We saw Les Miserables yesterday, and...

...um, yeah, I pretty much love this woman for summing things up:



More to come soon -- busy with family just now!

On the Fourth Sunday of Advent, My Daughters Said To Me

"Mom, have you written your Christmas fan fiction yet?"

Every year, since 2008, Anne-with-an-e has issued her annual Christmas Fan Fic Challenge. We all write stories, using Harry Potter characters, and then read them to each other over Christmas Eve dinner. (Past thoughts here.)

As of this morning, I had not written a word, but as of about an hour ago, I'm ready for the Christmas Eve unveiling of the stories.

How was your fourth Sunday of Advent?

Advent at A Knotted Life

Have you been following Bonnie Engstrom's Advent series at A Knotted Life?

I'm there today.

Lots of great stuff, ideas, reflections from a lot of thoughtful, funny, intriguing bloggers . So, go! Get over there! What are you waiting for?

In the Third Week of Advent My Daughters Said to Me

"Thanks, Mom, for the early Christmas present -- Beauty and the Beast was amazing!"

We had such fun and it was Ramona's first time to see a touring Broadway show. Her review?

She said, "It was supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. But who can spell that? So I'll just say it was fantastical."

Happy Feast of St. Lucy!

This was our Lucia Bread just a little while ago:

But we put a respectable dent in it. It doesn't look as pretty now, but it's serving the purpose for which it was created.

Happy St. Lucia day!

Sydney and Advent and Unconditional Love

Look at this face:

This is a face that says, "I love you. More than walks! More than rides in the car. More than rawhide bones! More than sniffing every disgusting, stinky spot of grass in the park, and you know how much I love that. More than belly rubs. I love you so much that if you, in that A.D.D. way you have, jump up from your desk five times in ten minutes to go tend to suddenly-remembered things, I, too, will jump up, and I will follow you! No matter how much I looked like I was enjoying a snooze. I will wait for your command; I will take any job you give me; I will threaten to kill the UPS man for you! Because I love you. No matter what you do."

I wish I could love like that.

Sometimes when the dog who owns that beautiful face irritates me, I find myself thinking, "Well, I like the dog most of the time, but I don't really love her when she throws up," or, "I don't really love her when she insists on going outside three times in half an hour. And I don't love her when she smells like that ...."

I wish I could look at everyone, and every important thing in my life, and God, with the same devotion that Sydney displays in that picture up there. Instead, I often find myself reacting to the world much more in the manner of a cat. Oh, yes, to be sure, there's kitty-happy-hour in my life -- you know, that frantic racing around the house just for the sheer and utter joy of it? But then there's also that gazing with contempt at things that get in my way. That attitude of indecision that is so cat-like: "Shall I accept you into my personal bubble? Or should I bite you on the face?" Then there's the whole love of sleep thing.

And though my cat has been known to curl up next to me, purring, in the middle of the night when I'm having trouble sleeping, it's always really more for his sake than for mine. When he's done with me, he's done. He's outta there. It's always on his terms.

In this season of waiting, this Advent, this time of reflection and resolutions, I'm thinking about being more like a dog -- accepting everything that comes my way with a goofily happy resignation. Frantic, anticipatory joy. Stupid gratitude.

I know I won't get there this Advent. I probably won't make it in this lifetime. But it's worth shooting for the attitude of utter love I see in that picture, don't you think?

I will not, however, threaten any bodily harm to a UPS man. Ever. Love the UPS man. So back off the man in brown, Sydney.

Advent on the Radio

I'll be on Morning Air with Sean Herriott at about 8 a.m. central time this morning. And since we'll be talking about Advent, I thought I'd round up a few posts.

The No-Panic series is right over there in the sidebar. ----->

Other Advent posts from the past:

2010
2011
So far this year 

And a post from the archives about Advent resolutions:

I love Advent. Liturgically, it's the beginning of a new year, full of possibility. Now is the time for new year resolutions.

Advent ~~ pregnant with hope and promise, anticipation, and with the fear and trembling of working out our salvation while God is at work in us ~~ is precisely the right time to assess our  spiritual lives. 

The liturgical calendar is a wise and gentle gift. 

"Time falls like manna at the corners of the wintry earth," Fr. Merton says.

Time.
Time to slow down.
Time to savor what's been given us. Gifts. Crosses.
Time to pray about what is to come.
Time to pray about the way He came to us as a baby, the way He will come again in glory.
Time.

When we mentally connect "Time" and "Advent" we so often think, "There's not enough! There's no time! There's never enough time!"

Oh, but there is. Stop. Listen. Be still for awhile.

Advent by Thomas Merton

Charm with your stainlessness these winter nights, 
Skies, and be perfect! Fly, vivider in the fiery dark, you quiet meteors, 
And disappear. 
You moon, be slow to go down, 
This is your full!

The four white roads make off in silence 
Towards the four parts of the starry universe. 
Time falls like manna at the corners of the wintry earth. 
We have become more humble than the rocks, 
More wakeful than the patient hills.

(Read the whole poem here.)

On the Second Sunday of Advent My Daughters Said to Me...

Anne-with-an-e: Hmmm?

Me: I said it's time to get up.

Anne: What?

Me: Time to get up. Get ready for Mass. Are you awake?

Anne: No.

Me: Are you awake enough to get up and eat?

Anne: No.

Me: What should I do about that?

Anne: Leave me alone.

~~~~~

Anne is not a morning person. Happy Second Sunday of Advent.

(Anne is, however, a good sport, and I'm sure she won't mind that I'm exploiting her night owl nature for the sake of a blog post.)

~~~~~

In other Advent news, the gingerbread house extravaganza had to be postponed due to illness at the home of the hostess. We hope to return to our regularly scheduled gingerbread griping soon.

~~~~~

St. Nicholas visited our house on the eve of his feast day. He left chocolate galore, and really cute socks, and a new Christmas ornament for everyone. Ramona's ornament was somehow broken during the night. I apologized profusely for St. Nicholas's clumsiness. I really have no idea how it could have happened, because you'd think he'd be pretty steady on his feet, with those big, black boots and all, not to mention being the kind of person who is mindful of breakables. But it turned out that St. Nick wasn't the only clumsy one. The next day I was showing Atticus the tiny broken part of Ramona's ornament and I dropped the ornament on the wood floor. Now it has a big, gaping broken part.

I promised Ramona that I'd replace her new ornament. I'm thinking something in a nice plastic or fabric?

~~~~~

Books I still adore reading at this time of year:

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever 
The Twenty-Four Days Before Christmas 
The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey
Hanna's Christmas 

Oh, who am I kidding? All of them.

~~~~~

Feast days coming up this week:

Our Lady of Guadalupe and St. Lucia. 

The bread! The bread! You can do it.

I'm not much of a photographer but every year I sigh at this picture of our bread.

Poetry Friday: Willa Cather, for Fr. Scott

Today is Willa Cather's birthday, which might have completely escaped my attention if not for a Facebook note from a priest in Rome.

Fr. Scott and Garrison Keillor were on the same page, though, and here's the poem for today on The Writer's Almanac:


L'Envoi
by Willa Cather

Where are the loves that we have loved before
When once we are alone, and shut the door ?
No matter whose the arms that held me fast,
The arms of Darkness hold me at the last.
No matter down what primrose path I tend,
I kiss the lips of Silence in the end.
No matter on what heart I found delight,
I come again unto the breast of Night.
No matter when or how love did befall,
'Tis Loneliness that loves me best of all,
And in the end she claims me, and I know
That she will stay, though all the rest may go.
No matter whose the eyes that I would keep
Near in the dark, 'tis in the eyes of Sleep
That I must look and look forever more,
When once I am alone, and shut the door.

~~~~~

Another Cather link: 

The Willa Cather Archive

~~~~~

Fr. Scott, we miss you! Come home and talk literature with us. 

~~~~~

Robyn Hood Black has the roundup today. 

I Should Have an Entire Category Devoted to Gingerbread Houses. But Do I? No.

(I'll take care of that later.)

Ever since we started doing this in 2009, when my friend Johnna and I thought it would be fun (fun! We thought it would be fun!) to make homemade gingerbread for the houses, I have posted about this change in our lifestyle. Because homemade gingerbread houses aren't just an annual trial, holiday project, they are a way of being.

Yes, this has been an evolution:

2009 introduced me to an aching gingerbread back. But the results were worth it.

2010 saw me procrastinating and cursing promising myself to plan a bit better in the future.

2011 saw me getting it all figured out. Cookie cutters -- check. Parchment paper -- check. Gingerbread recipe that we all love -- check. Making only two houses because Ramona said she'd do a graham cracker one instead -- check. Wait, strike that. She did say she'd do a graham cracker one, but then asked so sweetly if she could also have a full-sized gingerbread house. So that was the year Ramona decorated her Ditto house in graham cracker (Thank you, Sarah, who lives in the real Ditto House!) and also made a gingerbread church.

This year, it's all coming together -- the scheduling, the recipe, the tools, the timing. Here's where we are:

Make enough dough for houses for everyone: Check.

Make enough dough for all accoutrements (i.e., gingerbread men, reindeer, candy canes, etc.) Put a note on said accoutrements, forbidding their consumption until after construction day: Check.

Take ibuprofen for back: Check.

Promise readers to share the final results and promise readers and children everywhere that I will keep last year's promise not to complain: Pretty-much-check.

Stay tuned.

On the First Day of Advent My Daughters Said to Me ...

"It's time to start listening to the Christmas playlist!"

Wh-wh-what?! I sputtered. I glared. I said, "You guys! You should wait until Christmas to listen to Christmas music!"

~~~~~~~~~~

I have a confession to make. Atticus corrupted my family's Adventian ways in the music department.

Yesterday we began decorating the house for Advent. Anne-with-an-e mentioned that she had just put a bunch of Christmas music on her mp3. Betsy chimed, "It's December 1st! The day I start listening to Christmas music!"

I sensibly retorted, "But it's only Advent! You should save it. Remember when I never used to let any of you listen to any Christmas music until Christmas day?"

"Yeah," said Betsy, "but then Dad would take us with him to go grocery shopping and he always put Christmas music on in the van. I wanted to go grocery shopping just so I could listen to Christmas music."

We don't keep Advent perfectly, people. But I promise not to panic about it. And Christ is all about forgiveness, so I forgive you, Atticus.

(Photo thanks to Stock.Xchng.)

Donna-Marie is Rooted in Love

Donna-Marie Cooper O'Boyle has a beautiful new book, Rooted in Love: Our Calling as Catholic Women, that explores what it means to be a woman striving to be a reflection of Christ everyday, in all things.

In the course of her exploration, Donna-Marie shares a number of personal stories (her own, and those of others), some of them extraordinarily painful. Through these often startling and dramatic anecdotes, she demonstrates that no matter how difficult life becomes, we can turn to Christ and find comfort and healing, growing closer to Him in the midst of suffering.

And Donna pinpoints the ways in which we women can be much harder on ourselves than we need to be.  An excerpt:

I think that we women can become our own worst enemy by worrying that we're not doing enough to please others and God, too. We actually heap more responsibilities (whether they be actual or emotional) than is necessary upon our own shoulders. We deal with so many demands for perfection in our lives. Many of the saints spoke about how a whole lot of us might never do very big things in life (or what some might consider "big" things.) But we can lead simple yet faithful lives by doing small things with great love. This is very pleasing to God and is actually the secret to real holiness as both St. Therese of Lisieux and Blessed Teresa of Calcutta preached. And, yes, God calls all of us to become saints.

Perhaps the irony is that, as many women struglle with the demands of our society and the mass media to become "perfect," achieving perfection is simply being faithful to the duties of our lives. God looks at perfection much differently than do we.

Abandonment, loneliness and loss, health problems, crime, and numerous other sufferings -- such painful situations and heartaches can eventually become avenues of grace. Donna knows that. She has faced her own personal hardships and isn't afraid to share them in the hope that her experiences can inspire and encourage other women. Donna-Marie strives to be a whole-hearted disciple of Christ, and she wants the same for every single one of us.

For more information, and to visit other stops on Donna's blog tour, check out her Rooted in Love blog.

Poetry Friday: A Brief for the Defense

Poet Jack Gilbert recently passed away. This interview in The Paris Review will give you a great sense of who he was.

Gilbert often wrote about love and loss, with searing accuracy, tempered with hope. A couple of weeks ago, after Gilbert died, Atticus sent me this poem.


Here's the last part of the amazing "A Brief for the Defense":


                                              ... We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world. To make injustice the only
measure of our attention is to praise the Devil.
If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,
we should give thanks that the end had magnitude.
We must admit there will be music despite everything.
We stand at the prow again of a small ship
anchored late at night in the tiny port
looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront
is three shuttered cafés and one naked light burning.
To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a rowboat
comes slowly out and then goes back is truly worth
all the years of sorrow that are to come.


(Read the whole poem here, at The Poetry Center at Smith College.)

~~~~~~~~~~

The round up this week is hosted by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater at The Poem Farm.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Advent

Actually, the world is beginning to look a lot like Christmas, but Advent is my story and I'm sticking to it.

That means I'll engage in a little Advent busy-ness Saturday, in order to start our preparations for Christmas.

The Advent wreath will come out:

The Jesse Tree will go up:

The Jesse Tree

Finding Jesus in the Old Testament

But a shoot shall sprout from

the stump of Jesse, and from his

roots a bud shall blossom.

The spirit of the Lord shall

rest upon him: a spirit of

wisdom and of understanding,

a spirit of counsel and of

strength, a spirit of knowledge

and of fear of the Lord.

~~ Isaiah 11:1-2

The Advent Calendars will appear. All kinds of Advent calendars. Lots of them:

Favorite Advent and Christmas picture books will gather in pagey clusters under the Jesse Tree. Because no one is ever too old for picture books.

Ramona's all-time favorite

~~~~~~~~~~

There's more, to be sure. More to do, more to blog about (and sometimes there will be more blogging about doing less. Less is more, when it comes to Advent.)

There's my No-Panic Advent series, which brings all of our ideas and traditions together in one frighteningly long post.

And there are other Advent link-ups to check out:

"Little Holy Days" will be hosted by Haley at Carrots for Michaelmas, along with Dualing Moms and
Molly Makes Do. Good stuff.

Bonnie Engstrom of A Knotted Life has a great video announcement here about her Advent series. (I'll be part of that one later in December.)

~~~~~~~~~~

So take a breath and remember -- Advent is not a marathon, not a competition, not an event, and not a reason to go crazy. It's preparation for the best birthday party of all time. Just think of the One you're preparing a party for -- you know what He'd say if you could sit down with Him and talk about the soiree:

"Don't go to a lot of trouble for Me. Don't wear yourself out and get stressed, okay? The only gift I really want is the gift of yourself. That's all. Pass the birthday cake. How did you know I wanted chocolate?"

Betsy Finished Her Novel!

Betsy finished her NaNoWriMo novel early, on Monday night, after a long, productive day (with interruptions for an outside class and homework.)

Her final word count came in at about 50,500, and she logged more than 8,000 of those words on Monday! I'm positive that's more than I've written in one day, ever.

This is her second year to tackle this hyper-speed writing project. She finished last year, too, and in her pre-NaNoWriMo days, she completed two novellas, bringing her total book count up to four.

I'm so proud of my novelist!

Recent Reading

1. We read The Search for Delicious, by Natalie Babbit, for Ramona's book club this month. I just loved it, and so did Ramona. Clever, magical, funny. Our book club party is coming up, so I'll report back soon on the food we've chosen. Each family will bring two foods they've deemed to be the definition of delicious.

2. I just read Meet the Austins and A Ring of Endless Light, both by Madeleine L'Engle. I want to live in Vicky Austin's grandfather's house.

3. Also just read a book about being frugal, although it's not really worth mentioning or offering a full review. It basically said: earn more money, spend it wisely, save as much as you can. Yeah. I've got those basics down. Fortunately, I also followed my own rule: don't spend money on books about frugality. Thank God for libraries.

4. Read Austenland, by Shannon Hale. Sweetly romantic, charmingly lightweight, a quick read. I was changing the ending in my head, but only a little bit, and I loved the surprises.

What are you reading?

Happy Thanksgiving

I'll be back to the blog this weekend. 

Have a great Thanksgiving! 

Dads and Daughters: 10 Not-So-Secret Secrets

I just read Meg Meeker's book, Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters: 10 Secrets Every Father Should Know.

The book is full of great and valuable suggestions; the main takeaway points all have to do with strong and constant parental involvement, love, and action.

It reminded me that I am so grateful for Atticus, who is an excellent, loving, involved father and husband. And so, here are our

10 Not-So-Secret Things We've Done to Create Close Father-Daughter Relationships: 

1. Daddy sometimes fed the babies (and changed countless diapers, tossed babies in the air countless times ... but, hey, back to the food): 

I breastfed all of our girls, but there were times in those newborn days when I really needed a break in the middle of the night. He gave them bottles (either expressed milk or a bit of formula), cuddled, rocked them, and put them back to bed. Feeding a baby is a special kind of bonding, and I was so happy they got to experience that.

2. Daddy took care of the little girls when I went to help out at our parish one night a week: 

Weekly, year-round parish commitments can be taxing, and they haven't always worked for us, but when my girls were little, a weekly commitment to an apostolate I loved was a fun and welcome respite for me as a stay-at-home mom. It gave me a little break, some brain work, a booster shot for my faith, and it kept Atticus involved and having fun, one-on-one, with our little girls.

3. Father-Daughter Outings: 

Atticus has always been wonderful about taking the girls out on father-daughter dates, from the time the girls were very little. The dates continue to this day. Atticus is currently the main grocery shopper at our house, and he will often ask a daughter to join him for breakfast out and a shopping trip.

4. Father-Daughter Getaways: 

When I really need a break, Atticus and the girls head out of town for a night, giving me the gift of a quiet house.

5. Dad's Read-alouds: 

He always does one of our regular Advent read-alouds, and our traditional Christmas Eve reading, but he also sprinkles other reading with the girls throughout the year: Mark Twain, James Thurber, O. Henry, Shakespeare, To Kill a Mockingbird, bits of The Great Gatsby.

6. Nature Shows With Dad: 

He's known for calling a daughter into the room and inviting her to join him for something like Raccoon Nation, as he did recently with Ramona while the older girls and I watched Once Upon a Time. (Later, Ramona said to me, "Mommy, I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to watch a show about raccoons, but Daddy really wanted to, so I wanted to. And I'm glad I did! It was really interesting!")

It's not always a nature show. A couple of years ago, he called Anne-with-an-e in to join him for one of her favorite topics (yes, seriously): pandemics.  They were watching Influenza 1918 together when I pulled them away because we had to head to a violin and piano recital. (I was just reminded by Atticus and Anne, as I'm writing this, that on the way over, I accidentally mowed down a skunk ... I guess I was doing my part to bring nature back into the picture.)

7. Cooking With Dad: 

They see him cook. They eat his cooking. They sometimes cook with him. He has taught them that men can cook. He taught them about baking bread. It's that bonding-over-food thing that I mentioned in #1.

8. Their First Red Rose From a Man When They Turn 10 Years Old. Eighteen Roses When They Turn 18: 

This needs no explanation. It's just plain lovely.

9. Shopping With the Girls for Christmas, Easter, and My Birthday: 

Atticus and the girls always conspire to provide me with plenty of chocolate. (It might be as late as December 23rd for the Christmas shopping, but I'm not complaining. Somehow, he always gets everything done.)

10. Family Time: 

Whatever we want to do, wherever we want to go, he's game. His vocation as a father and husband is the top priority in his life, and he makes that very clear to us, through his words, his actions, and his incredibly sweet reminiscing about our girls from their baby days on.

~~~~~~~~~~

The bottom line is that Atticus is an interested, involved, happy father who talks to his daughters, listens to them, hugs them, protects them, feeds them, makes them laugh, teaches them, shares his foundational beliefs and his faith with them, and lets them know that he always has their back. Always.

It's no secret that I'm thankful.

From our '08 trip to Pennsylvania. 

Writing News From My Daughters

Ramona sent a poem to Highlights magazine last January. We had all pretty much forgotten about it until she received a letter from them last month, saying that her poem would appear in the December issue.

Highlights receives about 35,000 submissions a year from kids for their "Your Own Pages" feature. They publish 18-20 poems and drawings each month, so we were delighted for Ramona that her poem was chosen. She was, understandably, over the moon.

*****

Betsy is participating in NaNoWriMo again this year, and she's on target with her word count (goal: 50,000) so far. I've read her first few thousand words, and I think she's doing a great job. I don't know if I have her permission to discuss her plot, but I can reveal that she's tackling her own version of a sort of steampunk that involves Jane Austen and the future.

*****

Anne-with-an-e's writing this semester is mainly for school. She would probably urge you, "Nothing to see here, folks. Move along." I'm happy, though, about how quickly she's picked up on the way she needs to write for a comp class. I'm not the best teacher for essay/academic writing, and I love her current comp teacher for filling in all of the blanks I left. 

*****

And me? Just finished writing a book and now have to work on its revisions. That always makes me want to go rearrange a closet, but I'll try to keep nose to grindstone. 

"Hearing tell of sewing makes me want to sew, too."

So said Ramona yesterday as I read Little Women to her. 

Apparently, hearing tell of people using phrases such as, "hearing tell" also makes her want to talk that way.

Poetry Friday: Anne-with-an-e Leaves Me a Note

What are the benefits of raising children with poetry in the house? Upon arriving home, you get the delight of finding notes like this, from your college-age daughter:

This is just to say
I took the last 100 Grand bar
which you were probably saving. 
Forgive me, 
it was so caramel-y, 
and I just 
got my braces off. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The real "This is Just to Say" by William Carlos Williams can be found here.

Here is a link to a recording of Williams reciting the poem, which comes from this page at Penn Sound -- a treasure trove of audio links.

Here is a video of Matthew Macfadyen (my daughters are swooning) just saying that he hogged the last of the plums.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Poetry Friday round up is at Think Kid, Think!

Living Differently

A couple of months ago, the ever gracious and lovely Alicia Van Hecke asked if I'd like to be part of a new group blog she recently put together. I said yes. (Disclaimer: I haven't actually contributed anything to the blog yet ... I do hope to contribute something worthwhile at some point during this Year of Faith.)

The blog is called Living Differently. Here's a little about it, from Alicia's FAQ page:

What does your title mean?
Our title comes from Pope Benedict XVI's encyclical On Hope: "The dark door of time, of the future, has been thrown open. The one who hopes lives differently; the one who hopes has been granted the gift of a new life."

What is the purpose of this blog?
We live in a noisy world where it can be difficult to foster the important, quiet, intangible things that have not only life-changing, but also culture-changing potential, like the greatest commandment: Love God and love your neighbor. We're talking about powerful things like manifesting God's love in a messy world and the power of being a true witness.

This blog is an experiment in fostering these essential intangibles through prayer and study and providing a respite from important, but "noisy" topics that have a tendency to swamp these intangibles. So you will not find discussions here on politics or how to solve problems on the level of laws and government and voting. Instead, we will emphasize what we can do as individuals on a very personal level to live God's laws of love and change the world by changing ourselves.

Why have you chosen these particular books?
We will be reading a variety of books both spiritual and practical that we have found helpful in living our lives as Christians and Catholics. We have chosen books that are very accessible and engaging. Not all are Catholic, but we will be discussing them in light of our faith and use the Bible and the Catechism of the Catholic Church as our basic reference points.

Alicia is always brimming with Christian charity, and her focus is often something I try to focus on, too: working from the inside out. Trying to be the best Christian I can be. That's really all I can do, and all I want to do.

We all know what today is. That's right. It's 25 days before the first Sunday in Advent.

You may as well be obsessively calm and prepared. My (monstrously long) No-Panic Advent series can be found here.

Poetry Friday: In Heaven It Is Always Autumn

I love this poem by Elizabeth Spires in so many ways.

First, anything that links autumn and heaven is intrinsically right and just.

Second, for lines like this:

It is the last of many last days. Is it enough?
To rest in this moment? To turn our faces to the sun?
To watch the lineaments of a world passing?

Third, I love it just because it sprang from Elizabeth Spires, who is the author of The Mouse of Amherst, a book we love and one which I've posted about several times.

I hope this poem settles in your bones the same way a quintessential autumn day settles in, deep and golden and passing, but with the promise of warmth and unfolding regeneration in faraway days to come.


In Heaven It Is Always Autumn
by Elizabeth Spires

"In Heaven It Is Always Autumn" ~~ John Donne

In heaven it is always autumn. The leaves are always near
to falling there but never fall, and pairs of souls out walking
heaven's paths no longer feel the weight of years upon them.
Safe in heaven's calm, they take each other's arm,
the light shining through them, all joy and terror gone.
But we are far from heaven here, in a garden ragged and unkept
as Eden would be with the walls knocked down,
....

(Read the rest here, at The Writer's Almanac.)

Worthwhile links:

Folger Shakespeare Library, with a link to Spires reading this poem, and explaining its background, and a link to her Emily Dickinson Birthday Tribute Reading in 1999.

More about Elizabeth Spires.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Poetry Friday roundup is at Mainely Writes. 

(Photo thanks to Stock.xchng.)

All Hallow's Eve!

Photo courtesy of Stock.Xchng

Our Halloween traditions have changed a bit since I first blogged about them back in 2006. Obviously we have only one trick-or-treater left (though I still don my homeschooling mom costume for the big night) but there's still Holy Mass, talk of saints, All Soul's Day soon to come ... it's rich, isn't it, this Catholic culture of ours?

Have a happy, holy, hallowed (sorry, that's redundant) evening!

On Relevant Radio Today

I'll be talking this morning (October 31st, 7 a.m. central time) with Sean Herriott on Morning Air about the importance of reading to our children.

Bits and Pieces of Our Days (and Why I Wasn't Here for Poetry Friday)

On Poetry Friday, we opted for live theater over bloggy verse. We went to see a play based on The Borrowers (one of our Homeschool Book Club picks last year.) The production was at The Rose, which is a gorgeous old theater in Omaha:

I have to admit that I wasn't entirely convinced that they solved the problems inherent in trying to portray the size difference between Human Beans and Borrowers. But we all enjoyed the show, and I had fun talking nonstop with a great friend on the way to and from the show.

*****

How about a great TV show? Call the Midwife is perfect. Touching, richly detailed, beautiful. Atticus and I are watching together, and we both love it.

*****

A fun TV show? I watch Once Upon a Time with Anne-with-an-E and Betsy. Loving season two more than we did season one.

*****

Speaking of Anne-with-an-E, she recently turned 19. I'm in a bit of shock. She was 12 when I started this blog, so my stories about her have necessarily changed a bit. Here's a story that hadn't changed for four years, but finally changed today: her braces finally came off. Four years.  This girl is a trouper. A 19-year-old, fabulous trouper.

*****

I am reading I Capture the Castle. I am loving I Capture the Castle. I Capture the Castle has captured  me.  I enjoy saying, "I Capture the Castle." Possibly because I've always wanted to live in a castle. A quaint, crumbling, cavernous castle. With electricity, of course.

The Winner of A Catholic Mother's Companion to Pregnancy is ...

... Diane.

I used a random number generator on the comments from this post, and #7 was the winner. Thanks to all who stopped by and entered.

Diane, please email me with your mailing address and I'll send you the book!

How to Raise Readers (Or Convince Yourself That's What You Did)

1. Buy that Jemima Puddleduck board book when your first child is just a couple of months old. Convince yourself that your brilliant baby actually indicated to you (yes, right there in Barnes and Noble! She did!) that she would love to own that book.

2. Read Jemima Puddleduck daily. Sigh over the illustrations. Snuggle your baby.

3. Read My Name is Big Bird (and all the other -- many, many, many -- My Name is... books) over and over and over again. Because you love your child, because you love the way she is smitten with Big Bird, and because you love reading. But mostly because you love your child. Resist the urge to say something inappropriate and sarcastic when she asks for this book nineteen times in a row before lights out.

(Don't sigh over the illustrations as you did with Jemima Puddleduck. But do sigh over the delicious cuddle-and-read time. It's sighable, and it goes too fast.) 

4. Cynthia Rylant, Jim Arnosky, Barbara Cooney, Allen Say, Josephine Nobisso, Tomie  de Paola, Barbara Helen Berger, Robert McCloskey, picture books about saints, Laura Numeroff,  poetry everywhere, Eric Carle, Mike Venezia....

Stacked in the living room. Strewn in the bedrooms. Piled in the kitchen. Rummaged through at the book store....

Ramona, at the bookstore when she was four years old.

5. Read aloud at breakfast. Read aloud at lunch. Talk about books at dinner.

6. Don't worry about when your child starts reading. An early reader will not necessarily become a better reader than a "late" bloomer. What's important is to keep the love of books alive, whether that happens through independent reading, read alouds, audio books,  or, even better, an ongoing combination of all those things.

7. Frances Hodgson Burnett, Louisa May Alcott, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Melissa Wiley, Beverly Cleary, C.S. Lewis, Maud Hart Lovelace, L.M. Montgomery, E.B. White, Eleanor Estes, Edward Eager, J.K. Rowling, American Girl books, Jean Craighead George, Peg Kehret, Rick Riordan, Brian Jacques, Hilda van Stockum, Jean Fritz, Jeanne Birdsall, Andrew Clements ....

  

8.  Go to the library. Make it a regular habit. Show your children how to use everything: the card catalog, the helpfulness of the librarians, the amazing fun of the self-checkout, the way the stacks are so perfectly constructed and suited to plopping down on the floor to peruse a book together until you ultimately decide, "Yes! Let's check this one out, too!" Teach them to bring their backpacks with them. You'll never check out just one.

9. Don't be the mom in the library who can be overheard saying things such as, "No! Put that back! You read that one last week -- get something new!" or, "Stop it! That one's too easy for you! Get something more challenging, why don'tcha?" Please don't say these things. There's nothing wrong with rereading a book, whether it's a classic or brain candy. Can you ever gaze too many times on a Caravaggio? Have you sworn off popcorn since you already enjoyed it once? Do you ever say, "Stop it! You've looked at that priceless painting before! Move on!" or, "Isn't that popcorn too easy to eat? Why don't you tackle something with some culinary layers?" Nope. Don't do it.

10. Remember this very important rule: no one is ever too old for picture books. Picture books are an art form. The best of them are beautiful and complex while appearing to be simple and simply inviting. Cultivate consumption of them. It's a great habit to acquire.

11. Jane Austen, Harper Lee, Madeleine L'Engle, Ray Bradbury, Flannery O'Connor, Suzanne Collins, Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, poetry everywhere, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Willa Cather, C.S. Lewis, George MacDonald, Shakespeare. Stack them, strew them, pile them, rummage through them. Read them, share them, talk about them.

12. Don't turn books into idols, but do teach your children that books -- the written word, human communication, hearts and souls and minds poured out and preserved on paper -- are vital. They are our story, our history, our future. Books help us sift through who we are, why we are, what we are, and where we want to go.

13. If you do all these things, you will quite possibly raise readers. We did these things, and we have three daughters who love books.

On the other hand, it's quite possible that all the things we did had nothing to do with raising readers. It might just be in the genes. Atticus and I may have ink in our veins, so it's conceivable that no matter what we did, even if we'd spent their lives saying things like, "Put that book down and come watch Gilligan's Island!", they would have wound up loving books. I know people who love books who haven't necessarily raised "readers." It happens, no matter how much some people strew and read and stack.

The truth is, we can't predict what our children will become or mold them into what we want them to be. They are unique souls; they aren't here to be grand reflections of what book lovers we are, or of anything that we are. But, that's another blog post.

Even if we can't guarantee that book-loving steps will lead to book-loving people, one thing we can be certain of is this: Jemima Puddleduck, generally speaking, leads to good things.

Guest Post: Sarah Reinhard's New Book, A Catholic Mother's Companion to Pregnancy (and win a Nook or a book!)

To celebrate the launch of her new book, A Catholic Mother's Companion to Pregnancy: Walking with Mary from Conception to Baptism, Sarah Reinhard invites all of us to spend her blog book tour praying the rosary together. Today, she shares this reflection on the Descent of the Holy Spirit:

I remember bowing my head, sitting before the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament during adoration, and asking God to make me an instrument. I didn’t really know what to pray or how to ask, but I had a strong desire to do his will, and I felt an urge, though I couldn’t put it to words. I wanted to chart and plan, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, so there was nothing to organize: there were no tasks or specifics.

All I could do was turn myself to Jesus. I always picture him sitting beside me with his arm around me when I’m at adoration. It’s an intimate image, one where we are close and almost cuddling. I imagine that I can curl up beside him the way I do with my husband, and, in that comfortable position, confide the deepest parts of my heart.

For many years, the Holy Spirit has been difficult for me to grasp. He’s without form, for one thing, so there’s not a tangible or visual element. Picturing a dove descending upon me has always seemed sort of alarming. Fire above my head? Well, I have a bad relationship with fire after one ravaged through my apartment building in college, so that’s not very comforting or inspiring.

It has taken me many years to understand the Holy Spirit in context of my Catholic faith, and it all started with that prayer during adoration. Jesus is a face, a human, someone I can approach. The Holy Spirit, though it has taken me longer to reach this understanding, is also a person, but he’s a different kind of person—just as my children are vastly different (and yet eerily similar). So I have come to appreciate the third person of the Trinity in his own right.

The Holy Spirit was sent for each of us, to help us and guide us. He’s like GPS, but with the volume turned way down. He will take us all the way to heaven, but we have to clear the clutter and clamor so that we can hear his still, small voice.

Mary is always leading us closer to her son, and she does it with the help of the Holy Spirit. She’s the spouse of the Holy Spirit, which is a concept that helps me relate to the Holy Spirit. I understand spouses from my own experience with marriage. In fact, picturing the Holy Spirit as a tall, dark, protective guy like my husband, one who will gently carry me or fight through the difficulties to get to me, is far more helpful than the dove or fire images.

As we pray this decade of the rosary, let's hold all those brave women who have said yes to difficult and challenging motherhood in our intentions in a special way. Don't forget, too, that we are praying for an increase in all respect life intentions as part of our rosary together this month. (If you’re not familiar with how to pray the rosary, you can find great resources at Rosary Army.*)

Our Father . . . 
10 - Hail Mary . . .
Glory Be . . . 
O My Jesus . . . 

You can find a complete listing of the tour stops over at Snoring Scholar. Be sure to enter to win a Nook (and any number of other goodies) each day of the tour over at Ave Maria Press.

~~~~~~~~~~
*Karen here again ... another great resource for learning about the Rosary is The Rosary: Keeping Company With Jesus and Mary.

Be sure to visit the Wonderful Sarah at the above links and enter her giveaway. I think you'll agree she's wonderful -- she's my friend, my blogging colleague, my fellow coffee fiend drinker, and a wonderful writer. Wonderful things abound around Sarah. Go see for yourself.

Also, to celebrate the Wonderful Sarah's beautiful new book (which I'll be ordering at least three copies of, by the way - one for each of my daughters, for someday....), I'll give away a copy, too! Just leave a comment here, on this post, and I'll pick a random winner on Saturday, October 27th.

Poetry Friday

Yeah, I feel this way some days. Do you?

Understudy 
by Beverly Rollwagen

She just wants an understudy, a body
double for the days when she does
not feel like appearing in any of the roles
she has assumed and/or been assigned.
 ....

(Read the rest, just a few lines, here, at The Writer's Almanac.)

*****

Irene Latham has the round up this week at Live Your Poem.

Bits and Pieces of Our Days (The Spider Edition)

If you don't like spiders, you might want to skip this first bit.

Last night, Ramona was playing outside when something abruptly drove her indoors. Something along the lines of, "Mo-o-o-m! You have to see this spider! It's the biggest spider I've e-e-e-ever seen!" I went out to see this big, huge spider, thinking, "Uh-huh, yeah, sure ... it's probably as big as my thumbnail," and then I got outside. Sure enough, there was a spider on the back porch the size of my cat, and it had captured a small child:

Okay, no. Not really. It wasn't quite that hefty, and it did not have anything, not even an Ariel Barbie, pinned under any of its eight hairy legs. What it did have was the aforementioned gigantitude:

I wish I had a better camera, but a clearer picture might just disgust you.

I have seen this kind of spider before. The last time I saw one it was at least twenty feet away from the house and I saw no need to relay to my daughters the fact that prehistoric, horror-movie-creatures that might inspire one to sputter, "Them! THEM!" lived in our yard.

Anyway, homeschooling mom that I am, I swooped in to transform this Moment of Yuck into something I could record in a journal and call "school." We Googled.  We discovered we had been shuddering at looking at a wolf spider, we think. We did what any homeschooling mother and her daughters would do after research -- we called Atticus. Now, listen -- I'm no wimp when it comes to this stuff. I have had showdowns with mice. I have shooed a bat out of my house. A bat. I have dealt with a 50-lb. dog throwing up at my feet twenty minutes after she finished a lovely bowl of very doggish-smelling kibble. I'm not overly squeamish. But, yeah, I called Atticus. He swept the thing off the porch (can we call a good, hard smash "sweeping"? Yeah, we will...) but then I got kind of curious about why the back end of the spider was so lumpy-looking.

Now, if you're squeamish about spiders, you may not even want to be reading this post, but definitely do not click on this link, as it is about the way in which wolf spiders carry their babies on their backs. And it has pictures. With cameras better than my camera. Yup. The lumpiness was a whole bunch of babies.

"Well," I announced, "I guess we had our biology lesson for the day, eh?"

"Umm, yeah, well, I already had a biology lesson at school," said Anne-with-an-e, "and it was about photosynthesis. I'll take my lesson any day, thank you."

And now that I have so generously shared with you the horror that is the wolf spider, I feel all itchy and icky and I don't think I can do any more bits and pieces. I have to get up and go shake off the imaginary arachnids that are invading my psyche and my arms inside this sweater and the top of my head.

*****

So I shall leave you with a bit and a piece endlessly more pleasant than spiders -- books. Here are two that I read in the last few days, at the request of my daughters: 

Meet the Austins, by Madeleine L'Engle (one of Betsy's favorites)

Mitch and Amy, by Beverly Cleary (at the request of Ramona)

L'Engle and Cleary are two of my favorite writers, women who know children, love children, understand children. Delightful reads. Almost enough to make forget about wolf spiders.

*****

Almost.

St. Teresa of Avila!

A few of my favorite quotes from her:


"Oh my Lord! How true it is that whoever works for you is paid in troubles! And what a precious price to those who love you if we understand its value."

*****

Spoken to God during a trial: "If this is how you treat your friends, it is not surprising that You have so few of them."

*****

"God, deliver me from sullen saints."

*****

"Remember that you have only one soul; that you have only one death to die; that you have only one life ... If you do this, there will be many things about which you care nothing."

*****

Let nothing trouble you
Let nothing frighten you
Everything passes
God never changes
Patience obtains all
Whoever has God wants for nothing
God alone is enough

*****

"Do not dismayed daughters, at the number of things which you have to consider before setting out on this divine journey, which is the royal road to heaven. By taking this road we gain such precious treasures that it is no wonder if the cost seems to us a high one. The time will come when we shall realize that all we have paid has been nothing at all by comparison with the greatness of our prizes."

*****

Bernini's Ecstasy of St. Teresa

Poetry Friday: October, by Robert Frost

This one speaks for itself, but I have to say that I love the way Frost captures the alternately creeping and wild qualities of autumn.

October
by Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.

(... read the rest here, at The Poetry Foundation.)


The round up today is at Teaching Young Writers.

Ramona, Little Women, and Masterly Inactivity

I am loving reading Little Women aloud to Ramona, and I was reminded of this post from six years ago, when I read the book to Anne and Betsy, then ages 12 and 10.

If you can manage some masterly inactivity this week, I wish you sweet daydreams.

~~~~~~

What would one think if one were to happen upon a scene such as this:

A girl is lying on a couch, doing nothing. It is evening, around sunset. She remains in the same spot for some time. Is she lazy? Or sullen? Has she no evening chores to do? No one to care for, nothing to accomplish that is more worthwhile than wasting an evening in slothful lounging?

Hmmm.

What would one think if one were, while reading, to happen upon a passage such as this:

Jo was alone in the twilight, lying on the old sofa, looking at the fire, and thinking. It was her favorite way of spending the hour of dusk; no one disturbed her, and she used to lie there on Beth's little red pillow, planning stories, dreaming dreams, or thinking tender thoughts of the sister who never seemed far away.

~~ Little Women

Charlotte Mason used a phrase of her time -- "masterly inactivity" -- to refer to the time that must be allowed children (or young adults, as Jo was in the above passage ... or old adults, ahem....) to simply be. To think, to ponder, to make connections between life, faith, literature, and sunsets.

How far we have wandered, in our "I'm so proud of how busy we are" world, from the idea that masterly inactivity is of intrinsic value. When we lose the time needed to think and ponder, we lose connections. We lose sunsets, and we forget that life cannot and should not always be managed, scheduled and controlled. We forget to dream dreams and before we know it, tender thoughts are forgotten, because we find we have been too rushed to allow ourselves the luxury of them.

If you can, plan to spend some unplanned time soon ... a quiet twilight, time on the couch, a fire, and tender thoughts.