Estuaries and beaches

Catching up on photos from early January: The last few days that the older boys were here were warm and sunny, so we spent a lot of time on the beach - they love to surf - and, while my parents were here, visited the Tijuana River Estuary preserve. My dad enjoys observing birds, and this was a prime location - a quiet, clear, diverse ecosystem. 

These are the kind of days that make Southern California popular

Baby surfs

Beach bonfire

Brothers enjoying a peaceful - or not - evening on the beach.

The estuary

Young birder

Rodent remains

Lots of life in that brackish water.  I think this photo is supposed to have birds in it. We saw many coots, herons, egrets, and small birds from the sparrow and finch families, in addition to the sea birds in flight overheard - terns or seagulls.

Yucca blooming

Ferry ride

Not enough zoom to observe the sea lions on the buoy

The USS Midway

Exploring another inland park

Rock climbing

More wave riding

Now it is chilly and rainy, so these warm days of early January seem months ago. 

A couple of hours in Mexico

Christmas vacation ended two weeks ago for my school aged children and last weekend for my college kids.  They went back to school last week, and now we are back to being a small family of seven again.  I miss the big kids. They were good company.  It is wonderful to have almost grown-up children, although they continue to give me cause to worry about their safety, their habits, their futures.

As I was downloading holiday photos from the camera, I realized our external hard drive wasn't working. I had a computer guy try to restore the hard drive to the tune of $50, but it will cost 10 to 40 times that to recover the data.  I think I have enough copies of photos stored on the internet to forego that expense at this time. Good-bye also to a lot of my teaching notes that were in disarray also. Those can be recreated again, if ever needed.

But get ready for more photos on this blog...

Just before the boys went back to school, we visited Tijuana, Mexico. Since we are just 20 minutes from the border and our passports expire in a few months, we decided to make a quick jaunt.  There is a pedestrian bridge available to walk from San Ysidro, CA, to Tijuana, Mexico.  This allows you to visit without obtaining Mexican car insurance.

I had done a little research online about visiting, but not enough. Neither had the two boys. We blindly walked into a foreign country, assuming that we'd be able to figure our way around, but even right at the beginning of our journey we were turned around by an armed security guard. (We tried to go in the out tunnel.)

We were not prepared for the poverty we encountered on the other side, even though we had been warned that it is "dangerous" to visit. In fact, active duty service members have to obtain permission from their superiors in order to cross the border. I thought that the Tijuana side would be similar to San Ysidro, which is no model of affluence.  We thought we might walk the mile from the border to downtown, but quickly realized that it wasn't safe to wander. We instead jumped into one of the cabs lined up for other pedestrians to take us downtown.  The cab had no seatbelts, and the driver apparently thought road signs and the lines on the street were suggestions.  I again wished I had spent some time in a Spanish class - and had made my boys practice their language skills more.

Downtown was only a slight bit less intimidating to navigate. I'm not sure why we didn't think to consult a map before leaving.  Or to figure out the exchange rate.  I assumed I could use a credit card for lunch, but quickly realized we'd need cash, so my son exchanged a $20, which got us through lunch and bought some sweets, a little pottery salsa dish, and an ornament of the Sacred Heart with a 100 pesos note left over. I contemplated buying a baby Jesus with eyelashes and babydoll eyes, but the boys thought they were scary.  I also could have spent more time at the gaudy religious shops outside the church, but none of us felt like lingering long.

Our two tourist stops were at a small historical museum, which primarily featured pictures and the history of one individual who helped found Tijuana. I can't remember his name. It was free, but we were the only people there.  We strolled through a market where we bought the sweets, and then we visited the Church of Our Lady of Guadalupe. We did not stop for a massage being offered on the front step. Nor, to my regret, did we stay for the noon Mass which was starting in 15 minutes, primarily because we were all a little anxious about getting back home before the kids got out of school. (I had left the baby with the high schoolers who had the day off for a teacher grading day after finals.)

Instead, after a quick prayer, we found a little taqueria for lunch, where we all had horchata. I had a big tortas, one son had a big multi-layer quesadilla con carne, and the other had 3 tacos. Additionally, he bought two tacos for a guy who told us his story about being deported. He did have good English, but I was worried that he would not move on. All of that food was less than $8 dollars.  And although the meat was greasy, the food was flavorful and filling.

We had no trouble catching another cab and getting through customs on the way home, although I had heard that re-entry could take some time. There was a long line of people lined up at the guard's shack to cross over the bridge, but they were being detained by more security with guns. Later, I read that a lot of Haitians have been trying to cross into America via this border, and I wondered if this group might have been a group of refugees from Haiti.

The money I could have spent on data recovery services would buy many much needed meals for across the border.

The pedestrian gateway

Brothers in Tijuana

Our Lady of Guadalupe in Tijuana

Roaming the streets

Lunch

Creative transport on this side of the border.

Rambling about this and that, including politics, unfortunately.

Late January seems the appropriate time to spend a few days mooning around about the state of the world and everyone in it.

Southern California has been having "winter storms."  This means rain, a little wind, some flash flooding in areas. And it's "cold:" below 60.  When the weather reporters use this kind of language, I want to stay home, huddled under blankets with a cup of tea and read, even though our friends in cooler climates wouldn't call this bad weather.  The human body wants to hibernate this time of year, I think.

In my head I know that a good part of wanting to curl up and retreat is PPD - post party depression. Christmas vacation is over, the big kids are back at school, my class has started again.  We had a lot of company and events over the last month, and now I have to get back to the routine, but instead I'm happy to let the dishes and laundry pile up, leave the broom in a corner, and eat and read sugary things.

And then get depressed by politics.

On the bright side, I spent most of Tuesday with the toddler, first at a playgroup, then at library story time, and then at the park - this was before it started raining. I sat on a bench and was able to get absorbed into Angry Housewives Eating Bonbons while she played with a few toddlers.  Tuesday is the day that the classical home school co-op has lunch and plays at the park after their meeting. I know this because I went to their information meeting last spring.  So, I admit, I was also surreptitiously spying wistfully on them as the moms ate their lunches amid animated conversations, and the kids burnt off their energy on the playground.  Should I go back to home schooling the fifth grader, who does not like her parochial school? I know I've fretted about this before in this space, but forgive the repetitiveness of my worries. Will she be ok at the public middle school next year with her brother when she still plays with baby dolls and makes RVs out of cardboard boxes? Her best friend who goes to the public school does, too, so I know I am wrong in attributing more maturity to the middle schoolers than they actually have - certainly my own son last year had a great year, but middle school boys are still pretty immature for the most part.

Honestly, the reason I am thinking about home schooling again is because I miss the lifestyle of sitting at the park and lunching with other moms.  I miss the days spent reading stories on the couch. What I don't miss is the daily nag to do math.  My college kids are urging me to home school the baby, so she'll always like reading, but they don't realize that home schooling does not necessarily make someone into a voracious reader.

At any rate, the novel I indulged in I have actually read before - how could I forget? It is a familiar plot: a group of housewives on the same cul-de-sac all realize they are lonely, so they form a book club and become best friends. Each of them is a stereotype: the athletic activist, the sexy believer, the mousy one whose husband is abusive, the homey, motherly widow, the seemingly perfect housewife with a dark secret in her past.  It's sentimental and sappy, but just the sort of mind candy I am in the mood to sink into. I read it at the park, on the exercise bike in the family room at the gym, since it has been raining, and late into the night in the bathroom.  Even though I've read it before, and normally would be halfway embarrassed to say I liked this sort of book, I gobbled it up, and it was soothing.  I want to be in that darn book club, too.  They read some pretty good books. Why haven't I read any William Styron lately? And one of them names her daughter Flannery.

In between hanging out at all the toddler hot spots and hiding so I can read, I have indulged in reading about politics and watching the news. I don't usually watch the news, but Friday morning I had an hour between taking the kids to school and an all school Mass. I hadn't thought about the inauguration, to be honest, but since I was driving them to school because of the rain, I heard about it on the radio and so turned on the TV when I got home.

If there is any reason to watch TV, watching an historical pageant is a good one. The procession of dignitaries at the beginning and the early speeches reminded me of what was good about America.  I admire the Obamas, even if I don't agree with some of their political positions.  Michelle Obama has been an advocate for military spouse support - making it easier for military spouses to keep their jobs or find new jobs in DOD careers and by encouraging job preparation and home business training programs for spouses and honoring a "Military Spouse of the Year."  I admire their dedication to keeping their kids in the same school and protecting them from media attention. I liked President Obama's farewell speech.  They seem like good role models for a "first family." As I told the kids several times yesterday, you can admire a person - even love that person - even if you disagree about politics.  Some people have admirable personal qualities even when they make different assumptions about what is best for human society. And some people you might agree with politically, but don't want to be associated with them personally.

It has been difficult to feel charitable during this political season. I would like to say I agree with Trump's political positions, but I don't agree with half of what he says (we don't need a wall, despite Robert Frost's poetry!), and the other half - for example, his claim to be pro-life - I don't believe he means. His speech was such a disappointment after the high-minded comments about the peaceful transfer of power, and the strength of devotion to our political project exemplified in the letter from the Union soldier, Sullivan Ballou, read by Senator Charles Schumer. Even the song about being the stranger, "Now We Belong" - a statement. surely - sung by the Missouri State Chorale was beautiful and stirring.  The witness presented by the past presidents, Carter, Clinton, and Bush, talking with smiles on their faces, even if they didn't feel like smiling, was encouraging. So was the warm greeting to those past presidents from the Obamas.  It was all so patriotic.

Then Trump's speech ruined it.  It sounded like another campaign stump speech. He's already won! Move on!  Using words like "carnage," suggesting that kids in public schools have no knowledge, coloring the past in dark terms, evoking an American exceptionalism in the future, all of this did nothing to create unity or heal wounds or extend a hand of mercy and compromise - needed in order for any of his political ideas to gain acceptance.  All it did was inflame enemies who have already begun campaigning for his replacement.

Listening to this speech makes it evident why so many people were excited about the Women's March. It's a great way to stand up against the many ugly things Trump has said.  If any other woman besides Hillary Clinton had run against Trump, she probably would have won.  But why, if people are protesting against ugly, hurtful language and exclusive politics, are they engaging in the exact same tactics?  To fight fire with fire?  I can't stand seeing so many F words flung about on social media,- or the labeling and hatefulness towards people with different political views - despite the example of past presidents, even the words that Obama said about his daughters and resiliency at his last press conference. The exclusion of pro-life groups - even if what those groups are trying to do is not change legislation, but to create more options for women and to support them and the babies they might want to have but can't afford - defies the claim to promote "unity."  And the hats - I know they are supposed to "reclaim" pride and dignity, but isn't there a better way than by fighting vulgarity with vulgarity?

It's just all so ugly.  Both sides. More than the rain, it makes me want to curl up under blankets and read novels about people who get along, or can at least be civil to others.

But to be honest, I had to fight the urge to retort with something catty about catty posts on facebook - is cattiness a double entendre for the hats? Even this little whining post just adds to the discord.  I have been trying to prevent myself from logging into social media just so I don't get drawn in, but each day I find myself taking a little peek -  I just want to see photos of my friend's sweet newborn baby! Or send a birthday message to my niece! Ahh, but then I find myself struggling with the desire to break my own rule of "positive neutrality" on the net.

So here I am purging my desire to write something provocative or polemical online; at least here, it won't been seen by many.

A women's march took place in our city yesterday. So did a pro-life march, which had been scheduled on this weekend for years and years.  It was not a protest march, and it was located on the opposite side of the highway from the women's march. I had said something to the kids about going a couple weeks ago, but I lost courage when I learned about the women's march. I didn't want to see profane signs or angry faces.  I didn't want them to see it.  I thought the rain would be a good excuse to back out of going.

But then yesterday morning, the kids brought up the pro-life march.  It wasn't raining. The sun was out again. I struggled internally a little bit, but then decided to drive into town and check it out. "If we can't find parking, we won't stay," I said. We found parking. We walked around the block with other pro-lifers, young and old, different races, men and women.  It was a pretty subdued bunch, praying the rosary or singing or just talking. We only saw one couple we knew from church, but they were thrilled to see the kids out. It was a congenial crowd.

And on the way home, we saw people walking the other direction with signs of womens' faces, pink hats, walking in pairs or small groups. I didn't see any signs with the F word, only one with a pig. These walkers seemed happy to be out in the sunshine, too. The kids and I had a good conversation about how many different ideas people can have about politics and economics, about how to run a country, but what is nonnegotiable is treating others with charity.

Being neutral may be unnatural for human beings - we naturally want to band together, to share ideas and to feel supported and to oppose what is unjust.  And it is unnatural to be civil, and harder to be charitable, toward enemies. That is a supernatural attitude.  And so we beg again for grace and forgiveness.

On Silence, the movie

It has been several years since I read Shusako Endo's book, but I was very excited to see Martin Scorsese's film adaptation of Silence.  Last night we coughed up the money to go to a real theater instead of waiting for the DVD, like usual. (I don't think the movie will come to the base theater, where the kids see a lot of movies for free. I usually stay at home with the baby during these outings.)

According to my albeit faulty memory, the movie seems to be very faithful to the book. It is very long and very slow and somewhat dark. The book seemed to move at a faster pace to me, but perhaps not.

The story, for those who haven't read reviews, is of two young Jesuits who go to seek their teacher and role model who is rumored to have apostatized under pressure from Japanese rulers who are torturing Christians and outlawing foreigners and their influence in 16th -17th century, at the height of missionary zeal. Francis Xavier had baptized thousands. Now thousands have been martyred.

The two, Rodrigues played by Andrew Garfield from Hacksaw Ridge, and Garupe, Adam Driver better known as Kylo Ren from Star Wars, cannot believe their favorite priest. Fr. Ferreira, has apostatized (played by Liam Neeson). They risk their own lives to sneak into the country after they hire a drunk Japanese man named Kichijiro to lead them. He is almost incapacitated when they first meet him, and he claims not to be a Christian, but he leads them to a Christian community in Japan. The leaders of this community hide the priests and bring Christians to them. They tell that Kichijiro is a Christian who apostatized. Eventually he pleads for confession.  They visit another community and finally are discovered. Their community of believers is threatened and the three leaders are killed by being crucified on the shore line and drowned by the tide. The creativity of the means of torture surprised me when I read the book.

The priests are separated and individually tortured. We see Garupe die trying to save some Christians. He had been told that Rodrigues apostatized.  Rodrigues is forced to watch Japanese Christians being tortured, and he admires them for their faith while praying for strength. He again gives Kichijiro absolution after he betrays Christ again.

Finally, the Japanese captors confront Rodrigues with his mentor, who explains his loss of faith and apostasy. Ferreira has been mentally and physically beaten and tells himself that the faith of the Japanese Christians is a faith in a false god.  Rodriques is broken as much by this encounter as he has been by the physical and mental torture.  As he listens to the groans of five more Christians being suspended head down into cesspits, he finally agrees to renounce his faith. During all this time, God has kept silent. Just as Rodrigues is about to step on an icon of Christ in an act of apostasy, he hears the voice of Christ encouraging him to step. This is what I came for, Christ seems to say - to be reviled and beaten.

In denying his faith Rodrigues is finally humbled, finally hears Christ. He becomes like the Christian he despised, Kichijiro.  An apostate and no hero for the faith. He cannot die in glory.  Instead he spends the rest of his life in Japan. Given a wife. Forced to identify any Christian symbols on imported goods.  He is completely broken.

And yet, this is his triumph. This suffering is what he needs to take away his pride and self-righteousness.  Is he Christlike in his littleness? Perhaps not. But he knows he is in need of salvation. He is humbled by his failure to be strong, to withstand torture and despair.

The one thing the movie does that I don't remember from the book, which I thought ended more ambiguously, is that it shows his body being burned in a Buddhist ceremony. His wife has placed in his casket a tiny crucifix, placed between his hands.  The film thus confirms that he did not let go of his desire for Christ, even though he was silent for all those years.

The movie leaves the audience silent as well.  I have some reservations about how this film might be received. I wish it success, but also suspect some viewers have a different view of the ending. Perhaps it is a story of Rodrigues's weakness and the inability of Christianity to sustain believers confronted by the cruelty encountered in the world, especially when it is accompanied by such beauty as exists in Japan. And in a culture hypersensitive to racial insensitivity, the archaic references to the Japanese by the Portuguese Jesuits may turn hearts to stone. And the movie as a movie has some weaknesses. The accents of Driver and Garfield sound forced at the beginning.  The cinematography doesn't capture the beauty of Japan, but has a narrow focus on the huts and foggy coasts where the Christians hide.  The pacing, as I mentioned, is slow. It is a thoughtful movie, perhaps even prayerful. As a Christian viewer, you ache for the persecuted Christians; you hope for them to be strong, to not recant, but like Rodrigues, you don't want them to suffer for their fidelity.

The movie also holds up a mirror. Would I be so faithful? Stepping on an image seems like an easy thing to do if it meant that my life and those of my family and friends would be spared. The image is not God. But the incarnational aspect of our faith accepts that images and devotionals can be sacramentals, vehicles of grace, so perhaps they can also be vehicles of betrayal, damnation. Is the voice that speaks at last really the voice of God or what Rodrigues hopes to hear?  The movie seems to suggest it is Christ, and that Christ knows our innermost hearts and accepts His rejection.  How can the priest believe he is more faithful than even Peter who denies Christ in the flesh? God knows our hearts, knows if we were to deny our faith in order to save our lives and our families. And He also must know when we are too weak to be asked to be strong - like Peter, like Kichijiro.  Kichijiro knows he is weak, a sinner, a bad Christian. Why does he keep coming back to the priests? Why does Rodrigues keep the little missionary cross, the tiny reminder of his failure to love the God he turned his back on? Because it is our failures that lead us to the Cross. . .

2016 Reading in Review

This may be a little late for a "Best of" list, as usual, but here again is my yearly review of books read in 2016.

I have not been as prolific a reader this year as in the past, and that is not because my reading is more demanding or thoughtful. Looking back at past posts, I see that I read 71 books in 2009, my first year of blogging - and most were not YA books. Some were hefty classics. In 2012, I read 60, but almost half were YA books. Blogging must have slowed my reading.  Last year I read 51 books. This year: only 43. Boo.

The two primary causes for the drop in the amount of reading are 1. teaching - my English classes, subbing in the school, and tutoring, which I officially quit this fall, coaching, and religious education - and 2. Media - but not blogging. 2016 was probably my least active year on the blog. I am not a constant phone checker, but I'll spend 15 or 45 minutes a couple times a day browsing through social media and email, which is time that could be spent reading. Also, for the past several months on weekend evenings with the kids we have been watching the Little House on the Prairie videos - other time that could be spent reading out loud. And having a toddler and teenagers wears out my brain, so time I used to spend reading is sometimes spent worrying about the kids.

Excuses, excuses - or simply analysis?  I like to do an accounting of sorts in an attempt to figure out how to devote more time to the things that matter. And sometimes I wonder how much reading is it important to do? I read a few blogs where the authors read a hundred or more books a year.  If you are a reviewer or an educator or an editor, you must be a prolific reader. But if not, reading a lot is just one choice of entertainment and edification over another.  I also see the reports and infographics of how little some people read - some people never read a book again after graduation, or haven't read a book in five years, etc.

As a reader and teacher, these numbers are horrifying but don't reveal a moral failure, exactly.  Surely, the world would be a better place if people read more rather than gossiping on-line, but many people choose to spend time with family or on other hobbies - knitting, drawing, whittling, whatever - rather than reading.  And reading junk books probably ranks on par with binging on Netflix series, as we have been doing with The Crown.  Another sort of learning...

Leaving behind conjecture to move on to the analysis of what I have read this year:

• 43 books
• 5 were rereads: Song of the Lark, The Bridge Over San Luis Rey, Sing Down the Moon, Little House on the Prairie, A Right to Be Merry
• 21 were fiction.
• 8 of those were YA or children's chapter books
• 22 were nonfiction
• of which 15 were spiritual reading, thanks to my Catholic book club
• 2 were anthologies of short stories and poetry. I actually did quite a bit of reading in preparation for my literature course this year, since I hadn't taught one in a while that had a focus on Western Lit from Ancient Times to the Renaissance.  But I didn't count that in my reading list because it was mostly excerpts and scanning for selections to assign.
• 4 were books in translation: the Mauriac, the 2 by Fr. Jacques Philippe, and Amoris Laetitia, so not a lot of diversity. 
• Sadly, only 2 could maybe count as classics, and those are a stretch - I don't think I read anything published before 1915: Song of the Lark and 1927 Bridge Over San Luis Rey. Maybe Little House on the Prairie? 

Favorites: Fiction: Song of the Lark, All the Light You Cannot See, 
Nonfiction: Man's Search for Meaning, When Breath Becomes Air, A Right to Be Merry
Least Favorite: A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

Doing this analysis shows me that I really need to expand my reading.  I didn't read any novels that were "don't miss in this lifetime." The book I mention most to fellow readers is When Breath Becomes Air.  Next year I need to make sure I read at least a couple classics, a couple books from non-Western authors, and a book or two that could be life changing or at least unforgettable in the near future.

That ties in to next year: The Immediate Book Meme courtesy of the Darwins and Melanie:

1. What book are you reading now?
The Faith Club by Ranya Idliby, Priscilla Oliver, and Suzanne Warner
This is a collection of conversations between three women of different faiths (Muslim, Christian, and Jewish) who meet to write an interfaith children's book after 9/11 in an attempt to overcome prejudice and misunderstandings. It came out in 2007. The concept is interesting and so are the conversations, but I keep finding myself surprised that it is these three women who are preparing to write a book. All three of them are not particularly active in living their respective faiths. I am thinking that by the end of the book they not only will gain a deeper understanding of the three Abrahamic traditions, but that they also engage with and love the faith they explain, although I suspect the book remains rather surface level.
Louisa: An Extraordinary Life of Mrs. Adams by Louisa Thomas
This is an advanced reading copy of a biography of Mrs. John Quincy Adams.  I'm having a really hard time sticking with it. While the time period is fascinating and the main characters have interesting roles in American history, the author makes both Mr. and Mrs. Adams rather unlikable.  She's sickly and querulous; he's demanding and unsympathetic.  Other major figures in the time period remain shadowy.  I haven't stopped reading it because I'm fascinated by the early years of American diplomacy. JQR is busy trying to establish America's presence as an independent nationality and wants his wife, who has never set foot on American soil, although her parents were Americans living in Paris, to represent republican ideals.  An interesting to be alive.

I need something new.

2. What book did you just finish?
Hillbilly Elegy by J. D. Vance  The link is to the WSJ interview with the author, which gives a good taste of what the book is about.  This may end up being one of my favorite books of the year.  It was less political than I thought it was going to be, and more of a memoir.  The author is a Kentucky hillbilly who finds success after he is taken in by his grandmother, joins the Marines, eventually goes to Ohio State and finally to Yale Law School, where he was mentored by Amy Chua, the Tiger Mother.  The setting is familiar. The rough characters that Vance grows up with are humanized and given a lovable side, which they deserve after being stereotyped by the people who don't understand how Trump could win this election.  This book is a reminder of Mother Theresa's admonission that we need to serve those here at home before seeking outside of our family/nation for those who need help. 

I bought this book as a gift for my dad and then read it while he was visiting, so I didn't write down any favorite lines, and it's not really that type of book, but my favorite part of the interview: "Mr. Vance goes back to Ohio a few times a year to see his aunt, sister and father (with whom he reconnected when he was 12), and tries to go back to Kentucky regularly. “I don’t feel at all like I can’t go back home,” he says. “The weird thing about my life is that I always feel a little out of place in both Ohio and among the elites, but I’m always most comfortable when I’m around my family.”"

I sometimes feel that same alien way out here in on the left coast. 

What Pope Francis Really Said by Tom Hoopes 
This was the book club choice for January. A quick, good read, much already familiar. As Nancy Gibbs, a writer from Rolling Stone, said, "He has not changed the words, but he has changed the music." . I already mentioned it as the source of my resolutions to build a charism of encouragement and a culture of encounter.  He mentions how technology "tends to absorb everything into its ironclad logic. In the most radical sense of the term, power is its motive -- a lordship over all."  A favorite anecdote: when he visits the Little Sisters of the Poor in America and says that you need to sing into the ear of Jesus daily "I love you, Jesus. I'm doing this for you; ...if it's just one of those days when everything is hard, you can look at that difficult resident and say, "you know, Jesus, you're really being a nuisance right now. You are really being spoiled, Jesus! I'm doing this for you!" 

Francis seems to embody what it means to have a friendship with Jesus and to have a true understanding of how Mary inspires "the revolutionary nature of love and tenderness."

Cincinnati Review.  From the Little Free Library book box. How does so much dull, gloomy writing get published? And why did I waste my time reading it? The poetry brings to mind Dana Gioia's complaint against modern verse for being opaque. Or completely nonsensical, as the case may be.

3. What do you plan to read next?

From the Little Free Library: Gettysburg Review. I picked this up at the same time as the Cincinnati Review. I loved reading Granta and Lapham's Quarterly. We'll see if this holds any treasures or if it puts me off reviews for a good long time.

For Catholic Ladies Book Club - we don't have a pick for next month or the rest of the year, but I'm going to recommend Sarah Swafford's Emotional Virtue because I bought it for my daughter on the advice of a friend who works in youth ministry. Need suggestions! Have any good ideas for books on a spiritual topic that would suit discussion in a book club?

I saw a couple books at the library book sale that I want to read: The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro and Winter's Tale by Mark Helprin

I occasionally check if the Elena Ferrante books are on the shelf at the library but the first one never is.

What classics should I add to my TBR?  Loved reading Agatha Christie. Thought about looking for Barbara Pym for my 9th grader because I want her to branch out of YA mysteries and dystopian romances.  And for a read aloud? I have an illustrated copy of the Secret Garden I might pick up with the fifth grader.

4. What book do you keep meaning to finish?
Louisa - not loving it.  About to give up. Same with The Faith Club. May skim to the end and then put back in the give-away box.

5. What book do you keep meaning to start?
Helena - Evelyn Waugh. It has been sitting on my book shelf since the church garage sale last January.

A book by Anthony Trollope that I purchased at the library book sale last April. Can't remember the title.

I am invited to three book clubs next month, two made up of military spouses, one is the high school PTO book of the semester meeting which is another book about kids and sex. The other selections are Angry Housewives Eating BonBons and a book inspired by Girl on the Train called The Girl from Perfume River.

I may not join any of these book clubs

A family read aloud - not sure what it should be.

6. What is your current reading trend?
Random books from the Little Free Library, religious book for book club, mind candy books like the time travel mysteries by Connie Willis. 

Beginning again

Hello, 2017.  You seem to have arrived early. I'm not quite ready to move on yet...

I would quite happily dwell in the past if I could.  The older kids and I have been watching The Crown about Queen Elizabeth II's ascension and coronation in the 50's.  With the youngers, we are almost finished with the 7th of 9 seasons of Little House on the Prairie. I'd gladly time travel to either of these vastly different worlds, despite the dangers and difficulties of life those many years ago.  I'm sure someone will look back on the current years and similarly wish he could return to them. Maybe. It certainly must be a good sign that throwbacks like record players, dial phones, and paperback books are making comebacks, at least as hipster Christmas gifts.  My own kids got a lot of socks and hats for Christmas.

So perhaps one of my resolutions for 2017 should be letting go of some of the "might have beens," along with the "still might bes," that I hold on to.  Allowing those daydreams of "better days" and unrealistic expectations to co-exist with the "what really is" usually means the "what really is" looks a little tarnished and undesirable, even though the possibilities are really usually impossible and sources of regret or disappointment.

Along with the New Year's  cleaning out of unused clothes (each kid picked out 5 things to pass on) shoes that are too small, extra canned goods, worn out sheets and towels, unplayed with toys, unread books, etc, I plan to clean out some left over regrets.  Easier said than done, however.

An easier resolution this year: Say something nice to each of the kids every day.  I did not do very well with most of my resolutions from last year, which were similar to years before, so perhaps I need to resolve to do simpler things.  I did succeed at a couple of things: I got the piano tuned and finally found a teacher, who has come 3 times. It's a start.  I also started blessing the kids when they go to school and hugging them more. I  have failed to do daily Gospel reading, to drink more water and cut sugar, and to read aloud more, my resolutions for several years. Time for something new. I did read more spiritual books because of my book club.  I did not do a very good job of managing media, either, but am still holding firm in not getting smart phones for the kids until they graduate from high school.

We have done some family mission work, but have failed to start something consistent.  After reading Tom Hoopes's What Pope Francis Really Said I feel newly committed to doing this.  I'd like to live some of the phrases that jump out to me from the book: culture of encounter, charism of encouragement, radical conversion.  Saying something nice to each kid daily is a way to incorporate encounter and encouragement, but  I need to extend to others, also.  So I hereby resolve to

1. Family goal: Say something nice daily to the kids  (and read more to them). The challenge will be remembering - and what to do for the college kids - a weekly note in addition to the weekly phone call? This goal is an effort to build a "charisma of encouragement" in our own family, which can often be more critical than affirming.
2. Spiritual goal: Go to adoration. (and read the Bible more). Try to make it to the small group meetings my husband and I signed up for. We've been once. Our group is a more mature crowd - older than us by a decade or more, but I enjoyed it, and I think going is a good date night, plus preparation for Sunday Mass with a Gospel reflection, and a way to be invoked in our community in a different way. Meets the "culture of encounter" goal.
3. Academic goal: Work on course readings. Write more. Engage with my students - use their names a lot. Teaching on-line makes it harder to make connections. I think I sometimes am too easy in my grading, which is sometimes a disservice, so I'm resolving to be more honest, but also to give more concrete suggestions for improvement, while being as personal as I can behind a computer screen.
4. Health and wellness: Keep up the strength training I started doing a boot camp type workout with some other neighborhood moms. Fun for LCJ and me. Keep stretching. (and drink more water and lose five pounds!)

Simple.  Now the trick is to not forget them!

Notes and pictures from Christmas and reflections on reading Hillbilly Elegy  to come.