The World is Quiet Here

{Spoilers in this post. If you have any interest in reading A Series of Unfortunate Events, this is not for you}

The first time I read A Bad Beginning, the first book in the series A Series of Unfortunate Events, I hated it. I didn't understand the author's brand of humor and his constant definitions drove me crazy. I chocked it up to "not my taste" and put it away. Then I picked it up again this past year and loved it. I read every one of the 13 books. I couldn't stop talking about them. I loved the humor. I loved the characters. I loved the definitions. But most of all I loved the VFD.

The concept of a secret society that for lack of a better word fights crime appeals to me. Even better a secret society that uses knowledge to do it, whatever form that knowledge takes. The title of this post is the VFD's motto. It hung above their library, a safe place in a chaotic world. They are a society that values learning, that values creativity, that values curiosity. The idea is inspiring to me. For me the tales of the Baudelaire orphans were more about learning how much power they had through their curiosity and knowledge.

Klaus, the reader and scholar, is who I identified with, but each of the characters has their own strengths. Klaus's ability remember the things he reads, his unrelenting curiosity, his copious note-taking, are all things I admire. He's the bookworm of the three and I saw myself in his role. I'm not an inventor like Violet or a cook/biter like Sunny. But I can read and remember with the best of them. As Klaus stood in that burned library and read the words above the door, I had chills go through me. Partly they were about the burned library (horrific) but partly they were because I'd found a motto I could agree with.

The world is quiet here, is what I think every time I walk into my own personal library. Here I can learn and study and be at peace, away from the stress of the world. I want to paint it above my door. I want to tattoo it on my skin. Curiosity and knowledge are two things I value very highly. How wonderful to find the same value in a children's book series.

Happy Hunting

There's something special about wildlife encounters. Every time I see a deer crossing the road or a bunny eating grass at twilight I get a little thrill. And then when it is a bigger more elusive animal, it's even more magical. I've seen a porcupine in a tree, a fox one morning before work, pheasants crossing the road, and even a wolf. And each time I stop whatever I'm doing and just watch. I like to say that spending time with wildlife and nature is the closest feelings I have to a religion. Bird, mammal, even insect encounters can feel like magic to me.

I've had two hawk encounters at home in the last couple months. The first was when I noticed a ground squirrel making an alarm call on the patio. The chipmunk alarm call is loud, loud enough that you have no idea how such a small creature makes such an intense, and irritating, noise. I went to the window to see the little guy sitting on top of my air conditioner, calling away. I was curious about what had alarmed him, until a hawk walked around the side of the air conditioner. Walked. It was already on the ground hunting the chipmunk. But sadly the little bugger had eluded him. We tried to get pictures of this huge (and beautiful) bird just standing on the patio but before we could snap a picture he noticed Jeff and was gone.

See how close I am       ^

The second encounter was just this past weekend. For anyone who's a Facebook friend you've already seen one of these pictures. On Saturday I'm sitting on the couch knitting when all of a sudden Jeff gasps. Then tells me, in a low whisper, to look to my right. Sitting on the patio fence is this beautiful hawk. He's alternating watching us and watching the mice that I keep unfortunately attracting to the feeder. There are several of them below him but he's taking his time to hunt. Jeff grabbed the camera and this bird was far more accomodating than the previous one. He sat for about 25 minutes, watching the mice, debating an attack. All the while we snapped photos and video. It was only when my neighbors left to go out that he flew away. I was less than 10 feet away from this bird. I was able to watch him at leisure. It was such a fantastic moment. I only wish he had managed to get one of the mice. Before they find their way in. Wildlife encounters are wonderful...in the wild. Not in the house.

[Edit: I forgot about Jeff's encounter in mid-summer with the bird below. He/she landed on the fence and mantled there. Then after a while it dropped to the ground to spread its wings further. I wonder if most of these encounters are the same bird. The stomach banding is the same. The bird below (the earlier one taken) has yellow eyes, but hawks eyes often darken as they age. I wonder if we are seeing our juvenile all grown up. 

Forgetting Practicality

I'm dealing right now with a creative block that is far more extreme than any of the ones I've had before. I'm letting my work situation and my fears about the future get the best of me. And sadly whenever I sit down to write I keep thinking about money. "If this won't pay the bills, aren't I just wasting my time?" is the question that plagues me. And it instantly kills whatever I was going to write, or create.

I've always been a practical person. Given the choice of a car, I'll always pick the dependable one. I look at the consequences of every single one of my decisions. And I keep falling back on words I heard a lot as a child, how will you make a living as a writer? Those questions dug into my psyche and wedged there. For the last couple years I've been so focused on paying the bills, that I've forgotten about writing. It doesn't help the bottom line, after all.

What I've also forgotten is how much I used to love just making things up for the fun of it. I used to do it all the time. I still tell myself stories in the car and find it far more entertaining than any music on the radio. I love stories and storytelling. And I miss them. This week I'm going to start stories again.  I'm going to play with words and write down ideas. It won't be good writing, but it'll be writing. And I bet it will make me happy. I need to remind myself that anything that makes me happy is worthwhile. Anything that sparks my interest and soul is worth pursuing. I might never sell a story or a poem. But I will start enjoying myself. Which is more than I have been doing.

"The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something."
~Kurt Vonnegut

Playing with Pictures

For my birthday this past year I asked for a camera I could carry around in my pocket. As I'm still technologically backwards when it comes to phones, I don't have anything on me that would take pictures that I could then download. My poor ancient cell phone takes pictures but has no way to transfer them. So I wanted a small camera that still took good photos.

My parents bought me the Canon Elph 530HS. I honestly can't remember a birthday present I'm more excited about. I find that I'm taking pictures of things just for the sake of playing with it. This camera has a number of setting that allow me to take tilt-shift photos, fisheye photos, and other gimmicky shots. It also offers video and slow motion video. Just the basic setting takes pictures that are ten time brighter and better than the ones from my old camera. I love my new toy.

Two weeks ago I took the camera out to play with the Snow setting. Since it's Iowa in winter, I didn't have to look far to find snow. Above is the view of the creek right outside our door. Lovely with the snow isn't it? The shots are crisp and bright. But the real advantage of the new camera is the zoom. Note the area across the creek, under the branch on the right. Here is the zoomed in photo. Aren't those cool snow structures? I wouldn't have seen them if it wasn't for the zoom. It's as good as some binoculars I own. And the photos are still crisp.

I took the camera to all of my family events last week. I took video and photos and only had one or two that came out badly, a sharp contrast to my previous camera. With that one, I would be lucky to have one or two that came out. Something like the picture below would never have come out.

I'll leave you with one last picture. It's of the newest guest to visit my bird feeder, a less than welcome guest. Hint: It's not the squirrel. Jeff had to forcibly remove it from our garage this afternoon. It's becoming more and more of a frequent visitor so I might have to end up doing something. We'll have to wait and see.

Poetry Friday

I've been reading a lot of  Billy Collins lately. And I mean a lot. Collins writes perfect poems to read when you don't have a lot of time and want to dip in occasionally. I have a copy of his Sailing Alone Around the Room on my dining room table. I pick it up when I have a moment, open to a random page and fall into Collins world. He's a poet that mixes humor and poignancy. When I read his work, I'm transported to a calmer more enjoyable world, normally his house. His focus on home resonates with me. I just love his work. But I probably shouldn't explain so much about it. As he points out in this poem, we often think too hard about poetry.

Introduction to Poetry
by Billy Collins

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a rubber hose
to find out what it really means.

Thinking of Diving

The first time I dove, anywhere besides a pool, I nearly panicked. I was 35 feet down in perfect crystal clear water off the Turks and Caicos islands, when I realized I was all by myself. My sister was slowly coming down the anchor chain. My older sister and the instructor were still at the surface. I was all alone. And my only thought was...surface...surface...surface. Scuba divers are taught that the worst possible thing they can do is shoot to the surface (it's the fast track to the bends). But that was the only thing in my mind. It felt weird to be on the sandy bottom looking up. It didn't feel natural. I worried that I wasn't breathing. I took a deep breath and worried that I couldn't breathe. It didn't make sense. Then I did the strangest thing. I took my mask off.

It was my first instinct other than shooting to the surface. Instead I pulled my mask off and put it back on. I cleared it. I checked my pressure gauge. I checked my depth gauge. And then I knelt quietly in the sand and waited for the rest of my group. And I was fine after that. I used the routines that I'd been taught to steady my nerves. And once that initial moment was over I started to enjoy. I was diving in some of the prettiest water I'd ever seen. There was coral everywhere along with fish and sponges. I even saw a barracuda that first dive. I wasn't completely comfortable but I wasn't anxious. I loved that first dive and the ones after it. I still get nervous before every dive. I have a horrible fear of drowning. But I love the colors and the wildlife. I love the sound of bubbles rising. I love the feeling of weightlessness where nothing but my own breath (and my buddy's) is important.

The first fish I saw underwater

It's been a couple years since I last dove. I herniated a disc diving and haven't been since. But this past weekend I finished reading a fascinating history of diving and memoir and have been thinking about getting back in the water again. I'm no longer too nervous to dive and the experience is so worth the fear. There are underwater worlds to discover, and I know that I've been trained well enough that I can enjoy them safely. When the summer comes, I'll be back in the water, ready to dive.

Happy New Year!

I'm sitting in the middle of a messy house, eating chocolates left over from Christmas, and wondering what I'm going to resolve for 2013. I like New Years. I'm a fan of beginnings. They seem so filled with promise. And I love resolutions. Not accomplishing them really. Just thinking them up. I'm good at thinking them up. This year, I'm resolving to be more mindful. More awake. Oh and to blog more.

I've been on vacation for the last 10 days and much of it was spent with family. My older brother and his family came in town from Christmas day until that Friday. I spent Christmas Eve with my parents and then every day from Christmas up until Friday with my brother and his family. I was home on Friday, outside of meeting some friends for drinks. On Saturday, my little brother and his fiancee came into town. I spent Saturday night and all day Sunday with them. I had planned to spend part of the day yesterday with them but I woke up feeling odd. I wanted to hermit up. So I read all day yesterday. I read until past midnight, the kind of New Years that only I can get behind. I loved staying in while everyone else was out celebrating. It was wonderful.

Today I'm relaxing with a cup of tea. I spent part of the morning outside scraping ice from the driveway. I keep talking about buying a rowing machine to lose weight when all I really need is a shovel, an ice scraper, and some persistent ice. I worked for about 30 minutes with no luck. But I worked up quite the sweat. Now I'm catching up on my email, blogs, and planning out my 2013. I have plans I tell you. Big plans. Here's to a wonderful New Year! I hope you have a wonderful coming year filled with big plans and exciting things.

Learning Courage

Twelve years ago I would hardly leave the house after a snowfall. If snow fell, even flurries, when I was out and about I would rush home. I hated to leave the house with even a small amount of ice on roads. I had Jeff drive me to work for years on snowy days. I was scared. I lost sleep on nights snow was predicted. I worried endless over forecasts. I had the Weather Channel constantly up all winter. I was truly afraid of snow.

We had a blizzard this past week with 10 inches of snow and 40 to 50 mile an hour winds. I woke up Thursday morning, the height of the storm, and cleared off my car. I let it sit and warm. Then I drove to work. Slowly, ever so slowly, but I drove. I won't tell you that it was fun. Many of the streets hadn't been plowed at all. The ones that had were skating rinks of ice. When the wind it, the car skidded to the side. It was terrible. I was one of a dozen people who made it into work. It was announced at 7:30 that the state offices would be closed until noon, an unheard of thing (in 13 years we've only closed once).

The next day I also got up and drove to work. I've ingrained in myself that not going is not an option. The commute was far better than the day before but still slick. Still slow. As I sat at my desk I listened to people come in and talk about how terrible their drive in that day was. I listened and in the back of my head I thought "yeah but yesterday was worse". And I realized that I was now one of the brave ones in the office. I was one of the people who drove in terrible weather. It wasn't that I was not afraid, far from it. But I did it. And I started to think about the definition of courage. It's not being unafraid, as I always thought. It's about being afraid but doing what you're afraid of anyway.

Book Darts

I'm sure it will come as no surprise to anyone who reads this blog regularly but I am a pen and paper type of person. E-readers certainly have their place in society but it's not in my hands. I love the feel of a book well made, or an old book that has survived the decades. I love the weight of a book as it rests in my hands. I'm partial to fountain pens and well bound journals. I love the scritch-scratch of a nib across rough paper. And a couple years ago I discovered one of my favorite new book tools: the book dart.

 Stephen King's On Writing with about a dozen book darts to mark quotes.

Book darts are tiny strips of metal that fold over with a point on one end. Just that simple. They are used to mark a quote, an interesting point, or a unique fact in a book. I bought my first set about 10 years ago and quickly ran out. I bought more and ran out of those. I find a lot of interesting quotes and facts. So a couple years ago I decided that I would write down those points and reuse the darts. I bought a commonplace book (a book for keeping miscellaneous facts, quotes, bits of trivia...) and hand write all things I find into that journal so I can re-pull the darts. Each time I read a book I mark lines and quotes I like, then when the book is finished, I copy the quotes and pull the dart. I have the information I want but don't need to buy a lifetime supply of darts.

I own eight sets of darts now so I went out to find something to store them in. Something portable that I could carry with me constantly and have available when I read. I found this wonderful beat-up antique box in one of the antique stores in town. The Y&S company still makes licorice but they now make it under the trade name Twizzlers. I love the well-used look of the box. The same way I love the feeling of hand copying my quotes and facts into a beautiful wood covered journal. And to make all that seem more archaic and romantic, I use the fountain pens for a lot of my copying. I feel a bit like a Luddite but that's not the reason for it. I just love working with the books and the darts and the pens. There's something tactile about it. It makes me feel a bit like a scholar.

 A jumbled pile of book darts, ready for use. 

A Boy and a Bear In a Boat

 The American cover, the one I have

Only twice in my life have I finished a book, taken a big deep breath, and then reopened it at the first page to read again. The first book was Charlotte's Web and I was only nine or ten. I so badly wanted Charlotte to be alive again that I started the book over. And cried the second time. I almost restarted Kushiel's Dart when I finished it but regained my sanity as I stared at the 800 or 900 pages before me. On Sunday I read a book called A Boy and a Bear in a Boat. I put the book down, smiled, and instantly picked it back up to start rereading. The first reading had taken me 2 hours. The second one was shorter.

I'm not sure how to describe Dave Shelton's book. The plot, quite simply, is about a boy and a bear and the boat trip that they take together. The boy wants to cross to the other side and the bear is the captain of the boat. They set off on their journey but before long the boy realizes that they are lost. Hopelessly lost, unless you ask the Bear. He knows exactly where they are at. He even has a map (it looks like the image below). So they keep going. And from that, a number of adventures happen. They find sea monsters, The Last Sandwich, tide anomalies, and abandoned ships. It's a book with both a comic no one understands and a ukulele. It's an odd story (blissfully odd). But that's only part of it. It's a story about attitude, friendship, and the unwillingness to give up.

The UK cover, which is so perfect that I will need to find a copy, no matter what cost. 

The book Siddhartha by Herman Hesse always leaving me with an incredible feeling of peace whenever I finish it. I've read it many times over the course of my life. Always when I need to be mentally cleansed. It's a book that restarts my brain. A Boy and a Bear in a Boat might become my new cleansing book. The lessons that this book teaches are simple but I remember feeling completely changed after reading it. It's a bit story, a bit zen koan, and a bit magic. We never find out the boy's name or the bear's name. The boat is named but that's about the only character that has one. We learn what we need to know about the characters though. When I finished I loved Bear the same way I loved Charlotte all those years ago. He was a wonderful character. And the boy grew so much during the course of the book that I wanted to cheer for him. I closed this book (I won't tell you the ending) and I felt completely at peace. It's a magical book, even if I'm still trying to puzzle it out.

10 Things I Learned This Week

1. Puppy Chow (or Muddy Buddies) might be the easiest food in the world to make and one of the most addictive. I've been banned from bringing it back to the office.

2. Last minutes guests can often be the most fun. Thanks Josh for a fantastic weekend! I'm glad you took me up on my offer to visit.

3. No matter how many times I say "I have too many books" or "I have too much yarn", I don't seem to believe myself.

4. The mall sucks during holiday season. Sucks! It's pretty bad the rest of the time, but during the holiday season it makes me want to slit my wrists.

5. I am a series reader, no matter what I've said in the past.

6. A Song of Ice and Fire might be one of the best series I've ever read. Period. (There Jon, I said it.)

7. Apparently, given the right video game, I will gleefully club baby seals.

8. Even the thought of some meats makes me ill now. And although you won't believe me, I still haven't craved bacon, once.

9. Jim Carrey may have been the only bad part of Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events (the film). The tone was right, the kids were cast perfectly, the guardians were wonderful, and Timothy Spall was an inspired choice. I enjoyed the film. Carrey as Olaf...not so much.

10. Some books are like calm waters for the mind. They reinvigorate you, they calm you, and they make you wonder. Those are the ones I keep to reread every couple of years. I've found another one (more on that in my next post).

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch

So I have a confession to make. It's kind of a big one, so you should probably sit down. Or if you're already sitting and are at work, be prepared to hold in that gasp. Here goes: Hi, I'm Cat, and I'm a grinch. Christmas is not my favorite holiday. In fact it's one of my least favorite. I don't find this time of year magical. It's more stressful for me. I don't dream of a white Christmas. And honestly I can't stand Christmas music. There I said it. I'm a grinch.

I love Christmas lights but I think they should go up the day after Thanksgiving and stay up until the end of February. I think they are the perfect bit of light in what is a terrible, dark, cold time of the year. But I don't put up a tree (gasp), I dislike the crowds at any shopping area, and I'm certainly not decking any halls. I make it a point to not make anyone else miserable at this time of year but honestly I'm really glad when it's done. I only feel a great relief the day after New Years.

I like wrapping presents but I like that any time of the year. I will watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Chuck Jones's The Grinch, but other than that I instantly change the channel whenever a Christmas show comes on. And the one radio station in town that started playing Christmas music 24/7 the day after Halloween was instantly banished from my pre-set stations.

I'm not sure why I dislike this holiday so much. Perhaps it's the fact that it happens in winter. I'm not a fan if you didn't know. But I don't honestly mind a good snow day, when I don't have to go anywhere. Or perhaps it's because Christmas is slowly eating away at Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday of the year. I hate that businesses are now opening on my favorite day. I liked at least one day of rest from our consumerism. Or perhaps my issue with Christmas is just that it has become unavoidable. I can't have a conversation lately without someone talking about their decorations, their most recent present buying trip, or their Christmas tree.

I feel a bit like a Scrooge but I just can't keep silent anymore. I have twenty more days of hearing nothing but Christmas. And I'll listen, and smile at your excitement. I like passion in any form. But don't look at me askance when I tell you that I don't have a tree up. That I haven't finished my shopping, or really started, and that I don't have my Pandora channel set to carols. I'll raise my glass of hot chocolate after the new year. Until then, I'll be the grinch in the corner, not liking Christmas a lot.

Quotes

My little sister got me started on a collection a couple of years ago. She mentioned that she keeps a book with quotes that she likes. I looked through her quote journal and instantly decided that I needed to do the same. So I hunt for bits of wisdom to add to my collection. I've gathered quite a few and they all hold a special place in my heart. I have a beautiful wood-covered journal that my mother bought me that I knew was too lovely to hold my own words. So I started using it as a "commonplace book". It's a journal for keeping all the interesting fact, quotes, and ideas that I have. I mostly use it for quotes I like. I thought I'd share a couple of them with you. I'll do this periodically. I can't be alone in my love of quotes.

"Be careful what you water your dreams with. Water them with worry and fear, and you will produce weeds that choke the life from your dreams. Water them with optimism and solutions, and you will cultivate success. Always be on the lookout for ways to turn a problem into an opportunity for success. Always be on the lookout for ways to nurture your dreams."   ~Lao Tzu

"The finiteness of a lifetime adds intensity to our search for truth, for beauty, for happiness, for love, for ourselves. I've begun to understand that death lends meaning to life, that it adds weight to the choices I make about how I want to live and who I want to be."    ~Jill Fredston

"I care not how humble your bookshelf may be, nor how lonely the room which it adorns. Close the door of that room behind you, shut off with it all the care of the outer world, plunge back into the soothing company of the great dead, and then you are through the magic portal into that fair land whither worry or vexation can follow you no more."     ~Arthur Conan Doyle

"The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity."    ~Dorothy Parker

"A master in the art of living draws no sharp distinctions between his work and his play, his labor and his leisure, his mind and his body, his education and his recreation. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence through whatever he is doing and leaves others to determine whether he is working or playing. To himself he always seems to be doing both. It's enough for him that he does it well."     ~L.P. Jacks

Games of Thrones

Since I've gotten home from St. Louis, I've done nothing in the evenings except read. I come home, say hi to Jeff, and plop myself down on the couch to read. At 11 or so I'll move upstairs and then read until I either fall asleep or read until I think I'm going to have problems waking up the next day. To say that I've been a little focused is a bit of an understatement.

I've been told by at least half a dozen people that I need to read at least the first book of the Song of Ice and Fire series, A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin. Jeff had received the book as a gift last Christmas and it's been sitting in my stack. So last week I picked it up. And I was immediately sucked in. The characters are all so unique. Throughout the book I would fall in love with different characters. Eddard, Tyrion, Arya, Catelyn, and Jon Snow all have been favorite characters at one point or another. They are each so well described and their individual stories so fascinating. The book follows the Starks of Winterfell, the lord, his lady, and their five children, as they set out into a very well described fantasy world. Each has their own role to play in just this book and I know that those roles will be every futher expanded as I read the rest of the series.

Martin tells a story that's both raw and truthful, which is a tough thing to say for a fantasy series. The word he creates falls its own set of rules beautifully. Magic exists in small doses but it has it's place. Dragons and other creatures have or do live in the world. But each part of the book rings true. Martin creates a history for the world, a mythology for the world, religions, and enough ruling classes that sometimes they are a tad tough to keep straight. He does provide an overview of the houses in the back, but you're so focused on the Starks that I didn't find I had to consult it often. The book has political intrigue (a lot of political intrigue), a fascinating family story, myth and legend, war, and a bit of sex. It's everything I enjoy in a good book and I can't wait to continue on and find out what happens next.

Yep, I'm a series reader again. I broke my rule with the His Dark Materials trilogy, and shattered it with the A Series of Unfortunate Events series. I already the next book of the Song of Ice and Fire series and after a small break I'll dive back into that one. But it won't be tonight. I should probably catch up on the housework I've been ignoring since I started the first.

Thanksgiving Trip

Jeff and I spent the holiday in St. Louis visiting family. We drove down on Thursday and made it just in time for dinner. We left Sunday morning. In between we spent tons of time with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law and their adorable little guy. Here they are below. This is Jeff's younger brother's family. They hosted us this trip and did so wonderfully.

We did some shopping on Friday. Not much (I'm not a Black Friday fan) but trips to JoAnn's and Barnes and Noble made me happy. My sister-in-law wanted to make a couple fleece tie blankets as gifts. We managed to get the fabric and complete both blankets in one weekend. Here's my wonderful sister-in-law playing around in JoAnns.

Friday night we went to Jeff's older brother's house for dinner and some wonderful wine. My sister-in-law has introduced me to a number of great wines over the years and this night was no exception. I think between us, she and I must have drank a bottle and a half each. Great conversation, great food. A fun night.

Saturday we went to the zoo with my little brother and his fiancee. It was a bit cold out so the zoo was really quiet. But the animals were active and we made good use of the heated indoor houses. The bird house was Jeff's favorite, it was so quiet you could hear even the quietest birds call. We were the only ones in there for most of our time. The lions were playful and fun to watch. It was a great trip.

The weather was perfect the entire trip and it was great to see family. We don't get down to St. Louis near enough so it was nice to have a longer visit to catch up. We'll hopefully get back down in the spring. But it was a wonderful trip.