According to this article,, found by KA Carter, the BBC list that we have been planning to do our Reading Marathon 2011 on is a sham. So, I went to the BBC website and found the original list. Thankfully, it is not much different than the phony one. So I propose that we continue reading the Hobbit, which is on this list as well, and then start with Lord of the Rings (which will follow The Hobbit nicely and well, thankfully we have all suffered, I mean read, through Pride and Prejudice. All those in favor say "Aye."
The BBC's Big Read List
1. The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman
4. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling
6. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
7. Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne
8. Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell
9. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, CS Lewis
10. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë
11. Catch-22, Joseph Heller
12. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
13. Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks
14. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
15. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
16. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
17. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
18. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
19. Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
20. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
21. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
22. Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling
23. Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling
24. Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling
25. The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
26. Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy
27. Middlemarch, George Eliot
28. A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving
29. The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck
30. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
31. The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson
32. One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez
33. The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett
34. David Copperfield, Charles Dickens
35. Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
36. Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson
37. A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute
38. Persuasion, Jane Austen
39. Dune, Frank Herbert
40. Emma, Jane Austen
41. Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery
42. Watership Down, Richard Adams
43. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald
44. The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
45. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
46. Animal Farm, George Orwell
47. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
48. Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy
49. Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian
50. The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher
51. The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
52. Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck
53. The Stand, Stephen King
54. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
55. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
56. The BFG, Roald Dahl
57. Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome
58. Black Beauty, Anna Sewell
59. Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
60. Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
61. Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman
62. Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden
63. A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
64. The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough
65. Mort, Terry Pratchett
66. The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton
67. The Magus, John Fowles
68. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
69. Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett
70. Lord Of The Flies, William Golding
71. Perfume, Patrick Süskind
72. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell
73. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
74. Matilda, Roald Dahl
75. Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding
76. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
77. The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins
78. Ulysses, James Joyce
79. Bleak House, Charles Dickens
80. Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson
81. The Twits, Roald Dahl
82. I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith
83. Holes, Louis Sachar
84. Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake
85. The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
86. Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson
87. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
88. Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons
89. Magician, Raymond E Feist
90. On The Road, Jack Kerouac
91. The Godfather, Mario Puzo
92. The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel
93. The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett
94. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
95. Katherine, Anya Seton
96. Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer
97. Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez
98. Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson
99. The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot
100. Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie
I found this list at the website for World Book Day, which is celebrated in the UK. They compiled this list from people's votes on their website. Isn't it our list?
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8= Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
8= His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte's Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Alborn
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
Which one do you want to do?
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Done (spoiler alert)
They got married...shocking.
I will admit, it has some good one liners:
Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.
Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.
It is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.
A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment.
Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing after all.
What are men to rocks and mountains?
And my personal favorites:
Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.
I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.
I also like the relationship between Mr. Bennett and Elizabeth. And I like that I have read the book now. But I am still not fond of this type of writing about nothing really of significance.
I will admit, it has some good one liners:
Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.
Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.
It is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.
A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment.
Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing after all.
What are men to rocks and mountains?
And my personal favorites:
Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.
I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.
I also like the relationship between Mr. Bennett and Elizabeth. And I like that I have read the book now. But I am still not fond of this type of writing about nothing really of significance.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
In other words...WHO CARES? Aaaggghhh!
With much disdain and little amiability I must express that the drudgery I feel whilst trudging through the coarse pages of such a lengthy, albeit vocabulary enriching parcel of perplexing pages, and droll eighteenth century drawing-room intriques, more modernly known as lack luster soap operas, can only leave me with the following conclusion...the meticulous prudery with which Jane Austen writes does capture with dripping satire the ridiculousness of the period in which she pens. However, Austen's voraciousness to be witty among what are admittingly highly proletarian surroundings filled with the most absurd propriety and frustratingly controlled etiquettes is not enough to offset the pure silliness of the subjects on which she attempts to create something from absolute nothingness.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Buying BBC Books
Right now...as I type...Books A Million has our book list (well, a lot of it) for 2.97 a book. Cool, huh? If anyone needs any ideas for Christmas presents for me...well, there you go.
BTW, I may end up being the only female in the entire world who is not enamored with Pride and Predjudice. I find it girly and roll my eyes a lot as I read. I am hoping it gets better. Jane reminds me of the sickly little girl in Little Women who was sugary sweet, and Elizabeth may be smart but she has no spine (although Barbara says she has as much spine as the culture of the day allows). I absolutely can not STAND Darcy, and as of now the only saving grace is Mr. Bennett, who is absolutely hilarious, and I picture him smoking a pipe, rolling his eyes from behind his book, and grumbling smart ass comments under his breath regarding his life full of estrogen and high-pitched squeals.
Bless his heart.
BTW, I may end up being the only female in the entire world who is not enamored with Pride and Predjudice. I find it girly and roll my eyes a lot as I read. I am hoping it gets better. Jane reminds me of the sickly little girl in Little Women who was sugary sweet, and Elizabeth may be smart but she has no spine (although Barbara says she has as much spine as the culture of the day allows). I absolutely can not STAND Darcy, and as of now the only saving grace is Mr. Bennett, who is absolutely hilarious, and I picture him smoking a pipe, rolling his eyes from behind his book, and grumbling smart ass comments under his breath regarding his life full of estrogen and high-pitched squeals.
Bless his heart.
Monday, November 29, 2010
I have read 21 out of 100
I get a 21. That would be an F! Time to catch up!
On your mark...Get Set...Read!
Jenny and Chris can run a marathon. Jennifer can deliver a baby. KA can paint the frickin Sistine Chapel and JR is the funniest man alive. Bryan, Eric, Tiffany (who can also fo real build a bike...like from nothing)can all do tantrums and other cool water sports. Emily is Mary Poppins, aka the baby whisperer. Barbara is brilliant. Andy is like the female McGyver, and she and Scotty are the smartest people I know. Ron is incredibly resilient and knows EVERYONE (even in Colorado), and Sydney: I mean come on! I like her! Who saw that coming??? enough said! Anywho, if I have forgotten you, I am positive you can do something cool too! Point is...I want to do something cool, so I am working with my talents and guess what?
I can READ!
That sounded cooler in my head.
None of you can say that you have read all of the BBC's top 100 books. I CAN do this! I have been training all my life :-).
On your mark...Get Set...Read!
Jenny and Chris can run a marathon. Jennifer can deliver a baby. KA can paint the frickin Sistine Chapel and JR is the funniest man alive. Bryan, Eric, Tiffany (who can also fo real build a bike...like from nothing)can all do tantrums and other cool water sports. Emily is Mary Poppins, aka the baby whisperer. Barbara is brilliant. Andy is like the female McGyver, and she and Scotty are the smartest people I know. Ron is incredibly resilient and knows EVERYONE (even in Colorado), and Sydney: I mean come on! I like her! Who saw that coming??? enough said! Anywho, if I have forgotten you, I am positive you can do something cool too! Point is...I want to do something cool, so I am working with my talents and guess what?
I can READ!
That sounded cooler in my head.
None of you can say that you have read all of the BBC's top 100 books. I CAN do this! I have been training all my life :-).
Talk the talk; walk the walk
A new adventure...much better idea than cooking through Paula Dean. This challenge will not have me gaining 100 pounds and having a heart attack. A friend tagged me with this note, and I loved this list. I am not as well read as I should be (blasphemous for an English teacher) and I am tired of being ashamed of what I haven't read. Soooo, you know what is coming...I am starting with Pride and Prejudice. WHO IS WITH ME??? Again, we can make t-shirts if you want.
Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here. Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so I can see your responses!
Rules:
I have read the ones in Bold; therefore, I will not read those.
The ones in italics I am familiar with, but I wouldn't say that I really grasped them when I "covered" them in school, so it is my discretion whether I shall force myself to try them again.
I plan to have the list read by this time next year. (way unrealistic, I know, and just like the goals on our improvement plan at school, this goal will need to be adjusted annually, I am sure)
I will blog about each book during and/or upon finishing said book.
And away we go...
Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here. Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so I can see your responses!
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien (crapballs!)
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
(continuously)
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens (Thank God!)
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare (wow, I am italicizing because I took a Shakespeare course and read darn near all of it, but I don't even know if this is possible, and at any rate, this would be a perfect LATER challenge)
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien :-(
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House- Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited- Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens (Nooooooooo!)
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma -Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini (YES!)
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden (SEXY!)
40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens (Remember it well, sheesh I can't stand Dickens)
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here. Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so I can see your responses!
Rules:
I have read the ones in Bold; therefore, I will not read those.
The ones in italics I am familiar with, but I wouldn't say that I really grasped them when I "covered" them in school, so it is my discretion whether I shall force myself to try them again.
I plan to have the list read by this time next year. (way unrealistic, I know, and just like the goals on our improvement plan at school, this goal will need to be adjusted annually, I am sure)
I will blog about each book during and/or upon finishing said book.
And away we go...
Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here. Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so I can see your responses!
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien (crapballs!)
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
(continuously)
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens (Thank God!)
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare (wow, I am italicizing because I took a Shakespeare course and read darn near all of it, but I don't even know if this is possible, and at any rate, this would be a perfect LATER challenge)
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien :-(
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House- Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited- Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens (Nooooooooo!)
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma -Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini (YES!)
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden (SEXY!)
40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens (Remember it well, sheesh I can't stand Dickens)
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Obsessed
Please, people, do yourself a favor and get these books. Get them. Read them. Trust me. They are beyond amazing*.
*Better than Twilight
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
6:23 in the Morning
"Good Morning, Mama, how are you today?!"
My 2 year old bounds, climbs, yanks himself onto my bed examining my face
I struggle to open one eye and suddenly we are nose to nose,
his bright eyes not only alert, but shining
As if I should already be impatiently awaiting,
at 6:23 A.M.,
The Grand Adventure that will be this day
"Too early, Ty, go back to sleep, o.k.?"
He deflates like a balloon, wilting back into the covers
and reaches to search for my hair with one hand,
tightly winding it around his chubby little fist
As if my hair is his safety latch,
a bungee cord,
He uses this harness to pull my hair to his face
He pops his thumb in his mouth, forefinger over the bridge of his nose,
face buried into my mane, and inhales deeply
The sweet smell of slobber mixed with suave.
He snuggles as close as possible
As if close can never be close enough,
Wallerin' my mama used to call it,
because there is always something that is closer than close
Then and only then, after his most important, personal ritual
Ty slips back to sleep,
Body peaceful and limp, hand sliding from my hair,
Thumb falling out of his mouth onto the pillow
As if there is no greater sleeping pill
than finding the spot that is closer than close,
wallerin' on mama, drifting away.
My 2 year old bounds, climbs, yanks himself onto my bed examining my face
I struggle to open one eye and suddenly we are nose to nose,
his bright eyes not only alert, but shining
As if I should already be impatiently awaiting,
at 6:23 A.M.,
The Grand Adventure that will be this day
"Too early, Ty, go back to sleep, o.k.?"
He deflates like a balloon, wilting back into the covers
and reaches to search for my hair with one hand,
tightly winding it around his chubby little fist
As if my hair is his safety latch,
a bungee cord,
He uses this harness to pull my hair to his face
He pops his thumb in his mouth, forefinger over the bridge of his nose,
face buried into my mane, and inhales deeply
The sweet smell of slobber mixed with suave.
He snuggles as close as possible
As if close can never be close enough,
Wallerin' my mama used to call it,
because there is always something that is closer than close
Then and only then, after his most important, personal ritual
Ty slips back to sleep,
Body peaceful and limp, hand sliding from my hair,
Thumb falling out of his mouth onto the pillow
As if there is no greater sleeping pill
than finding the spot that is closer than close,
wallerin' on mama, drifting away.
An Ode to Fractions
Half it and Half it and Half it again
1/3, 1/4, 1/75th of the 10.
My fraction passion began as an innocent chile'
An engaging lesson taught with a cherry pie
Deviously fractions slunk into my life
Under the pretense of fun and vieling true strife
Cups of sugar, tablespoons, Bing cherries, flaky crust
How fun you are fractions, first impression was to trust
That math could be awesome, engaging, and true
Oh, what wicked webs, Fractions are lying to you
They are not just for cooking, measuring, and such
Later they cause headaches when divided and mutiplied much
You see fractions grab you as a child and place you under their spell
You've no idea how slippery the slope is to torture, but they know it well
Alas, after 1st grade Math had opened this portal, a dasturdly door,
Blindly I was tricked to stroll through and loathe evermore.
1/3, 1/4, 1/75th of the 10.
My fraction passion began as an innocent chile'
An engaging lesson taught with a cherry pie
Deviously fractions slunk into my life
Under the pretense of fun and vieling true strife
Cups of sugar, tablespoons, Bing cherries, flaky crust
How fun you are fractions, first impression was to trust
That math could be awesome, engaging, and true
Oh, what wicked webs, Fractions are lying to you
They are not just for cooking, measuring, and such
Later they cause headaches when divided and mutiplied much
You see fractions grab you as a child and place you under their spell
You've no idea how slippery the slope is to torture, but they know it well
Alas, after 1st grade Math had opened this portal, a dasturdly door,
Blindly I was tricked to stroll through and loathe evermore.
My Voice
This came from a lesson that a fellow teacher demonstrated for my summer institute on getting kids to recognize and demonstrate voice in writing. With many students they haven't enough writing experience to really decide what their voice is, but when I did this activity I really feel it put a concrete feeling to what your personal voice is in your writing.
Recipe for My Voice
Ingredients
2 cups of compassion
4 Tablespoons of playfulness
1/2 cup of respect for others
2 Tablespoons of glee
3 Tablespoons of encouragement
a dash of confidence
2 cups of anxiety
1 cup of eithera fear, uncertainty, or guilt
Sarcasm and humor sprinkles on top
Recipe
1. To form the base of this complicated souffle, pack down the 2 cups of compassion so that it forms a strong, solid layer underneath everything else. Sprinkle 4 TBS of playfulness on top of this compassionate base.
2. In a seperate bowl, stir 2 TBS. of glee with 3 TBS. of encouragement. At this point add the dash of confidence. (Note: Confidence is a rare ingredient. If it can not be found than imitation extract of confidence will fool you average taster, but unfortunately not the consumer with the very fine palate.) This will be the next layer.
3. The final layer, which does create an admittedly sour cream crust, is made of 2 cups anxiety (make sure anxiety has sat out and simmered for at least 24 hours) To the anxiety, fold in the cup of fear, uncertainty, or guilt. Pour this mixture on top of the sweet filling for a contrast of flavors. Finally, however, to tone down the bite of the top layer, sprinkle with humor and sarcasm.
Warning: When baking, timing is so important. The humor and sarcasm should, like yeast, cause the concoction to rise; however, depending on the air of the room, to humid, for example, or too cold, and the souffle may fall flat.
Recipe for My Voice
Ingredients
2 cups of compassion
4 Tablespoons of playfulness
1/2 cup of respect for others
2 Tablespoons of glee
3 Tablespoons of encouragement
a dash of confidence
2 cups of anxiety
1 cup of eithera fear, uncertainty, or guilt
Sarcasm and humor sprinkles on top
Recipe
1. To form the base of this complicated souffle, pack down the 2 cups of compassion so that it forms a strong, solid layer underneath everything else. Sprinkle 4 TBS of playfulness on top of this compassionate base.
2. In a seperate bowl, stir 2 TBS. of glee with 3 TBS. of encouragement. At this point add the dash of confidence. (Note: Confidence is a rare ingredient. If it can not be found than imitation extract of confidence will fool you average taster, but unfortunately not the consumer with the very fine palate.) This will be the next layer.
3. The final layer, which does create an admittedly sour cream crust, is made of 2 cups anxiety (make sure anxiety has sat out and simmered for at least 24 hours) To the anxiety, fold in the cup of fear, uncertainty, or guilt. Pour this mixture on top of the sweet filling for a contrast of flavors. Finally, however, to tone down the bite of the top layer, sprinkle with humor and sarcasm.
Warning: When baking, timing is so important. The humor and sarcasm should, like yeast, cause the concoction to rise; however, depending on the air of the room, to humid, for example, or too cold, and the souffle may fall flat.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Boxes 2nd edition
To an adult a box is a box. A cardboard cube, a boring bin. An adult packs boxes to the brim with knick knacks and this and that to be moved from here to there or anywhere.
They will not stop to play with the box, will not crawl inside the box, and grownups will not decorate the box. They don't understand.
But children know that a box is more than just a box. We know the truth because even though we are smaller, and younger, and somewhat more wild, we are also wiser, and relaxed, and somewhat more clever.
A new toy can only be that one toy...but the box it arrived in? The sky is the limit to what it can be. The sky is the limit as to what we can see.
Boxes turn into robots with holes cut for little arms, legs, and faces. We can’t draw on our new toys, it is a rule, but no one will fuss if we add life, and dials and switches to our machine suit. Grownups do not remember robot-speak, but kids CAN - BE - THE – ROBOT.
On a chilly autumn day, Mom will wrap us in our turtlenecks and scarves. We fill a box with red, orange, and yellow leaves and create a pit to pounce in. Beware! Creepy bugs may crawl up our arms and legs. Parents will only be happy that the yard is clean; they don't understand the prize in a fall blanket.
In the winter, if snow is scarce, flattened boxes are sleds that soar down steep, grass-covered hills. We love zooming down, down, down and tumbling in a pile at the bottom of the ride. Who needs snow to fly?
After a move to a new house, a million boxes are left empty. What a kingdom these boxes can make! Big, small, and medium sized, the boxes create a castle of turrets, drawbridges, dungeons, and moats. In a flash, we can escape to our fortress to defend our freedom from dragons, sorcerers, naps, and little brothers.
A giant box can be a candy land cottage. Let’s use Mama's old, red tablecloth for curtains. Borden milk cartons can be flower boxes, and we can draw our picket fence with a white crayon. Because we are decorating our box, we can color family portraits, wallpaper patterns, or a fancy chandelier its walls. Interior design by Crayola. Adults think walls are only to hold up buildings. If they only knew!
"All Aboard!" Several boxes create the boxcars of the Santa Fe Express rumbling along the Pecos Valley Railway. While exploring the Wild, Wild West, we are pioneers of the plains racing a buffalo stampede and escorting covered wagons from town to town. We barely escape an outlaw robbery by Jesse James riding past the freight cars, gun blazing.
In which season of someone's life does a box turn back into a box? Boxes don’t have to turn back into boxes, you know? Kids, when confronted with cardboard, we must promise to remind those grownups what fun it can be to think outside the box.
They will not stop to play with the box, will not crawl inside the box, and grownups will not decorate the box. They don't understand.
But children know that a box is more than just a box. We know the truth because even though we are smaller, and younger, and somewhat more wild, we are also wiser, and relaxed, and somewhat more clever.
A new toy can only be that one toy...but the box it arrived in? The sky is the limit to what it can be. The sky is the limit as to what we can see.
Boxes turn into robots with holes cut for little arms, legs, and faces. We can’t draw on our new toys, it is a rule, but no one will fuss if we add life, and dials and switches to our machine suit. Grownups do not remember robot-speak, but kids CAN - BE - THE – ROBOT.
On a chilly autumn day, Mom will wrap us in our turtlenecks and scarves. We fill a box with red, orange, and yellow leaves and create a pit to pounce in. Beware! Creepy bugs may crawl up our arms and legs. Parents will only be happy that the yard is clean; they don't understand the prize in a fall blanket.
In the winter, if snow is scarce, flattened boxes are sleds that soar down steep, grass-covered hills. We love zooming down, down, down and tumbling in a pile at the bottom of the ride. Who needs snow to fly?
After a move to a new house, a million boxes are left empty. What a kingdom these boxes can make! Big, small, and medium sized, the boxes create a castle of turrets, drawbridges, dungeons, and moats. In a flash, we can escape to our fortress to defend our freedom from dragons, sorcerers, naps, and little brothers.
A giant box can be a candy land cottage. Let’s use Mama's old, red tablecloth for curtains. Borden milk cartons can be flower boxes, and we can draw our picket fence with a white crayon. Because we are decorating our box, we can color family portraits, wallpaper patterns, or a fancy chandelier its walls. Interior design by Crayola. Adults think walls are only to hold up buildings. If they only knew!
"All Aboard!" Several boxes create the boxcars of the Santa Fe Express rumbling along the Pecos Valley Railway. While exploring the Wild, Wild West, we are pioneers of the plains racing a buffalo stampede and escorting covered wagons from town to town. We barely escape an outlaw robbery by Jesse James riding past the freight cars, gun blazing.
In which season of someone's life does a box turn back into a box? Boxes don’t have to turn back into boxes, you know? Kids, when confronted with cardboard, we must promise to remind those grownups what fun it can be to think outside the box.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Kid With Box on Head
During National Writing Project Summer Institute yesterday, my "class" took a mini field trip to USM's museum of art. They are exhibiting children's author and photographer Tana Hoban's collection. Her daughter, Miela Gallob Ford, donated the collection to USM after Mrs. Hoban passed away. It is a great exhibit, and I would highly recommend it to my elementary teacher friends. Text me and I will give you the information. I also highly recommend it to my photography friend, Chris Maul of Chris Maul Photography because I could see him creating similar projects with a writer (ahem, wonder if he knows any of those? ahem, ahem?). Here are some books that Tana Hoban is famous for:
Anywho, one of the pictures in the collection of children's photography inspired the beginning of a writing piece. The title of the picture was "Kid with Box on Head," original, right? This photo pictures a very young girl who has cut out a window in a box and placed said box on her head. She looks like a robot, causing everyone who walks past the picture to chuckle knowingly, and it reminded me of the passionate love that all children have for the simplicity of a box.
This is a very rough, rough draft. My purpose for presenting it on this blog is for you, whoever you are, to help me make it better. Please give me ideas, ask questions, etc. I have a vision of turning this, one day, into a children's book with real photography of children making use of boxes.
To an adult a box is a box. A cardboard cube, a boring bin. An adult packs boxes to the brim with knick knacks and this and that to be moved from here to there or anywhere. They will not stop to play with the box, will not crawl inside the box, and grownups will not decorate the box. They just have no clue.
But children know that a box is more than just a box. We know the truth because even though we are smaller, and younger, and somewhat more wild, we are wiser, and relaxed, and somewhat more clever. We recognize the potential of a box over shiny, new toys in crisp, colorful wrapping paper. A new toy can only be that toy, and the wrapping paper is torn and, therefore, of no use...but the box? The sky is the limit to what it can be. The sky is the limit as to what we can see.
Boxes magically turn into robots as holes are cut for little arms, legs, and faces. Dials, gauges, numbers, and such supply power to a machine friend. Though forbidden to draw on new toys, it is considered quite creative to add symbols and switches to android suits. Adults do not remember robot-speak, it is a language they no longer can hear, but kids CAN - BE - THE - ROBOT.(pic of child with box on head)
On a chilly autumn day, boxes are not just boxes, and leaves are not just leaves. Turtlenecked and scarved, we fill a box with red, orange, and yellow and create a pit to pounce in; Beware! Creepy bugs may crawl up our arms and legs, so there is some danger in diving pleasure. Parents will only be happy that the yard is clean; They also don't quite understand the prize in a fall blanket.
In the winter, if snow is scarce, flattened boxes are sleds that soar down steep, grass-covered hills. We love zooming down, down, down to tumble in a pile at the bottom of the ride. Who needs snow to fly?
Moving to a new house creates a treasure trove of boxes left empty and waiting. What a kingdom these boxes create! Big, small, and medium sized, the boxes create a castle of turrets, drawbridges, dungeons, and moats. In a flash, we can escape to our fortress to defend our freedom from dragons, sorcerors, naps, and little brothers.
A giant fridge box can be a cottage in the woods made picture perfect by Mama's old, red tablecloth hung as curtains, Bordon milk cartons as flower boxes, and white crayon-sketches as a picket fence. Though forbidden in the hallway, it is considered fine art to add any type of family portrait, wallpaper pattern, or fancy chandelier on the cottage walls and ceiling. Interior design by Crayola. Adults think walls are only to hold up buildings. If they only knew!
"All Aboard!" Several boxes create the boxcars of the Santa Fe Express rumbling along the Pecos Valley Railway. While exploring the wild, wild West, we are pioneers of the plains racing a buffalo stampeded across the plains and escorting covered wagons from town to town. We barely escape an outlaw robbery by Jesse James riding past the frieght cars, gun blazing.
In which season of someone's life does a box turn back into a box? Perhaps when one is too old to crawl inside a castle, fort, or cottage. Or perhaps when one can no longer see past the end of one's nose. This doesn't have to happen, you know. Kids, when confronted with cardboard, we must promise to remind our aged friends what the world holds for those who can think outside the box.
Anywho, one of the pictures in the collection of children's photography inspired the beginning of a writing piece. The title of the picture was "Kid with Box on Head," original, right? This photo pictures a very young girl who has cut out a window in a box and placed said box on her head. She looks like a robot, causing everyone who walks past the picture to chuckle knowingly, and it reminded me of the passionate love that all children have for the simplicity of a box.
This is a very rough, rough draft. My purpose for presenting it on this blog is for you, whoever you are, to help me make it better. Please give me ideas, ask questions, etc. I have a vision of turning this, one day, into a children's book with real photography of children making use of boxes.
To an adult a box is a box. A cardboard cube, a boring bin. An adult packs boxes to the brim with knick knacks and this and that to be moved from here to there or anywhere. They will not stop to play with the box, will not crawl inside the box, and grownups will not decorate the box. They just have no clue.
But children know that a box is more than just a box. We know the truth because even though we are smaller, and younger, and somewhat more wild, we are wiser, and relaxed, and somewhat more clever. We recognize the potential of a box over shiny, new toys in crisp, colorful wrapping paper. A new toy can only be that toy, and the wrapping paper is torn and, therefore, of no use...but the box? The sky is the limit to what it can be. The sky is the limit as to what we can see.
Boxes magically turn into robots as holes are cut for little arms, legs, and faces. Dials, gauges, numbers, and such supply power to a machine friend. Though forbidden to draw on new toys, it is considered quite creative to add symbols and switches to android suits. Adults do not remember robot-speak, it is a language they no longer can hear, but kids CAN - BE - THE - ROBOT.(pic of child with box on head)
On a chilly autumn day, boxes are not just boxes, and leaves are not just leaves. Turtlenecked and scarved, we fill a box with red, orange, and yellow and create a pit to pounce in; Beware! Creepy bugs may crawl up our arms and legs, so there is some danger in diving pleasure. Parents will only be happy that the yard is clean; They also don't quite understand the prize in a fall blanket.
In the winter, if snow is scarce, flattened boxes are sleds that soar down steep, grass-covered hills. We love zooming down, down, down to tumble in a pile at the bottom of the ride. Who needs snow to fly?
Moving to a new house creates a treasure trove of boxes left empty and waiting. What a kingdom these boxes create! Big, small, and medium sized, the boxes create a castle of turrets, drawbridges, dungeons, and moats. In a flash, we can escape to our fortress to defend our freedom from dragons, sorcerors, naps, and little brothers.
A giant fridge box can be a cottage in the woods made picture perfect by Mama's old, red tablecloth hung as curtains, Bordon milk cartons as flower boxes, and white crayon-sketches as a picket fence. Though forbidden in the hallway, it is considered fine art to add any type of family portrait, wallpaper pattern, or fancy chandelier on the cottage walls and ceiling. Interior design by Crayola. Adults think walls are only to hold up buildings. If they only knew!
"All Aboard!" Several boxes create the boxcars of the Santa Fe Express rumbling along the Pecos Valley Railway. While exploring the wild, wild West, we are pioneers of the plains racing a buffalo stampeded across the plains and escorting covered wagons from town to town. We barely escape an outlaw robbery by Jesse James riding past the frieght cars, gun blazing.
In which season of someone's life does a box turn back into a box? Perhaps when one is too old to crawl inside a castle, fort, or cottage. Or perhaps when one can no longer see past the end of one's nose. This doesn't have to happen, you know. Kids, when confronted with cardboard, we must promise to remind our aged friends what the world holds for those who can think outside the box.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
When I Was Young in the Anywhere, Everywhere Army
This piece was inspired by this book...
It is a great children's book, and if you have children, you should get it and have them write their own "When I was Young." Fun, fun activity. They would also love to hear your "When I was Young."
So hear goes...
When I was young in the army, we never stayed anywhere more than two years, that was the maximum that the Colonel would let you stay at HIS base.
When I was young in the army, every two years Dad made a choice from three options, exotic options like Hawaii or Florida. But Dad never chose the fun places. He chose North Carolina; Ft. Polk, LA; or Seminary, MS, always as close to our "home base" as possible.
When I was young in the Army, one time Dad DID choose the exotic place, Bitburg, Germany. My mom and I boarded a plane. I had never been on a plane before because the other places were within driving distance, if you count several days as driving distance, which my Dad most certainly did. BUT, we couldn't drive over the ocean, so we flew to meet Dad in Europe.
When I was young in Germany, many of the streets were made of rocks, and nuns would walk past us in the village outside the base as we headed to the ice creame shoppe for spaghetti ice, my favorite dessert. Spaghetti Ice was vanilla ice cream squeezed through a press to look like noodles. The sauce was strawberry topping, and the meatballs were crushed nuts and whip cream. For years my parents have tried to replicate this dessert with no luck thus far.
When I was young in Germany, we lived eight flights up in an apartment that was very small. No living conditions in the army are spacious, but it was nice and cozy and together.
When I was young in Germany, we would walk in Volksmarches, like volkswagon is the people's car, Volksmarches are the peoples' walks. We would walk for 500 million kilometers. I would last about .75 kilometers of the 500 bazillion before I shimmied up my dad's side to my perch on top of his shoulders. At the end of each Volksmarch, medals were hung around our necks. The exhausted crowd devoured Bratwurst, and Dad drank dark beer out of souvineer beerstiens.
When I was young in Germany, there were vineyards, windmills, durndell dresses, mountains, and sight seeing, a lot of sight seeing. The images of Europe are beautiful snapshots in my mind. Everyone in my family agreed it was the best experience ever, and we should definitely go back one day.
It is a great children's book, and if you have children, you should get it and have them write their own "When I was Young." Fun, fun activity. They would also love to hear your "When I was Young."
So hear goes...
When I was young in the army, we never stayed anywhere more than two years, that was the maximum that the Colonel would let you stay at HIS base.
When I was young in the army, every two years Dad made a choice from three options, exotic options like Hawaii or Florida. But Dad never chose the fun places. He chose North Carolina; Ft. Polk, LA; or Seminary, MS, always as close to our "home base" as possible.
When I was young in the Army, one time Dad DID choose the exotic place, Bitburg, Germany. My mom and I boarded a plane. I had never been on a plane before because the other places were within driving distance, if you count several days as driving distance, which my Dad most certainly did. BUT, we couldn't drive over the ocean, so we flew to meet Dad in Europe.
When I was young in Germany, many of the streets were made of rocks, and nuns would walk past us in the village outside the base as we headed to the ice creame shoppe for spaghetti ice, my favorite dessert. Spaghetti Ice was vanilla ice cream squeezed through a press to look like noodles. The sauce was strawberry topping, and the meatballs were crushed nuts and whip cream. For years my parents have tried to replicate this dessert with no luck thus far.
When I was young in Germany, we lived eight flights up in an apartment that was very small. No living conditions in the army are spacious, but it was nice and cozy and together.
When I was young in Germany, we would walk in Volksmarches, like volkswagon is the people's car, Volksmarches are the peoples' walks. We would walk for 500 million kilometers. I would last about .75 kilometers of the 500 bazillion before I shimmied up my dad's side to my perch on top of his shoulders. At the end of each Volksmarch, medals were hung around our necks. The exhausted crowd devoured Bratwurst, and Dad drank dark beer out of souvineer beerstiens.
When I was young in Germany, there were vineyards, windmills, durndell dresses, mountains, and sight seeing, a lot of sight seeing. The images of Europe are beautiful snapshots in my mind. Everyone in my family agreed it was the best experience ever, and we should definitely go back one day.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Peanut!
My cousins and my grandmother used to sit around her kitchen table with cheese straws, three decks of cards, and a scoresheet. The youngest, and only girl grandchild, I would peer behind each chair, making my way slowly and quietly around the table, so as not to be a nuisance and risk getting shoo'ed away. I would continue to circle like a buzzard, for the hour or so it would take, trying to make sense of this card game that caused Stewart's hands to fly rapidly in a blur from stack to stack.
This crazy game in which the concentration on H.B.'s face would become fierce, and so, so serious.
This curious pastime that would frustrate my Grandmother so, to the point of suddenly and piercingly squealing,
"Slow down! You are going too fast; I'm old!"
The big boys would grin and slow their Speedy Gonzalas hands a little. Grandma would cut a sly look out of the corner of each eye at each boy and proceed to cheat. Taking advantage of the boys' kindness, my sweet, loving, devious, mischevious Grandmother would manipulate those cards and her grandchildren terribly. Oh, yes, there was some serious cheating going on at that table, but we all loved the game, and I was fascinated.
I began to teach myself to play. Really, it was only abbreviated games of solitaire being played off of one another. The first to win their solitaire hand would scream (if that someone was Grandma) or squeak like a timid mouse (if it was a cursed grandchild who knew they were about to cause a dark cloud to ascend),
"PEANUT!"
The first step beyond simple observation was to teach my hands to soar. I played solitaire until I was FAST, until my hands could be blurs as well. Next step was to resume my position behind the chairs, namely Grandma's chair, and proceed to tell her where to place her cards. She permitted this for a short time, only because I was the only granddaughter, therefore preferred, and definitely the favorite. The boys never would have permitted this as I was, to them, an annoying little bug whose only positive trait was that I was incredibly ticklish and, therefore, capable of providing them with several minutes of entertainment. However, even to Grandma, I eventually bacame too much of a pest, and she finally became aggravated enough to spit out the words I had been waiting to hear,
"Quit telling me what to do, child, and sit down! Stewart, get her a pack of cards."
In that moment I realized that I had my own chair; I would forevermore be asked to play, at every visit, every holiday, and every sweltering summer afternoon.
Every now and then I won, most often I lost, and sometimes, even I...(gasp) CHEATED...a little.
This crazy game in which the concentration on H.B.'s face would become fierce, and so, so serious.
This curious pastime that would frustrate my Grandmother so, to the point of suddenly and piercingly squealing,
"Slow down! You are going too fast; I'm old!"
The big boys would grin and slow their Speedy Gonzalas hands a little. Grandma would cut a sly look out of the corner of each eye at each boy and proceed to cheat. Taking advantage of the boys' kindness, my sweet, loving, devious, mischevious Grandmother would manipulate those cards and her grandchildren terribly. Oh, yes, there was some serious cheating going on at that table, but we all loved the game, and I was fascinated.
I began to teach myself to play. Really, it was only abbreviated games of solitaire being played off of one another. The first to win their solitaire hand would scream (if that someone was Grandma) or squeak like a timid mouse (if it was a cursed grandchild who knew they were about to cause a dark cloud to ascend),
"PEANUT!"
The first step beyond simple observation was to teach my hands to soar. I played solitaire until I was FAST, until my hands could be blurs as well. Next step was to resume my position behind the chairs, namely Grandma's chair, and proceed to tell her where to place her cards. She permitted this for a short time, only because I was the only granddaughter, therefore preferred, and definitely the favorite. The boys never would have permitted this as I was, to them, an annoying little bug whose only positive trait was that I was incredibly ticklish and, therefore, capable of providing them with several minutes of entertainment. However, even to Grandma, I eventually bacame too much of a pest, and she finally became aggravated enough to spit out the words I had been waiting to hear,
"Quit telling me what to do, child, and sit down! Stewart, get her a pack of cards."
In that moment I realized that I had my own chair; I would forevermore be asked to play, at every visit, every holiday, and every sweltering summer afternoon.
Every now and then I won, most often I lost, and sometimes, even I...(gasp) CHEATED...a little.
My Solemn Vow
Ugh! I hate my name. Hippy on the one end and old-fashioned on the other. Crystal Faye. It sounds like an exotic dancer. When I was very young, my mother would try to appease my complaints about my name saying, "It means 'Crystal-Clear Faith,' and that is what I want you to have, so beautiful, named after your Grandmother." Awwww, how precious! We have a wide abundance of horrific names in our family, so I guess I should be delighted that I didn't get one of the others (sorry, Ronald Osborne).
Fast forward several years, to the day I uncovered reality. Suddenly, the truth was out there. By there I mean there in the living room. On a particularly lacking summer day, I was kneeling on the shag carpet, thumbing through my parents old vinyl records, for lack of anything better to do and because I have always found it interesting to see what Mom and Dad were like "back in the day" when they were real people, not parents. Suddenly, my thumb stopped,
"Surely NOT!"
I panicked, realizing that I had indeed discovered the cold, hard truth.
Right THERE, sandwiched between Pat Benatar and the Eagles, record after record after record, of a ridiculously long, long-haired, twangy-voiced, country singer that I had surely never heard of before now.
Crystal Gayle.
When approached with the offensive evidence, my Dad vehemently denied both his obession for this artist and that he would ever commit such a grevious sin as to inflict a preformer's name on his first-born child, like some silly teenage groupie. But...the proof is in the pudding and my mother's knowing smirk. So I did the only thing a tween could do to absolutely rebel with every fiber of my being against something that had been decided and thrust on me without my knowledge, permission, or even acceptance, I chopped all my hair off and vowed a solemn vow, my most special promise, to NEVER, EVER in my life let my mane grow past my shoulders.
Fast forward several years, to the day I uncovered reality. Suddenly, the truth was out there. By there I mean there in the living room. On a particularly lacking summer day, I was kneeling on the shag carpet, thumbing through my parents old vinyl records, for lack of anything better to do and because I have always found it interesting to see what Mom and Dad were like "back in the day" when they were real people, not parents. Suddenly, my thumb stopped,
"Surely NOT!"
I panicked, realizing that I had indeed discovered the cold, hard truth.
Right THERE, sandwiched between Pat Benatar and the Eagles, record after record after record, of a ridiculously long, long-haired, twangy-voiced, country singer that I had surely never heard of before now.
Crystal Gayle.
When approached with the offensive evidence, my Dad vehemently denied both his obession for this artist and that he would ever commit such a grevious sin as to inflict a preformer's name on his first-born child, like some silly teenage groupie. But...the proof is in the pudding and my mother's knowing smirk. So I did the only thing a tween could do to absolutely rebel with every fiber of my being against something that had been decided and thrust on me without my knowledge, permission, or even acceptance, I chopped all my hair off and vowed a solemn vow, my most special promise, to NEVER, EVER in my life let my mane grow past my shoulders.
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