Chapter 491 Halloween Festivities

We had a fun and happy Halloween here, and we have the candy to prove it! Here are a few snapshots of our spookily spectacular Halloween weekend:

Tom decided to be Burger King this year. I have no idea why. Junior high school (6th grade) brings about strange new behavior and strange choices in Halloween costumes:

But I still have a couple of cute hot dogs, willing to dress up as almost any silly thing. Here’s Huck and our dog, Molly. Could the dog look more humiliated to be dressed as a hot dog?

Here are the boys with some of the neighbors on our front porch. They’re about to leave to go trick or treating with their dads. I stayed home to hand out candy:

Tom and Huck built a scary cemetery scene on our front lawn this year:

Our neighbor, the one who had the idea to build a hoverboard earlier this year, built this great jack-in-the-box. He figured out how to hook it up to an air compressor so that when trick-or-treaters walked by, Jack jumped up and out of the box, giving them a bit of a Halloween scare. He’s 12 and a great builder of all things mechanical:

A neighbor a few blocks away builds a different haunted house every year. This year, he built “The Tomb”. Very scary!

Now it’s back to work, but with the added bonus of some Halloween treats in the bowl beside me! Hope you had a happy Halloween!

Chapter 466 James Bond’s Reading List

Huck wanted to do a walking tour of Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco for his birthday celebration this past weekend. I tried to explain to him that we natives do not go places like Fisherman’s Wharf unless we have out of town visitors, but he was having none of it. So, Thoughtful Husband and I packed up Tom and Huck and a few of their buddies and drove them to Fisherman’s Wharf.

Here’s a photo of stop #1 on our tour, The International Spy Shop:

Once I got past all of the swords, knives, bug detectors, doorknob alarms, and microscopic hidden cameras, I sauntered over to the book section. Here are the most interesting titles I found, titles that I imagine might be on James Bond’s reading list:

How to Open Handcuffs Without Keys

The Poor Man’s Ray Gun (Deadly Rays)

Secrets from the Ninja Grandmaster

See you in the stacks!

Chapter 465 Who Knew?

You already know of my penchant for making themed cakes for Tom and Huck’s birthday celebrations. And I always make this cake for dessert on the first day of school:

Today, I made a new discovery. Fig Newtons, the delicious after-school snack, can also be used as books in cake decorating:

Who knew?

I’m off to back-to-school night so a Fig Newton decorated as a book seems oddly appropriate.

Bon Appetit!

Chapter 462 Summertime Stunts

I have to post a couple of pictures from our recent family vacation, in the Lake Tahoe area of California.

First, here’s Tom at a skate park. He is doing skateboard tricks that make me cringe. It’s hard to tell from the photo, but he is actually quite high above the ground. The photo quality isn’t great because I was wincing when I took the picture.

Not to be outdone by his older brother, Huck decided to jump off rocks at Angora Lake. Here he is flying through the air, getting ready to do a great big cannonball into the water. Again, the photo quality isn’t great because I cannot watch my kids do these stunts without worrying. My hands were shaking.

They went back to school today and said it was actually quite exciting.

That means that now I can start to get back to work.

See you in the stacks!

Chapter 461 A New Year

Tom and Huck start school Monday. I can’t believe how time has flown: Tom is in 6th grade this year and Huck is in 3rd. When I started this blog, they were in 4th and 1st grades. I cannot believe how fast the time has flown.

They walk out the door this morning with those typical end-of-summer ambivalent feelings of anticipation and excitement. They love their new school shoes and freshly sharpened pencils and blank notebooks, and they look forward to seeing their friends. Both seem happy about the teachers to whom they’ve been assigned this year, too. But both boys are less than excited about returning to regular homework and the rigid daily school schedule that means early mornings and earlier bedtimes for both of them.

Like them, I’m ambivalent. I’ve enjoyed summer with its lazy mornings, fun day-trips, and friendly visits. But I also welcome the return to routine that the school year brings. Because I was a student and then a teacher and now a parent of students, my life has revolved around the academic school year calendar for almost as long as I can remember. The beginning of a new school year is more of a new year for me than the one that begins on January 1. As such, it’s a time to review past actions and to set (or revisit) some goals. I’ll write about that tomorrow, but first it’s time to sit back and reflect with a little help from this:

The mug is a souvenir from Rare Book School. It says “Hail and Farewell”, which commemorates Terry Belanger’s retirement as Founding Director of Rare Book School (don’t worry; he’ll still be teaching) and the entrance of Michael Suarez, S.J. as the next Director. The tea, Imperial Earl Grey, is a particular favorite of mine, and I love the beautiful tin. The coaster upon which my Rare Book School mug will sit is a souvenir from a visit to Monticello, home of Thomas Jefferson. Both the mug and the coaster are reminders of my excellent trip to Virginia this summer and of the obligation to use my education well. The tea is a reminder to take a little break in the morning before getting down to work now that the kids are off to school.

Hope the end of your summer is enjoyable.

See you in the stacks!

Chapter 460 Around this Time Last Year

I’d like to end this week of re-posts with a reminder to myself about where I was around this time last year. Tom and Huck start a new school year on Monday, and having been a teacher myself, I always see the end of summer as the start of a new year, a time for review and for making new plans. Last year, for our _0th birthdays, Thoughtful Husband and I decided we’d take the family on an RV trip across flyover country. You can read about the reasons why here. We had a great trip, and one of our favorite stops was the Laura Ingalls Wilder Homestead in DeSmet, South Dakota.

“We don’t want to go to the Laura Ingalls house,” Tom and Huck whined in the RV. “Those books are girl books, and we’re boys. There’s nothing good there.”

That is a fairly representative example of the logic of 7 and 10 year old boys. They have not read even one of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books. They have little awareness of who she was. But they knew they did not want to spend three days of our vacation re-tracing the steps of “some old-fashioned girl’s life” at the Laura Ingalls Wilder Homestead.

Using the logic of a mother, I ignored them and popped in a book-on-tape (CD) recording of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s By The Shores of Silver Lake, the book that chronicles Wilder’s initial arrival at our eventual destination, DeSmet, South Dakota. I turned up the volume high enough so that I couldn’t hear the protest coming from the boys in the back seat. After a while, the whining stopped. The boys were in shock. This book described rides on fast ponies, rough men building railroads, howling blizzards, and wolves. Maybe it wasn’t so girlish after all.

“Mom,” said Tom, after listening to the story for a while, “Laura Ingalls was a tomboy. Tomboys are the only kind of girls I like. Her story is pretty good.”

That’s progress, I guess.

One of my favorite stops on our recent RV trip was the Laura Ingalls Wilder Homestead in DeSmet, South Dakota. The 150 acre homestead has been restored with 10 acres of crops and buildings that match the dimensions of the ones Laura’s family built in the 1880s. It also has additional buildings from the nineteenth century — a sod house similar to the one the Ingalls lived in in On the Banks of Plum Creek, a railroad shanty, and a one-room school house. It is surrounded by mile upon mile of prairie grass. Hardly a tree to be seen anywhere.

The Ingalls Homestead is a wonderful place for children, even those like mine, who aren’t familiar with Wilder’s books. Children are allowed to touch everything, even farm animals and old farm tools. Each building, whether house or barn or school, has an employee dressed in costume from the late nineteenth century to explain how settlers like the Ingalls family lived, learned, worked, and ate over one hundred years ago.

Tom and Huck got to use the farm’s nineteenth century machinery to make rope and pull the kernels off corn for animal feed.

Getting kernels off the corn

Making rope

They rode ponies and got to drive a team of horses pulling a wagon out to the one-room school house (with supervision). They had a lesson from the teacher in the one-room schoolhouse, a woman who attended and taught in a one-room schoolhouse herself. At the end of the day, they helped milk a cow and feed the chickens. They got to watch birds building a nest and observe a cat and her brand new litter of kittens. Sad to say we have never done any of the above in our suburban California town.

Pony ride

Huck drives the team of horses, Sam and David, as they pull a covered wagon to the schoolhouse

Tom described these kittens as “smaller than pickles”. They were tiny.

We camped at the Laura Ingalls Wilder Homestead in a covered wagon for two nights, so we could see how a family fit in a covered wagon. (Answer: squeezed in close together.) We also built a campfire, roasted marshmallows, and watched fireflies (the first I’ve ever seen) twinkle in the prairie twilight. We were almost the only family there that night (just one other covered wagon had people inside), and we felt the vastness of the prairie and the peacefulness of solitude. I’ve never seen more stars in the sky. I heard the prairie wind stirring the grass and the sounds of cattle in the distance, much as I imagined Laura Ingalls Wilder may have over a century ago.

Our wagon:

Interior of the covered wagon

When our campfire had burned its last embers and we prepared to sleep in our covered wagon, Huck, snuggled on my lap, whispered to me, “Mom, this is my dream house.”

Mine, too.

Prairie twilight

Chapter 453 Mark Twain Would Be Proud — Tom and Huck

In case you’ve only recently stumbled upon this blog, I should introduce a few other people who figure prominently in my life. First, I should introduce my husband, who prefers on this blog to go by his nickname, Thoughtful Husband (he really is thoughful — I’m a lucky girl). Long-time readers know we have two sons. I refer to them as Tom and Huck on the blog. As of this re-posting, Tom is now 11 years old and Huck will turn 9 in a few short weeks. They continue to amaze me with their creativity, their sense of fun, and their hijinx with our triplet neighbors. Tom and Huck have so many mischievous adventures, I think Mark Twain would be proud that I’ve nicknamed them after two of his best-known characters. Here’s what they were up to when I started my business a little over two years ago.

Tom and Huck

I’ve mentioned before that I have two children, both boys, ages 9 and 7. For privacy purposes, when I’m blogging, I’ll call the older son Tom and the younger one Huck, after two other literary imps. They are good boys, but have a penchant for getting into what I think of as boyish mischief:

You might imagine that as I am a former English teacher and now a bookseller, my children must love books and reading. Ashamedly, I admit that nothing could be further from the truth. I am so envious of another bookseller’s darling photo of his young son comfortably ensconced in a tree reading Heinlein. Tom reads books, but only for homework or only if there is nothing else to do. Huck just started first grade two weeks ago, and can read books, but still struggles to read them independently. Despite frequent library visits, neither boy has yet found the book that creates the spark that becomes love of reading. We live in a part of the United States where the climate is sunny and mild, even in the winter, and the outdoors is the focus for the boys just about every waking moment. They spent most of their summer days not holed up in a corner reading, but instead doing things that scare their mother, like this:

and this:

and this:

They like to build their own games like this one, called “Wagon Train”, and play in the middle of the street with the neighbors every day (don’t worry — it’s a cul-de-sac and has little car traffic). Notice the shoeless, helmetless glee on their little faces as they realize that when the “puller” in the front stops, their wagons will all crash into each other and spill them on the cement:

They like to explore new things and reach new heights:

For reasons unknown to me, they find such pursuits much more adventurous than sitting indoors reading. Now, I am about as girly a girl as they come. I love being a mom, baking, clean clothes, nice hair, and even clean fingernails. I much prefer indoors to out and find few pleasures greater than sticking my nose in a book whenever the opportunity presents itself. I sometimes think that my particular boys were born to me so I would get my nose out of my books and experience life. Still, I worry sometimes about my boys and their limited reading. They are certainly at the levels they should be, academically, but why don’t they have the passion for books that I do? Most importantly, will they ever have that passion? I’d hate to see them miss out on something that brings me so much pleasure and could do the same for them. However, perhaps they could say the same thing about me and their game, “Wagon Train”, which they’d like me to try, but which I’ve no desire to actually play.

However, as a former high school English teacher, I can say that those teenagers I knew who hated reading the most were the ones forced to read for a set amount of time every day at a very young age because their parents thought they should. This reading-because-you-should idea can, if not judiciously applied, take the joy of discovery out of reading. I try to remember that, if I keep books around (and in our house they are all around), eventually Tom and Huck will find the book that sparks the joy of reading. I am trying to remember to introduce books to, rather than to inflict books upon my kids. For me, the magic book that started the onslaught of reading that has yet to abate was in fifth grade. I was ten and read every copy of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House on the Prairie series in a month. I even begged my parents to move from California to De Smet, South Dakota, where the real Laura grew up. Fortunately, I quickly discovered that I enjoyed reading about the hardships of pioneer life more than actually living them.

What book was it for you?

Chapter 443 Let’s See if I Can Do This Without Interruption, Or, Why I May Move My Office to an “Undisclosed Location”

Shhh!

Don’t tell anyone.

I’m sitting down to write a blog post and I want to see if I can complete it without interruption by pets, children, car accidents up the street, ringing telephones, and various and sundry other things.

Summer has been busy and full of all sorts of interruptions which have precluded my having any sort of regular work schedule. Why this surprises me, I don’t know. Aside from the usual activities of family and home, I’ve been researching and writing a detailed description on the best and most interesting book I’ve ever bought or sold in my (admittedly very brief) career as a bookseller. (More about this later.) I’ve also been reading and taking notes on books like Bamber Gascoigne’s How to Identify Prints in preparation for my upcoming trip to University of Virginia for Rare Book School. I’ve been cataloguing new acquisitions for September and October’s book fairs, and I’ve been putting the finishing touches on a certain catalogue that I started (gulp!) nearly two years ago. At home, we have five birthdays to celebrate in the month of July in our family this year and I am helping to give one baby shower right after I return from Virginia. Combine this with grocery shopping, laundry, and trying to squeeze in some fun activities with Tom and Huck while they are off school, and you will see why I have had so little time for blogging lately. At least all of these various events and activities are fun, but I do wish I had more time to blog with a bit more attention to detail.

I’ve considered moving my office from my dining room to an “undisclosed location” so I could get some work done, but my life would be so much less exciting.

At last, here is my summer reading list. Aside from Gascoigne’s How to Identify Prints, I’m reading very lightweight, very fun books this year. The list below is only a list — it’s doesn’t mean that I will actually complete said list by the end of summer. In fact, it’s quite possible that with all of the other excitement around here that summer’s reading list will become autumn’s. In any case, I’m trying to read at least a little bit each night, and, left to my own devices, would read some books straight through if I could.

First, from my favorite British publisher of forgotten books by female authors, Persephone Books:

The Making of a Marchioness, by Frances Hodgson Burnett
Family Roundabout, by Richmal Crompton
The Home-Maker, by Dorothy Canfield Fisher (it’s been on my list since spring, lol!)

Next, a book recommended to me by a reader of this blog because of my newfound love for female British novelists:
Excellent Women, by Barbara Pym

Next, a book I recently finished reading:
Winston’s War: A Novel of Conspiracy, by Michael Dobbs (interesting fictional take on the ascendancy of Prime Minister Winston Churchill during World War II. Plenty of real-life characters involved.)

Next, a book recommended to me by one of my brothers, with his cautionary email message that reads, “OK, I just read a book that I normally would never recommend to you given it is an action-thriller type book and I don’t think that is your style. [ed. note -- which begs the question, what does he think is my style?] However, this book involves lots of Thomas Jefferson references and there is even an antiquarian book conference and a 1st edition Don Quixote! Book is a decent read, but it is no classic.” The book is:

The Last Patriot, by Brad Thor. Will I think it is a worthwhile read? Who knows? It sounds like one of those novels people buy in airports. Maybe I’ll read it on the flight to Virginia?

Finally, to satisfy the Laura Ingalls Wilder pioneer girl in me, I am planning to read:

The Backyard Homestead, by Carleen Madigan. The Backyard Homestead tells those of us with small suburban lots how to eat from our backyard garden year-round with fresh vegetables and homemade preserves, make omelets from eggs laid by your own chickens, and pick fruits and berries from your back door. Will I actually do any of these things? Given my current schedule, probably not, but a girl can dream!

That’s all for now.

See you in the stacks!

Chapter 439 Summer Reading

This Robert Louis Stevenson poem came to mind today while I was watching Tom and Huck play outside on a sunny summer day. Hope you like it, too.

As from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees,
So you may see, if you will look
Through the windows of this book,
Another child, far, far away,
And in another garden, play.
But do not think you can at all,
By knocking on the window, call
That child to hear you. He intent
Is all on his play-business bent.
He does not hear, he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book.
For, long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.

Robert Louis Stevenson

More on my summer reading plans tomorrow!

Chapter 435 And This Summer . . .

I posted about last summer’s cross-country adventure yesterday. I realize I haven’t posted much about my two favorite characters, Tom and Huck, recently. Today, I’ll show you what we’ve been up to this summer:

Visiting with old friends:

Thoughtful Husband is on the left. My neighbor, who introduced me to TH when we were 16, is next to TH. The man next to me attended nursery school and elementary school with me and then high school with TH. We’ve been friends for a long time. Now our kids are friends, too. We look a little grubby in this photo not just because we’re getting older, but because we were camping when we took the photo.

What else have I been doing this summer? Nurturing a small vegetable garden:

But what about those two mischief-makers, Tom and Huck? What are they doing?

Huck (age eight) went to football camp. (Not to worry; it’s non-tackle for his age group).

Huck loved being at football camp, which was every afternoon for one week. He is more determined than ever to play tackle football. (!) That’s him in the red shirt, looking every bit the serious competitor.

Meanwhile, Tom is home practicing his skateboard tricks while Huck mugs for the camera:

And if defying gravity on a skateboard isn’t enough, Tom (age 11) was invited to a surf lesson/birthday party recently. Here he is in his wetsuit, getting ready to get in the Pacific Ocean. (!)

I was a little worried about riptides and sharks (hey, that’s what us mothers are for — to worry about all that might go wrong and try to prevent it from happening to our kids. It’s a neverending task. Of course, it’s also our job to step out of the way after reasonable preparation and precaution.)

Tom did great, and I was happy to see a number of other mothers and fathers at the beach that day. Here he is standing on his surfboard. I had to restrain myself from shouting, “Are you being careful?” from the beach. He was with an instructor, though, so I thought I’d let the instructor handle everything while I watched from the dry, warm comfort of the sand.

We’re off to a good start and enjoying our summer. I hope you are as well.

See you in the stacks!