud funny. His stories about his family were odd and wonderful but I could also identify with them. All families are quirky in their own way. One of his closing stories, about a bomb one of his friends built, had me literally on the floor laughing. This book is a love story to a changed city but also a humorous reflection on what it meant to be a kid in the fifties. Well worth a read.

Fantastical Art

Have you ever been introduced to an artist over and over? And each time you see his work you are amazed and impressed but still don't retain the name. I have been introduced to Tony Diterlizzi in various forms several times in the last couple years. I'm always awed by his detailed art and his depth of character. His characters show such a huge range of emotions. He has a very beautiful style of art but for some reason I am shocked every time I see his name. I not sure why I can't recognize his work instantly but I can't.

A couple years ago while digging around in my parent's children's book library I stumbled upon a version of The Spider and the Fly, the cautionary poem by Mary Howitt. The poem itself is fun and dark but the illustration in the book took my breath away. They were amazing. Funny and dark and detailed in a way I hadn't seen before. The spider oozed charm and menace. The fly, in her little flapper dress and hat, was the picture of flighty innocence. The ghosts, who tried to warn the fly, practically shimmered on the page. It was a beautiful book. At the time I noticed that it was done by Tony Diterlizzi but then promptly forgot.

The same is true when I read the first of the Spiderwick Chronicles. My nephew again brought me a book and told me that I had to read it. I read the first in an afternoon. I enjoyed the first book immensely but never followed on with the series. Most of you already know my aversion to series. The artwork inside was fun, and strangely enough reminded me of my old D&D artwork. I would later find out that Tony has done work for them too. Tony co-wrote the books with Holly Black. But again the name escaped me.

So this weekend I ended up at the library picking up tons of books on illustration and some children's books. I picked up The Dangerous Alphabet that I'll have to talk about later. (that one needs its own post). But one the illustration books I picked up was "The Art of Reading", a book put out to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the Reading is Fundamental program. In the book, well-loved authors and illustrators talk about the books that made them love reading. They also draw a picture from the book. It is a wonderful book that I have been reading through voraciously. But what really caught my eye was a picture of a little pig. It was the third or fourth page in and this little pig is picking flowers. Simple little illustration but the emotion on this little pig is both laughable and sad at the same time. It is such an incredibly cute creature. So I look at the artist signature and of course it is Tony Diterlizzi. Of course.

I went to his website and was completely bowled over. I've seen so much of this man's work and didn't realize it. I would seriously recommend heading over for a little bit. Not only is that little pig there, but Tony offers a ton of nice downloads and wallpapers along with sketches and finished pages from his books. I own The Spider and Fly. Now I just have to buy the rest. Beautiful. And from now on, I'll remember this name.

Play Hooky

This will be quick. I'm playing hooky from work today. Okay well technically I'm on vacation but I have a gripe to share. Jeff and I both took the day off with the idea that we would catch an afternoon baseball game. Neither of us have ever been to one and it just seemed the epitomey of luxury. To spend an afternoon sitting at the baseball diamond, eating peanuts, drinking beer, while our coworkers sat in tiny dark cubicles. Delicious. 

So we took the day off. Got up for an appointment at school but then went out for a late breakfast. Puttered around the house until about 12:20. Then we headed downtown to the park. We were a couple blocks away when we noticed something abnormal. School buses. Tons of school buses. School buses lining every curve. I told Jeff that they were probably going to the Science Center. That would make a good field trip. "please be going to the science center!!!" But alas no such luck. They were all at the ballpark. When did we decide that a baseball game was a good field trip. I never got to go when I was a kid. What exactly do kids "learn" at a baseball game on a Monday afternoon. And why did they have to pick this day, of all days, to go. Grrrr. 

Jeff and I turned around, tails between our legs, and headed home. We'll find some other way to spend a Monday afternoon than with several thousand children who have access to large quantities of sugar. I'm sad about the game but I'm not crazy. Grrr. 

Sorry...just had to vent.

Learning to Fail

I'm 32 years old and I just finally figured out that failing at something is not the end of the world. I don't know why it took me so long but the revelation is a bit intoxicating. For the first time in my life I'm allowing myself the freedom to try and fail. And then try and fail again. And again.

For the last year or so I've been trying to learn to draw. I desperately want to illustrate my own children's books. But the pattern went something like this. Try a drawing, find that it was not good, crumple it up, toss it away, and give up for the day. Not conducive to learning. Instead it just made me feel that I'd never learn. For some reason, these past two weeks, I have gotten it into my head that whatever I produce is a learning process. Bad drawings happen. And now I'm having a ton of fun drawing. There is no pressure to be good. No worry about messing up. I carry an eraser with me at all times now. And for the first time I'm producing drawings that I think are okay. Not great, not perfect but okay. I just had to give myself permission to fail. 

Success is not final. Failure is not fatal. It is courage that matters--Winston Churchill

Poetry Friday

Short and sweet poem for Friday. And one of my favorites.

This is Just to Say
William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

Reading Rockets

I was working at Heartland AEA when I was first introduced to the Reading Rockets program. Back then it had only a couple video programs that it produced but they were really well done. The videos would talk about skills for teaching reading or activities for teachers to try and they always included an author interview. I loved the author interviews. I always wished the videos had more of them.

So I was in heaven this past week to find out that there is now a Reading Rockets webpage and that it includes quite a few author interviews. Some of the best loved children's authors and illustrators have 15 minute interviews talking about how they create their work. Yesterday alone I listened to videos of Mo Willems, Lane Smith, Lois Lowery, Chris Van Allsburg, Jon J. Muth, Jon Scieszka, and Kate DiCamillo. These are not unknown authors. These are some of the top names in children's books. All good interviews and all free. For anyone who is a fan of children's books or interested in writing, this is a fantastic website all around.

The goal of the site is "Launching Young Readers". It has book lists, reading news, tips for teachers and parents, and a ton more. And then for me, the children's book geek, it has an amazing treasure trove of information about authors and illustrators. Well worth checking out.

Don't Know Much About...Shakespeare

Like most kids I was first introduced to one of Shakespeare's plays in my freshman year of high school. We were required, like pretty much everyone else, to read Romeo and Juliet. The play was good but mostly I remember that I was forced to read it and how much of a joke we all thought it was at the time. In my Junior year I took advanced literature and we read Julius Caesar. Except we read it in modern translation. For some reason "Friends, Romans, Country people, listen to me" just doesn't have the same ring as "Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Lend me your ears." It was an even bigger joke. I actually got in trouble for following along in the old English.

It wasn't until I actually sat down on my own and read Twelfth Night that I fell in love with Shakespeare. I took a course in college where we dissected at least 8 of his plays. I loved reading them in the old translation and understanding the jokes and asides behind them. What they didn't teach me in high school was that Shakespeare was funny and insightful and political. I was just told that he was a classic and that I had to read him. And he is a classic and his plays should be read. But not just because he is listed as a classic. Shakespeare's work is some of the most copied or used works ever. His plays define the most common plot styles. More words and common phrases have come out of Shakespeare's work than any other writer in history. Yet we know almost nothing about him. I certainly didn't learn anything about his life in high school or college.

So this past week I picked up Bill Bryson's Shakespeare: The World as Stage with the desire to learn a little bit more about his history. I was in for a rude awakening. We don't really know that much about him in general. There are large periods of time in his history that we have no idea what city he was even in. We can't say for certain what day he was born. We know a little bit about his father who was not the provincial that every claims he was. We know some of the plays that he wrote but we are missing a few. We know he acted in all the plays he wrote, although we will probably never know the order in which he wrote them. We don't even really know what he looked like.

The sonnets, some of Shakespeare's most romantic poems, were written for a young man although we don't know his relationship to that young man. We know he was married and that he had two daughters but we have no idea what sort of relationship he had with any of them. For a while I guess there was a claim going around that Shakespeare didn't own any books. The sad fact is that other than two houses, a couple beds, a sword, and a silver bowl, we have no idea what sort of things he owned. We aren't even sure if the will he left is his own. Or really how to spell his name. (He himself spelled it six or seven different ways).

Bryson of course does touch on the statements that have been made that Shakespeare didn't write the works that are attributed to him. I waited for most of the book to hear his take on the controversy. And Bryson delivered. It was interesting to learn the history of where these accusations have come from. Most of the people who came up with these theories were either completely loony (actually the last name of one of the accusers) or basing the accusation on no actual evidence. For most of the people doubting, it is based entirely on an idea that Shakespeare wasn't smart enough to write the plays. And my favorite point was that no one, for the first 100 years after Shakespeare's death, questioned his authorship. Many praised his work during his own time. I would think that would be proof enough.

I've read a lot of Shakespeare's work, some in classes, some on my own. I've marveled at his turn of phrase and fantastic flair for the dramatic. The soliloquies in Hamlet, the staging of Macbeth, the humor of Much Ado About Nothing. The man was an amazing writer. I bet he was a good actor as well. Sadly, the world will never know.

Exercising a Little Freedom of Speech

Voltaire once said (and I'm paraphrasing) "I may disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it". And I consider that true. Free speech is the cornerstone of our society and I feel that everyone should be able to say what they like. But that said I can also exercise my right to free speech and plan to do so by going out to silently protest the Westboro Baptist Church who will be in Des Moines today to protest gay marriages. Yeah I'm protesting the protestors.

About a month ago the Iowa Supreme Court found that it was a violation of civic rights to deny marriage to homosexual couples. This makes Iowa the third state to allow gay marriage and I couldn't be prouder of my state. Last monday the first weddings took place. A week later Westboro Baptist Church, based out of Topeka, Kansas, is coming to protest. For those who don't know this is the church that was protesting at military funerals because the war is (and I'm using their words not mine) "God's punishment for homosexuality". So basically these people are crazy. I thought about posting a link to their website so you could read their blather but really, I don't want to promote this kind of hatred and intolerance.

My sisters and I have decided to silently protest the church's protest. I'm taking my lunch hour to grab sandwiches and sit down at the courthouse. It should be interesting, if not informative. I'll try to post an update after the event. Wish me luck.

Update: No protesters, no scenes. Apparently no one from Westboro showed up. Instead I had a lovely lunch with my sisters at the foot of the capitol. Sorry Em, woke you up for nothing.

Fernando Falcone

Did I mention that I like slightly unusual art? I'm pretty sure I have once or twice before. The mixing of the dark with the bizarre makes me a very happy person. So when I saw Fernando Falcone's Mad Tea Party this morning I had to check out the rest of his work.

Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast went back this morning to look at all the Tea Party images they have used or gathered over the years. All of them are interesting (and you have to love the original Tenniel) but one of them really caught my eye. This one from Argentine artist Fernando Falcone is my ideal image of Alice, dark, spooky, and surreal.

I wandered over to his website and although I don't speak much Spanish I fell in love with the imagery. His art has just the right touch of bizarre and dark and even a little creepy. A lot of his material has a political feel, particularly his ones on education or medicine. And the Alice images (one of my favorite books) are so incredible. If only someone would design an animated film using his images. I'm so fascinated. Now to find a print at a reasonable price.

Raiding Woes

I woke up on Sunday at 8 with a desire to write. Not blog writing but the kind of writing I did through most of my high school and college days. Novel writing, poetry writing, story writing. I had breakfast plans with a friend at 10:30 so I figured I had plenty of time to get some good writing in and then have breakfast. But again the best laid plans...

My friend called early and we went out earlier for breakfast. And then we went shopping. Now I'm not a huge shopping fan. Particularly not for clothes. But we ended up out for about 5 and a half hours. I was dead tired. My feet hurt and I just wanted to lie on the couch and pretend that the world didn't exist. Again I had a great time out but by the time I got home I was exhausted. And here's the weird part. I didn't want to raid. Thursdays, Sundays, and sometimes Mondays are regular raid nights for my guild. I normally look forward to these chances to hang out with the guild. Last night, I just wanted to sleep.

And it seemed like everyone else was feeling the same way. Our MT had bronchitus and could barely talk. Most everyone was pretty quiet. There was only minimal chatter. We really weren't feeling it. And it showed. Normally we can sweep through two quarters easily in a night. Last night we struggled through one. We died a couple times on Maexxnia, a boss fight that we hadn't had an issue with in a while. We forgot to explain the Grand Widow fight to one of our newcomers and came close to wiping. By the time we finished Arachnid, at 10, everyone was done. We opted not to go on. I logged off immediately and was in bed and fast asleep by 11.

We had included a number of alts in the run last night and that may have contributed but it seemed like more. Everyone seemed tired and not really into it. By this time of night I had lost my desire to write and was only thinking about sleep. If I could have gone to bed at 8 last night I would have. And today my feet are still feeling bad from the walking. We have dinner plans this evening so no chance to relax tonight. I hope by Thursday I'm ready to raid. Until then I'll try to get some writing done.

Poetry Fridays

Last Friday I mentioned a poem that my dad used to read to us called The Twins. Over the week I found it. Even if you are not a huge poetry fan, give this a quick read. It's a wonderfully funny poem.

Other than that I'm just ready to get through the day and start my weekend. I had diversity training all morning so this feels like kind of a vacation day already. I'll try to post over the weekend since I don't have a ton of huge plans. I'm leveling a Paladin so I guarentee there will be a lot of WoW in the next day or so. Other than that maybe some photography. I love quiet weekends!

And for your enjoyment. The Twins by Henry Sambrooke Leigh.

In form and feature, face and limb,
I grew so like my brother,
That folks got taking me for him,
And each for one another.

It puzzled all our kith and kin,
It reached a fearful pitch;
For one of us was born a twin,
Yet not a soul knew which.

One day, to make the matter worse,
Before our names were fixed,
As we were being washed by nurse,
We got completely mixed;

And thus, you see, by fate's decree,
Or rather nurse's whim,
My brother John got christened me,
And I got christened him.

This fatal likeness even dogged
My footsteps when at school,
And I was always getting flogged,
For John turned out a fool.

I put this question, fruitlessly,
To everyone I knew,
"What would you do, if you were me,
To prove that you were you?"

Our close resemblance turned the tide
Of my domestic life,
For somehow, my intended bride
Became my brother's wife.

In fact, year after year the same
Absurd mistakes went on,
And when I died, the neighbors came
And buried brother John.