“George, do you think we can afford to go out to dinner and maybe take in a show? Will that be too expensive?”
“Why, Martha. The expense of going out on the town with my best girl is chicken feed. Grab your hat, darling, and let’s skeddadle downtown.”
George and Martha probably enjoyed their night out because more than likely George, being a generous fellow, had made his fortune and a spending money mattered no longer to him. In fact, a few dollars was a mere pittance, like tossing crumbs to the birds.
And that’s exactly where the expression “chicken feed” comes from–tossing small bits out at a time. Chickens don’t have the capacity to chew up their food (ever see a chicken smile?) and must peck at small amounts. Apply that idea to money and chicken feed means a small amount of spending, not enough to worry or get choked up over.
image: thedo.gs not your average chicken
“Martha, are you going to be able to get that spot of gravy out of my tie? I have to look sharp for tomorrow’s presentation.”
“No worries, George. I’ll get it clean as a whistle.”
I doubt Martha was whistling was she worked on George’s tie. Honestly, George, don’t you know gravy is just looking for the opp to drip on ties?
As for the expression “clean as whistle”, this one is pretty much as it sounds (sorry, the pun overcame the keyboard). About the time of Huck Finn and company, boys would find reeds and poke holes in them to make their whistles. The cleaner the reed, the cleaner or clearer the sound.
Returning school goes beyond getting back into a routine because it means I also have to make adjustments to my practicing for retirement. No more rolling over and going back to sleep, no more schlepping around in jammies, no more naps, no more odd eating hours, or meals for that matter. And worst of all, no more diving into books for an entire day and barely coming up for air. Responsible English teachers don’t partake in any of the above behaviors. At least not during the school year. Yet, summer vacation does allow me to practice the art of retirement and one of those skills is thoroughly enjoying a really good read. I was fortunate this year and enjoyed more than my usual share of good reads:
All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
Breathtaking in its flow and style, I absolutely devoured Doerr’s novel about two lost children. Set in WWII, Doerr portrays the war in a way I’ve not encountered before. One perspective is through the blind eyes of Marie, a young French girl whose indomitable spirit carries her beyond the war’s cruelties. The other perspective is that of Werner, a German youth whose talents land him in the Hitler Youth. The parallel stories eventually telescope down to a satisfying denouement. Doerr, already an award-winning author, will do doubt increase his presence with this amazing tale of how the spirit can overcome its surroundings.
Mr. Penumbra’s 24 Hour Book Store by Robin Sloan
Sometimes I simply have to take a break from the pedantic pace of classics, or step away from serious literary excursions. Mr. Penumbra helped me to once again find the wit in wordsmithing. This foray into classic literature name dropping reminds me of Jasper Fford’s Thursday Next series, which is a delight in how it metafictionally pokes fun at how serious we tend to take our literature. Robin Sloan not only lovingly jabs at academia, he embraces our wanderings over to the dark side of technology via Google (those villains). Yet, bad guys (technology) aren’t so bad, once you understand them, and often they prove helpful overall because they are just misunderstood.
Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro
My first introduction to Ishiguro and of the three novels I read of his over the summer, this one is certainly the best in my opinion. The voice of nationalistic pride and misguided directive is so artfully penned in this memoir of a proper English butler. The bonus being how well the film adaptation captured the slow realization of how corrupted Steven’s outlook was after all.
The Mockingbird Next Door by Marja Mills
As a TKAM devotee I jumped on ordering Mills’s account of her time with Harper Lee faster than freckles popping out during a July heat wave. Lee has become such a recluse over the years it has been feared this national treasure will leave little behind in way of knowing who she really was. Fortunately Marja Mills went beyond her journalistic assignment and got to know Harper Lee as friend and neighbor allowing fans and readers a delightful glimpse into what Scout might have been like in the real.
The Push Cart War by Jean Merrill
This cannot possibly be a kids’ book! The wit is droll in delivery and its lampooning so adroit I don’t see how children could appreciate it fully. Maybe I’m only bereft in my opinion since I missed this one growing up. I think I got sidelined by Encyclopedia Brown. Just like The Phantom Tollbooth or Alice in Wonderland is not strictly for children, neither is Merrill’s classic. I’m ever so glad I found it and I made up for lost time.
image: Wikipedia
One Whole and Perfect Day by Judith Clarke. A Printz Honor Award
YA reads are hit and miss for me. There tend to be riveting and noteworthy like Hunger Games and Divergent or fall into high school drama–been there done that and see it everyday. Now and then I do get to pick up a YA which should be in what I call the YA+ category, meaning it’s more towards literary then temporal contemporary (I think it has lasting merit, not trendy, and an adult shouldn’t be embarrassed reading it). Clarke’s novel concerning a girl’s desire to have one day where her family is not dysfunctional fills that YA+ bill. Set in Australia, Lily does indeed have an odd family and what is even more odd is Clarke’s approach to the Point of View–it’s omnipotent, which has fallen out of favor. With almost Dickensian flair for characters and situations, Clarke provides a plot that slowly builds to the becoming a whole and perfect story–pretty nearly.
What’s really the wonder of these summer reads is that they were all recommends found on blogs I perused. Following other Book Boosters definitely has its benefits and I no longer have to forlornly drift the stacks hoping to uncover the newest hot read or find a lost treasure.
How about you? Any really good reads found and savored over the summer? Any great recommends discovered while catching up on your blogs?
Perhaps it’s because I’m basically an old-fashioned kind of girl that I tend to toss out old phrases like “don’t count your chickens,” “look before you leap,” along with one of my catch alls: “six of one, half dozen of another.” I tend to add that one in when there is a stalemate to a discussion. I can see there is more than one way to approach a matter so for argument’s sake I acknowledge we agree to disagree.
I then realized there truly is a different way to see and do a lot of things which can head up some fairly heated debates. For instance:
Storing glasses: rim down or rim up in the cupboard?
Shoes and socks: put socks on first and then shoes or one sock one shoe one at a time?
Chilled water: store water in the fridge or water and cubes as needed?
Bedsheets: pattern down or pattern up?
Swimming: dash in or bit by bit?
And the age old toilet paper controversy
Over or under: click here for the definitive debate
Can you add your own “see it two ways” to the list?
Now and then I try to squeeze in volunteer time at the library by shelving a cart or two of books. Having worked at a couple of libraries I can do the Dewey sufficiently well. In the future I should remember that the reason the non-fiction juvenile cart is up for grabs is because it takes a loooong time to do. I will have to say that it does involve quite a bit of aerobics stretching from whales to the Star Wars cookbook.
Besides the getting some calisthenics in and helping out the library, I volunteer shelve because I find all sorts of treasures for myself. And because I am on my own clock now I don’t suffer the guilt (and rebuke from my supervisor and coworkers) when browsing. Okay, I do feel a little bit of guilt.
Here are some of the treasures I’ve discovered:
The Good, the Bad, the Barbie by Tanya Lee Stone
Being a Boomer girl I had quite the Barbie collection. I even had the one in the zebra one piece. Had Midge, Skipper, Ken complete with a kitchen set and canopy bedroom ensemble. Oh, yes, I do wish I still had them. No, not because I’m a Barbie fan, but I’m sure my retirement account would have been a bit healthier because there are LOTS of Barbie fans out there.
Lincoln Lawyer (this was a series before the movie!)
Limitless–having watched the movie I was intrigued enough to read the book. Go with the movie.
Monk? based on the series? How could a book do him justice?
Deadly Pursuit–a Christian thriller mystery? I’m game. Toss it on the TBR list.
I also made some observations:
If I look like I know what I’m doing people will think I do know something. I felt really, really good about helping a patron find a book she wanted. We didn’t find it but I gave her information how to place a hold or a search for the title.
I had no idea how prolific Christie, Cussler, Jance, Patterson are as authors until faced with trying to alphabetize their numerous titles. SIDENOTE: I found out it’s okay to get the titles in place by author (you know how that’s dratted patrons just mix them up anyway–wait, I’m a dratted patron).
People really do read Melville’s Moby Dick.
And To Kill a Mockingbird still rocks the shelves! Big yeah on this one.
So don’t be shy, trot right on down to your friendly local neighborhood library and see about volunteering for shelving. You’ll feel good, the library folk will be happy, and you’ll have an even fatter TBR list.
I glanced at the numbers clicking away the miles, rhythmically measuring off the coveted roll over. I envisioned the possibilities: fireworks, though it’d be daytime, a serendipitous cavalcade of singers and dancers ala Doris Day:
or at least the significant Beethoven four beat–da da da dum. None of these happen as I turn into my driveway. I am three miles shy of my goal. My anticipated day of Shazzam will not be happening today.
A bit dramatic, I know, but ever I was a little kid I held great significance in the reckoning of the great roll over. It only happens once in the lifetime, at least I have only witnessed it once. And it happened today. And I almost missed it. This is way the MEPA, the Most Excellent Personal Assistant, is valued beyond belief. He noticed the momentous occasion on the way to obtain yogurt and fresh bananas:
“Look, Hon–it turns over in one mile.”
“What?! Ack, I almost missed it.”
Fumbling for my iPhone I quickly recorded the event. Blurry, yes; however, it is recorded for always and forever.
What about you? Have you owned a car long enough to record the reckoning of the rollover?
My parents traded out cars regularly every five or so years (part of the old American dream, you know), so I never actually witnessed the event, although my kidmagination just assumed something significant happened at 100,000 miles–a second chance perhaps? All fibs erased? A sharper remembrance for the eights of the multiplication table? Something. I knew something had to happen.
Of course something had happened: I have saved $20,000 because I replaced the timing belt instead of buying a new Honda. I can’t wait for the next ($)100,000 miles and what it will have in store.
This set of 100,000 has seen the progeny through driver’s ed and high school graduation, trips to visit the grandkiddo, jaunts to do book research, vacation wanderings, Sunday drive escapes, and has ushered us into glad tidings of empty nestering. New car? No, not yet. This one still has a few more memories to accumulate.
My latest spotlight is on another blogger whom I’ve exchanged commentaries since the beginning of my blogging foray.
In his own words:
Everyone calls me Ste J. I am an obsessive book creature, in fact I spend more time between the (book) covers (I read in bed as well though) than I do with ‘real’ people.
Which means I probably spend more time with you guys than anyone else. Feel privileged.
Ste J is a bona fide bibliophiliac. He loves books. That’s a bonafide fact. Proof: he once read 100 books in 362 days, just to see if he could do it. His blog is neatly organized into genre and with a mere click, a person can investigate reviews and titles. His tastes are eclectic, his insights meaningful, and his replies clever.
Lately, his posts have wandered a bit off the original track of being primarily bookish in content and he writes on whim. I can relate. I too have strayed from my original intent of providing astute book reviews that would dazzle and benefit bookdom and have taken to writing as serendipity taps the muse.
So, I hope you will check out Book to the Future and meet the intrepid Ste J, where as his banner states “more book than a mad ‘orse.”
Lately I’ve been noticing more and more products are sporting bits of wisdom as part of the package.
The first notice came with my occasional binges on Dove Dark Chocolate Bites. It took me a wrapper or two to realize pithy little “promises” hid within. For instance, “Encourage Your Sense of Daring” and “Smile Before Bed. You’ll Sleep Better” are two gems. I started calling these my chocolate fortune cookies and began collecting them. If you are trying to cut down on chocolate–I know I need to– *GaSp* did I really just say that?–you can unwrap a few calorie free promises at https://www.dovechocolate.com/epromise.
Recently I discovered Honest Tea and upon popping open the cap I found some great quotes. What I really like is the variety:
“Now I know the secret of making the best persons; it is grow in the open air and eat and sleep with the earth.”–Walt Whitman
“Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds.”–Albert Einstein
“The truth is a beautiful and terrible things, and should therefore be treated with caution.”–J.K. Rowling
“The world is moved along not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker.”–Helen Keller
“A common mistake people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools.”–Douglas Noel Adams
“In order to a realist you must believe in miracles.”–David Ben-Gurion
“You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt.” –Samuel Ullman
Finding bits of wisdom on drink caps probably isn’t too unusual, after all you can often find prizes and such depending on the drink. But what really surprised me was finding “A Pep Talk in Every Drop” as I popped a cough drop. I’m not much in the habit of caring about getting inspired when my throat’s scratchy. Although it probably isn’t so bad to make people feel good when they are feeling bad. Would these words cheer you up once your cough in under control:
“March forward!” “Keep your chin up.” “Now you get it in you.” “Elicit a few “wows” today.”
I think when I’m done teachering I will look into wrangling up a job for some company supplying these pity bits of wisdom. Hmm, I wonder how I find that listing at Linked In–“Wisdom generator available–light and deep bits created upon request.”
“Person X, soon to have a birthday, realizes this birthday will be the same chronological year as the birth year. Person X also realizes the birth year and achieved age are flipped numbers of the year of high school graduation. Given the birth year, chronological age, and graduation year, how old is Person X.”
I think I had this math problem in my eighth grade textbook. This is probably why I decided to major in English.
But it’s true: I realized something unique about this year’s birthday–I shall turn the age of my birth year, at least the last two digits. When I compute that in my brain it sounds like I’m much older than I really am. What it comes down to is this:
I’m not sure how I feel about this particular chronos marking.
I’m not old enough to retire, although some establishments elect to grant me a discount.
I’m past AARP’s initial invitation.
I’m old enough to know better, yet still have the gumption to still give it a whirl. Then again, it depends on the “it.” Bungee-jumping requires a deeper consideration these days as does the all you can eat buffet.
I can remember the “when I was”, although I am amazed at how long ago the when truly was, plus some of the details are fuzzy.
I no longer look forward to birthday cake because I only see calories laughing at me under all those candles.
Speaking of candles, the little skinny invids have been replaced by the fat doubles. I find this an insulting truism of my present state of figure.
My mother raised me thinking birthdays were really extra special. Part of that reasoning stems from waking up and seeing flags hanging up all over town and in front of everyone’s house. I never questioned my mother’s ability to achieve this. She was that kind of mother. It wasn’t until I turned about twelve that I learned June 14th signified Flag Day and hanging out the flag was expected. Please no comments about my naiveté or lack of American holiday knowledge. It wasn’t until I became an adult that I discovered another disenchantment–birthdays are only really a big deal up until the age of 21.
The Dr. knows how to make the special day special!
All the big deal birthday milestones take place in this order:
1. turning one: not too cognizant but it’s a big deal nonetheless
2. turning five: Yay! Go to school!
3. turning ten: Wow! double-digit
4. turning thirteen: All right! Teen Time
5. turning sixteen: Yes, I’m gonna drive my car
6. turning eighteen: Yay! Get out of school! Oh yeah–vote for important stuff too.
7. turning twenty-one: Omigosh! I’m considered an adult–all kinds of perks.
After twenty-one there are some milestones to consider such as thirty, forty, fifty–okay, I’ll stop there. All those in between and beyond years are rather tedious and accumulative. Yes, it is nice to get cards and presents, and okay, one small piece of cake. The wake up to ME day (check out the Dr. Seuss book) isn’t happening anymore. Is that sad or a state of reality?
For instance, instead of relaxing and trying to encourage the Queen for a Day mode, I allowed myself to get talked into proctoring for the ACT–funny how extra money is a motivator when the car is acting up. This is not how I envision the first part of my birthday. Lounging in bed definitely was part of that vision. Oh well, I don’t sleep past 7am anyway.
The MEPA assured me the rest of the day will proceed better. A muttered “kidnapping” floated my way. I’m not sure if this is a threat or a promise.
How do the rest of you spend your birthdays? Are they still big deals or just a tick on the age stick?
When I return to school on Monday I will return to countdown week. Every day is finals, which means every day is closer to school ending. Pause… How do I feel about that? Umm, isn’t this what I’ve been waiting for all year? Okay, maybe not all year, but pretty close to it.
The year started out with surprises:
1. New technology. Learn now. You didn’t get the memo?
2. We moved the Senior Project up one month. Sorry, we forgot to send the memo.
3. Two classes have 30 students, while one has 14. Maybe I should send a memo.
4. Common Core Standards implementation–no one counted on month long testing. Forget memos–stock up on Tums.
Those were not the nicer surprises, although I did have a few of those as well:
1. “You’re my favorite teacher!” one of my special ed students reminds me every class.
2. All AP students stuck it out and didn’t transfer when the going got tough.
3. I received a glossing 8×10 photo of the “Three Hubri” decked out in their prom finery.
4. More freshmen passed than failed first semester this year.
The end of the year always surprises me when it arrives. I can’t wait for summer to start, yet there is still so much I want to teach my students. Unfortunately, they too want summer to start and their brains are beginning to resist anymore knowledge bits that try to drift in past their deflector shields.
The open road tends to beckon when twenty something. That yearning to travel starts young and bubbles up in the teens, often erupting into a boil up upon achieving graduation.
Where to go? Europe, Australia, explore the continental USA–all possibilities.
I was fortunate to travel to Europe when a mere 21, spending the entire summer in Bavaria visiting family, experiencing Deutschland like a native.
No, I did not go total native when visiting Bavaria
Even though I had family around, comforts, experiences, even fabulous doses of chocolate, I was incredibly homesick. Good thing I discovered early my penchant towards being a homebody. I have yet to renew my passport.
From time to time I do wonder what it would be like to see more sights than I have.
For instance, I recently attended a conference and inevitably we shared a bit about our lives. When I hear how some people have been all over the globe and they are barely dipping into their thirties, I reflect as to whether I’ve missed something. Part of me wonders what it would have been like to live in Paris, go to school in England, backpack in Europe, live in Melbourne. And then I drift away from the postcard daydreams and realize some are born to travel and some are born to stay home. Dorothy and I got that RubyRed Slipper thang down–we know there is no place like home *click click*
Because being ever so cool–I want those transporter powers of the Ruby Reds image: http://www.ladymirror.com
I derive great enjoyment and satisfaction from cozying up in my little house. Got my wood-stove for winter, hammock for summer, my recliner couch and remote control, my pillow top bed, choice of clothing, eats, whatever I need. Truly there is no place like home.
Sure it’s nice to get a change of scenery now and then. For instance, that conference I attended? What a tonic to meet new people, exchange new ideas, and explore new places. However, after the second day, I couldn’t wait to get back home. I will not be joining the corp of retired teachers of RVing around, skipping from one sunny spot to another. Okay, maybe taking off January and February is a possibility. Living in the land of snow and ice can’t always be remedied by the wood-stove and a stack of good books.
So, me, Dorothy, and Toto all agree that there are some mighty cool sights somewhere over the rainbow, but after it’s all said and done, there really is no place like home.
Pam Webb 