For the Love of Enzymes

I discovered this book, For the Love of Enzymes; The Odyssey of a Biochemist, by Arthur Kornberg, by accident. I was moseying through the stacks at our university library, actually looking for something else (that happened to be checked out already) and I saw this and thought it might be an interesting read. Understatement, to say the least! As I read through this, I realized that there are probably a single handful of books (other than the scriptures) that I've read that have been life-changing, and I think that this definitely is now added to that list. I have so many pages tagged with notecards that I can hardly close the book, and is one of the very few library books that I have been sorely tempted to mark up. Needless to say, I will be buying a copy for my very own, that I can mark up as I please!

Basically, this is a memoir of Arthur Kornberg. For those who are not familiar with that name, he is a most renowned biochemist, and he won a Nobel prize in 1959 for the discovery of how to synthesize DNA in vitro.

So... why did I like this book so much? Kornberg has a very engaging manner of writing- in spite of including a fair amount of pretty in-depth biochemistry, the book was not difficult to read, and I found it quite entertaining. He talks a lot about his process of coming to study DNA synthesis- starting first as a vitamin hunter and his shift to being an enzyme hunter. He discusses the shifts in science trends from vitamins to enzymes to diseases to genes, and along with this, he includes all sorts of great stories about the famous scientists of the time. Most of these people are ones I discuss with my classes, and I'm excited to start a new semester with a whole host of new stories to share with my students.

Kornberg has a passion for research that is contagious. While it doesn't make me want to quit my teaching job, it does remind me why I went into biochemistry in the first place and makes me want to pass that along. And it makes me grateful that I do have some opportunties to continue doing some research of my own, limited as time and resources may be. He gives strong arguments for basic research and how they often lead to very practical applications.

One of my favorite passages from the book...

... Biologists, chemists, and physicists can present the human body to medical students as an uninterrupted ascent from atoms to man: from the tens of atoms that make a small molecule, to the tousands of molecules that make a polymer (such as a protein or a nucleic acid), to the millions of such polymers that make a cell, to the billions of cells that make a tissue, and the trillions of specialized cells that create a body. In a wider, panoramic view, the human body and its behavior becomes a tiny decoration in the tapestry of life interwoven with the incredible variety of plasmids, viruses, bacteria, plants, and animals in a 4-billion-year evolutionary development.

The coalescence of the biological and medical sciences, as illustrated by these several examples, is based largely on their expression in a common language, chemistry. Understanding all of life, human behavior included, as chemistry links the biological sciences with all the physical sciences- the atmospheric, earth, and engineering sciences. Chemical language, rech and fascinating, paints images of great aesthetic beauty with beguilingly deeper mysteries.

I feel that reading about Kornberg's experiences in science will change the way I approach teaching many different aspects of all of my classes. I'd love to include it as required reading for my biochem class, but as I think about it, I realize that I wouldn't have gotten nearly as much out of it as an undergraduate. So I don't think I'll be using the entire book, although I may assign certain chapters, and recommend it in entirety for a few students that are grad school and research bound. And I'll be keeping a copy on my desk for reference.

Happy Thanksgiving

I hope that everyone had a happy Thanksgiving. I was able to drive down to Houston to spend the long weekend with my Grandfather, and we've been having a great time. Yesterday we spent most of the day over at my cousin's home, with a few other Evans cousins over as well. There were 28 people at dinner (8 adults and 20 kids), and I don't think I've ever seen so many mashed potatoes/ rolls/ people piled up in one kitchen before. It was great fun.

The majority of kids are under 12, resulting in a tremendous amount of energy pent up after the meal, so a walk/ bike ride/ scooter ride/ skateboard ride/ stroller ride to the park helped to burn a little bit of that off. We returned home for a short pilgram play. Several of the kids wanted to dress up for the occasion and there were limited costumes, so we had the required pilgrims and indians, but to add a little zest to the evening, we also were treated to a knight from the crusades, a pioneer, a fireman/construction worker, a samurai warrior (with swords), and what I think was a storm trooper, complete with light saber. It was truly excellent. And that was followed by pie- pumpkin, pecan, apple, cherry, blueberry, raspberry, strawberry, peanut butter, key lime, ice cream, cheesecake, and probably some other kinds that I can't remember. I had pieces of the pecan and the key lime, Grandpa had pumpkin, and they were all delicious.

Interwoven between all of the activities was lots and lots of talking. It was great to spend time and have the chance to visit with cousins that I haven't seen in years. It's always fun to see how much we have in common, even though our lives have taken us in many different directions. It was great to see their kids growing up. And it was great to be reminded that I'm part of a wonderful family. Now I'm even more excited for Christmas and the chance to see some of my own sibs and nephews (I'll have to wait for spring to see my nieces!)

A Means for Unity

You know, there are all sorts of ways to start conversations with people that you don't know and find things that you have in common with them. I discovered a new way yesterday as I was waiting at the mechanic (Henry needed his pre-Thanksgiving road trip tune-up). There were several other people waiting along with me, and most of them didn't seem inclined to chat much. That is, they didn't seem inclined to chat until someone started flipping through channels on the TV and found the discovery channel show, Cash Cab. Has anyone seen that? It is a game show in New York City. People step into the cab, give the driver their destination, then all these lights come on and they get to answer questions for money on the way. If they get three questions wrong, they get kicked out of the cab. If they make it all the way to their destination, they get to decide whether to go double or nothing on a video question.

Anyway, I was amazed at what happened when this show came on. Everyone waiting started playing along and discussing what the contestants should do. Even a couple of mechanics, as they walked through the room, would pause for a few seconds to shout out an answer. Part way through the show, a teenage girl came in and sat down, looking incredibly grumpy and looking at us like we were idiots. She sat there for five or ten minutes, texting on her phone and refusing to make eye contact with anyone, until the contestants in the cab were asked what is equal to rise over run, and she called out, "It has to be the slope!" She, too, was hooked, and when I left, she was deep in discussion with the lady sitting next to her about whether they should go double or nothing on the video bonus quesion. It may have been the most pleasant mechanic experience I've ever had, and it definitely was a great way to start out my Thanksgiving week.

Eclectic Taste in Books

As I finished a novel yesterday and posted the title on the sidebar of this blog (Pollyanna Grows Up, that I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I thoroughly enjoyed) I realized that I'm currently in the middle of four books (well, three now that I've finished that one) and I'm wondering what my current reading list says about me. Here's the current state of things:

1. Joseph Smith, Rough Stone Rolling, by Richard Lyman Bushman on the nightstand (just a few pages before I go to bed... an hour later I think I really should turn the light out and go to sleep, but I want to read just one more page...)

2. African Rhapsody, Short Stories of the Contemporary African Experience, edited by Nadezda Obradovic at the dining room table (I'm determined to finish David's Africa Challenge by the end of the year!)

3. For the Love of Enzymes, by Arthur Kornberg, one of my all time favorite biochemists, at my office (to read during spare moments, and moments when I should be grading papers but really don't feel like it.)

4. Pollyanna Grows Up, by Eleanor H. Porter in my purse (for those times when I'm waiting in line at the grocery store, for trains crossing the road, at appointments on those few occasions when I'm a little bit early.)

I'm thinking that For the Love of Enzymes is going to go into my purse (although I may need to switch to a larger one to accommodate it) and I probably should scrap the fun reading at the office until I get all caught up with my grading. I was telling a colleague about this book, and I guess I was waxing poetic about how much I'm liking it. Having read his account of being a "vitamin hunter", I'm going to completely change the way I approach teaching my students about coenzymes. My friend's comment was, "You are such a biochemist!" and I realized later that evening that I consider that one of the nicest compliments I've received in a long time.

Anyway, Christmas vacation is fast approaching, and I'm looking forward to a break from school, seeing my family, and having a little more time for fun reading. I'm working on a book list for the holidays, and am open to any and all suggestions.

The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down

The second book we read (for the book group at school) as a possibility for a text for the freshman to read for next year is The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, by Anne Fadiman. I must admit that I suggested this book, so I was definitely biased for it. As I read it, I was reminded that it really is a brilliant book, although I don't think it is right for our freshmen. We have yet to discuss it at school, and I'll be really interested to see what people think of it.

This book is an account of the medical case of Lia Lee, a young Hmong girl who has a severe case of epilepsy. Anne Fadiman is most thorough in her research, and interviews Lia's family, doctors, social workers, neighbors, anyone who has worked with or knows of the case. What it turns into is a really bad case of culture clash. The Hmong consider epilepsy, and the seizures that come with it, almost an honor, and a chance to interact with the divine. The American medical community interpret the situation much differently. The language barrier and cultural differences essentially make it unable for the two parties to communicate effectively, even when an adequate translator can be found.

The book becomes an examination of cultural differences as much as a medical story. At times it is almost comical to see how people can approach a situation from completely opposite sides, then you realize that a young woman's life is in the balance, and it becomes intensely sad and frustrating.

The Hmong of Merced to not sacrifice dogs, which they know are protected by American law and custom- though some of them, like the victim of the dab of Bear Creek that Nao Kao told me about, may have wished that they could... To sacrifice a cow, as the Lees did, is a rare and important event. It was the first time they had done so during their six years in the United States. Lia's cow cost $300, a monumental sum for a family of nine who were living on $9,480 a year, plus food stamps. When I asked Nao Kao where the money had come from, he said, "Lia had her own money from the government." It took me a moment to understand: he had bought the sacrificial cow with three and a half months' worth of Lia's Supplemental Security Income, a use to which federqal disability assistance had probably never before been put.

Because Nao Kao had no way of transporting a live cow to East 12th Street, he bought one form an American rancher who lived near Merced, had it slaughtered, and, with the help of some of his clansmen, cut it in pieces small enough to stuff into plastic garbage bags that fit on the floor and in the trunk of his cousin's subcompact car. After they returned home, a txiz neeb performed the ritual chant that accompanied his journey to the realm of the unseen. During the chant, the cow's severed head was sitting on the Lees' front stoop, welcoming Lia's soul. When I asked the Lees whether any American passersby might have been surprised by this sight, Foua said, "No, I don't think they would be surprised, because it wasn't the whole cow on the doorstep, only the head." Nao Kao added, "Also, Americans would think it was okay because we had the receipt for the cow."

Throughout the book, I found myself asking how I would handle the situation if I were the doctor, the nurse, or the social worker. In hindsight, the reader can see all their mistakes, but I don't honestly think I could/would have handled it any differently. Fadiman is straightforward in showing how foreign (in all senses of the word) the Hmong culture is to that of Americans, and I think she does an excellent job of being honest, yet fair to both sides. The immigrant experience in America is presented in a way that really made me open my eyes.

I once went to a conference on Southeast Asian mental health at which a psychologist named Evelyn Lee, who was born in Macao, invited six members of the audience to come to the front of the auditorium for a role-playing exercise. She cast them as a grandfather, a father, a mother, an eighteen-year-old son, a sixteen-year-old daughter, and a twelve-year-old daughter. "Okay," she told them, "line up according to your status in your old country." Ranking themselves by traditional notions of age and gender, they queued up in the order I've just mentioned, with the grandfather standing proudly at the head of the line. "Now they come to America," said Dr. Lee. "Grandfather has no job. Father can only chop vegetables. Mother didn't work in the old country, but here she gets a job in a garment factory. Oldest daughter works there too. Son drops out of high school because he can't learn English. Youngest daughter learns the best English in the family and ends up at U.C. Berkeley. Now you line up again." As the family reshuffled, I realized that its power structure had turned completely upside down, with the yougest girl now occupying the head of the line and the grandfather standing forlornly at the tail.

Dr. Lee's exercise was an eloquent demonstration of what sociologists call "role loss." Of all the stresses in the Hmong community, role loss- the constellation of apparent incompetencies that convinced Lia's mother she was stupid- may be the most corrosive to the ego.

Although I'm not convinced that this is going to fit exactly what we want our freshmen to read as a class, I would recommend this book to anyone. It's positively enlightening and frustrating, all at the same time, and it's near impossible not to get caught up emotionally in the book.

The Alchemist

I recently joined a book club at work. Our goal? Select a book for next year's freshmen to read as part of their first year experience class. We are hoping to find one that will inspire them to make the world a better place and to give them some appreciation for a culture not their own (this year we are reading "Mountains to Mountains" by Paul Farmer.) The first book that was suggested was "The Alchemist" by Paulo Choelho. It came well recommended by a couple of friends whose bookish opinions I usually agree with, and when I looked at the Amazon recommendations they were very high. That being said, I was definitely not impressed.

"The Alchemist" is a quick read and takes place in some interesting places. The story follows a young shepherd who is determined to follow his personal legend- he sells his flock and journeys to the pyramids in Egypt to find his treasure, and meets various characters along the way who teach him lessons and give him advice. Parts of it I liked- there's nothing wrong with figuring out what your personal legend is and making the pursuit of it a top priority. In spite of that, I thought that the book was WAY too touchy-feely and had a strong new age tone to it that I was a bit uncomfortable with. I'm not so much into the mystical "listen to the desert and get in touch with the soul of the world" type of thing. I realize that this might paint me as too shallow to see the deep symbolism, but I just can't imagine trying to spend an entire semester with this as the main text.

Next up, "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down" by Anne Fadiman. This one was my suggestion, so I realize that I'm totally biased, but I'm really looking forward to reading it again- it's been years.

The Wonder Clock

I've been in a bit of a reading funk lately, with lots of good books to read but the wrong mood for any of them. A few nights ago, I decided to pull out the used copy of "The Wonder Clock", by Howard Pyle, that I picked up a couple of years ago at a library sale. I've read some other things by Pyle that I really enjoyed- "The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood" and "Men of Iron" are fantastic, with illustrations not to be missed. "The Wonder Clock" was no disappointment. It is a collection of fairy tales that the author first heard from an amazing clock that he found in Father Time's attic. There is one tale for each hour of the day, a short verse that precedes each one, and great illustrations throughout. I did have to tuck away some feminist leanings that bubbled up as I started to read, but once I remembered the age in which this was written, I thoroughly enjoyed the book and learned several very useful life lessons.

1. It is much better to be a youngest son than an older one. Unfortunately, I can't help that one, being neither a son nor a youngest.

2. When you are traveling through a forest and meet an old woman in tatters who asks you for two pennies, don't hesitate for a second- just fork them over.

3. Never bet your left eye against your brother's horse unless you are absolutely sure that you will win.

4. If you ignore lesson #3 and lose the aforesaid bet, you can be healed by wetting your eye with a handkerchief that has been soaked in dew collected under a gallows.

5. When faced with the task of having to collect crow's eggs from the top of a 100 ft. fir tree with sides as smooth as glass, the best way to succeed is to find a princess that will call to the wind to carry her hair up to the top so that you can climb it.

6. Stealing magic pinecones from a dwarf blacksmith can be hazardous to your happiness and that of your children.

7. If you are a grey goose, a red fox is probably not the best husband for you.

8. If you are a sausage who wants to explore the big wide world, watch out for friends with ulterior motives.

Enough said!

What is the What

David Egger's book, "What is the What" is the story of Valentino Achak Deng. I've seen the novel pretty much everywhere and felt like I really wanted to read it- and David's Africa Reading Challenge was a perfect excuse (not that I really needed an excuse...) The book actually takes place over the span of two days, but is mostly made up of Valentino's reminiscences of his youth- early childhood in Sudan, being driven from his village and joining the Lost Boys who march across the desert to safety, life in a variety of refugee camps, then the difficult adaptation to life in the United States. Throughout the book, Valentino is telling his story (not audibly, but thinking it through) to various people that he encounters. I know that some people have found this way of telling his story a little off-putting, but I found that it put a rather intimate feel to the entire thing.

I have heard some parts of this experience- the bands of boys that crossed to safety and a little about the refugee camps- but I found it very interesting and educational. The story is fictionalized, but enlightening to say the least. Most of all, it made me realize how much we take our comfortable lives, with jobs, family to depend on, and educational opportunities, for granted.

An Irish Country Doctor

I'm not even sure where I first heard about An Irish Country Doctor, by Patrick Taylor, but when I looked it up on Amazon, it looked like it might be a fun read- and it was. An Irish Country Doctor is about just that- a young doctor, Barry Laverty, just out of residency, who goes to the village Ballybucklebo to work with an established physician (who is a character in himself, with quite unconventional techniques.) As you can imagine, there are all sorts of eccentric people in the village who Barry meets up with as he works to establish himself. The Amazon reviewers compared Taylor's writing to that of James Herriot and Jan Karon. The overall story reminded me very much of the Herriot books- Barry travels around the village and has run ins with various and assorted people, as he tries to get his bearings in a difficult profession. And while I thought this was a fun book, it somehow lacked the spark that makes Herriot's books laughy-out-loud funny- I can't quite put my finger on what was missing, but not quite the same. And while there are definite similarities between this book and Jan Karon's Mitford series, An Irish Country Doctor didn't have the saccharine sweetness that Karon's books have (that's a good thing- sweet is fine at times, but it gets to be too much really quickly.) So, overall, I can recommend this as a great summer read- not too heavy and deep, but very entertaining.

The Mysterious Island

Several months ago, a friend of mine read The Mysterious Island, by Jules Verne, and highly recommended it. I've read a few other books by Verne and enjoyed them, so I thought that I'd give this one a try. It's the story of five men, on the Union side in a town being occupied by Confederate forces, that escape by hot air balloon. Unfortunately, they are blown off course by a huge storm and end up being stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere. The bulk of the book tells their tale of life on the island. In many ways, it reminded me of Swiss Family Robinson, which I read many, many times as a child- I guess that survival on a deserted island is similar, regardless of when and where you are.

The thing that I thought rather comical is that anytime someone in books is stranded on an island, there is at least one person in the group who has the background to identify eatable plants/ build machines/ perform surgery... in spite of the adverse conditions. Within a month of being stranded on the mysterious island, the stranded men were smelting ore and distilling various plant extracts to make nitroglycerine... very Gilligan's Island.

At times, Verne tends to wax prosaic with the natural history passages.

"Eucalypti!" cried Herbert.

They were, in fact, those splendid trees, the giants of the extra tropical zone, the congeners of the Australian and New Zealand eucalyptus, both situated under the same latitude as Lincoln Island... Nothing is more wonderful or more singular than those enormous specimens of the order of the myrtaceae, with their leaves placed vertically and not horizontally, so that an edge and not a surface looks upwards, the effect being that the sun's rays penetrate more freely among the trees.

... The eucalyptus belongs to a family which comprises many useful members; the guava-tree, from whose fruit guava jelly is made; the clove=tree, which produces the spice; the pomegranate-tree, which bears pomegranates; the Eugeacia Cauliflora, the fruit of which is used in making a tolerable wine; the Ugui myrtle, which contains an excellent alcoholic liquor; the Caryophyllus myrtle, of which the bark forms an esteemed cinnamon; the Eugenia Pimenta, from whence comes Jamaica pepper; the common myrtle, from whose buds and berries spice is sometimes made; the Eucalyptus manifera, which yields a sweet sort of manna; the Guinea Eucalyptus, the sap of which is transformed into beer by fermentation...

You get the idea... In spite of this, I rather enjoyed this book. I knew nothing of the story ahead of time, so the twist at the end was quite unexpected. I came to really like the characters. And the copy of the book that I read had the illustrations of N. C. Wyeth that were just outstanding.

And for the record, if I'm ever stranded on an island, Cyrus Harding is the one I would want to be with.

What had Pencroft to say? He could say nothing, for, in the bottom of his heart he shared the confidence which his companions had in Cyrus Harding. The engineer was to them a microcosm, a compound of every science, a possessor of all human knowledge. It was better to be with Cyrus in a desert island, than without him in the most flourishing town in the United States. With him they could want nothing; with him they would never despair. If these brave men had been told that a volcanic eruption would destroy the land, that this land would be engulfed in the depths of the Pacific, they would have imperturbably replied, "Cyrus is here!"

If You Lived Here, I'd Know Your Name

I've noticed that many books these days have a list on the back cover or flap of other authors that have similar styles. It's interesting to see who is compared to who, and to figure out whether I agree with the publisher's comparison. If You Lived Here, I'd Know Your Name, by Heather Lende is a book that I heard about on my Alaska trip- it was highly recommended by a bookseller in Ketchikan, and since I had already spent my book allowance for that day, I noted the title and found it at our public library here at home. Heather Lende is a journalist living in Haines, Alaska with her family. She writes a column about notable events that happen in Haines (a very small town) as well as all of the obituaries for the local paper. The publisher compares Lende's writing to that of Bailey White and Garrison Keillor. I've decided that I enjoyed this book, but I have a better comparison than either of those suggested.

Lende writes about some of the quirky characters that live in Haines- colorful, to be true. While her style is fun, the stories are very interesting, and the culture of the area is entwined in her essays (similar to the stories of southern living by Bailey White), Lende is much more reflective than White. Her experiences, not only meeting with families of the deceased to learn about them for the obituaries but of living in a harsh, unforgiving environment, leads to introspection about life and death that I found most insightful.

Lende has a rather rambling writing style- she starts with one story and then lets that lead her to tangents about her family, friends, and the town in general (similar to the stories of Garrison Keillor). At first I found this distracting, but once I got into the hang of it, I found that it was quite fun. The difference between the two is that (in my opinion) Keillor's writing is much better read aloud- somehow his Lake Wobegon stories are not all that funny when read silently. In contrast to that, I enjoyed reading Lende's essays to myself, and while they are not laugh-out-loud funny, I found myself smiling a lot as I read them, as well as tearing up every now and then.

So... my author comparison suggestion for Heather Lende (drum roll, please)... is Anne Lamott. Lende has a gentle humor and the reflection/spirituality factor that I thought was similar to that found in "Operating Instructions" and "Traveling Mercies", both by Lamott. Anyway, probably way more information than anyone wanted to know, but I found myself thinking about this all the way through the book. "It's not quite Bailey White or Garrison Keillor and it's similar to some other things I've read... I just can't quite put my finger on it..."

Two thumbs up for this- again, I enjoyed it very much. I've thought a lot about some of her comments about life and death. And I learned a lot about living in the wilds- with any number of animals roaming around your home and the elements seeming very close. To whet your appetite for it, here's an excerpt. (I like this passage because I feel the same way every time I successfully can anything.)

Linnus and I smoke this batch of salmon for a day and a half before preserving it. We don't get the sterilized jars in the canners until after ten. We're tired and smell like wood smoke and fish. Everyone else has gone to bed. Instead of talking, we sit on the couch in companionable silence, drinking cold beer and half-watching a video- Good Will Hunting- that makes us both laugh and cry, while checking on the three pressure cookers hissing gently on the stove.

It was after one by the time we had the jars cooling on dish towels on the counter. The midsummer sky was already starting to lighten again when Linnus left to get some sleep. I stood and stared at those perfect pints, all shiny glass, brass-colored tops, and deep-orange fish, amazed and thrilled that I could make anything this good. I tapped the lids to know they were sealed properly and felt like a pioneer, a good mother and provident wife. Every single time I smoke salmon I feel the same way- as if it's some kind of miracle.

When Linnus, who was born to all this, not a convert like me, notices my fish-filled jars lined up proudly on an open shelf rather than tucked inside a dark cupboard, she shakes her head. This is all as easy for her as walking. For me, it is like learning to speak a foreign language.

A Quirky Meme

My friend Melissa has been in a meme mood of late and tagged me for this one. It's taken me a while to come up with six quirks that I'm willing to admit to, but at long last, here they are (my family and my students could probably come up with many more!)

Here are the rules:
1. Link the person(s) who tagged you
2. Mention the rules on your blog
3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours
4. Tag 6 fellow bloggers by linking them
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged

Here's my list:
1. I am absolutely NOT a "front row" kind of girl. There's something about sitting in the middle front row of a meeting or classroom that makes me very uncomfortable (there's all that pressure to stay awake and look like you're paying attention...) I'll sit on the side of the front row if I have to (sometimes that happens if I'm accompanying the singing) but I would much, much, much rather sit further back.

2. I am not a clean freak, and I honestly admit that I often retire for the evening with the kitchen sink still full of dirty dishes. But, the one thing that does have to be done every day is making the bed. The house can be a disaster, but I always feel that if I have made my bed then I have done something useful that day.

3. I like to eat my meals one food at a time. Don't get me wrong- everything can be on the same plate, and I have no issues with foods touching other foods- but I guess that old habits die hard, and instead of taking one bite of green beans, one bite of potatoes, one bite of chicken, one bite of green beans... it's always all the green beans on my plate, then the potatoes, then the chicken (or the other way around- depends on the day!)

4. I really don't care for milk on my cold cereal. Yogurt is fine. Applesauce is fine. Even buttermilk is fine on Cheerios (it's thicker than regular milk and doesn't make the cereal soggy.) Eating cereal dry with nothing on it is fine. But milk on cereal- definitely not my favorite.

5. I read the paper over breakfast (or dinner on those busy school days) and the comics are usually the first things that I turn to. The quirky thing is that I always read them in a very particular order- from least favorite to most favorite. That means that "Pearls Before Swine" and "The Meaning of Lila" (blech!) get read first and "Pickles", "Zits", and "For Better or Worse" get read towards the end (with the latter saved for the very last.) Forget skipping the ones I don't like- it can't be done.

6. I sew a fair amount (mostly quilts, with clothes every now and then) and I used to buy individual spools of colored thread to match every sewing project. The last several years, however, I've gotten lazy and I sew most things these days with gray thread (not white or black- it has to be a very specific shade of gray.) I buy spools and spools of it whenever it goes on sale, and while I don't quite have a year's supply of it, I definitely have enough to get me through a few months.

So that's me- quirks and all. I'm going to ignore rules 4 and 5, but if you're reading this and want to participate, go to it! (And leave me a note!)

Family Reunion

I got home last night from a family reunion that my sister and her family hosted up in Ithaca, New York. Everyone was there with the exception of my youngest brother, who is currently out of the country- believe me, his absence left a big hole. It was wonderful to see nephews and nieces, all who have grown considerably since I saw them last, and to meet my youngest little niece. We spent the week hiking and swimming and playing games and picking berries and eating great food and visiting Palmyra and seeing a ball game and watching a movie and contra dancing and just enjoying our time together. Coming home, I find that my home is much too quiet, and I miss having the fire trucks and train tracks and bionicles and playmobil accessories all over the place. I need to work on that...

Many thanks to everyone who made this week possible!

I took lots of photos, and here are some of my favorites.

People:


























Places:

The Fortune Cookie Chronicles

I picked this book up in the "new" section of the library last week as I was looking for a good book to read on the plane. Somehow, I've been in foodie book mode the last little while, and this one did not disappoint. The Fortune Cookie Chronicles, by Jennifer 8 Lee (yes, that is an eight and not a typo) is an extensive look at Chinese food in America- the history of it, the way it has been adapted to the U.S., the politics behind it, and the appeal to everyone. Lee talks about the way that Chinese food was first introduced in the U.S. by immigrants, how it became popular shortly after Nixon made his visit to China, and how Chinese food found in America is not the same as Chinese food found in China. There is extensive research presented on the origin of fortune cookies, the start of the "take-out" meal, the way that soy sauce is made, the challenges of staffing Chinese restaurants and the difficulties for many of those who came here (legally and illegally) to work. The book is written in a fun style, and I enjoyed reading about Lee's travels in her efforts to ferret out the origins of General Tso's chicken and the best Chinese restaurant in the world. I can recommend this book as a great read, with two thumbs up.

Here's a favorite quote, that sums up one of the main points of the book.

Trey Yuen's Szechuan alligator dish ended up being light-colored chunks of meat mixed with ginger, garlic, and crushed pepper. The alligator looked like cooked chicken but tasted surprisingly springy and tender. "I call it bayou veal," said Tommy Wong, the fourth of the five brothers, in a Texas twang. "Some people are squeamish about trying alligator, especially people from out of town," he said. Of course, he eventually does tell the people who dine on "bayou veal" the truth- "After they've eaten it."...

Could you get Szechuan alligator anywhere else in the world? Probably not in China, yet this dish in front of me was arguably- even recognizably- Chinese.

A driving force behind Chinese cooking is the desire to adapt and incorporate indigenous ingredients and utilize Chinese cooking techniques, Tommy explained. Chinese cooking is not a set of dishes. It is a philosophy that serves local tastes and ingredients.

That idea continued to reverberate with me as I encountered creations like cream cheese wontons (also called crab Rangoon) in the Midwest, Philly cheesesteak rolls (egg rolls on the outside, cheesesteak inside) in Philadelphia, and the chow mein sandwich in New England. Chinese food, perhaps, does not have to originate in China.

The Willoughbys

I am a huge Lois Lowry fan (in my opinion, anyone who can write something like The Giver is nothing short of brilliant), so when I read that she had a new book out, The Willoughbys, I knew that I had to read it. It's completely different from anything else I have read by her, but I have to say that I really enjoyed it. The Willoughbys is a spoof of all the old fashioned, orphan books you could ever think of. Lowry mentions them all in the text itself, then has a bibliography in the back. I have read 10 out of 13 of them, so I think I "got" most of the jokes. In reality, though, I think that you could enjoy this just as much without having read any of the references.

The Willoughbys is the story of the Willoughby family, with two rather beastly parents, children Timothy, Barnaby A and Barnaby B (twins), and Jane, and a not so odious nanny. I'm not even sure how to talk about this book, other than to say that it was composed as a giant joke, and I found myself laughing out loud many, many times throughout. One of my favorite passages is in the first chapter, when the children find an abandoned baby on their front step.

Their mother, frowning, opened the door at the end of the long hall. She emerged from the kitchen. "Whatever is that noise?" she asked. "I am trying to remember the ingredients for meat loaf and I cannot hear myself think."

"Oh, someone has left a beastly baby on our front steps," Tim told her.

"My goodness, we don't want a baby!" their mother said, coming forward to take a look. "I don't like the feel of this at all."

"I'd like to keep it," Jane said in a small voice. "I think it's cute."

"No, it's not cute," Barnaby A said, looking down at it.

"Not cute at all," Barnaby B agreed.

"It has curls," Jane pointed out.

Their mother peered at the baby and then reached toward the basket of beige knitting that she kept on a hall table. She removed a small pair of gold-plated scissors and snipped them open and closed several times, thoughtfully. Then she leaned over the basket and used the scissors.

"Now it doesn't have curls," she pointed out, and put the scissors away.

Jane stared at the baby. Suddenly it stopped crying and stared back at her with wide eyes. "Oh, dear. It isn't cute without curls," Jane said. "I guess I don't want it anymore."

"Take it someplace else, children," their mother said, turning back toward the kitchen. "Dispose of it. I'm busy with a meat loaf."

And it just gets better from there. This is a fun, light, kind of fluffy book. It's categorized with the children's fiction, and I think that children would probably enjoy the story, but I'm guessing that they might not find it terribly funny. That said, it's a fantastic summer read, and I'm extremely impressed with Lowry's wit and the breadth of genres in which she excels.

P.S. there is a great glossary at the very end, that is just as funny as the rest of the book. Make sure not to miss it! Here are a few of my favorite entries.

AFFABLE means good-natured and friendly. There are whole groups of people who are known for being affable. Cheerleaders, for example. Or Mormon missionaries.

AUSPICIOUS means that there are a lot of good omens indicating that something is going to turn out well. If you happen to see a large number of people wearing scarlet footwear in October, it is auspicious. It means the Red Sox are going to win the World Series. Yes!

CONSPIRACY is a plan to do something subversive. Three guys planning a camping trip... nah, that's just three guys planning a camping trip. But three guys planning to take a camping trip and rob a bank along the way... that's a conspiracy.

CRYPTIC means seeming to have a hidden meaning. If your mother says, "Consider yourself grounded, mister!" it is not at all cryptic. But if she says in a certain voice, "We need to talk," she is being cryptic. And you are about to be grounded.

Cut Backs

One of my big projects this summer was to get my trees trimmed back. I have two large trees in the front yard- a maple and an elm- and a HUMONGOUS mulberry tree in the back. All of them were overgrown and every time it storms, I lose branches (and worry about my roof as well as the neighbor's.)

After calling around to several tree trimming companies in town, I found one that I really liked, with a price that seemed fairly reasonable. Besides, they were very complimentary about my mulberry tree and told me that they had only seen one tree in all of Wichita that was bigger (over on the east side in College Hill.) The head of the crew guessed it at about 120 years old. Truth be told, that tree was one of the main things that made me fall in love with this house the very first time I ever saw it.

Anyway, they came this afternoon with a crew of 7 and worked for about six hours taking care of everything. I must say that it was great fun to watch them work. There were three guys that had climbing gear that went up in the trees with chainsaws to get the bulk of the branches. They were up and down and swinging around in the branches like Tarzan (no yells that I heard, but I was expecting them at any minute.) It looked like it was snowing sawdust. Then the clean up crew, who looked not unlike ZZ Top, piled all the debris on a giant trailer. It reminded me of the hay baling stories I've read about, where there is one person on top- everyone tosses in some of the branches, then the guy on top runs around stamping it all down, then the process repeats all over again. I was quite amazed at the height they were able to achieve- very impressive!

And then it was all over, and I can see my roof again. They cut all the deadwood out of all three of the trees and raised them up over the street and the roofs- and did a fantastic job. Now all I need to do is get the rest of the landscaping under control... one step at a time...

Before:












In progress:










After:

The Sharper Your Knife, The Less You Cry

The Sharper Your Knife, The Less You Cry; Love, Laughter, and Tears at the World's Most Famous Cooking School, by Kathleen Flinn, is the author's story of her time attending Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. I found it in the new books section at the library and was intrigued, particularly after reading My Life in France about Julia Child's experiences studying there.

Flinn sets the stage early on, describing what led her to the culinary school of all culinary schools,

As a little girl, while other children played house, I played restaurant. In our basement, I set up two sets of child-size chairs and tables topped with fabric remnants and plastic flowers. I scrawled menus in crayon, featuring the likes of licorice soup, Pez casserole, and cotton-candy pie. I pretended to prepare everything for my guests- often imaginary- on a broken-down Easy-Bake oven. My parents viewed it all as an overzealous game of tea.

When Flinn is downsized from her job, attending Le Cordon Bleu, something she has always dreamed of doing, is the next step. With the encouragement of her boyfriend, she moves to Paris and enrolls. The remainder of the book is a description of lessons learned, relationships established, guests hosted, places visited, and lots of food descriptions. It is written in a very comfortable and approachable style, and I'm happy to report that her experience at the school was a more positive one than Julia had. (I'd like to think that I'm on a first name basis with Ms. Child...)

I enjoyed this memoir very much and can heartily recommend it. I liked the way that the author takes lessons learned in the kitchen and applies them to her life. One in particular is the advice that she hears over and over and over and over again, to taste, taste, taste, at every step of the way.

As in cooking, living requires that you taste, taste, taste as you go along- you can't wait until the dish of life is done. In my career, I always looked ahead to the place I wanted to go, te next rung on the ladder. It reminds me of "The Station" by Robert Hastings, a parable read at our wedding. The message is that while on a journey, we are sure the answer lies at the destination. But in reality, there is no station, no "place to arrive at once and for all. The joy of life is the trip, and the station is a dream that constantly outdistances us."

After each chapter, Flinn includes a recipe, and I was determined by the end of the third chapter to try at least one of them (although many of them look really tasty.) I wasn't up to butchering an entire lamb (just kidding- her recipes are much more realistic for the normal person than that!) and I decided to attempt the chocolate souffle. I've always been a little scared of souffles- everyone says how difficult they are to make, so I've never tried to make one before- but after all, this is the year to try new things, and what's the worst that could happen??? I must say that it was pretty labor intensive, and I dirtied up just about every bowl and pot that I own, but the recipe turned out great and tasted really good. I made little individual ones instead of a giant one- there are plenty of leftovers for the moment, so let me know if you want to come on over to share! And to any sibs that might be reading this- no, I will not be making these at the family reunion, although I'm happy to pass along the recipe if you want it...

It's a Puzzler

I really enjoy doing jigsaw puzzles and find that once I get them started, I can't stop working on them until they're completed. This is the main reason that I never start them during the school year- only at Christmas, spring, and summer breaks. I promised myself that one of the first things I was going to do once girls camp was done was to do a puzzle, and the day I got back I received one in the mail from Mom and Dad (a belated birthday gift- THANKS!!) I'm happy to report that I was able to get it completed- with a couple of very late nights and along with some great old movies to keep me company. One the other hand, I must say that the picture on the box is NOT exactly like the picture on the puzzle, which I think should be illegal. The picture is all of m&ms, and as you can probably guess from the photo, this was not the easiest one to put together. Now I've got to see if I have any chocolate in my pantry......


As an aside, in case you're worried, yes I did get some other things accomplished during the week- many hours working in the yard, some sewing, all the laundry caught up, unpacked from camp, some piano practice, errands run, a long bike ride, some reading done, and a whole morning of research... enough that I don't feel too guilty spending time puzzling!

Quilt Show

Last Saturday I went to see "Common Threads", the quilt show that the Wichita guild puts on every other year. I think that the show was a bit smaller than the last one that they held, but it was a lot of fun, nonetheless. It definitely made me want to come home and sew (which I did!) The majority of quilts on display were pretty traditional, though there were some arty quilts, which I find I prefer. I've posted pictures of a few of my favorites.

Dragon's Keep

I've spent the last several weeks researching books on fighting dragons for a girls camp workshop that I gave last week. After going through our public library catalog ad nauseam, I narrowed it down to about 8 books, some of which I had read before, some not. Dragon's Keep, but Janet Lee Carey, looked very interesting (and I must admit that I was intrigued by the picture on the cover... I know, I know, you're not supposed to judge by that...) I didn't have time to finish the entire book before camp, so I spent a couple of hours yesterday evening wrapping it up.

The premise is a fun one. Rosalind, a princess in the twenty-first generation from Arthur, is the chosen one, to deliver her family from obscurity. Unfortunately, she is born cursed with a dragons talon for her left hand ring finger. Her mother goes to all lengths to hide the curse, thinking that if the people find out, they will declare her daughter a witch to be burned at the stake. I don't want to give away the entire story, but suffice it to say that Rosalind has some adventures with dragons that are living in the area, and everything comes together in a happy ever after ending.

I was glad that I read this, but it wasn't one of my favorites and probably is not one that I'll be reading over again. While I liked the heroine quite a lot, I thought that several of the other characters that play important roles in the story line were rather underdeveloped. The villain definitely needed additional time and play in the story. Also, while I'm all about happy ever afters, I thought that this one was wrapped up much too quickly. It felt like the author got to the end of her energy and just threw together the ending of the story. More information would have really helped the reader understand what was going on, and would have heightened the suspense. So, if you're crazy about dragons, this might be a good read for you, but I would suggest that you could probably find better ones.

Girls Camp

I'm happy to report that I got back from girls camp last night in one piece- tired, but well. We had a few interesting challenges at camp this year, but overall camp was a resounding success. Our theme this year was "Camp-A-Lot, Defending the King" and we had all sorts of activities that built into the theme, from a renaissance fair to workshops on donning the armor of God and fighting dragons. Combined with all of that was a sunrise hike, canoing, swimming, team building activities, and level time (learning basic camping skills). Our camp director this year and her counselors were AWESOME and did a fantastic job of pulling everything together, and we had lots of great help from all quarters. I think that it is safe to say that everyone came home very tired, but glad that they went.

**Please note that by the end of the week, the CTR on the banner in one of the photos below stood for "Chicks That Reek"- sad, but very appropriate.

June Wedding

I was invited to the wedding of a former student of mine (student, advisee, lab assistant, friend...) on Saturday. It was in Chanute, Kansas, a small town about 2 hours east of Wichita, that I had never been to before. I must say that I was not too excited about driving that far, but I really wanted to attend, and a couple of friends from school drove out with me.

It turned out to be a beautiful day and a lovely wedding. They had the ceremony out in the park- fairly small and family centered and very, very sweet. The bride's sisters and mother are talented musicians and there were some great musical selections during the service. The groom is a fireman in Chanute, so they had the fire engine there and all the ushers were his friends from the station, in dress uniforms. One of my favorite touches was the ring-bearer, a nephew of the groom who looked to be around 3 or so, who was dressed in a fireman uniform and rode a fire engine wagon (ladders and all) down the center aisle. There was a dinner afterwards which we stayed for, then dancing at the lake under the stars, which we didn't stay for (it was a long drive home.) The bride and groom were extremely happy, as were their families, and it rubbed off on everyone- just a very nice occasion, and I was so glad that I went.

The picture I've posted makes me look like I'm sunburned (which I'm not) and that there's a pipe sticking out of my head (which there isn't), but I'm going to post it anyway. So there!!!

Youth Conference

Thursday, Friday, and Saturday we held the first Wichita/Derby youth conference. We had about 180 youth attending, and I think it's safe to say that it was a huge success. Thursday was devoted to workshops, line dancing instruction, a devotional, a dance, and some time waiting in the hallways for the tornado sirens to stop and the storm to pass.

On Friday, everyone rotated between workshops and playing the "Game For Life", based on the board game. Volunteers from both stakes came to help the youth play. The gym was set up as a giant board game, and the youth went through, graduating from college (or dropping out), getting married, buying cars, arranging insurance, having kids (I think the largest family ended up being 8-9 children), putting kids through school and missions, trying to stay of debt (or not), etc. Unfortunately, it also included a fair number of divorces, car crashes, terminal illnesses, going to jail, children going astray... It was fun to have so many people from the stakes come to interact with the youth, and I think that the kids learned a lot. I heard several people talk about how they wished they had remembered to pay tithing, how expensive they found it to support kids, how useful an education was, how much easier it was to have a spouse to depend on while they were going through the game, how quickly debt accumulates if you're not paying attention, how they noticed that they couldn't take any of the money they had saved up when they died, but they could take blessings and memories.

Friday evening ended with another dance, then on Saturday we all had breakfast together, followed by a testimony meeting. The conference ended up being a tremendous amount of work by a lot of people to put the conference all together, but it was great to see so much cooperation between so many, and to realize that everyone was willing to help- teaching workshops, helping with the game, organizing and providing meals, driving youth back and forth, housing them for the nights... I'm reminded again and again how things work out when we all work together and the Lord is behind it all. I feel absolutely confident that He had his hand in this.

A few pictorial highlights...

Alaskan Cruise Adventure

I had the great opportunity to take a cruise with my parents last week. We met up in Seattle, then cruised up to Juneau, stopping in Sitka, Ketchikan, and Victoria on the way back. I've never done the cruise thing before, and I don't think I would like to have EVERY vacation be a cruise, but I found that I really enjoyed it and would love to do it again some day. It's a completely luxurious way to travel (excellent facilities and service and food), and you can't help but relax with all the planning, cooking, cleaning... taken care of. It was great fun to travel with Mom and Dad (and they were most kind in putting up with me!) and amazing to see some parts of the country that I've never seen before. We had perfect, perfect weather, which only added to the trip. It was a fantastic way to start the summer!

A friend asked me yesterday if I took lots of photos- the answer is yes. But I must qualify that by saying that as I look them over, most of them are of mountains, snow and ice. The landscape and views were absolutely incredible. I've seen snow before, but nothing like this. There's a blueness to the ice that was very unexpected, that the naturalists said is common to glacier ice. Apparently it turns white as it starts to melt. We also saw eagles and whales and mountain goats... that I wasn't able to catch with the camera- I was too busy watching! I've attached some of my favorites.

The Translator

My sister, Christine, recommended this as a pick for the Africa reading challenge. When she described it to me, I imagined it to be a fairly light romance. I was wrong!! But I liked it anyway.

The Translator, by Leila Aboulela, is the story of Sammar, a widow from Sudan, who is currently living in Scotland working as a translator for a professor. Her young son is living with her aunt back in the Sudan. Sammar is a devout Muslim, but falls in love with her employer (who also falls in love with her.) The story revolves about Sammar's challenge of what to do- marry a man that is not of her faith, or leave someone that she loves dearly. I don't want to give away the story, and it's hard to describe without spoilers. It wasn't what I was expecting, and I had a little difficulty getting into the story at first, but Aboulela does an excellent job of balancing out the present day with the past, helping the reader to understand a little more about Sammar. She also does a good job of describing the locales- both in Scotland and in Sudan. And the issue of faith is definitely one worth exploring.

Three Cups of Tea

Our book club's pick this month is Three Cups of Tea, by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin. There's been a lot of buzz about this book (in fact, I first heard about it a few months ago from a woman that was sitting next to me at the mechanic while my car was being serviced.) Three or four different book clubs that I know of have read this in the last couple of months. So, I admit that I was rather skeptical that the book could live up to all the raving about it. Well, I stand corrected, and while I probably won't rave per se, I can say that I'm extremely glad that I read it, and it has made me think a lot.

Three Cups of Tea is the story of Greg Mortenson and his mission to educate children- especially girls- throughout Pakistan and Afghanistan. He believes that education is the key to peace, and as an educator myself, I can say that I believe him. This memoir explains how Mortenson came to begin his work- some of the challenges as well as many of the successes. I was impressed with the way that the book presents Mortenson's mistakes and set backs in addition to the influence and following that he has developed.

The crux of Mortenson's ideal is summed up in a quote that he gave to Parade magazine.

If we try to resolve terrorism with military might and nothing else then we will be no safer than we were before 9/11. If we truly want a legacy of peace for our children, we need to understand that this is a war that will ultimately be won with books, not with bombs.

As I said, I enjoyed this book greatly. It made me want to go out and make the world a better place (I know, I know, it's quite the cliche, but you can't come away from this book without feeling this way!) I'm looking forward to our book club discussion.

Two Old Women

I'm not much into souvenirs, but I love to buy books, and usually when I travel, I purchase books that will remind me of the trip. In three different Alaskan cities that we were in, I was able to stop at independent bookstores and find a number of great books by Alaskan authors or about Alaskan subjects that I brought home with me. For the record, my mom was very willing to stop at every bookstore with me, and even indulged herself, and my dad was most patient in putting up with us!

Two Old Women, by Velma Wallis, is an Athabascan Indian legend retold. During an extremely harsh winter with famine looming, a tribe abandons two of their older women in an effort to save resources. Apparently this was not unheard of. The women learn what they are really made of and find hidden depths of strength and character. I don't want to give it all away, so I won't say more about the story, other than to say that I enjoyed it. The woman at the bookstore promised me a good cathartic cry at the end, and I didn't need quite as much kleenex as I thought I would, but it was fulfilling just the same.

My Family and Other Animals

I've seen this memoir on several "best 100 books ever" lists lately, which made me very curious to read it. No disappointments! My Family and Other Animals is the story of the time the Durrell family spent in Greece. Written by Gerald Durrell and told about his boyhood, it tells about his great family. They leave England because they need a change and want to see the sun. Gerry is the youngest of four children, and has a great love of nature, especially all things living and has quite the talent for bringing home toads, scorpions, water snakes, various and assorted birds... to add to his collection. The way that his mother deals with the chaos is most impressive. Gerry meets all sorts of characters in his wandering and must put up with some tutors that have questionable teaching techniques, but manages to have a wonderful year in spite of it all. This book was great fun- I found myself laughing out loud on several occasions, and is a must read, especially for mothers of boys. One of my favorite passages is in the introduction, and I think it sums up the tone of the book very well.

I should like to pay a special tribute to my mother, to whom this book is dedicated... As my brother Larry rightly points out, we can be proud of the way we have brought her up; she is a credit to us. That she has reached that happy Nirvana where nothing shocks or startles is exemplified by the fact that one weekend recently, when all alone in the house, she was treated to the sudden arrival of a series of crates containing two pelicans, a scarlet ibis, a vulture, and eight monkeys. A lesser mortal might have quailed at such a contigency, but not Mother. On Monday morning I found her in the garage being pursued round and round by an irate pelican which she was trying to feed with sardines from a tin.

"I'm glad you've come, dear," she panted; "this pelican is a little difficult to handle."

When I asked her how she knew the animals belonged to me, she replied, "Well, of course I knew they were yours, dear; who else would send pelicans to me?"

The Ghost Map

Last year I heard Steven Johnson, author of The Ghost Map, interviewed on NPR's Science Friday. His book talks about the London cholera epidemic in 1854, and John Snow's famous epidemiology study to find the cause. This is a story that I've read about- it's in all the microbiology textbooks, and I tell it to my students each year. So, of course I was interested in learning more details about how it all occurred. I asked the library to order it, they did, and I am happy to report that I'm not at all disappointed!

The Ghost Map goes into great detail about the conditions of London of 1854- in particular the casual way that sewage was disposed of and treated (or not treated). Johnson sets the stage for the cholera outbreak and helps us to understand how easily the Broad Street well was contaminated with Vibrio cholerae, the bacteria that causes the disease. The players in the drama are described- including the background of John Snow and Henry Whitehead, two of the principle investigators of the outbreak.

There were a number of things in this book that I thought were especially interesting. One was a discussion of the effects of urbanization. Johnson describes how the shift from rural to urban plays a role in the control of disease. He has a tendency to wax poetic, talking about cities as growing, living organisms, but I think that it is a valid analogy. As people congregate, the way that wasted is eliminated and provisions for clean water all become major concerns.

At the time of the epidemic, the general thought was that disease was caused by miasma, the general "bad air" that would linger in certain neighborhoods. The Ghost Map talks about Snow's idea that contaminated water was the primary source. Snow goes to great length to gather information to back up his theory and convince the city health officials to remove the handle from the Broad Street pump, and thus end the outbreak. He eventually is able to, primarily because the health officials can't seem to find any other alternatives and have to do something- anything- to get things under control. It's interesting, however, to see that the "miasma" theory continues to linger, and it isn't until years later that Snow's theory begins to be widely accepted. I'm constantly reminded that we have certain ways of thinking about things, and it is very difficult to change our paradigm and accept groundbreaking new ideas. It makes me wonder what sorts of things we're missing out on these days! The author describes a number of studies that were done at the time that the miasmatists used as evidence for their theory, and discusses the difference between correllation and cause- communities with bad smelling air WERE the most likely to have outbreaks of disease, but that was a correlation, not a cause. People could look at other factors such as elevation, population, etc., and find similar correlations, which might bring them to believe that disease could be caused by poverty, crowded buildings.... the list goes on and on.

I thought The Ghost Map was well researched and the science itself was described in a pretty clear manner. One passage I particularly liked was the description of fermentation, a process which I try to teach about in a number of different classes, and never comes off quite as clearly as this:

Ironically, the antibacterial properties of beer- and all fermented spirits- originate in the labor of other microbes, thanks to the ancient metabolic strategy of fermentation. Fermenting organisms, like the unicellular yeast fungus used in brewing beer, survive by converting sugars and carbohydrates into ATP, the energy currency of all life. But the process is not entirely clean. In breaking down the molecules, the yeast cells discharge two waste products- carbon dioxide and ethanol. One provides the fizz, the other the buzz. And so in battling the health crisis posed by faulty waste-recycling in human settlements, the proto-farmers unknowingly stumbled across the strategy of consuming the microscopic waste products generated by the fermenters. They drank the waste discharged by yeasts so that they could drink their own waste without dying in mass numbers. They weren't aware of it, of course, but in effect they had domesticated one microbial life-form in order to counter the threat posed by other microbes. The strategy persisted for millennia, as the world's civilizations discovered beer, then wine, then spirits- until tea and coffee arrived to offer comparable protection against disease without employing the services of fermenting microbes.

All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It was a nice combination of history, science, and sociology, and now I'm excited for next year when I can share the rest of the story with my students. It also makes me eternally grateful to live when and where I do- with an abundance of clean water.

My Life in France

I've been in a real mood for memoirs lately, and this was one that I very much enjoyed. I've always been a big Julia Child fan, and have watched as many of The French Chef episodes as I could get from the library and Netflix. I found My Life in France to be a wonderful set of memories from Julia's time in France and her experiences, not only in attending the Cordon Bleu in Paris, but writing her famous cookbooks as well. The book is full of stories about people that she met, food that she ate, places that she visited, her affection for her husband, and I came away feeling like I really got to know her a bit. More than anything, reading this made me want to dig into Mastering the Art of French Cooking and do some experimenting in the kitchen on my own. She truly was a master teacher and I can't think of anyone more passionate about food than she was. One of my favorite lines is from the concluding paragraph of the book.

I tried to structure each recipe as a class. And the great lesson embedded in the book is that no one is born a great cook, one learns by doing. This is my invariable advice to people: Learn how to cook- try new recipes, learn from your mistakes, be fearless, and above all have fun!

Weekly Geeks #1: Discover New Blogs Week

The challenge for this week was to visit five new-to-me blogs and report back... I've enjoyed looking through what everyone else is thinking about and writing about and reading about, and here is my report!

Stephanie, at Confessions of a Book-a-holic, has a great post about the impact of book production on the environment. How many books are produced from each tree? Let's hear it for the library!!

Megan, at Leafing Through Life, posts about a couple of Laurie Halse Anderson books that she's read recently (Speak and Fever 1793). I agree with her enjoyment of both of these books and the two thumbs up for each.

Misa, at This Redhead Reads, posts about a sixth grade read-a-thon. I've never been much into the Danielle Steele thing, but I have fond memories of days spent reading and doing little else (my personal favorite reading hideout used to be my parents' bathtub with my pillow and favorite blanket added to make it a bit more comfy, of course!)

Melanie, at The Indextrious Reader, has posted several entries about poetry and National Poetry Month. I enjoy reading poetry, but am not terribly well read in the genre. Several of her suggestions look exciting, and I've added a number of them to my TBR list.

Wendy, at carabousmom, reviews Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Cookbook. I love reading cookbooks and am an adventurous cook (if not a great one...) and I really enjoyed this book when I found it at the library a couple of months ago. Also, I have complete admiration for anyone who can juggle as many challenges as she is!

There are lots of other blogs that were fun to read through- and my TBR list is growing by the minute. I guess it's a good thing that summer vacation is fast approaching!

Weekly Geeks

I read about a new challenge called Weekly Geeks being hosted at The Hidden Side of a Leaf. Thanks to Melissa at Book Nut for the suggestion! Granted, I probably don't need another challenge, but this one sounds like it would help with blogging suggestions as well as some fun reading suggestions thrown in. Details are available at the link above, but here's the overall deal... There will be a new theme every week, most of them book related, and then you can post comments on the theme and see everyone else's ideas as well. I'm going to give it a try and am looking forward to the fun- as a bit of a geek already, I'm thinking that I'll fit right in!

Napoleon's Buttons

I've been working through Napoleon's Buttons; How 17 Molecules Changed History by Penny Le Couteur and Jay Burreson for quite a while. It is a collection of essays about the role of certain molecules in history and how many of them have altered and shaped our culture. When our library first acquired this book, I started it and loved it, then have had to turn it back in here and there so other people could borrow it, too. I just recently checked it out again to reference it for my Biochemistry class and finished the last two essays. There are many things that I really like about this book. It is written in a very approachable manner, with some great stories that tie well into chemistry. The science is accurate, and they go through a fair amount of chemistry (organic and inorganic) but it is done in a way that is most understandable. The authors address molecules like glucose, silk, salt, nitro compounds, quinine, morphine..... I find that I have used several of the stories in a couple of my different classes, to good effect.

One of my favorite stories, from the chapter on cellulose:

Schonbein was experimenting with mixtures of nitric and sulfuric acids in the kitchen of his home, against the wishes of his wife, who perhaps understandably had strictly forbidden the use of her residence for such activities. On this particular day his wife was out, and Schonbein spilled some of the acid mixture. Anxious to clean up the mess quickly, he grabbed the first thing that came to hand- his wife's cotton apron. He mopped up the spill and then hung the apron over the stove to dry. Before long, with an extremely loud band and a great flash, the apron exploded. How Schonbein's wife reacted when she came home to find her husband continuing his kitchen experiments of cotton and the nitric acid mix is not known...

I gave my brother a copy of this for his birthday last year, and he is currently reading it with his kids (and tells me that they're enjoying it.) I'm in favor of anything that makes chemistry more accessible to everyone, and this book goes a long way to do just that.