What We Do When It Snows

Have I mentioned the 14 inches of snow Salt Lake received last weekend? Oh, I have? Twice already? Well, let's make it three.

Last Saturday, it snowed steadily for almost the whole day - great, wet, fluffy flakes that clung heavily to every tree branch and laid gently on the ground. I am not a snow fan, unless I can stay cozied up inside and just admire the beauty of it from my window. But last Saturday, I did not want to stay inside because our local bookstore (The King's English) was hosting Caralyn and Mark Buehner for a book signing. So I bundled up all three boys, and we trekked our way through the untouched white.

(As a side note, our neighbors are die-hard cyclists. On Saturday, Mike noticed them loading up their bikes and heading off to a (outdoor) race. Mike and I kind of joked about how dedicated and crazy-obsessive they are about their hobby until I pointed out that I was leaving the house for a book signing, of all things. Okay, okay, it's not the same as cycling outside in the snow, but if you know how much I dislike the cold and wet, you will still recognize it as sacrificing for something I love.)

Anyway, the snow kept a lot of people away, and there were only nine other people at the signing. Bad news probably for the Buehners but great for us.

Mark and Caralyn Buehner are the husband and wife co-creators of Snowmen at Christmas (one of our all-time favorite stories), as well as dozens of other books (including Wittilda, which I talked about a few weeks ago). Their latest book, Snowmen at Work, just came out, and it is a delight.

The Buehners were so fun. Mark began by showing the process he goes through when drafting the illustrations for a book. He will often draw the same picture from many different angles and vantage points before settling on the one he likes best. He showed the kids what a giant would look like from a duck's point of view and a duck from a giant's point of view. Then, because there were so few kids there, each one got to choose an animal for him draw. Aaron chose an alligator, and Max chose a dragon.

Then Caralyn read and talked about all four Snowmen books. I always love hearing any stories behind the story, and it was especially fun with the Buehners since they are from Salt Lake City, so many of the illustrations are inspired by things right in our very own neighborhood. Caralyn also pointed out which illustrations are her favorite, and I loved hearing her speak so fondly of her husband's talent.

The brand-new Snowmen at Work is adorable. It begins one winter morning when a boy wakes up to find that it has snowed during the night but that all the walks are miraculously free of snow. No one is around...the snowman he made the day before. Did he shovel the sidewalk? He begins to imagine all the possible jobs the snowmen might have while all the people are sleeping. The illustrations are full of lots of fun details. My favorite snowman job is the librarian, and if you look really closely, you can read titles on almost all of the book spines. All of them have something to do with snow or cold. (Caralyn specifically mentioned how Mark worked with a magnifying glass and painstakingly added on the tiny words...she also mentioned how much fun he had thinking up all the titles.)

This would be a great book to use if you wanted to explore different grown-up jobs: there's a dentist (that one is a really funny picture), a mechanic, a pizza delivery snowman, a store clerk, and several more. One of the things I  love about Mark Buehner's illustrations are all the hidden pictures...so it reads like a story, but then you can go back and spend hours (okay, maybe not hours) finding all the hidden objects, so in that sense it kind of doubles as an activity book. Also, I have decided that no one else can draw Christmas lights as well as Mark Buehner. They kind of mesmerize me and make me happy.

I promised Mike that we were just going to the bookstore to listen to the Buehners, not to buy any books. But once we were there, and we were having such a fun time listening to them and the new book was so cute, well, I just couldn't help myself. (And it wasn't an "I solemnly promise" kind of promise; it was more like, "Don't worry, I'm not going to buy anything" kind of promise. Mike should know me well enough to know that some promises are impossible to keep unless I just stay away completely). Anyway, so we bought Snowmen at Work, and I'm so glad we did because it gives us something tangible to hold onto so we can remember the fun we had. Plus, we got it signed. Plus, we really like the book and have read it again and again already.

Oh, but do you want to know what the best part of the morning was for me? Remember the pictures Mark Buehner drew for each of the kids? Well, they got to take them home! I don't know why, but this just thrilled me: a real artist drew a picture for my son, and he got to keep it! We are going to frame them and put them up by their beds.

Aaron's alligator

Maxwell's dragon (If you look really closely at the library picture from above, you'll notice that the dragon in the book the librarian is holding looks strikingly similar to this one.)

Even if the snow cut down on the number of people who came, I thought it was so appropriate to have snow for the newest Snowmen book. We are so glad we got to meet the Buehners.

This post is linked up to The Children's Bookshelf.

Vote for Edenbrooke!

UPDATE: Edenbrooke made it into the final round!!! I am so excited about this! Go vote for it one last time here.

If you're on Goodreads (and if you're not, come on...what are you waiting for?!), you've maybe noticed the announcements for the Goodreads Choice Awards. This is an annual event where readers have the opportunity to vote for their favorite books of the year. There are 20 categories, and many of my favorite books have made it into the semi-final round. I have voted, but the only category that I really have any strong feelings about is the romance category.

That is because Edenbrooke, one of my very, very favorite novels from this year is on the list! And I desperately want it to make it to the final round. Why? Not just because it is a great book (even though it is), and not just because Julianne Donaldson is a local author AND we were in the same ward for a short time (but she is, and we were), but mainly because I just find it so AWESOME that her book is in the top 20 ROMANCES of the year. Amid all of the other sleezy and vulgar titles, there stands Edenbrooke, beautiful and lovely and clean. I wish there were more books like this one out there, and I want her to make it to the final round, so maybe some authors will take a second look at the romance category and see that not everyone wants all of the graphic, sexually explicit scenes that are the norm for the romance genre.

So, if you have a mind to support really good, clean literature, can I beg you to go vote for Edenbrooke? (Just shield your eyes against some of the other offensive covers!) The voting for the semi-final round ends today, so click over there NOW.

(And, um, no, it probably looks like it, but this post was not sponsored by Julianne Donaldson.)

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

I almost don't want to write this review. I have been lost in the world of Manderley, submersed in writing that was so perfect, I fear that if I breathe any of my clumsy words or awkward sentences onto the book, it will break the spell and the story will be ruined.

However, one of the main reasons I love writing reviews is because it captures the story for me. When I read my old reviews, it sparks memories that I'd forgotten, and I remember details of the book that otherwise would have faded irretrievably away.

And so, I will try to explain why reading Rebecca was one of the best reading experiences I've ever had. I make no promises about not alluding to any important plot details, so if you haven't read this book, then skip this review; instead, go get the book. Part of the magic and intrigue of the story for me was that I knew very little about the storyline before reading. The plot unfolded just as it was intended...creeping quietly with a slow intensity that was both frightening and captivating.

The story is narrated by Maxim de Winter's second wife. We never learn her name. His first wife, Rebecca, supposedly drowned in a terrible storm. She was very much-loved and is sorely missed by all who knew her. Maxim does not speak of her often, but the narrator feels her presence everywhere...in the gardens, at the writing desk, even when she puts on an old, forgotten raincoat. She tries to handle the menu and the daily routine and the social obligations like Rebecca, but she knows she is nothing like Rebbecca and finds it so oppressive to live in someone else's shadow...

As I am sitting here writing this, I am flipping through a copy of the book. It doesn't matter which page I turn to, as soon as I begin reading, I am once more engrossed in the story, and I don't want to stop. I actually listened to an audio version of the book, but reading passages here and there right now makes me realize that I will love it in print just as much as I loved listening to it. I wish I could put my finger on why it is so good. Something about the balance between narration and dialogue and description, and also between past and present and future, and also between reality and fantasy is just so perfect. It's the momentum of being pushed forward and then abruptly tugged backward. I'm feeling frustrated trying to find a way to describe it...I keep thinking of the word "atmospheric," but it's something else, too. Something more.

One of the elements of the writing that I loved and that's a little easier to pinpoint is the way the narrator envisions and describes the possible conversations or actions of strangers.  For example, the night of the fancy dress ball, she sees two gardeners outside. As they walk away, she is suddenly lost in thought and imagines what they will say that evening when the festivities are over. Sometimes it's not conversations she's thinking of but alternate events in the past. For example, when she sits at Rebecca's writing desk for the first time, she opens a drawer at random and suddenly feels as though she is merely a house guest and has been given permission to use the desk only to be caught snooping through its contents. Sometimes the flashbacks are real, and we catch a glimpse of the narrator's personality by visiting a scene from her past. In all cases, these types of reminiscences and imaginings are so vivid and alluring so that when the narrator is abruptly and sometimes startlingly brought back to the present, as the reader, you are, too. You feel guilty and embarrassed for getting lost in thought even though you weren't really lost in thought but instead just lost in amazing writing.

Besides the writing itself, the story has some really gripping, white-knuckle moments. There was one evening when I was listening to it, and Mike was at school, but he came home earlier than I was expecting, right as I was in the middle of a very intense scene. I wanted to talk to him, but it was agony to pull myself away. Only for him.

Now, just a brief word on the audio. The edition I listened to was narrated by Anna Massey. She was fabulous...absolutely, completely fabulous. It's funny because for the first ten minutes, I thought her voice was going to irritate me...something about the way she rolled a few of her R's. But after the initial adjustment, I loved everything about her performance...especially the way she did the fictitious conversations and flashbacks that I described above. I can't speak for other narrations, but I can definitely recommend this one.

I have read a lot of good books this year. In fact, it's been one of the best years in reading I've ever had. I tell you this so that when I say Rebecca is the best book I read in 2012, and definitely among my favorites of all time, you will know just how much I absolutely loved it.

Aaron's Preschool: Fall and Leaves

Never mind the 14 inches of snow on the ground. When I hosted preschool last week, we were enjoying the most beautiful kind of fall weather. And I wanted to take full advantage of it.

I used Red Leaf, Yellow Leaf by Lois Ehlert for inspiration. The book follows a sugar maple tree from seed to mature autumn beauty. I love Lois Ehlert (particularly Eating the Alphabet), but I felt this one was a little abstract at times. I love that it shows a tree in all its various stages, but some of the illustrations zoom in and crop out too much of the big picture. For example, when the tree has grown enough to be purchased and planted in the narrator's yard, the tree's roots are wrapped up in burlap. The picture shows the burlap and part of the skinny trunk, but if you're a child who has never seen a tree in a nursery, it was difficult to tell that it even was a tree. (I guess if it's too confusing, it just instigates more questions and provides other learning opportunities.) Anyway, I really do like the book (I wouldn't have used it for preschool otherwise), but this is just something to be aware of.

We began the day by reading the book. Then we headed into the kitchen to prepare a snack for later in the morning. I wanted something that would relate to leaves, and so we made cornflake clusters and called them "leaf piles." Unfortunately, Aaron has a strong aversion to peanut butter (he's not allergic, but he won't eat it in any form), so I found a peanut butter-less recipe. I do not recommend it. It was so sweet and sugary that just a bite or two made me feel sick.

Anyway, while the too-much sugar was melting on the stove, I explained why the leaves change color in the fall. I'll admit that was probably a little ambitious for four-year-olds, but I found this website that gave a pretty simple explanation of the process. While I talked, I drew a few simple pictures/diagrams to help them visualize what happens (sorry, no photos since my artistic talents are only suitable to be viewed by children).

Then we finished our leaf piles and left them to cool while we went for a walk outside. This was probably the best part of the morning. The weather was perfect and all of the fallen leaves were delightfully crunchy. We collected different types of leaves (and the kids were all excited to find a sugar maple tree since that was the kind that was in the book). We also noticed how the seeds and bark and shape of the leaves varied from tree to tree. But mostly, the kids just loved racing up and down the sidewalk.

When we got back, we made a leaf craft. I saw these little leaf creatures at the beginning of fall and have been dying to make them with the boys ever since. Time of course slipped away from me until fall was almost over (by the looks of it here today, you'd think it already was). So I knew we had to do them as part of preschool. You just glue googly eyes to a leaf, glue the leaf to a cardboard tube, poke in a couple of twigs for arms, and glue on three pebbles for buttons. Aren't they just adorable?

Then we ate the leaf piles (and almost no one could finish theirs because of the extreme sweetness).

Last, we pulled out their little bags of leaves, etc. from the nature walk, and we filled out these little booklets. They did a rubbing over each leaf, and then I helped them fill out the facts.

I had more planned, but we only had ten minutes left, and all of them were desperately wanting to play in the backyard, so I let them.

My Quiet Sadness

I've been quiet the last few days, and not without a reason.

On Saturday, almost a week ago now, my sister-in-law, Sonja, delivered a beautiful baby boy. He was full-term, perfect, and stillborn.

I have been quiet because my heart is breaking.

Writing is how I sort out my pain, my feelings, my heartaches, my dreams. That's why I write in my journal every day. And at first I thought I would just contain my thoughts and feelings about this loss to my journal (certainly many of them have already been recorded there). But because I write in my journal every day, my thoughts are often disjointed and sporadic...I write about whatever I am feeling at that particular moment, and often those feelings don't connect into something very cohesive.

I'm realizing more and more that when I experience hard emotions, I don't want to talk about them, but I do want to write about them. Mike and I have broached some of the most difficult conversations in our marriage through letters. That may sound silly, but both of us need the quiet time and space it takes to thoroughly examine each item, measuring it against what we already know or feel.

I couldn't talk at all on Saturday...not in the morning when Mike's sister, Alisa, called and said the doctors couldn't find the baby's heartbeat; not in the afternoon when we were together with other members of the family; and not late at night after Mike returned from praying with his family and holding Sonja's angel baby. At first, it was because I was in denial. I believed if I didn't talk about it and didn't ask any questions and continued to steadfastly pray that the outcome might change. But once it was undeniable that this devastating thing had happened, then the sadness and grief came flying at me from such a multitude of directions and levels that I did not know what to do with it all. And behind all that grief, the ever-pressing thought, This is nothing compared to the pain Sonja and her family is feeling. Nothing. And I would cry anew at the thought of all they were going through.

Late Saturday night, as all of the closeted emotions came pouring out in wrenching sobs, Mike kept asking, "Is it because you feel sad for Sonja?" I couldn't answer him. I literally could not get a single word to come out of my mouth. But now I'm finally feeling like trying to articulate this complex web of sadness.

Yes, I am sad for Sonja. So incredibly sad. My heart aches for her and her husband and their four other children. At the center of every other emotion I feel is the deep sadness I feel for them. I know how much each one was looking forward to this sweet baby.

I'm also sad for myself. In this light, it sounds selfish, but I was excitedly anticipating the arrival of their baby. Today was supposed to be his birthday, and I had planned to visit Sonja in the hospital and hold and snuggle him for the first of many times. Aaron and I talked often about the new brother his cousins would soon be welcoming into their family. He was excited, too.

On Saturday, I was not only sad but so angry. I've seen this happen to other people...something tragic happens and they wonder how God could be so unfair and unjust. That was exactly how I felt. In my silence, my mind and heart raged. Why would Heavenly Father allow this to happen? If miracles were possible, why weren't we blessed with one? What was even the point of praying if in the end it was all random anyway...one family received a miracle, another family didn't. Maybe their wasn't a God after all because it certainly didn't make sense to take away their baby at the last possible moment.

These feelings of intense doubt threatened to pull me under and drown me. It is in times such as this one that I recognize the wisdom in establishing faithful habits. Daily prayer and scripture study provide a crutch for me to lean on. I was feeling completely faithless, but these habits are sustaining me and pulling me through. Even though I can't make sense of this tragic event, deep down I know that turning away from Heavenly Father will never give me the answers I fervently want. In addition to prayer and the scriptures, I have been so grateful for the talks from the most recent General Conference, particularly President Eyring's,  Elder Bowen's, and Elder Anderson's. Little by little, I am rebuilding my faith, and hopefully it will be stronger than it was before. I do have faith in the Atonement of Jesus Christ to heal all wounds, but I also know there are some heartaches that, as President Eyring said, will "last a lifetime."

This week also brought with it waves of fear and anxiety. I keep thinking, A week ago we had no idea this would happen. We didn't know we would be going to a graveside service today for our baby nephew. What other events are on the horizon? A week from today will I be looking back on another tragedy we didn't have a premonition of? Life feels so volatile, and it scares me so much.

I also keep thinking about how an event like this not only alters the future but also, in some respects, the past. The future is obvious: we thought we would get to watch this baby grow up; we thought we would get to know his sweet smile and the many facets of his personality; we thought he would be a part of the festivities on Thanksgiving and Christmas. But I've also noticed that some memories from the past will forever be changed in my memory because I now know what happened later on. As a rather inconsequential example of what I mean, a few weeks ago, Max broke a little piece of pottery Mike and I bought when we were in Chile four and a half years ago. It wasn't particularly sentimental and therefore I didn't really mind, but I did say something like, "When we bought that pot, I had no idea that a little boy named Max would break it." Over the last few days, memories keep surfacing, happy memories that are still happy but also laced with sadness because I now know what I didn't know then.

One of the hardest things for me on Saturday and Sunday was just wondering what I could possibly say or do for Sonja and her family. I wanted to talk to her, but like I said, it's so much easier for me to write hard things than say them. Plus, I knew there was nothing I could say that would actually ease the pain. And I also knew there were probably a great deal of things I might accidentally say that would make it worse. Besides being my sister-in-law, Sonja is also one of my dearest friends. She is so much wiser than me, and I trust her opinion completely. I've seen her go through hard things in the past, and I respect and love her so much. In the end, it was Sonja who guided our first conversation, not me, which just showed me once again how truly amazing she is.  

The graveside service for little baby Daniel was this morning. We have been enjoying beautiful autumn weather, but last night a storm blew in, and today it was cold with thick, heavy snowflakes falling steadily. I thought I would hate the snow, but while it was inconvenient, it was also oddly comforting. Everything was blanketed in pristine snow, and that word, "blanket," kept repeating itself in my mind. It felt like a gift from heaven: a pure and soft blanket from Daniel to comfort all of us at the same time.

As part of the service, my sister-in-law, Brittany, sang the song, "I Will Carry You." I accompanied her on a small keyboard. Throughout the service, water and snow dripped from the overhanging branches of trees onto the keys, and by the time we performed the keys were wet and very cold. As Brittany was singing, and I was playing, I looked out over the white expanse and felt my fingers going stiff and thought how I would never in a million years have pictured myself in this specific situation. I would never have wished for it, but it was a privilege to be able to do something.

More than a decade ago, a family friend gave birth to triplets, two boys and a girl. They were born prematurely. The girl was strong, and she grew and developed well. But the boys were severely handicapped. To this day, they require constant care and have never walked or talked. One time, the mom said, "In our home, we think about heaven every day." They know that someday, their sons will be blessed with perfect bodies, and they hold fast to that hope. That thought has stayed with me, and it came back to me today with greater meaning and hope.

Daniel has given me a reason to think of heaven every day.

Reading With the Seasons: Thanksgiving Edition

As I contemplated which books would put me in a Thanksgiving mood, I realized that my reading could really go in four different directions:

First, books that will make me hungry. Let's be honest, Thanksgiving is a gluttonous holiday. Unlike other candy-driven holidays, this one focuses on rich and heavy and warm and satisfying foods. I think I've mentioned before that I don't really love to cook, but I love to eat, and I also love to read about food. In that vein, I have two food books on the agenda this month: Garlic and Sapphires: The Secret Life of a Critic in Disguise by Ruth Reichl (the former food critic for the New York Times) and Dinner: A Love Story by Jenny Rosenstrach. I've already started Garlic and Sapphires since it is my book club's November pick, and I am gobbling it up (heh, heh). Ruth Reichl's rich and vivid descriptions of food make me mouth water.

Second, books that will make me think of America's beginnings. I am a big historical fiction fan, so I thought November would be the perfect time to read about the Mayflower, Puritans, and the first Thanksgiving. But I am drawing a complete blank on this one. Except for The Witch of Blackbird Pond, I can't think of a single book that takes place in America during the 17th century. I definitely would welcome any suggestions, and for all you aspiring authors out there, this looks like a niche that could use some filling.

Third, books that will make me feel cozy. As the weather turns cooler, there's nothing I like better than curling up in a blanket in front of the heater vent (we don't have a fireplace) with a good book. So many books could fall under this category, but the boys and I are reading The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo, one of my very favorite children's books and which has just the right hint of nostalgia and sentimentality to fit the cozy bill. Plus, reading with two little boys squished up beside me is infinitely more cuddly than reading by myself.

Fourth and finally, books that will make me feel grateful. No genre does this better for me than memoirs. Two that I've read in the past that I would highly recommend for adding a little perspective and gratitude to your life are The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls and Heaven is Here by Stephanie Nielson. Another one that I've had my eye on for the last year or so is Two Kisses for Maddy: A Memoir of Loss and Love by Matthew Logelin. I hope I get some extra time to read it this month.

Hopefully, these ideas have sparked some ideas of your own. Please share any yummy, historical, cozy, or grateful books, and at the end of the month, I will compile all of them into a perfect November reads list. I know you must have ideas, so even if you've never commented before, let this be your reason to do it! Share!

Reading with the Seasons: Halloween Wrap-up

At the beginning of October, I talked about how I love reading books at just the right time of year or season of life. I asked for any suggestions you had for great Halloween/fall reads, and several of you shared your ideas, plus I gathered a few more of my own:

The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America by Erik Larson was suggested by AJ and Mel. My book club has actually almost selected this book for the last two Octobers, but in the end, we all just get so creeped out and scared by the idea of a serial killer that we nix it.

The Lace Reader by Brunonia Barry - This was the title that ended up being selected for October book club instead. It was set in present-day Salem, Massachusetts, so it was flavored by the history of the Salem witch trials. I ended up not finishing it though. It was pretty depressing and the writing was confusing.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee was suggested by my dear friend, Sarah. I thought this was a really excellent suggestion. Maybe not what you normally think of as a Halloween read but with the climax happening on Halloween night (with Scout dressed up as a ham, no less), I think it would be perfect.

Dracula by Bram Stoker was suggested by Mel. There really are a lot of creepy classics out there, and this is one of them.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley - another terrifyingly-appropriate classic

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman was suggested by Robyn. This won the Newbery a few years ago. I haven't read it, but by all reports it is a bit frightening.

How They Croaked: The Awful Ends of the Awfully Famous by Georgia Bragg - Mike's cousin, Jill, mentioned this a few days ago on her blog, and I immediately wrote it down to remember it for next year.

The Eyes of Amaryllis by Natalie Babbitt - I saw this book on Inhabiting Books, and Megan said it would be a great read for this time of year.

Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens was suggested by Alicia, one of my very favorite friends. I think a lot of Dickens' works provide just the right spooky edge.

The Wolves of Willoughby Chase by Joan Aiken - I have wanted to read this book for a long time. Maybe I will save it for next year.

Nine Coaches Waiting by Mary Stewart - I remember Sarah mentioning this one a long time ago, and I think it would definitely fit into the spooky category.

The Witches by Roald Dahl - I said this was on my October reading list. Well, I read it, and I loved every word of it.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier - Oh, my. I don't know if there's any way to capture my feelings for this book. But I'll try in a soon-to-be-coming review.

The Aviary by Kathleen O'Dell - On a whim, I decided to read this book this month, and despite being set in the summer, the creaky old house and enchanted birds made it a great read for this time of year. Full review coming soon.


And that's it. If you have any more suggestions, feel free to share and I'll add them to the list. And make sure you save this list so you'll know just what to read next October.

Tomorrow I will be talking about my reading plans for November, so get thinking about your favorite cozy/yummy/grateful/historical books to read this time of year!