The Pity Train has Derailed at the Corner of Suck it Up and Get to Work

Life is made up of moments, small pieces of glittering mica in a long stretch of gray cement. It would be wonderful if they came to us unsummoned, but particularly in lives as busy as the ones most of us lead now, that won’t happen. We have to teach ourselves how to make room for them, to love them, and to live, really live.

Rachel and I had a small pity party last week: heavy on the pity, light on the party.  And while it’s not like us to brood, we did a pretty good job of it.  This probably won’t come as a shock to you if you’re reading this lone post since last week—time is bullying us and clearly winning. No one likes a bully, least of all these two spent girls. We may or may not have imagined that more than half way through our lives we’d be writing in a cottage after a carefree morning helping sun-kissed grand littles build sandcastles at the beach. Or at the very least we’d be touring bookstores in London “for the blog.” Well, we have yet to write with the soothing sounds of ocean in our ears. Big Ben’s chime is barely a memory.

It’s a good thing we’re eternally hopeful.  It’s a good thing we’ve both read Anna Quindlen’s A Short Guide to a Happy Life. Quindlen doesn’t profess to be an expert in discussing the happy life, but her perspective underscores her qualifications.  Her advice is as sage as it is sound: “Get a life in which you are not alone. A real life, not a manic pursuit of the next promotion, the bigger paycheck, the larger house. Do you think you'd care so very much about those things if you blew an aneurysm one afternoon, or found a lump in your breast?  Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love, and who love you. And remember that love is not leisure, it is work. Each time you look at your diploma, remember that you are still a student, still learning how to best treasure your connection to others. Pick up the phone. Send an e-mail. Write a letter. Kiss your Mom. Hug your Dad. Get a life in which you are generous.”  Thank you Anna.  I needed that reminder post pity party.  

So the next time you’re feelin down or need a possibility check (far better than the reality kind), pick up this little treasure that began as a Villanova commencement address. It will only take 15 minutes of your time to feel better and aright.  If you put a high a premium on perspective, you’ll go back to this one over and over again.

Posted by Tracy

A Bouquet of Books

A book is a gift you can open again and again. —Garrison Keillor

My friend Ramona with her Bouquet of Books for Mother's Day.

I got a Swiffer for Mother’s day.  A Swiffer, I said!  Who thinks my daughter (who does not read this blog) was sending me a message? A horrible, terrible, no good, very bad message. I did order myself two new books that she wrapped up and placed neatly next to the household cleaning product that will “revolutionize the way I clean.” Books and a pair of Frye sneakers rescued me from I-Got-Cleaning-Productitis for Mother’s Day. I can’t say enough about the redeeming power of good reads.

While I try never to play the envy game, I have a good friend who gives his lovely and bright wife Ramona a bouquet of books for Mother’s Day—oh, what I wouldn’t give for an awesome spray o’ paperbacks! Not just any paperbacks either, one homerun after another. He delivered big time this year with the following arrangement: Wonder, A Man Called Ove, The Invention of Wings, The Pearl that Broke Its Shell and one I’d never heard of, Ready Player One. I cannot applaud the man loudly enough.  So the next time you’re stumped about what to give your mother, sister, bestie, or brother with a passion for publications, go for a posy of paperbacks.  They’re bound to bring you bunches of praise.  Can I get a hear, hear?

Posted by Tracy

Weekly Wrap-Up

At that moment we knew that as long as we used our brains, we were not victims. By striking out to write our own ticket, we would grow up to be like our mother, winners. —Terry Ryan

WHAT WE LOVE THIS WEEK

Moms. Seriously, we're big fans...of our own mothers and being moms ourselves. If we were the pulled-together bloggers we've never professed to be, we'd have posted fabulous gift ideas a week or two ago in honor of tomorrow's love your mama day. Sigh. Can't blame this one on the intern either; he dutifully sent helpful links weeks ago. For those of you as time-challenged as we are, here are a few last minute gift ideas from the list our mighty intern scrounged up for us: Who wouldn't love one of these darling bookmarks from Anthropologie? Or these coasters? Cement your status as favorite by giving your mom a first edition of Pride and Prejudice. Best. Gift. Ever.

We're loving Goodread's list of favorite book moms and their words of wisdom. Did your favorite fictional mom make the cut? We'd add Charlie Kate and Sophia from Charms for the Easy Life.  I'm sure there are others we'd add that I'll think of immediately after posting this...

Two memoirs we love with beautiful tributes to their moms are All Over but the Shoutin' (see Tracy's review here) and The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio.

Want to instantly feel better either about your mom or your own mothering skills? Read one of these: The Glass Castle, The Help, or Tender at the Bone.

Posted by Rachel

Finding Joy in the Ordinary

"Ms. Silver and the great nation of China might think that this is the Year of the Rabbit," said Papa. "But I know—and I know everything—that this is the year of Billy Miller." 

I’m watching basketball when I should be blogging—Golden State has me under a hypnotic spell.  If I’m being honest, it’s the year of Steph Curry much more so than The Year of Billy Miller. The boys and I finished Kevin Henkes' 2014 Newberry Honor Book last night.  Billy was endearing, but I closed the cover somewhat surprised by the accolades bestowed on a book that felt fairly common.  Maybe that was the point? Maybe quiet common lives are something to behold nowadays. I know I’d stop and stare at vanilla right about now. 

Nothing extraordinary takes place in Henkes’ pages, but there is substance to his story.  It’s about a somewhat progressive family and the ordinary moments that can inspire a smile. Clearly, the Millers have carved a path leading to functionality and family love. When Billy read his poem to his mother, I was reminded of Oliver reciting his tribute to Bill Murray in St. Vincent.  The boys liked Billy Miller, so I liked Billy Miller. But, if I had my druthers, I’d choose a better Henkes’ selection...and there are lots of them.    

Posted by Tracy

I'm Late

Punctuality is the virtue of the bored. —Evelyn Waugh

Ah, Evelyn. We would have gotten on swimmingly. Punctuality and I are loose acquaintances at best—some would argue (my husband among them)—perfect strangers. My copy of April's book club selection is due to arrive today...on the last day of the month. Combine that with the fact I've yet to review last month's pick and I'm on a roll of tardiness. Best of all? I told Tracy I'd post this yesterday, so even my post about being late is late. Luckily for me, when it comes to punctuality, or lack thereof, she and I are simpatico. Just one more reason to love her.

You may have noticed by now that I'm in a constant state of pulling myself together. Here's how you can help (thank you in advance): Let's all just pretend Girl at War was our April pick and The Princess Bride will be our May selection. Which effectively makes me early. The bonus for you? You can say you've done your good deed for the day. Rest assured, we've already chosen June's book and will announce it mid-May, like normal, pulled-together bloggers. Baby steps.

Posted by Rachel

Tender Surrender

I am yours now, and you are mine and together we'll love through all space & time. —Prince

I never had the notion of loving Prince by halves.  Yes, I’m talking about Prince today because it will help me work around this heavy cloud of disbelief.  Like books, music makes life more rich. Maybe Mr. Nietzsche said it better: “Without music, life would be a mistake.”  (Leave it to Friedrich to fan the dramatic.)  And Prince’s music was, well, more electric and soulful than anyone else’s. There are no adequate labels for Prince.  John Mayer called him, “the greatest pop musician whoever lived.”  Sorry John, that feels remarkably lackluster. I heart Huckabee’s admission that His Royal Badness defies all description in this worthy read.

The artists that I adore are the ones who appear to be good people too—that look well beyond their star-studded selves.  So when I hear that the High Priest of Pop saved a library, I get all warm and fuzzy inside.  Louisville’s historic Western Branch Library was in danger of closing their doors after nearly a century due to financial troubles. I’m sure Prince was particularly interested in saving those stacks since it was the first full-service library in the U.S. to serve African Americans exclusively.  And save it he did.  He made a generous donation to alleviate Western’s financial burden.  What’s even better, Prince donated to the literary cause anonymously.  “He didn’t want people to know.  He just wanted to do the right thing without a lot of fanfare and accolades,” a former library employee explained.  Can you say my kinda guy?  

So, in honor of Prince Rogers Nelson, here are a few reads that should remind us fondly of The Purple One.

The Color Purple by Alice Walker

Prince would be proud of me for choosing this epistolary novel about “how love transforms and cruelty disfigures the human spirit.”  This Pulitzer Prize winner is a must read about one woman’s ability to survive, to let go, and ultimately, to love.

Harold and the Purple Crayon by Crockett Johnson

Everyone should read Harold and the Purple Crayon.  Everyone. His story is as appealing as it is rich. Each time I pick this prize up, I’m back under Harold’s spell—a long-time classic for plenty of great reasons.

Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse by Kevin Henkes

Caldecott winner Kevin Henkes has personality and it shows. So it’s not surprising that an enthusiastic mouse named Lilly grabs the heart.  She shines in her movie-star glasses, with her eccentric accessories that jingle and play jaunty tunes.  Something tells me she and the Prince of Funk would get along fabulously—God rest his passionate soul.

Posted by Tracy

Weekly Wrap-Up

How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a weary world. —William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice

WHAT WE LOVE THIS WEEK

"I sold your Shakespeare for sixty bucks," he said. "You're dead to me," I said back. And thus began the end of our relationship. I mean, really. If you don't know me well enough after four months of dating to know I'd never part with my Riverside Shakespeare—chock-full of meticulously hand-written notes from one of my favorite classes at BYU with Shakespeare guru, Professor Bruce Young—then you are not paying attention. To be fair, dear reader, lest you think me harsh, it wasn't so much the selling that sealed the deal (he was just trying to be helpful), it was the unapologetic disbelief with which he accused me of overreacting. His name was Robert...something. The trauma of it all has effectively wiped his name from my memory.

Unlike Robert Something, The Bard is unforgettable, and today marks the 400th anniversary of his death. London, of course, is celebrating #ShakespeareWeek in a big way.

Here's what a Shakespeare Yelp review would look like.

Time to brush up on The Bard and not sure which play to read first? Goodreads's got your back.

While nothing can replace my marked up Riverside Shakespeare, this edition is lovely.

Not to rob Will of his due, but have you ever seen a cuter scene stealer

File this under things we didn't love this week: the passing of Prince. This is the message Tracy left on my voicemail: "Prince is dead and I'm in a puddle." She's officially in mourning, which for Tray means she's burned a CD of his best and will listen to nothing else for the next two weeks. #truefan

COMING NEXT WEEK

A review of Girl at War. Finally.

Posted by Rachel