Just As I've Suspected All Along

Babies really are just the larvae of the human species. (Thanks to the wonderful and delightful blog, Boing Boing, from which I lifted this.)

HOORAY!

Today in the mail I received verification that my application for a school librarian's license has been approved. It took 7 years, but here I am. Now I just need a job ...

Here is a great essay, entitled "Why You Should Fall To Your Knees and Worship a Librarian." Oh, and SHHH!

25 Random Things About Me Mememememe

Yoga Korunta tagged me for this memememe on Facebook, so I'll just publish it here too, OK?

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25* people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

1. I prefer black tea, English style with milk and sugar, to coffee in the morning.

2. I love to get places under my own propulsion -- walking, biking ...

3. I love to play guitar and sing; I think I sing well and I'd be a better guitar player had I started at 16.

4. I have been folk dancing for 34 years, off and on

5. I also play recorder; I have since I was 8 and got my first instrument for my birthday while traveling in Germany.

6. Marzipan is my favorite confection.

7. My 3 kids were all delivered by a midwife, 2 of them at home.

8. I met my husband when I was 15, he was 14.

9. I hitch-hiked through Europe alone when I was 17. My parents didn't know. (In other words, I was stupid.)

10. My favorite literary genres are: memoir, coming-of-age stories, and historical fiction.

11. When all else fails me, I read Terry Pratchett.

12. I wish I knew how to write songs.

13. I love Corgis (the stocky, foxy-looking little dogs favored by Queen Elizabeth) and have had 2 of them, although right now we have a Dalmation mix whom I adore.

14. I knit like crazy and have no idea how to crochet.

15. When I go outside at night I always look for the moon, the Big Dipper, Cassiopia, the Pleiades, and Orion (in season.)

16. I've only seen Aurora Borealis a couple of times, and I wish to see it again. Soon.

17. I want to try snow shoeing.

18. I loved changing diapers when my kids were small. We used cloth diapers and washed them ourselves, and I liked that too. And no, I don't have some sort of fetish.

19. I would choose a good grapefruit over any other kind of fruit. Especially now, in January.

20. One of the best vacations we ever took was to the Bay of Fundy National Park in New Brunswick, Canada. (I imagine that my children would beg to differ, but tough. I'll tag them and they can put in their own 2¢ worth.)

21. On our honeymoon in Paris, we went to see Jim Morrison's grave. Why? We were staying right down the street from the cemetery, it was there ...

22. I hiked up Mt. Washington in New Hampshire. It was fun, and I'd do it again.

23. My car is a 1990 Volvo station wagon. (Anyone surprised?)

24. I used to have my fingers sing operas while I washed dishes -- but you'll just have to take my word for it. No repeat performances ever again. (Not even my husband has seen it.)

25. I'm scared of earthworms.

*Consider yourself tagged, if you want to be.

Kindergarten Conversations

Today we were lining up in the hallway to walk to lunch. One of my little boys is standing with his hands in his pockets and says, "I'm juggling in my pockets." I wasn't sure I heard him correctly, so I said, "Did you just say you were juggling in your pockets?" (I'm already cracking up.) He says, "Yup. I have invisible balls." A couple of seconds later he says, "They don't hurt though."

Whew, that's a relief!

Pass the EFCA!

I don't care how "decent" your employer is ... you still need a union.

Michael Moore's website has a link to this article about the Employee Free Choice Act (EFCA) from the Washington Monthly. It offers a cautionary tale.

Here is our personal cautionary tale:

Mr. Ether worked for a small upscale remodeling firm. The owner and his family became friends of ours. They contributed to the local community radio station as well as to a community children's theater group. Nearly everyone who worked there was politically progressive. They ate (and grew) organic food. Our kids socialized with each other when they were younger. And when people in the company experienced hard times, we jumped in and helped out, because that's what we do.

Mr. Ether used to joke that he should begin an effort to unionize. And then he'd say, "Nah, it's a small business and they're good, decent people. We don't need a union." And they were/are good decent people. Except when the recession really started to hit a year and a half ago, they looked at the bottom line and only at the bottom line when they laid off Mr. Ether.

When work picked up briefly last summer, rather than hiring Mr. Ether back, they hired another younger woodworker at less pay. They have expanded the physical plant of the business, building 2 new buildings on the grounds. It makes me wonder if they were truly in financial trouble, or just experiencing diminished profits -- a different thing entirely, in my opinion.

Oh yeah, and few of these "friends" has bothered to call and see how things are going. When I see someone from the company they don't ask me how Ed is doing. I think the answer makes them uncomfortable. We could have lost our house and they wouldn't know.

Ask me if you need a union. Hell, yes!

(The image that illustrates this post is available as a poster from the wonderful, labor-friendly Northland Poster Collective. Please give them your business when you can.)

Overheard Today at the Coloring Table

1st child: You have a crush on Barack Obama.

2nd child (indignantly): I do not want to crush Barack Obama!

3rd child: That's not very nice!

1st child (patiently): No, a crush means you like somebody ...

Kindergartners never cease to amaze me.

Food For Thought

Last week Mr. Ether and I attended the funeral of our friend's father. It was a quintessential Midwestern Lutheran service, complete with ham sandwiches, potato salad, and white cake in the basement afterwards. (No lime Jell-O though.)

The pastor delivered a sermon that left me scratching my head. In effect, it was an admonishment to the deceased for not attending church enough. He did acknowledge that there are many ways in which to worship without being in a church. But then he said something else that I thought was so interesting, and perhaps true. He said, and I paraphrase, that the people who question religion are the very ones that he would like to see in church. Because if they don't come, then you're simply left with the blindly obedient.

I suspect that there are a great many pastors who would prefer it to be that way -- to lead a flock of sheep rather than, say, cats. But I was impressed with this guy. He made me think.

Musing

As we sit on the eve of Barack Obama's inauguration, I have mixed feelings. I think he has the potential to be a great leader -- in the best sense of the word -- and that gives me hope. I feel a profound sense of relief to be reaching the end of these 8 years that, at times, seemed endless. To Cheney, Bush, et al I echo the sentiment of Tom Tomorrow's Sparky the Penguin when I say, "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out!" But I remain angry that all of them are free now to retire to the leisurely life of the über-wealthy, mindless of the destruction they brought down globally, thanks in part to the absolute stubborn refusal of the Congressional Democrats to call them on their crimes.

Not to have taken any action was to allow them to continue their reign of terror, with impunity. I will always consider the majority of Congress from the last 8 years to have been complicit in the crimes of the Bush Administration. Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid top my list.

I recently read an essay by some columnist or other who stated that if the U.S. continues to refuse to investigate BushCo for war crimes, the rest of the world will do so. Nancy Pelosi is making noise now about a criminal investigation; I have little faith that it will happen, or if it does they'll find no improprieties in the last 8 years. So maybe being tried in the World Court is the best thing. They may not do prison time, but they'll officially be persona non grata throughout the rest of the world, unable to set foot on foreign soil to dine with the Queen, etc. etc.

This piece appeared on Daily Kos yesterday, and I have to say, in a Quakerly fashion, that it speaks to my condition. One last time (I'd like to think, in a wildly celebratory moment ) -- Jesus, I'm sick of these people!

Where's Kevin Bacon?

Blasphemy!

Photo by Joseph Blough from the Mercury Players Theater website

The musical, that is. If you read this and live in the Madison area (Jess? Poodle Doc? Sminthia? Anonymous Beth? All and sundry lurkers -- you know and I know who you are ...) you absolutely must hie yourselves to the Bartell Theater and see Blasphemy, playing Thursday-Sunday, now through the end of January. Catherine Capellaro and Andrew Rohn, the creative geniuses behind Temp Slave and Walmartopia, bring you "an unholy trinity of musical comedies." We begin with The Rapture, move on to Purgatory, and then, finally, Paradise. In between each of the main acts we get two Intermezzos that explore Creationism and Scientific Theory, and feature the most creative use of an overhead projector that I've ever seen. I laughed and I laughed some more. This is a must-see.

Meet "Chowder" -- my very own Sea Kitten!

Isn't she cute? Mighty tasty too!

Welcome to Tropical Wisconsin

Just checked -- school is canceled for the 2nd day in a row. Here's a screen shot of this morning's temperature:
As you can see, we're expecting a veritable heat wave following the weekend.

This is priceless!

After I admonished Mr. Ether not to write a post about "Joe" "the Plumber", I have to indulge in some hypocrisy and post a link to Rick Sanchez's slapdown of Sam the War Correspondent, as reported at Crooks and Liars.

Trawling for Sea Kittens

Thanks to PETA for giving me the biggest laugh of the day. Mind you, I'm not trying to take issue with people who work for animal rights, or people who choose not to eat meat. I just question the effectiveness of PETA's tactics.

There are many reasons not to eat fish. Personally I have cut way back on any seafood consumption both because of the mercury content and because there are very few types that are not endangered due to pollution, loss of habitat, or overfishing. Furthermore, I don't question whether fish have feelings or are social beings. But ... sea kittens?

I admit, we eat meat in our house. White meat, red meat. However, over the last few years we have made a conscious decision to cut back on meat consumption, and then spend more money to buy locally and organically grown, humanely raised meat, as well as other animal products. Many small-time farmers raise heritage breeds of animals, that are in danger of becoming extinct otherwise, if there wasn't a market for them. I know it sort of sounds like "We had to destroy the village to save the village" logic, but in this case I think it makes sense.

Gotta go now and snuggle up with my sea kittens in the bathtub.

Late breaking update: Buy your "Save the Sea Kitten" merchandise here! I want one!!

New Book Reviews

As promised, here are a couple of book reviews:

Thunder and Lightning by Natalie Goldberg. As I mentioned in a previous post, in the past I have been very moved by Natalie Goldberg's books about writing. This one ... not so much. I got through the first couple of chapters, but I am having a hard time wanting to pick it up to read. It might not be the book at all. It might be -- gasp -- me. Her writing is striking me as utterly too self-absorbed this time around. I'm wondering, "Who in the world has the time to sit in a café and fill up notebooks with writing practice?" I suppose one could say the same thing about blogging, or even incessant knitting. (She cuts her eyes from side to side, nervously.)

If you are interested in sampling Natalie Goldberg's work, I heartily recommend starting with her classic, Writing Down the Bones. If you want to read more about the writers' craft, get hold of Bird By Bird by Anne Lamott. It will both inform and make you laugh, always a good combination. Save Thunder and Lightning for a time that you really get on a Natalie Goldberg kick.

A Mercy by Toni Morrison. I confess, I've never before read anything by Toni Morrison. Not Beloved. Not The Bluest Eye. I must have missed taking those Women's Studies classes in college. A Mercy is the story of Florens, a slave girl whose mother gives her up to pay off a slave trader's debt. Florens bears the scars of that abandonment for the remainder of her life. It is also about Lina -- an Indian woman who takes Florens under her wing, Sorrow -- a mysterious young woman who has survived some trauma at sea, and Rebekka -- the wife of trader Jakob Vaark. Set in 1680, it paints a stark portrait of early American life.

I'm about 4/5ths of the way through the book, but I don't think I can finish it. The writing is good, but the story is relentlessly depressing with -- so far -- no redemption or transcendence. It is not that I am indifferent to reading about the hardships people faced, but I am in need of something more upbeat right now.

I am going back to my old standby. You guessed it: Terry Pratchett. I need to laugh at the human condition right now, and nobody does that for me quite the way he does. First, The Hogfather, in honor of the holiday season that is quickly receding behind us. Then I think I will start reading a subgroup of the Discworld series, about the Watch of Ankh-Morpork, starting with Guards, Guards.

Interested in trying Terry Pratchett? I recommend either The Wee Free Men (written for young adults, but slyly suggestive in parts) or Going Postal about the birth of Ankh-Morpork's postal service. You might also enjoy The Monstrous Regiment. Those are three of my favorites.

This is heresy!

Call me old-fashioned, but this is just wrong.

He might be almost 90 years old in real terms, but Christopher Robin and his bear of very little brain are set to make a literary comeback after the estate of AA Milne agreed to authorise the first-ever official sequel to the much-loved children's books.

Return to the Hundred Acre Wood by author David Benedictus picks up from the poignant ending of Milne's last Pooh book, The House at Pooh Corner, in which Christopher Robin is growing up and heading away to school. "Pooh, promise you won't forget about me, ever. Not even when I'm a hundred," he tells the bear, and they leave together. (Read the rest here.)

One good thing -- at least it wasn't written by J.K. Rowlings.

Unspeakable

There aren't strong enough words of condemnation for this.

Or this.

Reading

My brother emailed me today, and was teasing me about reading Lord of the Rings (see my sidebar.) "Why?" he asked facetiously. "Didn't you see the movies?" I'm actually reading it for [only] the third time. I think it is a superbly written book, and reads more like history than fantasy.

However, I'm finding myself bogging down and reluctant to pick it up these last few days. I think that with Israel's incursion into Gaza and the growing civilian casualties, I am having a hard time stomaching reading about epic battles between good and evil forces, and war as the dominant paradigm.

I picked up a copy of Natalie Goldberg's Thunder and Lightning: Cracking Open the Writer's Craft at a used book store on Christmas eve. (I can't keep from going out and doing last minute shopping on that day, no matter how firm my resolve.) Tonight I abandoned LOTR (for the time being) and I read the introduction, where Natalie apologizes to her readers for misleading them down the writers' path in her first book Writing Down the Bones.

I had to laugh. I read -- and was profoundly moved by -- both Writing Down the Bones and Wild Mind a number of years ago. It was during a period of time that I have little desire to revisit. I was teaching in a program that was being dismantled all around me and struggling with changes that were being wrought in the field of education by the advent of "the standards movement" (the precursor to No Child Left Behind.) I was in a fog of grief over the death of my daughter, and trying to be a good mother to my other two young children. It was also during that time that my father died suddenly. And I had two unplanned pregnancies (using contraceptives, just in case you are inclined to comment on that,) both of which I chose to terminate. There were days when I came home from work and literally curled up in a dark room with my fingers in my ears to block out all sensory experiences. My well was dry.

That's when I turned to writing practice, first Natalie Goldberg's books and then to Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way. I got up every morning and wrote for 30 minutes. I filled notebooks with a lot of unhappiness (or so I remember; I can't bring myself to go back and reread any of it now.) I drew a lot of little sheep, because I really wanted to pursue fiber arts.

Thankfully, something shifted. The fog lifted. I fell back in love with teaching. I found ways to integrate my desire to write and to create art, with the rest of my life. So it is amusing to pick up Natalie Goldberg once again, and have her say, "Don't go down this path! It will only lead to suffering! All art leads to suffering!!"

I'll keep reading. I might even write a book review when I'm done.

Miserable Failure

When asked about his son's failures, the elder Bush said, "You can go back to your, what do you call it, your Google, and you figure out all that."

Um, I think I can figure it out without my Google. Except that he and all his buds have made out like bandits. So is he a failure or isn't he?

And this investigation of Bill Richardson ... the Republicans are shocked and appalled, shocked and appalled I tell you. Never mind Halliburton, Blackwater and the Carlisle Group.

One more thing: the whining emanating from the Norm Coleman camp. Puh-leez!

OK, rant's over.

Smaller Than Life

In a NYT op ed piece, Frank Rich hits the nail on the head, concerning George W. Bush.

WE like our failed presidents to be Shakespearean, or at least large enough to inspire Oscar-worthy performances from magnificent tragedians like Frank Langella. So here, too, George W. Bush has let us down. Even the banality of evil is too grandiose a concept for 43. He is not a memorable villain so much as a sometimes affable second banana whom Josh Brolin and Will Ferrell can nail without breaking a sweat. He’s the reckless Yalie Tom Buchanan, not Gatsby. He is smaller than life. Read the thing in its entirety.

Unfortunately, probably bidden by his obscenely wealthy NeoCon pals, he is still wreaking as much havoc as he can before he exits the national scene entirely. As I've said all along, he is a mean, stupid, dangerous little man. I regret that he is not being tried for his crimes.

I'm b-a-a-a-ck, but ...

... this is kind of how I'm feeling. Maybe I can muster some energy for an anniversary post after a nap.
(Photo is of "the Stupid's Wonderful Dog Kitty" -- my sister's boxador -- labrador/boxer mix. Kitty is adorable, except when she's peed on the floor for the umteenth time. Ah, puppies.)