(Photo by Steve Rawley)

we have raspberries in the yard that are trying to ripen. i love December in Oregon.

— wm

yesterday, i was grateful cuz we all went to see the Muppets movie (soooo funny) and my sis and her husband, Red-Headed Guy from Texas, went, too. I was going to fix dinner for us, but she said, No, we have to go out for Indian food. So we did! giving me not 1 but 3 things to be grateful for: the Muppets, time w/ family, and Indian food. oh gosh it was good, i’m just saying…

Today? Today i am extra-grateful cuz Steve did the grocery shopping, and now he’s hanging up the Christmas lights. wow. what a dude, huh?

oh yeah also he sent the final (final?) (final!) (cuss plz let this be the final) draft of my book + the bio + the cover to the publishers for the hard copy y’all have been so impatiently waiting for.

so check the website and we will have links up within the next couple weeks.

i promise.

thank you for your support. ps my bookmarks for “That’s Not It” arrived this week, too. If you would like a personalized bookmark, plz leave a note in comments or send me an e and i will mail one to you!! They’re very pretty and shiny.

my husband made this movie — check it out.

— nancy

http://youtu.be/RjXp2e0GqNQ

xo

n

It’s Tuesday, and about time for an update from the Wacky House:

* School has started. The kids are doing great (4th grade and 7th grade this year #wheretheheckdoesthetimego???.

* Steve took some vacation days here and there this summer, and is back to work. He can bike to work now. He’s still bloggin’ away, as you can see, and occasionally arguing with assclowns. (Currie, you really do work my nerves. And don’t think I’ve forgotten how you like to defend pedophiles like “homeless activist” Michael Stoops.) (Hell hath no fury, and memory, like me.)

* Do I have a job yet? No, I do not. I am planning to start working the phrase “as a former sex worker” into conversations, though. For example: “As a former sex worker, I can recommend the non-fat skinny vanilla latte.” That should lively things up.

* Will I be placed in a school this year? Will I remain unpaid and still-gainfully retired, writing away? We’ll see…

* Book is almost ready for publication, I’ll keep you posted. Still working on my Dear Late Granny’s cookbook/memoir. Bogged down a little, what else is new? Seriously. I spent about 400 500 617 hours pinning laundry to the line this summer and watering the garden and yard. Seriously. It rained today and I almost ran out and kissed the muddy ground I was so happy.

* am Oregon girl.

* Mt. Hood fires need to go out. The air quality has been crummy, the sunsets and sunrises look a lot like L.A. and… I like trees. That mountain terrifies me, but I love it. Maybe the rain will help?

* in other family news, the youngest cat, Baby, has let the following be known (via his messenger, the youngest child, Wacky Boy): “He does not want his Chicken Coop to be called that anymore; he wants us to call it his ‘Man Cave.'” (Referring to Baby’s corner retreat in the library, where he keeps his scratching post, blankie, toys and catnip.)

* When my husband woke up our daughter this morning “it’s after 7! wake up!” she responded with this: “Fu…..” Her father’s response: “What was that?” Wacky Girl, fast on her feet, even when she’s sacked out: “I said ‘Ugh.'” Yeah, sure you did.

* This is the same girl who yelled, “Goddammit!” at her father when he got shampoo in her eyes, when she was not-quite-two. Steve: “Nancy, do you have any idea where she got that?” Me: “Nope.” (inside, heart swelling with pride, My girl.) (and really, aren’t you a little surprised that she didn’t yell, Goddammit, Steve!)

* what’s up with you??

— wm

Great dinner on a hot summer night.

You’ve heard of a reading sprint? I don’t see that I’ve ever written about it here. My daughter invented it, and has perfected it. You make a stack of anywhere from 3-7 books, read a chapter or two from each, and rotate, rotate. Pretty soon you’ve read a stack of (1-2-3-4-5-6 or 7) books! It’s especially perfect for those of us who are (or are just feeling) a little ADD. Also good for people who are voracious readers (like my girl) and for kids who are struggling readers. When I’m helping kids learn to read, we pick out anywhere from 2-5 books. Perhaps a short chapter book; something non-fiction — anything about animals is generally a hit; a picture book — with or without words; a harder book; maybe a dictionary. It makes you feel Smart and Important having a big stack of books next to you.

Next thing you know, reading isn’t so scary.

One of my former students was really into the dictionary — I spent most of the school year procuring and distributing dictionaries and thesauri. By the end of the year, every kid who wanted one had one. Epic success. He was one of the kids who had grabbed a spare dictionary early on. I want to learn every word in here, he told me. I told him, Great, start with A.

So he did.

End of the year, we were tallying up success stories, and he raised his hand.

“I read that whole dictionary you gave me!”

“Fantastic! How many pages?” (I knew that he would know.)

“752!” (It was a dictionary for middle grade students — he was in second grade, if I’m remembering correctly? Wait… I may be getting him confused with his older brother, who was in fifth grade. They were both really motivated kids. And their little sister? Following along in her brothers’ footsteps.)

Spectacular. Moments like that make you know you’re in the right line of work.

Speaking of… yeah. I’ve been home for about six months now, and every six months I need to re-invent myself. Again. So I’m interviewing again for library jobs. (i miss the kids.) Fingers crossed. it-is-what-it-is.

That string of books pictured above? That’s everything I’m reading right now.

* Celebrity Detox I just finished — really moving work by Ms. O’Donnell. Brave woman, writing it, and kudos for putting it out there the way she does. Not everyone in this world is that brave.

* Me & Anna Karenina. I started reading this book in college. Was almost to the end, my then-boyfriend and I were spending winter break with his parents at their stupid Rustic Cabin in Woods, and his mom sez, Oh, in the end when, y’know…!!! blah blah. (I realize that everyone and his great-aunt Smoochy knows the ending to Anna Karenina, but believe it or not, until that moment in Stupid Rustic Cabin with people who thank God did not become my in-laws, I didn’t.) My response: “Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!” Her response, all sweetness and big cow eyes: “Didn’t you watch the PBS mini-series?” Me: “No, I generally read the book first.”

Since that time, lo these 20-plus years ago, I have been trying to finish Anna Karenina. This translation (can’t find the image, but it was done by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky) is stellar. The footnotes are great, the translation is quite good. Not that I’ve read it in the original Russian (ha) but you can tell that they retain the flavor and style of the original work. How? How can I tell this? I have no idea. But it’s good, and I’m enjoying it. And trying to forgive the witch who (nearly) ruined the book for me.

* Anne Lamott… Anne Lamott… I have been mean to her in the past, but “Grace (Eventually) Thoughts on Faith” has changed my mind about her. It’s funny and sharp and she really opens up and doesn’t mess around. I appreciate that.

* Walter Deans Myers’s bio, “Bad Boy” is good. Everything the man does is good, so I think it’s sweet he calls his memoir “Bad Boy.” Incredible man — go give him a read if you haven’t already. My students love him, too.

* Another one they love is Sharon Draper (Sharon Draper for the girls, Walter Dean Myers for the guys), and after starting “Romiette & Julio” I can see why. I never had the chance to borrow any of her books from my old libraries, because they were always checked out! So props to her. Oh, I did read “Fire from the Rock” when it came out and loved it. The girls also love Sharon Flake, so check her out, too.

* “The Graveyard Book” is freaking me out. This one is not for the little-littles. Sixth grade and older, I would say. Neil Gaiman (“Coraline”) has a dark and twisted gift.

* Jordan Sonnenblick is another new-to-me author. So far, so good on “Zen and the Art of Faking It.”

Sad thing for my kids, having a book-junkie mother. Because whatever I read has got to be uncool. And all of these books are pretty cool. I’m ready to start covering everything in brown kraft paper.

In other news: It’s finally summer in Oregon, woot. Got to 95 yesterday. This morning Steve and I woke up early, then walked in the nature preserve by our house and picked blackberries. We saw a covey of quail at the pond up the street. It was so cool. I baked a berry crisp and pinned out the laundry; he watered the garden and I watered the front yard. It will be thirteen years of marriage for us in a couple of weeks. It’s good. It’s a good life.

I’m going to remember this day, the simplicity of it, the happiness of it, forever.

Love you, Steve.

xo

me

“He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.” — Clarence Budington Kelland

Subject: A Hockey Story

Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final, and a man makes his way to his seat right at center ice. He sits down, noticing that the seat next to him is empty.

He leans over and asks his neighbour if someone will be sitting there.

“No,” says the neighbour. “The seat is empty.”

“This is incredible,” said the man. “Who in their right mind would have a seat like this for final game of the Stanley Cup playoffs and not use it?”

The neighbour says, “Well, actually, the seat belongs to me. I was supposed to come with my wife, but she passed away. This is the first Stanley Cup we haven’t been to together since we got married in 1967.”

“Oh … I’m sorry to hear that. That’s terrible. But couldn’t you find someone else, a friend or relative, or even a neighbour to take the seat?”

The man shakes his head “No. They’re all at her funeral.”

This fractures me.

isn’t that great news? yeah.

did i mention, that in addition to bronchitis, the worst allergies I’ve ever had in my life, a growing sense of “can we please be done with this now please, already?” about my novel (man am i sick of looking for typos, continuity blah blah and misc. plot debris)…

where was I going with this? yes. I had some tumor/growth/alien life force removed from my leg.

that’s why you stop by, right? for the gnarly health news? this wasn’t even gnarly, as these things go. This very beautiful girl doctor and her sweet and also beautiful assistant shoved me backwards on the table, shot up my leg with local anesthetic, and then I don’t even want to know what they did next. But it’s a week later and it’s still sore. Not bad sore — it’s healing up and all, but damn. You just never know what they’re going to do to you, once you step into that strange vortex known as The Doctor’s.

This is me at the doctor’s office. (Thank you, Tom Petty, for the visuals.)

it was just something I didn’t want to deal with and I finally did, yay me. Then I cried because it hurt and the doctor said, If it is malignant, we would need to… and then we’d… and general anesthetic and you’re strong and healthy and would do just fine with that, yes?

my response to that was: “No.” (See? See? Proof on my own blog.)

seriously, Internets. Unlike the rest of my deranged, high-strung extended family, I have extremely low blood pressure. I mean, it’s 90/60 on a good day. When I get sick/stressed/have just had surgery/am losing blood/haven’t had enough milkshakes or sweet potato pie/you name it, it dips to like, 70/47. Then the buzzers and bells start going off, whoop-whoop-aoooooooga! and they all get really excited and things get lively and I think, I am so glad I’m lying down for all this.

Then Steve says, “Even when it’s normal, it’s like, 90/60. She’s a freak, she’s fine.” And then they all simmer down. I can say the same thing, but they don’t listen to Almost-Dead Girl. But they will listen to Steve. Whatever.

Also my lungs have a hard time remembering to breathe. They just… don’t cooperate sometimes.

So I would prefer to never go under general anesthetic for the rest of my life. Also? Veins are collapsing due to Having Too Much Blood Taken for Thyroid Issues and Whatever Else the Vampires Wanted It For.

Hmm.

GOOD NEWS. I called for the test results and the very nice man gave me my favorite letter and my favorite number: B9. Benign!!! Get it? Which is just great, because you know what my favorite movie was when I was a young girl? Sunshine. You know what my favorite book was? (Next to “Wifey,” “Princess Daisy” and any other good smutty trash I could find)… that’s right. Norma Klein’s “Sunshine.” What happens in that book? That’s right. A beautiful teenage mom finds out she has Leg Cancer and her only options are 1) have it cut off or 2) have it cut off or 3) take meds and puke her guts out and then die, anyway.

When you are a teenage girl, this is the sort of book you want to re-read 200 times. So I did. Oh, and “Go Ask Alice.” Yes. So I think this has sort of been a lifelong fear, perhaps. That I will get leg cancer and have to choose between puking/then dying or having my leg amputated. I would choose… neither. I just wouldn’t go to the doctor, that’s how I would solve that one. But I did go to the doc, and all is well. And I’m done with antibiotics for bronchitis and seem to be on the mend. Good! Right on!

Beautiful, happy Friday to you.

— wm

ps in unrelated news, I just filed my first book review for my girls at BlogHer. It’s on “Getting to Happy,” Terry McMillan’s sequel to “Waiting to Exhale.” The review will run sometime this month — I’ll link when it does. (Link!) Will you go check out their site, pretty please? Good stuff on there, and lots of interesting women writing about things that won’t make you wince like I do. Ta-ta for now!

Steve (hearts) Beyonce.