Judge-y Judgerson

Today I signed up for and made a profile at Goodreads!  Goodreads is a great website that provides readers' reviews of all the books they're reading--millions of readers reading millions of books and reviewing with brutal, intense honesty.  I use this website all the time, but actually, a student of mine inspired me to actually create a profile and contribute reviews.  Here's how it happened . . . .

A former student, one Alex Pass, follows me on Twitter, and last summer, he asked for a book recommendation--I was flabbergasted!  Didn't even recognize him as an avid reader in school--he had lots of other concerns on his plate--but he absolutely LOVED The Great Gatsby.  So, when he asked, I recommended Unbroken, a fave of mine, and he ate it up!  Loved every minute of it, and mourned with me when Louie Zamperini died last summer.  He later demanded another recommendation, and I gave him The Things They Carried--another hit!  He is now an official reader.  He still demands more book titles, and the latest (The Girl on the Train) was another winner, and he told me on Twitter last night that he has created a profile on Goodreads.

I cannot even tell you how proud that makes me.  This boy had a hot temper, a passion for all things America, a healthy tolerance for fun of all sorts, and he is a bona fide bookworm on top of it all.  His decision to join Goodreads was based on his need for new recommendations--if he records all the books he's read and then rates them, this website will create a recommendation list for him.  Hmmm.

I read.  I have thoughts.  Maybe I'll do the same.  Maybe Alex will be my first friend on Goodreads!  So I did it!  I made an official profile and today, I wrote my first review.  Sadly, not a good one.  Indeed, my first official review was a rating of one star for our latest book club book, which I am actively disliking.  The dialogue is terrible; sounds like dialogue written by either a seventh grader or maybe a ninety-year-old Victorian miss--both of which would be unsuited for writing dialogue in a contemporary summer romance novel.  Ugh.  The word "dastardly" is actually a part of one character's conversation.  So is "austere," though, and the author uses that one wrong.  She uses it to describe a mansion that is then said to have beautiful grounds, complete with gardens, trees, and balconies.  That's not "austere," dear heart.  Fortunately, I read the author's bio, and she's giving up the romance game to write young adult fiction with her daughter, so we're safe from further books like this one.  --My review, mind you, on Goodreads is a bit kinder than this--you all are my friends and can handle the truth.  I didn't want to hurt Mrs. Higman's feelings, and I imagine they're quite tender.

So another newness!  And one that I feel will serve me well, as my Kindle and I are enjoying our own summer romance, never leaving each other's sides for very long.  And I trust it will never be dastardly towards me.

Ohmmmmmm . . .

Today, I took a yoga class!  I never did before--always wanted to, even purchased a mat, somewhere along the way--but I will definitely be taking this class on a regular basis.

When I broke up with my old gym and joined Gold's, one of the benefits I gained in exchange for a higher membership fee is that I can take whatever classes the trainers offer, and there's a big bulletin board full of classes.  Things like "BodyPump" and "BodyCombat" are on that board, and I have absolutely no desire to put my body through combat.  Don't put me down for that class.  Nope.  But "BodyFlow" is also on that board, and I've walked by that session on my way to the cardio machines, seeing the lean, graceful movements of the students and hearing the plinky, plunky music, and it looked like a lovely way to work out.  Less rolling sweat, more zen.

So today, I went!  I was the first to walk in, carrying my own mat that I'd unearthed during the Great Purge/Spring Cleaning of the yellow house, and the teacher was in there, picking out music and looking intently at a little notebook.

"Welcome!" she said.

"Thanks!"  I said, and then:  "I've-never-done-yoga-before-so-I'm-a-little-nervous."  She smiled and said that it would be fine, that I could adapt movements as I needed to.  She promised to let me know how to adapt and to explain all the poses.  Whew.  She's nice, and seems suited to yoga teaching.  Calm and earthy.

Three other women came in and set up mats--there were a pile of them in the corner and they helped themselves.  Can I just say, "EWWW!"  Those mats were organized into purple pile, and no one, like, sprayed them with Lysol or wiped them down before LYING FULL LENGTH with BARE FEET AND LEGS.  No, thank you.  And then we all took off our shoes--pretty happy my coral shellac is still in good shape--and settled in for the lesson.

We had to stretch and flex and lean this way and that, all the while breathing calmly and with awareness (wondering if somewhere in history someone suffocated during yoga; breathing correctly was a major focus).  Also, balance is key.  She was able to pirouette about and balance all her weight on her big toe whilst breathing properly and flexing her core and keeping her hips open.  Holy cow.  She told us she'd be "mirroring" our movements, too, so she would call out that we were to put our left legs forward as she moved her own right leg forward, so that was impressive.  I'd have been all confused.  She moved us through the whole body--arms, then legs, then abs, then back, etc.--as we moved and flexed, and by the end, I was sweaty and felt fully worked out.  And maybe taller?  I feel all stretched out.  :-)

At the very end, though, she turned off the fans and lights and instructed us in the meditation part of the class.  We laid on our backs, feet flat on the ground, arms stretched out to the sides, and focused on our breathing.  "Breeeeaaaaathhhhe iiiiiinnnnn through your nooooooose . . . breeeeeaaaaaaathhhhe ooooouuuut through your moooouuuuthhh . . . ."  And then she got all yogi on us.  "Clear your mind and settle into your body.  Feel the weight of your bones.  Sink into your mats and just feel your body."  Okay.  Clearing my mind.  Wonder if I should do some elliptical after this just to get a heart-rate raise.  Wonder if my transcripts arrived in the mail.  I really need to run to Wal-Mart to get some of those bags that you can suck the air out of to store the old duvet.  Did I put the breakfast dishes in the sink before I left?  NO.  CLEAR the mind.  Okay.  Focused on my breathing now.  Iiiiinnnn and oooouuuut . . . .  I am definitely out of stamps.  Need to finish book club book, even though it's annoying.  This author has NO CONCEPT of good dialogue.  And there's been a vocabulary mistake.

Oy.  I think clearing my mind is going to take some practice.  But the rest I really enjoyed!  My muscles can feel the workout already, and it's always fun to change up the routine a little.  I'll be going back next Tuesday!  Ohhhmmmmmm . . . .

Land o' Lincoln!

I have lived in Illinois for forty years and have never visited the Lincoln Presidential Museum and Library!  An awesome opportunity to have a First for my list!!  I really do love to read and learn about history; if there's a book that fictionalizes a true historical event or period, I want it.  Teaching American lit requires a pretty extensive understanding of American history, and I love to feather out my notes and discussions with the kids with bits and pieces of new info I glean from here and there.  So, when Mom suggested that we all head to Springfield on a road trip (another fave thing to do!), I was all in!

By "we," I mean the Hickman posse--Dad, Mom, and me--we got our tickets online, punched the address into Sally (the navigation lady who lives in the car screen), loaded up magazines and various chargers for the road, and we were off!

Here I am with a giant sculpture of our sixteenth president!  He looks pretty pumped to see me.

Behind me is the Union Station--in there, you will find complete sets brought from Steven Spielberg's movie, Lincoln, that are on permanent loan from DreamWorks.  The museum info tells visitors that Spielberg has never kept and loaned out movie sets, but that these artifacts were special to him and wanted them preserved.  How considerate--take a look at these costumes and furnishings:

Mary Todd Lincoln's dressing table and dress!  In real life, Mary Todd Lincoln was 46 when her husband was assassinated, while Sally Field  was 65 at the time of filming--apparently 65 is the new 46.

Here, you see Steven Spielberg's recreation of Lincoln's office, and Daniel Day Lewis' costume as Mr. Lincoln.

So on to the museum!  After a quick lunch, we started touring the museum, which is arranged in a circular format, with a log cabin entry that leads to the early years and a White House that leads to the presidential years, and two theatres that show films.  The log cabin is constructed of the same wood indigenous to Lincoln's youthful home in Indiana (after moving there from Kentucky), cut and put together with the same tools available to the Lincoln family in those years!  Pics from here are blurry--forgot how to set the camera for SUPER-dark settings:

Here we see young Abraham studying by the fire--legend has it that he taught himself to read by firelight as the family slept.

A scene of Lincoln in the years he worked with a merchant, carrying goods on the rivers of Illinois.

This one amuses me; apparently, there was a time when Lincoln was completely captivated by Mary Todd, and he was said to have simply gazed (NOT glared) at her as she spoke.  Methinks the decorators here took this a little to literally....

The next two pics are of Mary Todd Lincoln's wardrobe, which was highly ornate and just fascinating--the detail and the immense amount of yardage of fabric is impressive.  How did she even stand up in these dresses?  They're velvets and silks and taffetas and worn over hoops--PRE-air-conditioning.  Oy.

These dresses are stationed behind little placards that reveal snarky commentary about Mary Todd Lincoln's inability to get along with any other women.  The comments come across as really insecure... but witty....  :-) 

These pics are chosen because I like the museum's ingenuity in displaying history--the cartoons are framed at strange angles and in eerie blue light.  I imagine that waking up to hateful commentary in the papers, written by people who don't know me but who hate me, would be disorienting; the odd angles of the pictures and the voice-over reading the cartoons in angry voices were the perfect medium to get these ideas across to visitors.  In the third pic, Lincoln is considering the Emancipation Proclamation--some called it "not enough" to do any good, while others were outraged at the freeing of the slaves--referenced in the second pic.  The shadows behind him mimic the voices Lincoln hears as he decides what to do.  It's very much like performace art.

While there are artistic displays everywhere, there are also studies in realism--cast by looking at paintings and daguerreotypes, and precise details attended to, down to the handwriting on the documents and the maps on the walls.

This was fun, too--the War Gallery pictures are in an interactive display; there are computers set up underneath with touchscreens.  When a picture takes your fancy, you touch the screen in its location and the story pops up.

Discovered this handsome fella is Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.  Son of the poet!

Again, the realism is just incredible.  I have to wonder if the theatre and coffin displays are to scale--they're huge and beyond ornate.

After the museum parts, we went to the theatres--one of them was a movie, but the SEATS were interactive.  When there was thunder, or cannon fire, or gun shots, the seats jolted from underneath and the entire crowd jumped.  Oof.  I was expecting this, and still was startled when my seat thundered.  The other theatre was holographic--a soldier, and I'm still not sure if he was real or not??--came out to explain the importance of the historians' work at the library.  They still find and archive documents and artifacts that arrive from people's estates even now, over a hundred years after Lincoln's death.  Did you know that there are missing "Mary Letters"??  Her son had his mother's correspondence burned before he died; why??  What was in them??  Dying to know.  The show was anything but dry, as one expects an archival library could be, and brought history to life with modern technology.  Kinda wishing I had that technology as I explain about the Puritans....

So our day was really great!  My family was together, we enjoyed the displays and our own company, and got to enjoy a road trip!  Am forever grateful for the familial cards I was dealt.  A road trip of three or so hours would be a long time with lame people who don't appreciate the delights of the 40 List....  Enjoy some parting shots!  One more of Lincoln, sculpted by the main actor in the movie, and some Hickmans!

Love and Public Speaking

My friend Jen got MARRIED!!!  You've met her--she's my zip-lining, horseback riding adventures partner!  And she got MARRIED!!!  Her hubby, Kris, is the precious fella in the pics with her on the horseback-riding adventure, and now her name is Mrs. Jennifer Michelle Tuebel (pronounced Tie-bull).  Her wedding was this past Saturday, and guess what?  I participated in her wedding!  For the first time ever, I had a speaking role in a wedding; I've been bridesmaid and maid of honor before, but those roles do not require any speaking.  In front of people.  A crowd, even, of people.  Gulp.  Here's how it happened . . . .

Two years ago, around Valentine's Day, my student teacher Emilie Turner nee Russell and I were talking about love poetry, and I shared with her my favorite poem of all time.  It is "[i carry your heart with me (i carry it in)]," and it is by e.e. cummings, the best love poetry writer of all time.  Seriously.  This man knew how to write about love.  So I pulled the poem up on the Promethean Board to show Emilie, and Jen was visiting in my room when I said out loud, "This poem should be read at every wedding ever."

And then, Jen got engaged.  And she remembered about this poem.  And she asked ME to read it!!  Gah!

Oof.  Listen, I try very hard never to go to weddings.  I'm pretty sure my aversion to weddings began in the early nineties, when, for no good reason, weddings began at, like, two or four in the afternoon, when the ceremony happened, and then there were dinners at about five, and then we were all expected to stay and celebrate until close to midnight.  Ugh.  I love my friends, and I have nothing but sincere wishes for happy lives spent together, but I don't want to party for ANYONE for twelve hours.  That's about ten hours too many.  Even if there's cake.

But this is Jen, and she's very dear to me, and I was completely honored and humbled, actually, that she asked me to be a part of her Big Day, and so I said that I would indeed read my fave poem at her wedding.  Even if that meant that I'd be in front of a crowd of guests who could hear me and see me.  Even after years and years of teaching, coaching, and Sunday School lessoning, I still have a pretty strong fear of public speaking, especially when there's a chance I could stumble and stutter and RUIN EVERYTHING.  But a promise is a promise, and I showed up in a dress that coordinated with Jen's wedding colors and read this poem:

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Now.  A word about this poem.  It must be read aloud to be appreciated, and it is important to know that e.e. cummings was completely in love when he wrote it, so there really is a woman who is his darling and dear and sweet, which I am convinced makes the poem that much more meaningful.  And knowing how much Jen and Kris love each other, I was happy to contribute these immortal words to the loving atmosphere of the day.  Behold!  I have pics--be sure to "awwwww" over how sweet Jen and Kris are reacting. . . .

Are they not THE MOST PRECIOUS??  All photo creds go to my bestie, Michele, who had orders to take "discreet pics to use on my blog!"  And I did not stumble even once.  Whew.  Take a look--I'm in the program, too!

So, a bloggy toast to my dear friend Jen, who is starting her new life with her new hubby with all the well-wishes and blessings I can think of!  Congrats, dear heart, and best of luck in Nashville!!

Day of Shameless Pampering with La Mia Mamma

For anyone who has met me, it is no surprise that I enjoy a lovely day of indulgence, and make hair and nail appointments any time I can think of an excuse to do so.  How nice, then, that the 40 Blog offered me just such a chance!

Today, I had my hair cut and, well, we'll call it "brightened," and then after that, my mother and I went to get pedis and manis!  For me, this is not a newness, but because Mom agreed to go with me--not kicking OR screaming, but voluntarily--it is definitely a newness!  My mother has told me since I was little that she's pretty sure my tendencies come directly from my grandmother--my habits skipped a generation, she says.  My grandmother was quite a paradox; she's a woman who described herself as being an "old soul," and she was a child of the Depression, saving slivers of soaps to melt down and make new bars, and keeping a drawer of tin foil, but she also was a girly-girl.  Her favorite gift I ever brought her--and I brought her some lovely things from foreign countries!--was a tube of Chanel Red lipstick--her signature shade.  She loved jewelry, and some of my best pieces are inherited from her.

My mother, on the other hand, would much rather play a round of golf or go fishing or shoot guns with my dad than accompany me to the salon for a day of pedis and manis.  I love this about her, but I was very excited that she volunteered to go with me!  There is no better day than a day at a salon, having one's hair colored and combed and washed and set, or chatting (certainly not gossiping) while one's toes and fingers are being attended to.  Plus!  When you're all done, you get to take your new hair and nails out and about!  I've never considered a day at the salon a wasted day.  Even when I have to go get my shellac removed a couple weeks later.

But Mom, the most pragmatic woman I know, has always balked at having polish put on her nails because, and I am not making this up, she says it makes her "feel hot--and maybe suffocated."  I roll my eyes when she says this, not having ANY idea how having shiny, colorful nails could in ANY WAY be something other than wonderful, but to each her own, right?  Her willingness to go get pedis now actually stems from her Mother's Day gift--golfing sandals--and feeling that I should strike while the iron was hot, I made the appointments and off we went!  First to my regular salon, Euphoria, for pedis!  Regardez!

The best part!!  Warm, sudsy water and tenderly reshaping of nail beds.

New colors!!  Pinky/coral-y for me, lavender (my fave) for Mom!  

Mission accomplished!  Now, on to Mom's salon for fingers; I'd tried to get both scheduled at my regular place, but Euphoria is ALWAYS booked.  I've made my appointments for the next two months to make sure I can get in when I need in (not even kidding).  The ladies at my mother's place were SO CHATTY--exactly my kind of appointment--hearing all the latest gossip and girl talk and then leaving with pretty nails!  Look!

Ahhhh... warm, soapy bowl of bliss.

Lavender to match the toes!  And so far, she hasn't suffocated.  

Finished product!  Coral for me, lavender for Mom, and both of us tickled pink!

Loved this day!  I would have loved it anyway, being partial to days of pampering, but it was made that much more special to have my mom along with me--and she was a trooper!  No complaining or eye-rolling, which tells me she enjoyed herself, too.  Hm.  Maybe I'll just go ahead and book standing appointments for her, too . . . .

Tea Time!

My book club has amazingly talented ladies know a thing or two about a thing or two.  They've all been through such incredible journeys--one of them has nine children, one of them has a degree in pharmacy but is also a former B&B owner and incredible cook, one of them is an artist who paints and writes, one of them was our post mistress for years and years, one of them taught in and served on the board of our school for literally most of her life, one of them just celebrated her fiftieth wedding anniversary, and on and on.  Incredible women, superwomen, in fact.  And they all love to read and, even better, they are highly susceptible to suggestions thrown out at book club.

After reading one of our selections, we had a conversation about war brides and enjoying the pictures in the book:  "They're so glamorous--I feel like all women were glamorous in the forties," "NO, they're just young; everybody's pretty when they're young,"  "Well, that's probably true,"  "Hey--we should bring OUR favorite pictures to the next meeting,"  "You mean pictures of ourselves?  From when we were young?" "Yeah, but your favorite one--one when you felt glamorous,"  "Hm.  Okay.  Everybody has a favorite picture, right?"  Right.  So there was that idea conception.

And then, likely because our book was set in England, somebody said something about tea.  As in, high tea.  I don't remember who, or why, but Paula, our pharmacist/chef/former hostess of a bed and breakfast took up the challenge with a gleam in her eye.  She's a great planner--before we left that meeting, I'm sure, she had all the menu and decor all planned out in her mind's eye.  And thus, an event was born.  High Tea complete with Gloves and Glamorous Photos were the assignment for our next meeting, and behold the results . . . .

A gorgeous selection of tea accessories, additions, and sweeteners.

If you cannot find your favorite tea flavor here, you are simply too picky.  There's something for everyone!

Some of Paula's vintage tea cups and saucers.

We helped make these!  Paula assigned everyone a dish--my dish was to make name tags for everyone else's dishes . . . .   Hm.

Did you ever consider using rock candy to sweeten your tea?  Clever, my book club ladies are.

A raspberry aspic?  I think?  Anyway, it was as delicious as you'd think it is from this picture.

This had carrots in it and was a lovely blend of savory and sweet.  Yum.

A trifle, some pecan pies, and a lovely stained glass window.  Wanted to take all three home with me.

Well, this was chocolate heaven on a plate.

A lovely and healthy salad.  Because we're all very health-conscious at our tea.

Paula's tablescape had just precious teacups and teapots--see the vintage lady underneath this picture?

We had such a delightful evening--as we always do.  Please know that we enjoyed our gourmet dishes and book club discussion whilst wearing gloves and passing around our favorite pictures.  :-)  Such a fun evening.  These women are among the strongest and most interesting I've known, and I just can't wait for book club nights--if you're interested in joining this fantabulous group, see the Elkville Christian Church website at www.elkvillechristian.com, read the book, and come on in to our meeting!  There are always laughs, tea, hilarity, snacks, and sometimes some sidetracking, but I'm always excited to get there, and you won't be sorry you joined us!