Our political associate and friend Terry Olson passed away on Oct. 15th. His notice ran today. I am so sad over this. That should read, I am so sad inside of this. Terry was the coolest dude — great husband, father, grandfather, teacher, activist, dog-dad and friend. He fought cancer for so long, so hard. I have never seen anyone fight a disease the way Terry fought his.

Here is my first “real” post that I ever wrote about school politics — the inequities, the unfairness of it all, the effects of poverty as they relate to education. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was doing, I just knew I wasn’t happy with the status quo.

Terry was always quietly supportive of Steve and me. He would also bang on the table with his fists, as necessary. He loved that post, and sent me a note that said, in effect, forget about the recipes and all that, just focus on being renegade. So I did. (OK, I only wrote about food half as much after that.)

He also loved this post, and that thrilled me, that he stamped my work with a big gold star. (For the longest time, when you did a search on “wacky mommy,” Terry’s post popped up at the top of the list: “What Set Wacky Off?” haha.)

Terry was, first and foremost, an excellent teacher. I learned so much from him. (I learned to forgive people, for one thing.)

Love and peace to you, Terry. Love you. I am sorry I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to you, but I didn’t want to say goodbye. Peace to your family, besos y abrazos. You lost a great guy. I am so sorry.

ps — Terry, thanks for outing me, all those years ago, on your blog. Someone needed to do it. (hugs.)

Yep. Steve is audio slave.

I am feeling EXTRA HOLIDAY CHEERFUL cuz I just looked at the nativity scene Beth’s kid made out of Legos and the angel her other kid made out of tinfoil and kleenex. Some kids, you put ’em in a 3rd world country and they just thrive. Also, she’s crazeee and made the snow fly all over her blog when you call it up.

Hmm.

I have not so much creativity over here.

Also, “dinner” is a “problem” again. No appetite, thus I don’t feel like cooking. I’ve had no appetite for something like four or five months. Oddly, not losing weight. (Yes, I’ve gone to the doctor, nothing is wrong. Other than I’m “kooky.”)

A parent stopped by the blog and traumatized me the other day and now I don’t feel like writing. I think it’s someone I know, in person. I think we’ve been at a party together. Fucking don’t traumatize me on my own blog. Fucking pick up the phone and call me or send an e if you’ve got an “issue” with me.

Apology ensued but left me a little baffled.

It’s grade school, it’s not Harvard.

Here’s a joke a kid told me yesterday: “You know why 6 was scared of 7? CUZ 7 8 9! HAHAHAHAHA!”

This is what kids worry about: Is the joke funny or not?

Adults could learn a little something here.

Ho.

wm

(Backyard Fairy Garden/ photo by Rawley/ use with permission only, please and thank you)

So. I read a lot of books for kids and babies. You are probably already aware. And by a lot, I do mean a whole lot. I wish I could review every title that comes my way. I try to, though. Good enough.

All of that reading does not always leave me much time for devouring the so-called “Grown-up Books.” When I do try to read some “real,” actual fiction, my first thought is: Pictures? My second thought is: Wow, that’s a lot of words. My third thought is: Now I sleep.

Here is half of the stack that’s currently toppling over on the side table in the dining room and on my nightstand. Why read one book when you can read 10 at once? was always my kids’ motto, and it became my motto, too. Competitive bunch. I haven’t finished even one of these tomes yet, but I will finish them all, eventually. (Do you want to know what I just made for dinner? Of course you do. A Devil’s Food Cake (scratch from a mix) and a meat-lovers’ frozen pizza from Winco. I remain the best book reviewer and cook on the planet. Thank you.)

So bon appetit and stay out of trouble: Read more.

xo Nancy aka Wacky Mommy, Reader at Large, at Your Service.

• “Hail Mariam,” by Huda Al-Marashi, is just a great young adult title featuring our hero Mariam, who is Iraqi American and Muslim. She ends up going to the local Catholic school (and is not too sure about it) because her parents think it’s a fantastic idea. Why? “Mama thinks I’m going to make friends who aren’t allowed the same things I’m not allowed. No crushes. No boys. No immodest clothes. But yes to visions of holy prophets!” When her younger sister Salma falls ill, the family comes together, in spite of the challenges. This book is top of my stack and it’s so good. (Kokila, an imprint of Penguin Random House, 2026, 188 pages, grades 3 and up, $17.99.)

• “The Sherlock Society: Art Attack,” by James Ponti (Aladdin/Simon & Schuster, 2026, ages 8 and up, $18.99). (OK this one is more of a kid book. I’ll give myself a pass. An art pass!) I love this series. This is the third book from Ponti featuring the Sherlock Society. Alex, Lina, Yadi and Zoe are traveling to check out south Florida’s art scene and try to solve another mystery. Fun read. Ponti has loads of fans and I can see why.

• “Life’s That Way” is one of the best memoirs I’ve ever read (and I have read many memoirs over the years). And it was written by one of my favorite actors, Jim Beaver. (Bobby Singer from “Supernatural,” Ellsworth on “Deadwood,” and he has many other credits, too.) He and his beloved wife, Cecily Adams, a successful actress and Hollywood casting agent, had just welcomed their sweet daughter Maddie when they learned of Cecily’s cancer diagnosis. Written as email updates to their family and friends, this collection of loving messages filled my heart and broke it, too. Jim is such a good writer, husband, father, friend, actor, all of it. Much admiration and love for this family. (Berkley Books/Penguin, 2009, 319 pages.)

• “Sick in the Head: Conversations About Life and Comedy,” a collection of interviews with comedians by Judd Apatow, who knows something about freaks ‘n’ geeks. This one will be good. (Random House, 2015, 556 pages, $18.)

• “Between the World and Me (One World Essentials),” by Ta-Nehisi Coates (Spiegel and Grau, 2015, 152 pages, $26). “Required reading,” according to author Toni Morrison. I concur. “This was the week,” Coates begins his book, which is a letter to his adolescent son, “you learned that the killers of Michael Brown would go free. The men who had left his body in the street like some awesome declaration of their inviolable power would never be punished.” Strong, powerful writing that comes on like thunder. Coates is a gift to the world. Read him.

• Isabel Allende, “My Name is Emilia del Valle” (Ballantine Books/Penguin Random House, 2025, translated from the Spanish by Frances Riddle, 287 pages, $30). It is 1866, we are in San Francisco. Our characters in this novel include: a pregnant, abandoned Irish nun, a Chilean aristocrat, and then a newborn daughter. (It’s still raining here, in 2026, in the Willamette Valley where I live. I’m reading this book all day, can’t wait.)

• “Emperor of the Air,” short stories by Ethan Canin. A beloved treasure I inherited from my old friend Loran. Love. (Perennial Library/Harper & Row, 1988, 179 pages.)

• “Golden Boy,” a new young adult novel by A.J. Symon (Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, 2026, ages 12 and up, $19.99). A science-crazed young girl’s family dog turns into a human, and everything changes. Surprise!

• “Night of Madness,” scheduled for release end of September, is a creative and intense novel by author Ryan Douglass. (Simon Pulse/Simon & Schuster, grades 9 and up, $21.99). A horror story about five teenager influencers who agree to spend the night on a movie set. The set? Is based on “Asylum,” a retro slasher film. Whoever lives, I mean, lasts out the night, wins a hundred thousand dollars. Surprise, surprise!

• “Where the Crawdads Sing,” by Delia Owens (G.P. Putnam’s Sons/Penguin Random House, 2018, 370 pages, $26). I think everyone has read this book by now except for me, and you know I don’t like to be left out, dang it. Started it, it’s different. Great writing, interesting characters, and the setting is a trip. You feel like you’re there in the sand, by the water, in coastal North Carolina. All good. Except for the dead body.

• I’m looking forward to starting Kristin Hannah’s novel from 2010, “Winter Garden.” (St. Martin’s Press, 394 pages.) This one is about two sisters who have become estranged, but come together to take care of their sick father. Will their mother help? Or hinder? We will see. I love Hannah’s writing style, and she really goes all in on her characters, settings, and descriptions. Highly recommend this author if you haven’t read her yet.

When I was young and drunk, I dated a large Irishman, who was 6’5″ and, like me, an English major and writer. He also liked to drink. And have conversations that were apropos of everything and nothing at the same time. (more…)

“If you have come to help me you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.”

— Aboriginal activists group, Queensland, 1970s

I read that quote for the first time today — it moves me. I read it here and read about it here.

(I love finding out the history of quotes, don’t you? They can get so muddled and mis-attributed along the way. So it was cool seeing credit go to where it was due on that one.)

Here is something I frequently talk about with people in “real” life, but rarely on the blog: My husband, Steve, is fairly outspoken. (Read this post, too, if you haven’t already.)

That’s getting to be well-known, that he is a political person. People keep asking when he’s running for office and I ask them, “Have you seen our blogs?” I mean, for real. Who would elect either one of us? I am political and vocal, too, of course, just in different ways from Steve. He works through the proper channels, is forthright and has a logical mind; I knit and plot the revolution. What I don’t write about here is how we go about our work. I don’t really blog about our different styles and how they mesh. Or don’t. It is a difficult thing to put into words, but we’ve woven it together pretty well over the past decade plus.

Also, it’s kind of a mystery to me, and I don’t want to mess with it.

I will say that sometimes we clash, mostly we agree. We spend almost all of our free time together, but at the same time completely do our own things. We like our independence, whether it’s expressed in big ways or small. A couple of months ago I planted a little garden at the high school. This turned out to be a tiny and a huge thing, and not just for me. It started because every time I walked by this particular flower bed, I would grimace. Garbage, weeds, NO PLANTS. What is the point of an empty flower bed?

“Please take the space between us/
And fill it up some way/
Take the space between us/
And fill it up some way/”

“O My God”
The Police

More importantly — what is the point of bitching about it (all that garbage! Why doesn’t anyone clean it up? Doesn’t anyone think to plant there?) when you can do something about it?

It took me three hours. I filled it up. (Not really, but it will be after the plants get established and fill it up.)

Daphne, grasses, lavender and rosemary and more lavender. Spiderwort. Some vegetables, which are not perennial, not at all, but I had extra seed packets and wanted to see some vegetables. It’s pretty now. Even the spiderwort, which likes to be babied, is enjoying its independence and thriving. I am working on “letting go and not being a control freak” which you can probably imagine is a huge challenge for me. I’ve decided:

1) if anyone yanks up the plants, I will re-plant. I will not let it get me down.
2) if someone decides that they can put in a better garden than I did, they can have at it.
3) However. If their garden dies from neglect, or if they get bored and abandon it, I will re-plant again.
4) I’ll keep picking up garbage (there are three cans nearby, this is not a big deal) and keep up on the weeding.
5) I’ll try to keep the plantings perennial, native, and in need of little water (once they’re established)
6) no boxwoods, rhodies or camellias, sorry. I love them, but I want something a little different. Maybe a smoke bush? I love these when they bloom.
7) I might plant another bed, too, that’s adjacent to this one (Mom and I planned it out yesterday — we may or may not follow through. Day lilies, lilies of the valley, a smoke bush?, daffodils, iris, something tall, like a tree peony? She has tons of starts, and her friend has a greenhouse with starts to share).

I made friends with a couple of the neighbors, who are helping me water. Did I mention that a water source is a problem? There’s a spigot, but it looks rusted over. No shed for a hose. No little dealie to turn on the spigot. A local gardener/landscape designer stopped by school the other day — she wants to write some grants, do a master plan. I told her go for it.

One of our PTA members and some students she knows went around the whole school, for no particular reason, and did a big clean-up. The alumni association did another clean-up. We have Community Care Day planned for August 23rd. I’m not the only one who is paying attention, is what I’m saying.

Anyway. The custodian? Turns out he likes to garden, too. He’s been helping me water, and he did a bunch of sprucing up to the beds that are near the bed I worked on. Suckers taken down from trees, hedges pruned back, weeds and garbage gone.

“Looks nice around here, doesn’t it?” he asked me yesterday. “People are starting to talk.”

Good.

“I am no more lonely than a single mullein or dandelion in a pasture, or a bean leaf, or sorrel, or a horse-fly, or a bumblebee. I am no more lonely than the Mill Brook, or a weathercock, or the north star, or the south wind, or an April shower, or a January thaw, or the first spider in a new house.”

— Henry David Thoreau, naturalist and author (1817-1862)

Well, well, well. Let’s review this past school year, shall we? (more…)

“At this moment, in this election, we can come together and say: ‘Not this time.’ This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black children, and white children, and Asian children, and Hispanic children and Native American children.

— U.S. Presidential candidate Barack Obama, in Philadelphia, Pa. at Constitution Center, March 18, 2008

My husband started a new blog. Cuz he can.

Just setting the record straight.