zero slime

When this snail popped into my head, my first thought was pink?!?

Then I thought, why not flaunt that pinkness?

He is a delight and unlike most snails, leaves zero slime wherever he goes. 

"Thursday" is a new curse word. If screamed repeatedly to blindly played drums and guitars, it would be music!

​This past week has been very long, tough, and exhausting. However, for every dark and ominous cloud, there's been a bit of sunlight peeping through.  

The first problem really was ​a storm, one that knocked out our power for two days.  Oddly enough, a plumber came by the first day and magically pulled a functioning toilet from his hat (I'm tired, so there will be a plenitude of platitudes in this post).  Now we have a potty on the first floor, and it couldn't have magically appeared at a better time (It was dark. We could hear the plumber, but couldn't see him. So it was magic).

Just as our electricity came on, Robert's grandma, Carolyne, was admitted to the hospital after her heart tests came back showing some very blocked arteries.  She had triple bypass heart surgery on Thursday and it was successful.  She will be in the hospital for the next few days, healing and probably growing ornerier.  

Robert's mom, Audrey, was also scheduled for surgery on Thursday to mend a few tears in her shoulder.  Her surgery could not be moved, so while Robert stayed with his Grandma, I spent 7 hours watching TV with Audrey, as her surgery kept getting moved back. Eventually, she went into surgery and it was also successful.  She is currently staying with us and being doted on by Rachel, who just finished her last day of summer school Thursday.  

After both surgeries were completed and declared successful, I left the two sick ladies to Robert's care, and managed to take Rachel to the last half of the much-deserved Vans Warped Tour (which is code for angsty teen festival).  Though my brain, which was already exhausted, was nearly obliterated by four hours of screaming metal music, Rachel kicked serious butt this summer in school and has been looking forward to this music shindig for months.

I was a little surprised that one of my favorite bands, American Authors, was playing, so a mushy brain was a small price to pay for Rachel's happiness and hearing a few live American Authors songs. I even had the delightful surprise of watching Rachel sing along with American Authors.  She says that she listens to music that isn't screaming metal, but I have heard little evidence of it.  You know how everyone has a noise they can't stand? Rose and Ella despise the sound of  bubble wrap being popped. I can stand the sound of a tile saw. Robert loathes the blender so much he leaves the house when I make smoothies. Well, if someone doesn't throw a tantrum and start screaming during a song Rachel is outta there. Occasionally I'll hear her playing something melodic, and intrigued, I move in a bit closer (damn my hopeful heart). When she notices me listening to her music, she smiles.  But this moment is almost always ruined when the singer suddenly and murderously starts screaming and throwing a tantrum.  So maybe she was caught up in the moment, or maybe she happens to like American Authors. I may never know.  Maybe Rachel wonders whether I'll embrace screaming metal someday.  And maybe there's a compromise - like whispering metal or something that starts out brooding and ends up banjo silly.  No matter what, I think she may have a hopeful heart too.  

So yes, it's been crazy here, but I think things are looking up. Carolyne is healing.  Rachel is done with school for a couple weeks. We have a newfound appreciation for electricity.  Rose and Ella have a temporary house guest they can smother with affection. And who knows, maybe by tomorrow I will be able to hear Audrey ask for help.  Or will I?  

tennis balls

Just like last summer, Rachel excitedly signed up for summer classes at a nearby community college. This summer she's taking a public speaking course and beginning Spanish.  In January she learned that she couldn't get into the International Baccalaureate program unless she tested into Spanish II as a junior.  So she's been seeing a tutor weekly since early spring, and to beef up her chances, she also decided to take college Spanish this summer.

And she's doing so well in both classes!  She's been acing her Spanish tests and really investing her energy and time into the speeches she's been assigned.  While we were away on our float trip, we brainstormed the topic for her last speech, which is a tribute speech.  When she threw out the idea of tennis balls I wasn't really sure what she meant, but decided to hear her out. Well then we floated and who talks about homework during a float trip?  

While I was in my office today I heard a lot of chaos going on downstairs, which didn't really sound like speech writing.  But when I went downstairs and saw this I immediately scolded myself for doubting her.

Rachel is writing about Ella's kind of tennis balls, and one aspect is what kind of ball is most appealing.  The tennis balls are lined up according to desirability, and lead to a very tired (and possibly confused) golden retriever.

waterlogged with happiness

Rachel, Robert, the dogs, and I just returned from a fabulous mini trip that included floating down the Niangua river and visiting with my Dad and his girlfriend, Lisa. 

Naturally we did a little thrift shopping, where I found treasure - a stamp set with both the words of animals and the animals themselves. It's missing a few pieces, but is so perfect for journaling.

Rose and Ella were sorta accepted by two of Dad and Lisa's four cats:



Everyone got their cat fix (and then some). It's pretty obvious Jake (cat) only has eyes for Lisa.



There was so much peace to be found on the river, and we're just plum waterlogged with happiness:

On the way home Rachel conked out, but Ella was happy to provide a soft place to land:



Because we used a disposable water camera, the bulk of our pictures still need to be developed.  So here's to good-ol'-fashioned waiting for pictures.  If there are any keepers I will share them with you as soon they're developed!

The Undoing Project

At first I cursed all the sticky tabs I would need to carefully remove from this book.  And then a coworker pointed out the cover.

And the irony was just so beautiful I couldn't help but love each terrible sticky tab.

ready to teach my bike a lesson

Robert has been building shelves in the garage (nothing has fallen yet!) and also fancy bike hangy things.  

And Rose and Ella and I have been... Well, we've been taking it easy.  



With my hip problem on one side and a bum knee on the other, I took several days off, but am hoping that I can outwalk a couple geriatric golden retrievers here in a few days. And maybe try to stay on my bike this time.

when the library opens after a holiday and the lights are flipped on...

Walking into work after a holiday always gives me some anxiety.  Especially during the seconds prior to flipping on the lights as I wonder just how big the pile of returned materials is. 

Today wasn't too scary.  Sure, the library was missed on a rainy 4th of July, but the book drop didn't reflect that so much as today did.

We were completely slammed.

Piles and piles of books kept the book drops constantly full. Lots of assistance was needed. Tutoring resumed. And everyone needed books right now.

At one point we ran out of carts so I decided to shelve a cart of children's books.  I thought, what could be more fun than losing my hearing, skirt, and sanity?

I know what you're thinking.  Any one of those things sounds entirely like too much fun.

Imagine tootling around on a little stool with wheels, shelving books.  Now pretend like you are doing this in a gumball machine.  Except the gumballs are tiny toddling humans with grabby little fingers and shrieking mouths.  Now attempt to stand up, drag your stool with wheels through the melee to get to another section, and a few of the grabby hands clutch your skirt.  Repeat repeat repeat.  When I finally finished and made it to the elevator a child asked for books on animals just as sweet as can be.  Who can refuse that?  So off we go to look for animals. Just as I'm attempting another elevator escape a tutor pushes a bouquet of unsharpened colored pencils into my hands to be sharpened (pencil sharpener is in the office out of reach of grabby hands).

After sharpening the colored pencils I am finally in the elevator with my cart, breathing a sigh of relief, and here comes a lady with twin toddlers and a stroller with twin babies.  Out of the elevator I go, and after another ten minutes of questions I officially climb my way out of the gumball machine.

The real question is, will I shelve another cart of children's books tomorrow if we're still backed up? Oh heck, why not.  

June Favorites

June was a pretty good month for reading. Nothing really let me down or made me roll my eyes.  I do, however, have an interesting conundrum regarding my June favorites.  One of the books simply doesn't exist yet so to speak.  A favorite coworker of mine came back from one her meetings clutching a book and looking absolutely tickled about something.  She was giddy because she had nabbed an advance reading copy of Caroline by Sarah Miller. And not only that, she informed me I could read it first since she was in the middle of a series.  Why so much giddiness about this book? Well this coworker and I happen to be mega Little House on the Prairie fans.  If it has anything to do with LHOTP or Laura Ingalls Wilder, you name it, we've read it.

Caroline, which comes out in September, is a beautifully written, fictionalized account of Caroline, Laura's Ma, during their Kansas journey. I thoroughly enjoyed Caroline and couldn't put it down.  I even took walks with it in the hopes of finding a bench perfect for reading.  And I had so much success that I ended up doing a lot of bench-hopping instead of walking.  I am currently writing the review but will wait until the book becomes available to post it. Until then, I leave you with its beautiful cover and one of my favorite lines, which happens while Caroline tries to comfort Laura and Mary during a thunderstorm. "She had not arms enough to shelter them both at once.  Laura was still so little, but Mary was plainly smothering in her own fear.  It did not seem fair that each could have only half of her, nor that her heart should favor one side of her chest."

Five-Stars Trails - The Ozarks : 43 Spectacular Hikes in Arkansas and Missouri



I love this book so much I'm buying it. The trails are rated by accessibility, difficulty and also solitude, which is truly a wonderful idea.  I've hiked a few of these trails and think the information in this book is spot on. I cannot wait to try out the rest of the trails in this book!

And because I have it ready (and the book exists), here's the full review for my final June favorite.

Stir by Jessica Fechtor



​I'll admit I wasn't sure about a memoir that alternated between recipes and recovery from an aneurysm​, but Stir must have won me over because I not only felt the unique disappointment that only happens when finishing a good book, I also can't stop talking about it. Jessica Fechtor's recovery from a brain aneurysm while running on a treadmill is memoir-worthy without the wonderful observations, recipes, and memories. That's why Stir is a multi-layer cake of a memoir, a cake so fluffy with life and beauty, not even an aneurysm can sour it.

Each chapter is comprised of both an intimate essay portraying Jessica's life before, during, and after her aneurysm and a recipe correlating with that part of her life. Prior to her aneurysm, Jessica was ambitious - teaching, cooking, working towards her doctorate in Jewish Literature, and running every day. Stir is a little bit of that old life, mixed with both a long recovery and her new life, which is equal parts grasping for her old life while giving cooking more attention than she had prior to her illness. The recipes range from cholent with kugel to a simple tomato soup, and celebrate her family and roots while revitalizing classics with intriguing modifications. Jessica utilizes leftovers in a lot of her recipes, which really jives with my own style. I cannot wait to have leftover greens and rice so I can try her crispy rice and eggs recipe. Another recipe, a kale and pomegranate salad, calls for pomegranate molasses, which is something I have never heard of. As a huge molasses fan, I immediately set out to find a bottle of it before I even finished Stir.  

Though I love the recipes and applaud Jessica's bravery during her long recovery, I enjoyed her observations the most. The last bit of mustard in a grey poupon jar helps "emulsify the oil and vinegar into a uniform dressing," and gives "a jar at the end of its life . . . one more job to do."  And ". . . when you put freshly baked bread and a lump of softened butter on the table, you are taking good care of your people, no matter the rest of the meal." Jessica struggles through a handful of surgeries that cause a variety of issues. One surgery leaves her with a chunk of skull missing and Doctor's orders to wear a helmet until the chunk can be replaced. She also loses sight in one of her eyes and has a temporary loss of smell. Her ability to embrace each of these hurdles while simultaneously searching for ways overcome them is a lesson in both mind over matter and resilience. At one point Jessica realizes that, prior to her aneurysm, she thought she was being considerate by helping out while visiting friends for dinner. By doing so, however, she prevented others the pleasure of hosting. During her recovery she "allows herself to be hosted." She also questions that if silence describes the opposite of noise, what is the opposite of scent? Observations like these make Stir a page-turner.

I enjoyed Jessica's outlook on life, her plentiful and unique descriptions, and applaud her determination through her long recovery. With each new setback Jessica patiently and determinedly familiarizes herself with the new changes in her body and mind. She not only adjusts to the changes, she refuses to let them get in her way for very long, especially not in the kitchen.