Randomly Me

A Year for Discovery

2010-01-10T21:57:00.004-06:00

Happy New Year!

The new year often inspires people to make resolutions- goals they hope to achieve in the coming year. For me, personally, I have always hated resolutions- they seem designed to entice people to failure. So, I usually resolve not to make a resolution. Yet, this year, I have decide to take a page from my good friend's book, and instead of a New Year's Resolution, I have picked a New Year's inspiration, and selected a word that holds my hopes for the new year: Discovery.

This is a year full of changes for me, and I am in the process of discovering where my life will lead. This new year finds me in a new home, as a new homeowner, in a new neighborhood, and with a new home life, as well. This is a year that also contains what might be considered a "milestone" birthday for me, as I move from one decade of living to another, and I've decide to stretch myself, to go beyond just what I've been comfortable with and try for more. Already, just a few weeks into this new year, I have started new things: I joined a book club, I've taken up a new artistic hobby, and I've been investigating some exciting new learning opportunities. Yes, when I stopped to think about it, this year for me invokes the theme of Discovery.

I hope you all enjoy this year with me, and find your own wonders to discover!

A far off memory from childhood

2009-06-17T19:14:00.009-06:00

While at work today, I ran across a DVD of an old cartoon I hadn't seen in a very long time- Darkwing Duck. As a matter of fact, the very last time I saw the show was when I was living in Iceland as a child! It brought back memories.

Television in Iceland was very odd. I was on a military base, so the military arranged television programming for us. We had initially 3 channels, and of those 3, 1 was a roll around of local information like important dates and the currency exchange rate. We received popular television shows from the states (as we liked to call the US) months after they had been shown there. I was quite surprised when I moved back to the states to see that Michelle on Full House was not an adorable baby but a bratty preteen- our shows were that far behind!

The available television programming available to us in Iceland was so bad, that some foreign officials took pity on us and granted us access to their stations. So to our 3 channels, 2 more were added. One was from England- the legendary Sky TV- and one was from Iceland itself. Those channels were immensely interesting to me. The British channel showed the strangest shows, and featured people with wonderful accents to my young ears. The Icelandic channel was a channel of sheer wonder, because for the most part shows were done in Icelandic!

One of those shows that I watched in Icelandic was the above mentioned Darkwing Duck. Cartoons were such a rarity on television, that even cartoon in a language I didn't fully understand was immensely entertaining. Often times, I would make up my own plot for the show, because I had no idea what the characters were saying! Although I was never much of a television watcher as a child, I loved those times watching cartoons in Icelandic, because it opened a doorway to dreams and imagination of such depths that I am still envious of that feeling to this day.

Seeing that DVD of that old show brought all these memories and feelings of nostalgia rushing back to me. I briefly considered checking out the DVD, but somehow I think watching the show now, in English, just wouldn't be the same.

The New Adventure of Witty!

2009-05-18T14:29:00.006-06:00

Hello, my dear Readers!

After a long silence, I have returned to write again!

This time, I have a new adventure on my plate: Home ownership! Yes, the long months of silence were because I was embroiled in the affairs of home ownership- from placing a bid and anxiously awaiting acceptance, to the ordeals of paperwork, then packing, packing, and more packing, followed by unpacking, unpacking, and unpacking! My time has not been my own of late- it's been my house's!

But it is a thrilling sort of busy, as for the first time in my life I can enjoy the pleasure of living in some place that is utterly and completely my own. There is no landlord to obey, no one living above me, below me, or to either side. I can paint my walls, write on them even, change even the smallest thing like a light switch cover without permission of another. I can play my music loud and sing at the top of my lungs without disturbing anyone. I can pull into my driveway after a long day of work and feel the sweet satisfaction that this house is mine.

So, my dear Readers, I thank you for your patience after my long months of silence. I look forward to writing and reading with you all again!

A Blessing of a Break

2009-02-01T16:41:00.002-06:00

Two weeks ago, on a cold and chilly night when the snow was falling, covering the icy ground with a powdered-sugar coat, I left work to head home. My mind was off in the clouds, and I was in a world of my own, not really paying attention to where I was going or the path I was walking on. So, it should come as no surprise to anyone but me that I took a nasty tumble to the ground, my feet finding a nice slick patch of ice hiding under that deceptively beautiful snow.

Whoosh! Down I went and my fall not only knocked me out of the clouds, but also managed to break my right wrist. Ouch.

Now, in all my years, I have never broken a single bone- not even when I lived in Iceland where treacherous conditions abounded! No, it took just a simple absentminded step to crack my wrist and land me in a pretty blue cast for five weeks, with the use of my right hand- my dominant hand- completely gone.

At first, I was very frustrated with myself- how could I fall on the ice? This was simply unacceptable! Surely, I am not that clumsy! Then, as I began to realize all the things I couldn't’t do because I am naturally right handed, I began to be despondent. I was helpless. I couldn't’t get dressed by myself, I couldn't’t manage buttons. I couldn't’t write. Every time I turned around there was one more thing I couldn't’t do. It was depressing.

Yet, I had five weeks to endure like this, and I did not want to spend them depressed. So I went to bed that first night crying and woke up determined. There would be a bright side to this break and I would find it!

The very first bright thing I realized was that I have a really wonderful husband. I have always known how sweet and kind Andrew is, yet this broken wrist of mine once more reminded me of just how caring he is. He anticipates what I need before I am even aware of it. He's made dinner every night, brings me fresh ice packs when my wrist starts to throb, sees that before I go to sleep at night I have a protective "fence" of pillows to ensure my arm stays propped and I can't roll over on it. He helps me with every single task that I can't manage with just one hand. Everything he does, he does with a smile. Truly, I am blessed to have such a wonderful husband.

The second thing I became aware of was myself. It seems that I am more resilient than I thought was. Sure, I'm right handed, but I discovered that I can do a fair amount of things with my left hand. I can type pretty well and using a computer mouse left handed is a breeze. After two days in the cast, I could eat with utensils in a manner that did not require a bib! I've discovered new and strange ways to do simple tasks like opening jars, buckling seat-belts, and closing doors. Best of all, a right handed cast is the perfect excuse to try left handed writing. I've always admired ambidextrous people, and perhaps now I can be one, too! The opportunity to learn new things is always a wonderful treat.

Yet another bright thing was the fact that I was given a new perspective of the wonderful people I am surrounded by. Family, friends and co-workers have all gone out of their way to help me, and all with a smile. From helping me in and out of cars, offering sympathy, advice and understanding, carrying items for me, holding me steady on the ice so I don't fall again, and even going so far as to help me zip up my coat (impossible to do one-handed!), people have helped me out so generously. I am so lucky to be surrounded by such wonderful people! There is simply no way I can feel sorry for my broken self when I am surrounded by so many kind and caring people.

And, having this broken wrist has shown me one more thing: the world is a much kinder place than people think. Too often we hear on the news how the world is erupting in pain, violence and despair, and yet my experiences have shown me how kind the world really is. I have had many sympathetic looks from strangers, kind helping hands, interesting and commiserating conversations, and simple acts of kindness since I have had a broken wrist. It makes me think that perhaps the world is simply shy and is only looking for an excuse- like a stranger with a broken arm- to show a friendly smile.

As I've realized all this, as I've counted the many ways in which I am blessed, the pain in my wrist fades away and is replaced with a warm glowing feeling of happiness. There is a bright side to a break, it is not all pain and aggravation. Yes, even a break can be a blessing.

Thank you everyone.

Happy Holidays!

2008-12-29T21:57:00.001-06:00

Have a wonderful holiday season!

Desperately seeking a good book!

2008-11-26T15:47:00.001-06:00

Help!

In what perhaps is the most ultimate of ironies, here I am, a librarian without a good book to read!

Every single day, I unite readers with books. I relish finding that perfect book for someone. Reader’s Advisory (that nice librarian term for recommending books for patrons) is one of my favorites aspects of my career- it’s the sweet slice of pie topped with whipped cream to my dinner plate of a work day (can you tell Thanksgiving is around the corner?).

There’s just nothing better to me than spending time talking with a patron about the books they’ve loved, the ones they’ve hated, and the ones that were just so-so, then taking all that information, wrapping it around in my mind and flipping through my mental book catalog to find the perfect book for that unique patron. I like seeing the interest and curiosity on patrons’ faces as they contemplate a new book- and I really love it when they come back and tell me how much they loved it!

Yet, despite all this, I’ve been having a hard time finding a book for myself to read. Its not that I haven’t been reading- goodness, no!- but its that I haven’t found a book that resonates with me. You know the books I mean. They are the books you keep for years on end, the pages thin at the edges from repeated turnings, the spines cracked from frequent re-reads. They are the books you can’t stop thinking about for days after you finish the book, the ones you instantly tell all your friends about so they can read it, too. It has been a long time since I found one of those books.

So, I need help. Dear readers, what are your favorite books? What books speak to you? What books do you think everyone should read- especially me?

I look forward to all your suggestions, and to be fair, I, too, will be posting my personal favorite books up soon as well.

Have a wonderful day!

Vote!

2008-11-04T13:09:00.006-06:00

Please vote today.

Only through voting can your voice be heard.

Thank you.

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T18:31:00.003-06:00

Have a Happy Halloween!

Pompey as Pirate Kitty, the fiercest pirate of the seven seas, known for his deadly hairball attack! Arrrgghhhhh!!!!

Pompey had a wonderful Halloween, and hopes you all have a wonderful one, too. He enjoyed going trick-or-treating at our neighbor, friend, and fellow blogger Deb's house! Thanks, Deb, for giving Pompey such a fun Halloween!

Enjoy the holiday!

Oh no! I've been banned!

2008-10-30T21:43:00.004-06:00

By the miracles of modern technology, I've discovered that China thinks my beloved little blog is ban worthy!

I have now joined the ranks of J.K. Rowling, Maya Angelou, John Steinbeck, and Judy Blume, just to name a few authors who have been banned.

Learn more about books that have been banned here. Check it out- you might be surprised at just what has been banned over the years!

Thanks to my dear friend Caeseria for discovering this strange little blogging tidbit!

Happy Reading!

The Smile Awards

2008-10-15T15:34:00.006-06:00

Oh my! I’ve been given an award! My dear friend and co-worker Deb has awarded me the Smile Award! What a way to start the day! Thank you Deb!

Here are the details of the Smile Award:

Characteristics for the Smile Award:
1. Must display a cheerful attitude.
2. Must love one another.
3. Must make mistakes.
4. Must learn from others.
5. Must be a positive contributor to blog world.
6. Must love life.
7. Must love kids.

These are the rules for The Smile Award.
1. The recipient must link back to the award’s creator
2. You must post these rules if you receive the award.
3. You must chose 5 people to receive the award after receiving it yourself.
4. You must fit the characteristics of the recipient of the award, as posted by .
5. You must post the characteristics of a recipient
6. You must create a post sharing your win with others.
7. You must thank your giver.

Here's is what Deb very kindly wrote about me:

“Witty works with me at the library and obviously loves children from the excitement she gets in programming for them! If there would be a category for loving cats, H would be at the top of the list! Her blog is like eating the best chocolate with all the creamy, tasty, smooth details she gives in her posts about her adventures with her husband and travels. (Even if he likes the group KISS.) And, no matter what the situation, she stays the course and is kind about everybody even behind their backs!”

Thanks so much for the wonderful words! If you haven’t read Deb’s blog, you should click right on over to it- her posts are always wonderfully witty, charming, full of joy and heart- just like Deb! I enjoy reading her blog every day!

Now, I award the Smile Award to my following friends and fellow bloggers!

Andrew! From reading my blog, you know that Andrew is my sweet husband. He is one of the most kind and caring individuals I have ever had the privilege to know. He has a warm and welcoming demeanor, one that invited people in and instantly makes them at ease. He is a friend to everyone who has ever met him. He is also a fellow blogger with two very interesting blogs. His main blog is all about heavy metal music, and it is extremely insightful and intelligent- honestly, those music magazines should keep an eye on him- you may not be a fan of heavy metal, but reading a few of his blog posts might make you check a new CD out! His second blog displays more of the quirky Andrew I know and love. It’s full of his random observations on things going on in life, good books that he has read, movies that he has seen- you never know what will be posted there, but it is sure to be fun reading!

Mom! Ah, my mom! She’s funny, smart, charming, quite clever, warm hearted, caring, and a best friend to me. She always has a wide smile and a kind word for everyone she meets. She’s a true joy to know! She is also the strongest woman I have ever know- her strength of character, her joy in life, all that she has done and conquered has given me a lifetime of inspiration. Her blog is one of the most interesting blogs I’ve read. It is full of the wild and random thoughts that enter her head. One day, it could be a post about a news item she just read, and another day it could be a sweet memory of a friend that she shares. You never know what you are going to find on her blog, but you’ll always enjoy reading it!

Andie! This is a good friend of mine whom I use to work with. Andie is simply a great person to know! She is so smart and fun and funny. She is a super librarian- great with patrons young and old; just excellent with kids; does great programs for children (we once did a “Survivor” type program together- what a blast!); and is simply a wiz at reference work. She’s also extremely funny, charming to be around, and if you need a good book recommendation, you can bet she has one! Her blog has all sorts of wonderful stories about the adventures and musings that go on in her life. I always grin at every new post!

Patricia! Ah, what a wonderful lady to know! Patricia is a good friend of mine at work. She’s wonderfully quirky, smart, and just simply a delight to know. Talking with her is always so interesting- talks can range from how addicting shows like Degrassi are, how wonderful anything Anne of Green Gables is, what wonderful places there are in the world to visit, interest books there are to read, even fun things to make and bake! It is always an adventure talking to Patricia, and her blog is just like her- full of random stories, interesting new articles, fascinating pictures, and other items that catch her eye- it is simply full of delightful adventure!

Caeseria! This is a good friend of mine from back in my college days! She is so wonderful quirky and fun to be with- so much so that we even created an adverb in her honor! Things are either Caeseria-ish or not Caeseria-ish. Caeseria-ish items can usually be described as things that are brightly colored, flashy in a good way, a little off-the-wall, and most delightfully unusual- all traits that describe Caeseria to a T. Her blog is a delightful look into her life as a full time Mom with an adorable son, adventures in planting and canning vegtiables, and learning to live a greener life. It is always so neat to read her blog, seeing what’s going on in her life at that moment. She is most amusing and a joy to read!

Have a smiley day everyone!

Caesar is King...

2008-09-15T23:07:00.006-06:00

Because with a laugh like this, why wouldn't Caesar be king?

Pompey Gets Crafty

2008-09-15T23:05:00.002-06:00

Pompey wonders if the yellow yarn would provide a nice accent to his golden eyes.

The Antics of Octavian

2008-09-15T23:03:00.003-06:00

Octavian considers the tactical advantages of mailing himself to his enemy's doorstep.

Shake your Bon-Bon!

2008-08-16T14:51:00.009-06:00

A few weeks ago, Andrew and I had a delightful afternoon enjoying a traditional Japanese Bon Festival at our local Japanese shopping center.

It was liking being swept away to Japan- there were traditional games, yummy festival foods, and even women wearing traditional yukatas (click here to see information on yukatas!) Since I couldn't take all of you wonderful readers to the festival with me, I thought I would bring the festival to you with a photo journey!

Enjoy!

The front of the Japanese Shopping Center

Booths lined the sides of the shopping center, and people milled about, looking at all the delicious offerings. There was takoyaki, yakisoba, cotton candy, iced coffee, and many other treats. Some vendors were selling fun festival masks featuring Hello Kitty, Doraemon, and Pokemon!

In the center of the shopping center's parking lot, a stage had been set up. Traditional dances were being performed, as well as awesome Japanese Drum songs.

Women were wearing lovely, traditional yukatas. It has become my goal to buy one for the festival next year! They are so beautiful and seems so comfortable and elegant.

Andre proved to be an expert at the traditional "scooping" games at Japanese festivals.

In the "scooping" games, you are giving a very small paddle, covered with a thin paper covering that dissolves in water. The object of the game is to scoop objects out of the water without ripping your paper net. Goldfish Scooping is extremely popular at Japanese festivals (yes, you scoop live goldfish!), but Andrew decided to try the Toy Scooping because we couldn't take a goldfish home with us. He wound up winning two bouncing balls and an adorable Hello Kitty figurine!

Also at the festival was a book vendor, selling books and magazines for a fantastic price! Granted, all the books and magazines were in Japanese, but that didn't stop me from buying a few....

More Books!!!

Here's Andrew tries his hand at another game. Your goal was to shot suction arrows at a target. If you landed in the center, you got the grand prize- a Nintendo Wii! Andrew didn't win that, but he did get some awesome snack prizes.

This was one of the ultra yummy treats Andrew won. They were biscuit cookies, filled with a cookie and rice crunch filling, shaped like mushrooms. They didn't last long- Andrew and I devoured them and determined that we would definitely be making these a regular purchase!

Another one of Andrew's prizes- Japanese soda! It's called Ramune, and it is surprisingly sweet and tangy. The bottle also has a surprise for the unwary...

Look closely, very closely. Yes, there is a marble is the bottle! There's no danger of swallowing it, but its presences in the bottle makes a little game out of drinking the soda. You have to hold the bottle in just the right way, otherwise the marble blocks the bottle's opening!

All of our snacking made us very hungry, so we decided to hit the food vendors!

Yum! It's yakisoba!

Andrew enjoyed the extremely tangy taste of the yakisoba- I liked the slight crunch of the noodles!

Well, that's it! Keep an eye out for a Bon festival near you- they are lots and lots of fun!

The King of the Flop

2008-08-05T19:23:00.002-06:00

Octavian, my fluffy Ragdoll, is hereby crowned the King of the Flop. He has mastered flopping in the most irresistibly cute ways. Camera happy person that I am, I take lots and lots of pictures of Sir Octavian flopping, so I decided to share some floppy cuteness with you, Dear Readers! See if you can resist the fluffy cuteness!

The Night Time Musings of Andrew

2008-07-21T19:31:00.004-06:00

When you live with someone, you find out all sorts of weird quirks and ticks that you might not otherwise know if you just saw them on a day-to-day basis. Naturally, that’s been true of Andrew and I.

Now, I’m sure I have some very weird quirks that Andrew could tell you all about- perhaps my tendency to make up ridiculous songs at the spur of the moment out of sheer boredom- but Andrew has one strange quirk that nearly shocked me out of my skin the first time I encountered it.

Andrew talks in his sleep.

So, I know a lot of people talk in their sleep, but when Andrew talks in his sleep, he sounds completely lucid and wide awake. Half the time, what he says even makes sense. He’ll sometime say things like: “What did you think of that CD?” and if I ask him what CD he’s referring to, he’ll give me a response! When he’s like that, I have to look closely at him to see if he is indeed asleep, because he can carry on a complete conversation with me.

Yet, the other half of the time, I am given a glimpse into the very strange world of Andrew’s dreams. I don’t know where he gets the ideas he dreams of, and I don’t know what they mean, but I find his musings strangely fascinating. Whenever possible, I write down what he says, because it amuses me so much. And, since his musings amuse me, I thought they might amuse you, too.

So here on my blog, I will share the, ahem, wisdom of Andrew's Night Time Musings.

Up for today's contemplation is this gem of wisdom:

"This was already used for the wringer. Now there's no need for the Volvo."

What this means, I don't know, but enjoy!

Witty and the Temporary Dog

2008-07-08T16:37:00.010-06:00

Over the weekend, Andrew and I took a little house hunting jaunt. We didn't actually travel far from our current abode- we had found a house that was just around the corner from where we are currently living that we wanted to look at. So we arranged a viewing and took a little stroll through the neighborhood.

It was a lovely day- blue sky, bright sun, cool breeze- and we were enjoying ourselves. As we got nearer to the house we were going to see, Andrew and I began craning our necks to get a better look at the house. I was so absorbed in contemplating the brick and vinyl siding we were approaching, that when Andrew suddenly called out, "Witty! Look out!" and pointed in front of us, I was completely startled.

I followed the line of Andrew's arm to see what he was pointing at. There, bounding towards us in great enthusiastic leaps, was a dog- a big, black and white dog. I froze. I like dogs, but big leaping and bounding dogs scare me. I braced myself for an attack. Would the dog jump on me? Would it bite me? Would it pin me to the ground and slobber all over my face? I shuddered as these thoughts whipped through my mind. Yet, to my utter surprise, the dog did none of these things!

As soon as the dog got within the vicinity of my feet, it suddenly stopped, dropped and flopped at my feet! The dog gave us what could best be described as a doggie grin as she offered her belly to us for rubbing and scratching. Andrew and I looked at each other. "Well," I said. "I guess she's friendly." Then we took her up on her invitation and gave her a good belly rub.

When we finished lavishing her with attention, we continued on our walk, but quickly realized we were not on the walk alone anymore. Our new doggie friend followed us! We tried to shoo her away, urge her to go home, but she stubbornly stuck with us, grinning at us, her new found friends. We discovered that she was a really, really friendly dog. Whenever we passed by another person on our walk, she would run up to them, say hi, then run back to us. More worrisome, she liked to run up and say hi to passing cars.

While we really did like the dog, we were beginning to worry. Where was this friendly dog's home? Were her owners missing her? Since we couldn't get her home on her own, we decided that we would lead her home. We looked for a tag on her collar and discovered that her home was right next door to the very house we were going to look at! Serendipity!

We quickly steered the dog towards her house, and brought her up to her owners' front porch and rang the bell. And rang the bell. And rang the bell. And rang the bell. There was no answer. There were cars in the driveway, but no one answered the door. We looked at the dog. Maybe she would stay on her porch? We looked at her, "Stay!" we ordered, then we rushed next door to meet our realtor.

The dog followed us. Our realtor, a dog lover herself, was both amused and worried. The dog was very sweet and friendly, but really shouldn't have been roaming outside alone. As we all proceeded to look at the house, the dog once again began to follow us! She would keep sneaking in the open front door and we'd have to shoo her back out. Then she would run around to the back of the house and peek in through the patio doors, whining a little when she couldn't reach us. The entire time we were in the house, the dog stayed nearby.

By the time we were finished, we were really worried about the dog. Once more, we walked over to her home, rang the doorbell repeatedly, but received no answer. So we decided to see if we could put her in her backyard. We managed to open her yard's gate and shoo her in, but she popped right back out through a hole she had dug under the fence! So, at least we now knew how she got out the first time.

So, what do you do with a too friendly dog on a bright and warm summer's day? Well, we did the

only thing we could think of- we bid farewell to our realtor and took the dog home with us! She followed us willingly and eagerly all the way back to our house. We felt a bit like dog nappers, but what could we do? Images of this sweet dog being hit by a car kept running through our head. There was no way we could leave the dog behind- besides, she would have followed us anyway!

So, we took her home, and immediately set her up with a bowl of water and a dish of dog food (generously donated by a kind neighbor!). Then we called her owners and left what was probably the strangest message ever:

"Hello! We have your dog. She followed us home. We think she escaped your yard. We're happy to watch her until you get back. Give us a call!"

Then we sat and watched the dog. Since I had never had a dog before, I was fascinated by her. I found her to be extremely affectionate and great company! She loved to sit beside me with her head on my lap and be petted. She was quite the charmer.

Andrew and I contemplated where her owners could be. As we thought about this, it began to dawn on us that perhaps the friendly dog was home alone. Maybe her owners were on vacation, and she was being watched by a dog sitter. That dog sitter surely wouldn't check phone messages, would they? And what panic might set in when the sitter realized the dog was gone?

We realized that we should probably run back to the house and leave a note on the door.

So, we wrote up a quick note, and Andrew made a mad dash back to the house while I stayed with the dog. Despite my and Andrew's worry with the situation, the dog was just happy to be with people. It was like she had complete faith in us that we would see her home to her owners safely.

It was on Andrew's mad dash back to the dog owners' house that he actually ran into the dog's owners. They were quite surprised to see the tall, lanky man striding up to their house, paper clutched in his hand. I imagine it was a strange conversation as he explained that we had their dog. They were completely shocked that their dog was gone! Apparently, this was only the second time in the six years they had their dog that she had gotten out of the yard. They were extremely grateful that we took her in, because with her trusting and friendly nature, she could have all too easily gotten hurt.

So Andrew, together with the dog's owners, walked home once more. The dog, upon seeing her owners, trotted up to them like nothing was amiss, just that same sweet grin on her face. For the dog, it was just another fun filled, exciting day! Andrew and I said our goodbyes to the dog, and owners and dog went on their merry way, happy to be together.

Meanwhile, I now suddenly long for a dog of my own. Surely a dog could get a long with the Triumvirate of cats, right? Right?

Sigh....

Last day of PLA and vacation

2008-03-29T22:57:00.014-06:00

The third and final day of PLA was a short one. I attended two fascinating sessions, one on interior Library design, and the other on the Librarian's image in the media. That one was hysterical! Librarians have a strange cultural iconography, where we are sometimes viewed as prissy, thin lipped, with our hair in a tight bun and glowering behind small glasses; other times, we are viewed as the hidden seductress, prim and proper until we pull our hair out of the bun and whip off the glasses in one smooth move. The lecture I attended had tons of examples of the Librarian in the media- be it from books, movies, television, and advertisements. It was fascinating and funny to see all the different ways we've been portrayed!

After that enjoyable lecture, I bid farewell to PLA, but not to a library vacation entirely! I once more met up with my good friend Andie, and we took a tour of Minneapolis's new downtown library! It was a huge building that was visually interesting. I was impressed with all the fun details in the children's department, like huge, beautiful dragonflies hanging from the ceiling, and artful end caps on all the bookcases. A librarian's vacation is never complete without a visit to a library!

After our library visit, we all (me, Andrew, my Mom, and Andie) went out to a fantastic dinner at an Italian restaurant. The food was Divine, the company great, and the atmosphere wonderful! The restaurant was full of old architectural elements, and I couldn't get enough of them! What a way to end a day in Minneapolis, and what a way to end PLA!

Despite PLA being over with, our vacation was not. On our way home, we went straight passed my Mom's very best friend Diva's house, thus making a perfect opportunity to visit! It was great to see Diva again- growing up, she was like a second mother to me. She's always fun to see and spend time with. I just wish I had more time on the trip to visit with her, but Andrew and I were only able to stay for a few hours before we left for a small, mini vacation at a nearby resort to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Mom stayed with Diva so they had time to catch up without the kids around.

The resort Andrew and I stayed at was lovely. We had a fun suite that was bear themed, complete with a fireplace and a balcony. We had a great time together, relaxing and reminiscing over the years we've been married. We're still insanely happy together :)

This was the view outside our balcony,

but this was my favorite view of all:

Along the way at our resort, we also stumbled upon this vending machine, which had us both laughing hysterically:

"Your choice for healthy eating!" but the machine was filled to the brim with junk food!

It was a lovely way to end our trip, and the next morning we picked up my Mom, and hit the road home, happy and content with a fun trip.

Oh, and remember our lovely SUV we rented? Well, here's the trunk before we left for PLA:

and here's the trunk after:

What a great trip!

Blogging PLA Day 3

2008-03-28T23:05:00.005-06:00

The third day of my PLA extravaganza bloomed bright and early for me. I had my very conference session of the day at 8:30 a.m. The session was about musical storytimes, and let me tell you, nothing wakes you up more than sitting in a room with over a hundred other children's' librarians, clapping and singing along to silly songs! It was great fun, really informative, and left me with a wealth of new ideas.

Afterwards, I rushed down to the exhibit hall to meet up with Andrew and my mom who were already browsing the aisles, seeing what was new and exciting. I spent a few gleeful hours talking to vendors, looking at new books, meeting new people, and having a grand time, before I rushed off to my next session, all about new technology and how the library might integrate it.

Following that program, I went to one of the programs I was really looking forward to- a luncheon presentation with Nancy Pearl, my librarian idol. She's simply super cool, and even has her own action figure. She started the now nation wide program called "One Book, One City" and all its incarnates. She's authored some fantastic books called Book Lust, More Book Lust, and Book Crush. She gave an inspirational speech about the role of books in her life, and the "dangers" of being a book lover- "dangers" like thinking you are from the 18th century after reading an historical novel, saying words incorrectly that you've only read, and not wanting a book to end. By the end of her talk, I was once more enthralled with books and reading and my profession.

After that, I spent a hectic 45 minutes once again roaming the exhibit hall (I am an addict of the exhibit hall, I confess!), before rushing off to another exciting event of all: Authors Readers Theater! This was a presentation by Sarah Weeks, Avi, Brian Selznick, and Pam Munoz Ryan- all fantastic authors of children's literature. Together they put on wonderful spoken word performances of each others work. It was inspiring and uplifting, their voices blended beautifully and the stories really came to life. In particular, Selznick's awarding winning illustrated novel The Invention of Hugo Cabret became cinematic in nature, as slides from the books flashed behind the authors as they read their parts. I left thoroughly enchanted with each and every one of the authors- and I got a book signed by each, too!

By the time the program was over, the whole day had passed by, and it was nearly evening. Mom, Andrew and I headed back to our hotel, laden down with fantastic books, to rest for awhile, but not for long. Andrew and I were jetting off to an all conference reception! Once there, we met up with friends, enjoyed a strange but delicious meal (Hot dogs on sticks, steak, casseroles, ham, potato salads and lots more), listened to some music, watched librarians dancing, and had a great time talking with everyone around. By the time the party ended, I was thoroughly exhausted, but thoroughly happy!

Another PLA day over and done with, and more fond memories than I can possibly record.

Book Count: 101!

Roaming Minneapolis...

2008-03-27T23:36:00.020-06:00

The PLA adventures continue...

After our exciting arrival in Minneapolis the day before, Andrew, my mom and I were eager to jump right in and explore the city on our first full day in the city. The convention actually didn't start until 4 p.m., so we had the whole day to explore the city. We had poured through brochure and identified several places we wanted to visit, and we set out bright and early to begin our adventure.

The first place on our list was the American Swedish Institute. It was housed in a castle! We were really excited to check this place out. It took us a while to find the place, being unfamiliar with the city, but before too long, we found ourselves in front the lovely museum. Just as we were circling the place to find a parking spot, I- the ever observant librarian- happened to look at the brochure we had for the museum and notice when itty bitty little problem. It was 9 a.m., and the museum didn't open until 12 p.m. Whoops!

Quick change of plans! We quickly consulted our list of places to visit, and decided to visit the Minnesota Center of the Book Arts. A place dedicated to books! Perfect! What a way to spend a book-centered vacation. Once more, we navigated our way to the Center, which was on the other side of the city. Once there, we quickly found a parking space and made our way into the Center.

The first thing we noticed when we entered was that the place was quiet- almost too quiet. There was a little cafe in the Center off to the side with only one person working the counter, and one customer sipping a drink inside. Interesting. We looked to the other side of the Center, and saw that the place was dark. It seemed that while the Center's Cafe and Lobby were open, the actual Center was not.

Quick change of plans!

We were quickly realizing that exploring Minneapolis might best be a thing done on a weekend, not a weekday morning. But we were out and about, and we wanted to do something! Once more, I scoured our list of things we wanted to see and do in the city. This time, I paid attention to the opening times of places we wanted to see (Third time's a charm!). Everything we were interested in opened late except one place, so we decided that it would be our destination.

The place: The Cathedral of Saint Paul.

In a word, the Cathedral was beautiful. It stood high atop Summit Hill in Saint Paul, with breathtaking views of the city all around. It's Renaissance inspired architecture took my breath away. Inside was a peace and calm that truly did make one feel closer to heaven. I found the place so lovely that honestly, I don't think my words only can describe what I felt, and only my pictures can provide a half way adequate description of what I saw. Please enjoy!

When we were finished enjoy the enchanting Cathedral, we decided that rather than try our luck at another attraction, we were in need of some retail therapy. We went downtown and started to explore the area.

Of course, book lovers that we are, we did manage to find the city's bookstores, including a delightful used and antique bookstore. There, despite the fact that we would soon be scouring the aisles of the convention center for free books, we did find one gem of a book we couldn't live without: the special edition of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Andrew and I are huge fans of the series and have taken to collecting various versions of all seven novels, from special editions to foreign volumes.All along the shopping district were sculptures that really brought life to the street.

I was particularly captivated by this one:

Andrew, however, really was inspired by this statue of Minneapolis's own Mary Tyler Moore:

After shopping, all three of us were starved! So, we looked around for a place to eat. One place in particular called out to us, or rather to Andrew: The NBA City Restaurant. Andrew is a huge basketball fan, so this place was like nirvana to him. My mom and I could care less about sports- particularly basketball- but seeing Andrew's face when he saw that NBA City was a restaurant was too much to resist, so we decided to check it out.

It was a fun place that really embraced its theme, but not in an over the top way, as a matter of fact, it was quiet tastefully decorated and had a gourmet menu. I was particularly enthralled with the actual menu from the place- it's cover was made from a basketball! Even though I'm not a fan of basketball, I couldn't help but enjoy myself!

After our tasty meal, it was time to hit the convention center. The exhibits were opening, and we wanted to be there when the doors opened! We weren't the only ones, however, the place was swarming with librarians eager to hit the stacks as the exhibit hall was called. To keep us occupied, there was an om pah band playing which created a, shall we say, interesting, atmosphere.

When the doors opened, the stampede began! Librarians literally swarmed in the doors, rushing to get to their favorite booths. Some booths had sent out fliers and coupons, offering special prizes and giveaways to the first 50 people who showed up to their booth, so there was a lot of mad rushing to the desired booth. Not one to be left out, I, too, had a desired booth to hit, craving to be one of the first 50, and I was! My reward for my efforts? A nifty little tote bag filled with candy, a paperweight, and a slinky! Yes- it was definitely worth it!

After that, the floor passed by in a blur. There were so many booths! Among my favorites was Harper Collins, a publisher that really goes all out for librarians. They always have fantastic authors visiting and lots of free books! I also really loved the Romance Writers of America's booth. Although I am not always a fan of romance novels, this association goes all out for librarians and always has the nicest and friendly booth in the stacks. No matter when you stop by there is always an author there, signing books for free, and lots of other books- signed as well- for the taking. You are always assured of a warm welcome and a fun conversation. And you know what? The books they were giving away? They were awesome! Romance novels have come a long way from the days of Fabio covers.

The stacks were only open for 2 hours, but we sure made those most of those two hours! We had bags of books and made many trips out to the car to drop them off! By the time the stacks closed, we were wiped, but there was still more to do!Andrew has an aunt and uncle who live near the Twin Cities, and we went to meet them for a lovely meal out. I absolutely adore Andrew's family, so it was a fun time. They took us around the city and showed us some places we might not have otherwise seen, like a beautiful park with waterfalls! Andrew and I could have spent hours gazing at the beautiful surroundings.

We had such a delightful time with Andrew's family, that we were reluctant to say good night and goodbye, but the time was swiftly passing us by, and it was almost 11 p.m. by the time we got back to our hotel. Whew! We were tired.... but we still had another long day ahead of us! The very next day, the convention started in full swing! Stay tuned for more details.

Book Count of the Day: 100

So a librarian does what on vacation?

2008-03-26T23:15:00.011-06:00

Recently, I decided to take a vacation. I needed a chance to get away for awhile, have some fun, relax. Yes, I needed an escape.

So where did I decide to go to get away from it all?

To Minnesota... For a library convention- the Public Library Association (PLA) to be exact.

Yes, my idea of getting away from it all is to spend my free time at a conference devoted to my profession. What can I say- I really LOVE my job!

I happen to find library conferences to be quite fun. There are always interesting programs, fascinating people, and terrific events to attend. And, my absolute favorite thing about library conferences is the exhibit floor. Aisle upon aisle of vendors with books- lots and lots of books. The best part about all those books? A vast majority are free! Yes- FREE! It's heaven for a book lover!

As I'm not the only book lover in my family, I was joined on vacation by Andrew and my mom (where do you think my love of books came from?). Yet, right away, we were aware of a problem. Three adults, all book lovers, traveling together to a convention where lots of books will be given away- for free!- and only itty-bitty cars to our names. What to do, what to do?

Our answer: Rent a massive SUV to travel in!

Isn't it pretty?

Sure, we felt a little silly at first, driving that big SUV in the hopes of returning home with a ton of books, but we got use to it. The SUV was actually fun to drive. It provided great views of the road, handled awesomely, and had really cool features, like a CD player you could control from the steering wheel! We made full use of that CD player, but listening to John Irving's Until I Find You on the long drive to Minnesota.

Along the way, we also found time to stop at cheesy (literally!) tourist attractions, like these:

After a long and enjoyable ride (the audio book was great fun to listen to!), we arrived in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Our hotel was in the heart of downtown, a great location. It had everything: a nice restaurant, a pool, a hot tub, a bar called Timbuktu (I just love that name!), and Internet lab, and a designer with questionable tastes!

Questionable tastes? How so? Well, basically, our hotel room was the most clash happy hotel room we had ever seen. Leopard print curtains and checked carpets, crazy art deco mirrors and tan-colored laminate furniture. Let your eyes burn on these images from our, um, charming room- oh, and yes, these patterns were all side by side in all their garish glory:

When our eyes had finished adjusting to the room, we decided to run over to the convention center to pick up our registration packets for the conference. These packets are like gold to me- they contain the keys to the conference: your badge, your programs, your tickets to special events, and sometimes, if you are lucky, some sweet freebies. This was one of those occasions were the registration packet had some really sweet freebies in it- namely, two books! They were James Patterson's first two Maximum Ride novels- a series I found to be a fun and addicting ride, great for a quick read.

After we registered, we met up with a friend of mine (and fellow blogger!) Andie for a little exploring of Minneapolis and some dinner. We found a great little downtown neighborhood, with lots of neat restaurants, and our eyes were immediately drawn to a very interesting looking restaurant called The Bad Waitress.

It was a hip sort of cafe, that lived up to its name by having you, its customer, fill out your own order and bring it up to the counter to the cook. The walls were filled with images from old B movies and comics, and the booths were retro looking red and black numbers. They made a mean hamburger- really delicious!

After dinner, Andie and I said goodbye to Andrew and my Mom and headed over to the first event of the convention- a party for an ALA (American Library Association) presidential candidate. It was fun and interesting to meet a candidate and all of her supporters. I was also thrilled to meet the current ALA president. That's why conference rock- you never know who you are going to meet!

By the time the party came to a close, it was almost midnight and I was tired. Andie and I bid each other good night, and headed back to our hotels. I was beat- it was a long, fun day, but I just knew the next day would hold even more for me (and more free books!)!

Book Count of the Day: 2

A Small Little Adventure

2008-03-18T23:52:00.012-06:00

Every now and then Andrew and I enjoy making a mini escape to Japan. Its always a fascinating adventure when we go, full of interesting things and exciting finds. We try to go once a month, and if we're lucky, we can go twice!

Well, actually, our little trip to Japan is to a charming little Japanese mall about 45 minutes away from where we live. It has a large grocery store, a bakery, a food court, video store, liquor store, travel agent, and a book store. We love to wander in and out of the various sections, seeing what we can find. Every time we go, we make it a point to try something new, along with picking up some of our favorite treasures (like Pocky and Curry- yum!).

We just took a mini-vacation a few days ago, and I thought you all might enjoy seeing the souvenirs we brought back with us, sharing in some of the strange and unique things we found on our trip.

These are a trio of tasty fruit drinks that Andrew and I love. On one of our visits to the shopping center, they were having a sample fest and these were some of the items we tried, and we fell in love with them. The green one is a grape juice, which has a light taste and, surprisingly, is filled with whole, peeled grapes. It creates a delicious combination. The orange can is a Mango juice, also with pieces of mango in the juice. The white can is a mystery- it simply looked to good to pass up!

On a sale table, for $1.25, we found these interesting treats. They are mini jelly cups! The jelly is a little like Jello, but with a slightly bitter taste to it, just a hint of seaweed, no matter the flavor. The cups, slightly bigger than a quarter, come in apple, peach, cherry, strawberry, and pineapple.

These interesting snacks caught me eye. They appeared to be a thin rice cake with a sweet frosting on them, and interesting combination. However, when I bit into one, that sweet frosting was actually salty! These treats need a healthy dose of water to wash them down with!

Andrew saw this snack, and couldn't resist trying it. It looked like frosted flakes, a favorite cereal of his. When we tried it, however, it proved to be quite different, but very tasty. It had the texture and consistency of a fortune cookies, with a little bitter bite of ginger in it, with a sweet frosted coating. Yum!

This is one of our favorite treats, found in the bakery portion of the mall. It's the Japanese equivalent of a hot dog. The hot dog is baked into a sweet roll coated with mustard and ketchup on top. It is a perfect combination, the salty hot dog, balanced by the sweet roll, and with a bit of a tang from the ketchup and mustard. Your taste buds will sing trying this out!

No visit to the mall would be complete without a visit to the bookstore. Granted, I can't read 99% of what's in the bookstore, but I love looking. This time, I couldn't resist picking this magazine up. It's huge! The spine is literally 4 inches thick. Wow!

I can't read the magazine, but I like to imagine what the pages say. I wonder what's going on it this panel. The girl looks angry- maybe she's yelling at me for spending money on something I can't read? Or maybe telling me its about time I learned Japanese?

Included with the magazine was a little gift. Apparently some magazines, particularly comic ones, come with gifts. So, you get something fun to read and a present! I recieved a cell phone strap with interchangeable decorations. They're from a popular Anime series called "The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya." I think they're rather cute.

That's it for now! I hope you enjoyed our mini-vacation to Japan!

Train Man

2008-03-12T19:29:00.008-06:00

Just the other day, Andrew and I watched a delightful film called Train Man, or, in its original Japanese title, Densha Otoko. It is based on a supposedly true story that happened in 2004 and has captured Japan's heart, and has had books, mangas, a TV series, and now a movie based on it.

Densha Otoko tells the story of a young man and his quest to win the woman of his dreams. Yet this young man is no ordinary young man, rather he is a self proclaimed otaku. In Japanese culture, an otaku is somewhat of a social pariah. They are what Americans might call geeks, but even more so. Otaku are obsessed with certain cultural phenomena, like music, electronics, or anime. They are often portrayed as socially inept, hygienically challenged, and very strange. In Japan, to be called an otaku is considered a severe insult, although here in America anime and manga fans have embraced the term otaku for themselves proudly.

The story starts in 2004 on an online bulletin board (like a chat room) called 2channel when a user user named Train_Man posts a story about what happened to him that day on the train. A drunk business man was harassing several woman on the evening train, and Train_Man, usually shy and quiet, surprised even himself when he stood up to defend the women. He managed to subdue the drunk and went with the women to the police station. After their police interviews, all the women wanted his name and address so they could send him a thank you note for his gallantry, including one lovely young woman who took Train_Man's breath away. He posts his story on 2channel in hopes of receiving help on what to do next, should anything happen, and just to share his story with some friends, strangers though they may be.

Then, just a few days after his first post he comes back to the board with more news. The pretty girl from the train has indeed sent him a thank you for his help, and its not just a card, but a package. At the urging of the users of 2channel, he opens the package and discovers a set of two tea cups. Describing the details of the teacups to his readers, he tells them that the manufacturer is a company called Hermes. He has no clue what that means, but again, the users of the chat room fill him in on the fact that it is a well known, very expensive company from England. The users of 2channel then encourage Train_Man to call the woman, now known as Hermes, and invite her out to dinner to thank her for such a generous gift. They then guide him on what to wear, how to act, where to go for dinner, and what to say. They are the fairy godmothers of Train_Man's tale, helping change him from an otaku into a prince.

What is charming about this film is how earnest Train_Man is in his quest to win Hermes's heart. His efforts to change himself are endearing, and you can tell that he is changing himself not just for Hermes, but for himself as well. You really feel for Train_Man as he fumbles through his dates and all the awkwardness of first love.

You also become involved with the users of 2channel, who appear not just as anonymous users on a computer screen, but as real people. One user is a nurse who seems to be trying to heal a broken heart. Another user is a tired business man, almost cynical with life, but Train_Man's story brings him hope. Another is a woman who seems tired of her life as a housewife. Yet one more user is actually three people combined- a group of otaku who view Train_Man as the representative of otaku everywhere, and take his trials and tribulations to heart, and engage in wild fantasies illustrating just that notion.

Train_Man is a movie with heart. I had a smile on the entire time I watched the film. It was a sweet love story and a fascinating glimpse into another culture. If you are looking for a bit of whimsy in your life, this is the film for you. Whether or not it is even a true story doesn't matter, as it gives you a sense of hope that there is a love for everyone out there in the world.

PS- if you do watch the film, be sure to sit through the credits for an amusing little bonus scene at the end!

Nature's wonders

2008-02-21T00:21:00.005-06:00

This evening I was able to view the most lovely lunar eclipse, truly one of nature's wonders. Enjoy the photos.

The Perils of Shoe Lust

2008-02-18T18:52:00.007-06:00

All around me, I see women wearing gorgeous shoes. High heels, spiky boots, bright colors, bold styles. They amaze me, these women. How do they do it? How can they wear those amazing shoes?

Myself, I find shoe shopping a real trial. When I shop for shoes, above all, I look for practicality. If you're on your feet all day, high heels and spiky boots don't seem like the height of comfort. As for the bright colors and the bold styles, well, there are only so many fire engine red outfits I can wear with fire engine red strappy platform heels.

My shoe wardrobe is simple. I have a pair of brown loafers and a pair of black loafers. I have a pair of brown heels and a pair of black heels. I have one pair of sneakers, and one errant pair of gold, strappy heels I bought for a wedding I was in. My shoe wardrobe is very practical and very bland, and for the most part I am happy with that.

Occasionally, though, against my better judgment, I succumb to what can only be called shoe lust. You know what I mean: you see an absolutely stunning pair of shoes that you must own. You don't know what you'll where them with or where you'll wear them to, but you have to have them. For me, buying these shoes is always a bad decision. The last pair of impractical, shoe lust inducing shoes I succumbed to- a pair of fantastic strappy platform sandals- developed an irritating squeak after the second day of wearing them, and after two weeks those awesome straps broke.

I should know never to succumb to shoe lust.

Yet just last week I went out shopping with Andrew for new work shoes for him. There are just so many pairs of brown men's loafers this woman can stare out, so I began to idly browse the aisles. In the woman's section, I passed row after row of impractical shoes and I walked by them without a second glance, but then, right in front of me, there it was, the one thing I cannot resist when out shopping- a clearance sign.

It wasn't just any clearance sign, oh no, this was a 75% off clearance sign. What could it hurt to see what was on sale? I looked at the shelves. Flip flops, sneakers, spiky boots. Nope, nothing for me.... but wait, what was that? There, on the middle shelf was a gorgeous pair of brown leather high, high heels. The most adorable strap wrapped around the top of the foot, attached with a sweet little button. The shoes managed to be both sexy and sweet at the same time. They were my size, too. I wanted them. I had to have them. I thought over my wardrobe- why, yes, I did have several outfits those shoes would look stunning with. I looked at the price: $7.38. That settled it: those shoes were mine.

Now, a girl with a new pair of shoes needs just the right place to premiere them. I had just such an event in mind. Andrew and I had splurged and bought tickets to the touring production of Rent. We had also decided that we would eat at this darling Italian restaurant near the theater to make a full date night of the event. With those new shoes, I could wear my favorite full brown skirt, the one that had a sweet little swing to it and whose hem hit my knees just so. With that skirt, I had a smart-looking cream and gold pinstriped blouse, with quarter length sleeves, a v shaped neckline, and that cinched in at the waist just so. Pair that outfit with my favorite brown stone chandelier earrings and I was all set for a night on the town.

Come date night, the outfit went together just as I thought it would. The skirt swung charmingly, the shirt cinched just so, the earrings dangled gracefully, and the shoes, oh the shoes, they pulled the whole thing together and made the outfit a 15 on a scale of 10. I was set for a night on the town. Andrew and I drove downtown, and parked in a parking garage near the restaurant and, so Andrew told me, near the theater, too. We set off on a walk to the restaurant.

For the first city block, me and my shoes strutted along; on the second city block, we slowed down just a little; on the third city block, the shoes began to pop off my heels with every other step. By the fourth city block, I realized I had a problem, as the shoes were just a smidgen too big, and my foot was rubbing painfully across the insides of them. Thankfully, before we reached a fifth city block, we had reached the restaurant.

After an truly enjoyable meal, Andrew and I set off for the theater. Once again, during the first city block, I was strutting with the best of them; by the second, I was slowing down; by the fifth, I was cursing what must have been temporary insanity that had persuaded me to by the wretched, horrid, hideous shoes. By the seventh block, I was near tears and asking Andrew "Just how much further is the theater again?"

Well, in a fit of unusual male stubbornness, Andrew hadn't admitted to me that when we arrived downtown, he didn't quite know where the theater was, so he parked at the only parking garage he knew which was over a mile away from our destination. It was a very, very, very long walk. At the restaurant, he had quietly asked the waiter exactly where the theater was, and had hoped I wouldn't notice the extra long walk. Well, to his credit, perhaps I wouldn't have noticed the long walk, but my shoes certainly did!

By the time we reached the theater, I was leaning on Andrew like he was life preserver and I was on a sinking ship. I hoped that we looked like a pair of lovebirds, strolling along the avenue, leaning into one another but I'm pretty sure I looked like a woman who was more than a little tipsy as I wobbled and weaved and leaned against Andrew. I was never so relieved to reach the theater and sink into my seat. My shoes- those horrible torture devices- immediately came off.

My feet enjoyed a lovely two and a half hours of freedom.

There was still, however, a very, very long walk back to our car. I was brave, though, and slipped my shoes back on. I gamely walked out of the theater. I boldly walked one city block, then two, then three! Granted, those three city blocks took me 15 whole minutes to walk, but three city blocks! Yet at the end of the third city block, as I waited at a red light for a cross sign, as my feet screamed and I contemplated the many more blocks awaiting me, I made a decision- the shoes were coming off.

I didn't care that I was in the middle of a downtown area. I didn't care that it was winter time and the streets and sidewalks were icy cold. The only thing I cared about was the relief my feet felt as those shoes came off! That fourth city block was sheer bliss to walk! At the end of that fourth city block, Andrew felt the spirit of chivalry, and quickly whipped off his shoes and then his socks. He handed his socks to me, so I would have extra protection as I walked the city streets in my nyloned feet. So, Andrew and I continued on our way, him sock-less in his shoes, me in his socks. At least his socks were in a complementary color to my outfit, a lovely tan color the matched the stripes in my shirt that cinched in just so.

That is what comes of my shoe lust- nothing but pain, blisters, and walking in stocking feet downtown. I think I have finally learned my lesson, to stick with practicality and avoid shoe lust like the plague.

But, I do have an evening out downtown coming up this weekend, and I have a charming chocolate brown dress that I've been dying to wear, that would look smashing with my brown stone chandelier earrings, and as for shoes, why, those new shoes of mine would like fabulous and really make the outfit. Surely, the shoes won't be so bad the second time around? After all, my blisters will be all healed by then! Right? Right?

Sigh. I'll never learn.

HTML Dreams

2008-02-14T15:02:00.007-06:00

Lately, I've been having the strangest dreams. In my dreams, I'm always facing a computer screen, typing in streams and streams of html.
Have you ever seen html? It’s not pretty. I dream of :
< /div >
< href = " www.somethingoranother.com ">
< /p >
<>
< src=" somethingisstrange.jpg">

and lots of other gobbley-gook that gets stranger and stranger the longer I dream.

Why are my dreams obsessed with html? Well, for the past month, my working days have been filled with nothing but html. I was recently asked to help set up and design the online portion of my library's new catalog.

Our new system uses a mixture of custom code and standard html, and it’s been a frustrating but rewarding task to figure out how to piece together the various parts to obtain the effect that I want. It’s like one very large jigsaw puzzle, and I have to find the right size pieces. In order to get this up and running, I've been working 12 hour days, and coming in on the weekends. And the crazy thing is, although I am tired and exhausted, although I get frustrated and grumble, I'm having a blast! I love a challenge, and this is a huge one.

Yet, apparently, I've been dealing with html for so long now that it has infiltrated my dreams!

Now, I suppose my dreams of html wouldn't be so bad if it was just random streams of strange html, but often, after one of my strange, haunting html dreams, I go into work and actually try out the html code I dreamed of! The scary thing- a few times, the code has worked!

Now, if only I could dream of winning lottery numbers, then life would be really fun!

Happy dreaming!

Silly Questions

2008-02-05T00:17:00.000-06:00

Have you ever gotten one of those "Getting to Know You" questionnaires in your email? They're filled with strange and obscure questions about you and your life. Well, I am a bit of a sucker for them. For some reason, I just love to fill them out. Nine times out of ten, I've answered the questions before, but I just can't help it, I have to answer it! I just got another one in my inbox, and I decided it would be fun to post it on my blog. If you like it, copy the questions in a blog or email of your own, and have some fun!

1. What time time did you get up this morning?
8:35 a.m., very reluctantly, because I went to sleep at 3 a.m.

2. Diamond or pearls?
Diamonds make me nervous and pearls, while lovely, aren't something I wear often. Give me costume jewelry anytime.

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema?
The Golden Compass

4. What is your favorite TV show?
Law and Order: Special Victims Unit

5. What do you usually have for breakfast?
Whatever is quick and fast, right now Pop Tarts

6. What is your middle name?
Shhh.. it's a secret, but as a little hint, according to the Beatles, its all you need!

7. What food do you dislike?
Spinach, yucky, yucky!

8. What is your favorite CD at the moment?
Oh sure, ask a tough one! I'm currently listening to A Fine Frenzy

9. What kind of car do you drive?
A very old beater car- I have duct tape holding up my windows!

10. Favorite Sandwich?
BLT, minus the L.

11. What characteristic do you despise?
The inability to accept those who are different than you are.

12. Favorite item of clothing?
I have a totally rockin' red dress I am just dying to wear somewhere! Otherwise, I love a good pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt.

13. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?
Rome, to walk among the ruins and speak the ancient language I learned so long ago (back in High School)- yes, I did study Latin.

14. Favorite brand of clothing?
Whatever is on sale! Why pay full price?

15. Where would you retire to?
Where ever I feel home is.

16. What was you most recent memorable birthday?
This past birthday. My Grandmother got me tickets to my favorite musical, Phantom of the Opera, my Mom got a signed copy of one of my favorite books, Until I Find You by John Irving, Andrew took me away for a lovely trip, and Fate gave me my precious Rag Doll cat that I have been dreaming of for years.

17. Favorite sport to watch?
What is a sport?

18. Furthest place you are sending this?
To the vast wide plains of the Internet!

19. Person you expect to send this back first?
No clue! Surprise me!

20. When is your birthday?
Shhh.. it's another secret, but I am a Virgo to the core.

21. Are you a morning person or a night person?
I am a totally ridiculous night owl.

22. What is your shoe size?
Depends on the shoe. Believe it or not, I have shoes in sizes 6 to 8, and they all fit. As a result, I hate shoe shopping.

23. Pets?
I have three adorable, lovable cats: Octavian, Pompey and Caesar.

24. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with us?
I just found not one, but two copies of Harry Potter written in Welsh at my favorite used bookstore, on the clearance rack. Andrew and I collect foreign editions of the Harry Potter books, so we were so totally jazzed! So, how awesome is that?

25. What did you want to be when you were little?
An author, and I still want to be one!

26. How are you today?
Very, very tired. I've been working a lot of overtime, enjoying it, too, because the work is fun, but I am going on my seventh straight day of work, and I still have four more days to go! A nap sounds really nice right now!

27. What is your favorite candy?
Depends on the day, but generally turtles/pixies or twixs.

28. What is your favorite flower?
I love all flowers but daffodils. Daffodils are evil, evil flowers (I'm allergic to them!). Yucky daffodils!

29. What is a day of the calendar you are looking forward to?
February 15th, half price chocolate day (chocolate only tastes good when its half off!). Yummy!

30. What is your full name?
The Witty Librarian

31. What are you listening to right now?
Amy Winehouse's You Know I'm No Good- man, what a fantastic voice she has!

32. What was the last thing you ate?
A bagel and cream cheese

33. Do you wish on stars?
Yes- never stop wishing and hoping.

34. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Depending on the day, the color changes. Today I am Sapphire Blue.

35. How is the weather right now?
Who knows? I haven't looked out a window recently.

36. Last person you spoke to on the phone?
My Mom

37. Favorite soft drink?
Caffeine Free Pepsi

38. Hair color?
Brunette

39. Favorite Restaurant?
A little Italian restaurant in our town.

40. What was your favorite toy as a child?
A stuffed Care Bear I called Baby Tugs, but was really named Baby Hugs

41. Summer or winter?
Winter, all snowy and fluffy and magical!

42. Hugs or Kisses?
Hugs!

43. Chocolate or Vanilla?
Vanilla

44. Coffee or tea?
Tea, Jasmine tea specifically.

45. Do you want your friends to email you back?
Always!

46. When was the last time you cried?
Tears of frustration Saturday afternoon as, once again, the computer program I was working on decided it hated me. Computers can be so mean.

47. What is under your bed?
Extra blankets, a tub of cat toys and supplies, and a lot of books!

48. What did you do last night?
Played in the snow with Andrew

49. What are you afraid of?
Spiders! Creepy Crawly Things send me into shivers and fits!

50. Salty or Sweet?
Salty.

51. How many keys on your key ring?
Too many to count!

52. How many years at your current job?
Going on 3 years and loving it!

53. Favorite day of the week?
Any day of the week I can spend with my loved ones!

54. How many towns have you lived in?
Who knows? I lost track years ago!

55. Do you make friends easily?
I don't know. Would you be my friend?

56. How many people will you send this to?
No clue!

57. How many will respond?
No clue!

A Snowy Night...

2008-02-04T00:23:00.000-06:00

It was a lovely, snow-filled night, the air crisp and cool, the flakes soft and gentle...

It was a perfect night...

A perfect night for fun!

Andrew and I made snow angels.

This was Andrew's:

This was mine:

And of course, no snow filled night is complete without a snowman!

I hope you all enjoy your own snowy nights!

About Bubba

2008-01-21T22:03:00.001-06:00

It has been a sad few days in my household because Bubba the Goldfish has passed away. Now, yes, Bubba was a goldfish, a species not especially prone to long life, but Bubba was special. Bubba had been with Andrew and I since before we were married, long before Pompey, Caesar, and Octavian joined us. He lived for six and a half years, and it seemed like he would live forever.

I must confess Bubba and I did not get off to a great start. I was never particularly fond of fish. I couldn't quite get their appeal. You couldn't hold them or pet them, you could only stare at them through panes of glass and water. They could be slimy, scaly, and they made the strangest faces. I could see no redeeming feature in owning and caring for a fish.

Despite this, or rather, because of this, my mother thought it would be a bit of a lark to present Andrew and I each with a goldfish of our own. A carnival near her work was selling the leftover goldfish for a mere dollar a piece, and she couldn't resist buying 2 of them. She just knew that I would loath the fish and Andrew would love them.

Yet, the goldfish she bought were not merely leftover goldfish, they were front line fish. Do you know the ping pong game at carnivals? It’s the game were you toss pings pongs at little cups, and if your ball lands in a cup, you win a prize, usually a goldfish? Well, the two fishes we got were in the cups that lined the edges of the playing field. For the entire length of the carnival, ping pong balls had been tossed at them from every angle, bumping their cups, landing in their water, a never-ending aerial attack. As a result, the two fish were more than a little shell shocked, and slightly twitchy in nature.

My mother proudly smiling with a slightly wicked grin presented Andrew and I with our fish. I took mine with a muttered, “Why, thank you, Mother,” in a tone of voice that sent her into gleeful laughter. Andrew’s reaction was actually beyond what she and I expected- he went absolutely gaga over the fish. He gave my mother a huge hug and couldn't stop babbling his thanks: “Oh, my gosh, this is so cool, these fish are so cool, thank you so much, it’s so awesome, I love fish, I love you, thank you, this is so cool, totally awesome, just unbelievable, thank you so much….” Etc, etc., etc!

Andrew’s joyous reaction sealed the fishes fate. There was no way we couldn't keep them. I had no choice but to immediately go out and buy a fish bowl and all the other accoutrement's of fish ownership- gravel, nets, fish food, fish medicine, fish toys, so many fish stuff that I could never keep track of. Adding to my annoyance at our two scaly new pets, all this fish equipment was bought with my very first paycheck from my very first full time job straight out of college. Sigh.

Now, despite the massive amounts of equipment we bought for the two fish, I seriously didn't expect the fish to last long; they were front line carnival fish, after all. Believing that they wouldn't be long for this world, when Andrew asked me what I would name my fish, I said the first name that came to mind: Bubba. Such a name to grace a fish with. Andrew, much more creative than I, named his fish Goldie. Thus christened with such thought provoking, insightful names, Bubba and Goldie began their lives together with us.

Despite my expectations, the two fish thrive under Andrew’s care. Rather than going belly up within a week, they got bigger. They thrived in their new home and under Andrew’s attentive care. By the time Andrew and I had gotten married and moved into our new apartment, the goldfish had double their size, and were proudly listed by Andrew on our rental agreement as our beloved pets. I, however, was still leery of their fishiness.

When Pompey joined our family, I wondered about the safety of our fish. Weren't cats and fish natural predators? Despite my protestations that I couldn't care less about the fish, I was secretly worried for their safety, and moved their bowl high up atop our tallest piece of furniture. I needn't have worried, however, Pompey, quite active in his youth, found his way up to the top of that tallest piece of furniture, saw the fish, and promptly jumped back down, terrified of their fishy faces. Later encounters with his goldfish roommates left Pompey curious, but never hungry. He never once tried to eat them.

Since Pompey showed no predatory instincts towards the fish, and the fact that they had survived for well over a year despite all the odds, Bubba and Goldie acquired a nickname: The Fishies Who Will Not Die. Along with their new nickname, the fish acquired a great big new home: a spacey 10 gallon tank. They also grew much, much larger.

And so life went with the two fish. When Caesar was adopted into our family, he also showed a distinct lack of interest in the fish, although he was fond of sleeping on top of the big tank. They truly were The Fishies Who Will Not Die. We moved several times and, pardon the pun, the fish traveled swimmingly. Every day, the fish contently swam around their big tank, floating in and out of their play castle, playing hide and seek among the rocks and plants. I would stare at them and wonder at their big, bulging eyes, their mouths that constantly gaped open, and silently, though I wouldn't even admit it to myself, admired their long, fan-like tails.

Years passed, until Bubba and Goldie were almost 6 years old. Goldie began to look a little tired. Her games of hide and seek weren't quite as festive as before. She seemed to sleep at the bottom of the tank a little too often. One day, she merely stopped being altogether, and we found her floating at the top of the tank, ready for a burial into the greater sea.

Bubba alone seemed just odd to me. He seemed lonely in his tank. He didn't swim around as much or play in his castle. He spent more time at the edge of his world, staring out from the water and glass out at us. I knew that Bubba needed another friend. He was a tough fish, but a lonely fish, and I just knew he would be happier with some new friends.

I begin to pester Andrew about getting some new fish. "Bubba looks lonely. He needs a friend. When are you going to get a new fish?" Andrew found the situation amusing. For years, I was completely hands off the fish, wanting nothing to do with them. This sudden 180 of mine was immensely amusing to him, and he enjoyed teasing me about it. "See, see. I knew you liked the fish! Admit it, you have a soft spot for the fish!" Yes, Andrew had a lot of fun with my about face, but eventually, he, too, decided the time was right to get Bubba some new friends.

Andrew went out fish shopping, since I knew nothing about the care and feeding and friending of fish, and selected two new goldfish, of a variety he called 'fancy.' One was a mix of white and gold, with a fan-like tail, and the other was all gold, with black specks all over. Andrew named them Spot and Pepper. Bubba immediately named them new friends.

All three fish seemed to get along swimmingly. They spent their first day together swimming around the tank, playing hide and seek, and having a fishy good time. After a long time of sadness, Bubba was happy again.

Yet, a mere two days after his new friends joined him in the tank, Spot and Pepper began to look a little ill. Their shinny scaled were dull and their bulging eyes were glazed. By the third day, both Spot and Pepper were sent to a burial into the greater sea.

Andrew immediately moved Bubba to a bowl, so that the tank could be cleaned. Bubba seemed okay, but a bit bewildered. First Goldie and now Spot and Pepper. He also seemed tired. Andrew and I watched Bubba anxiously. Would he fall to the same ills as Spot and Pepper? We gave him medicine, just to be safe, and then waited.

Bubba was a tough fish. I had complete confidence that he would survive. He had survived ping-pong missiles, multiple moves, and cat companions. Indeed, he seemed to be fighting his illness, too. He would sleep for a time at the bottom of his bowl, then wake up and swim around and around in laps, very energetic. Yes, he was tough, he was a fighter, but even the strong fall sometimes. Two days after Spot and Pepper went to sea, Bubba joined them.

Now, the tank is empty. Nothing swims between the rocks and in the castle. Caesar, so found of sleeping on the tank, stays away. Andrew looks at the tank sadly, having no fish to take care of. As for me, I don't like looking at the tank. There are no more bulging eyes, gaping mouths, or long flowing fins to admire. I never knew I could miss something like a fish. But then again, Bubba was no ordinary fish- he was my fish.

Day Five's Random Photo

2007-12-30T21:30:00.000-06:00

My sweet, kind, gentle Andrew happens to be a die-hard rock and heavy metal fan. His absolute favorite band in the whole wide world is KISS (you can read his thoughts about the band here). As for myself, well, I can't stand KISS. I think their music is lackluster, unoriginal, and really repetative (the songs are all about the same thing- yeesh!).

Yet, as this is Andrew's favorite band, and I love Andrew, I try to be supportive. As a result, our basement could be a shrine to the band- we have pillows and throws and pitchers and mugs and models and posters and incense burners and rubuic's cubes and, well, you get the picture. We have a lot of KISS stuff. Andrew also has all their CDs and DVDs and tons of tee shirts bearing their make-up landen images.

Loving wife that I am, I even own a few tee-shirts like the tank above and their KISS perfume (Andrew has the cologne naturally). I have even gone to a KISS concert in full makeup, although photos of that are top secret. Sigh. The things one does for love!

Day Four's Random Photo

2007-12-30T20:57:00.000-06:00

Day four's much delayed photo is of my calendar. Why? Because I apparently think that a week has an additional 14 days in it, which is the length of time between this random photo and my last random one. Sigh. So I took a picture of my calendar to help me remember to keep track of the days!

Andrew and I found this calendar at the Renaissance Fair in Pennsylvania several years ago. It is based on an old monastery calendar, and we fell in love with the unique design. You simply slide the three hanging pieces into the proper place to keep track of the days. I just love the simplicity of the design and its timeless (oh, bad pun!) nature.

Happy Holidays!

2007-12-30T20:51:00.000-06:00

Happy Holidays!

I hope everyone has a joyous holiday season!

Delayed!

2007-12-27T19:53:00.000-06:00

The holidays have eaten me!

I have not forgotten my week of "Random Photos," its just been seasonally delayed! Stay tuned for more photo fun!

Day Three's Random Photos

2007-12-15T00:03:00.001-06:00

Welcome to day three's random photos! Any guesses what today's photo of randomness is?

If you guessed "Card Catalog," you'd be right! Now, quick, run to your local library and check out a book as your prizes!

Isn't an old fashion card catalog just beautiful? I spied this beauty on a recent tour of a neighboring library, and I just had to snap a picture!

I remember using card catalogs when I was a kid. I loved flipping through all the little cards, searching for just the right book. There was a wonderful, tactile experience to searching through the catalog, and when searching for one book in the catalog, I would often stumble upon other interesting books because those little cards were so hard to resist reading.

These days, the old fashion card catalogs have been replaced by modern, computerized catalogs that do a wonderful job of searching for books and other materials. I love using them, but sometimes, I get a little nostalgic for those little, typed cards.

This library I visited actually still uses their card catalog, although it has been re-purposed for another use:

Some would say this is ironic, but I think its a little sad.

Day Two's Random Photo

2007-12-13T22:34:00.001-06:00

Today's random photo is of the stairs in my house. Aren't they exciting? No? Really?

Well, for me, stairs are kind of like the white picket fence dream. All my life I've lived in apartments, completely flat apartments, so I've always dreamed of a house with stairs. When Andrew and I moved into this home, I spent months playing a little game: I would climb up the top stairs and call out to Andrew:

-Hey Andrew!
-What?
-Guess what?
-What?
-I'm upstairs!

Sometimes, I would climb downstairs, and call out:

-Hey Andrew!
-What?
-Guess what?
-What?
-I'm downstairs!

Hysterical laughter followed- at least on my part. Andrew, the kind man, would just smile and try not to roll his eyes.

I've now lived in this place for over two years, and I still really love my stairs. They are as white picket fence great as I always thought they were. I love the fact that my home has levels! The upstairs is the private area, the bedrooms; the main floor is for entertaining; and the basement, which is furnished, is a fun rec room. Plus, I discovered a fantastic benefit to stairs: they make a great bookshelf! All of my overflow of books stack so nicely up the sides of my staircase

Ah, bliss!

Day One's Random Photos!

2007-12-12T22:46:00.000-06:00

Long, long ago, taking pictures was a luxury. Film- remember film?- was expensive, and a roll of film only had 24 shots in it. Therefore, each picture taken was carefully planned and executed so that precious strip of film would not go to waste. Still, after each picture was taken, questions would form in your mind: "Did the picture come out right?", "Did Aunt Sally just blink?", and "Was my thumb in the viewfinder again?" Since it was also expensive to develop film, these question would linger for quite a while. I remember one time when my mother and I waited so long to develop a few rolls of film that when we finally did it, the photos were from three years previous. Now that was one long wait!

These days, however, taking pictures is much simpler. With a digital camera, you can take as many pictures as your heart desires. If you don't like the way your picture turns out, take another one; If Aunt Sally blinks, you can take another picture; If your thumb is in the way, delete the shot and take a new one! With one little memory card, you can take hundreds of pictures until the card is full to bursting, then download them all onto your computer and then take even more pictures on your newly empty card! If you want to actually print out your pictures, you can simply pick and choose the ones you want printed. It's a far cry from those long ago days.

With this new found photo freedom, I tend to go a little overboard. There's no film to waste, no money to spend, just one little button click and instant photo gratification! Therefore, I take lots and lots of photos. Some of them are great photos, some of them are silly, and some are just plain ridiculous. One of my most frequent photo subjects are my cats. They do such sweet and cute things that I simply must take pictures of them!

Pompey, Sleeping

Pretty Octavian

Peaceful Caesar

Aren't they cute? See why I can't resist snapping pictures of them? The only problem is, of each of these shots, I probably have six more examples of each shot, because I just can't stop taking pictures!

Sometimes, the pictures I take turn out quite amusing:

What did you say?!

So I like to fish, got a problem with that?

Get that camera out of my face!

But, sometimes I can catch the sweetest moments, like these:

Thanks for sharing with me!

Witty's New Toy!

2007-12-11T15:15:00.001-06:00

The other day, the C.O.P* was acting so cute and cuddly that I just had to take a picture. I grabbed my digital camera, took aim, and -click- snapped the picture. But, tragedy of tragedies, nothing happened. I clicked again and still nothing happened. So I tried once more- hey! Three times a charm, right? Nope, not for me. Nothing.

I decided the batteries must be dead, so I replaced the batteries. Still, nothing. Then it must be the memory card. I switched out the memory card. Again, nothing. Maybe it was an operator error- i.e. me- so I handed it over to Andrew. Once more, nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing!

My poor digital camera had died. It had served me well for many a years, and I was heartbroken.

Well, okay, I was heartbroken up until the point when Andrew pointed out that this was a perfect time for me to get a new digital camera and my techie heart rejoiced!

So, although I still mourn for my dead first camera, I am jumping up and down with joy for my lovely brand new camera.

Now, in celebration of my new toy, I've decided to spend the week posting all the strange and random things I take pictures of with my digital camera simply because my camera is so cool and new and fun to use. I hope you enjoy the celebration!

*The C.O.P is the brand new nickname for my three boys, Caesar, Octavian and Pompey.

The Cats got Elfed!

2007-12-11T14:28:00.000-06:00

Happy Holidays from the C.O.P.*

Enjoy the video!

*C.O.P= Caesar, Octavian, and Pompey!

Sweet Octavian

2007-12-06T11:26:00.000-06:00

Recently, Andrew and I welcomed into our home a new set of pitter-pattering little paws. Our newest little fur-baby is a lovely, sweet natured cat with big blue eyes, chocolate and caramel colored fur, and the most charming ability to flop in adorable positions. He’s also a special type of cat, a breed called a Ragdoll*. Ragdolls are known for their mild manner, blue eyes, and soft long fur. Their name derives from their incredible ability to melt in your arms when you hold them. Our Sweet Octavian** is a delightful new member of our family, and his arrival at our house was quite a story!

It all started two days before my birthday. My mother was spending an idle afternoon browsing the ads on craigslist.com, having fun looking at all the items people try to sell or giveaway. There was the usual assortment of goods: free sofas, boxes, haircuts, etc. Nothing too exciting until her eye was caught by a posting at the top of the page. It was an odd posting, with an unusual headline: “Free Ragdoll Cat to a Good Home.”

“A Ragdoll? Witty’s favorite cat?***” My mother clicked on the ad “It’s too good to be true” she thought. Yet the ad seemed innocent enough. A family had moved and their beloved Ragdoll wasn’t adjusting well to the new house. It seemed a plausible enough scenario, so mom figured that it was at least worth forwarding to Andrew and me.

My mother’s email floated off into cyberspace and landed in mine and Andrew’s inboxes. Usually, during the course of a day at work, Andrew never has a chance to read his email as he’s swamped by experiments, but on this day, he had a rare moment’s break, and decided to see if he had any good email awaiting him. As he scanned through his inbox, my mother’s email jumped out at him: “Free Ragdoll Cat to a Good Home.”

“A Ragdoll?” Andrew knew it was my favorite type of cat. He remembered how delighted I was at a local cat show when I had the opportunity to hold one and felt it melt into my arms. It had been a little joke of ours, that on every birthday or gift-giving holiday, that I would grin and say “I want a Ragdoll,” whenever he asked what I wanted as a present. He also knew that although I loved Ragdoll cats dearly, I thought I would never own one because they were too expensive and there were so many other homeless cats that needed help. Yet, here was an offer for a free Ragdoll cat, one who needed a safe home to come home to, and two days before my birthday no less.

Andrew wanted to consult me about the Ragdoll, but there was a slight problem: I was at an all day conference, with no access to a phone or internet. I had no idea about the ad my mother forwarded to me. Andrew thought for a moment: getting a third cat is a big decision, one he normally would never make without me. Yet, a Ragdoll was my dream, it was two days before my birthday, and this was an opportunity that couldn’t be missed. He picked up the phone and called the number in the ad.

It was an interesting call. A very nice woman answered the phone and talked to Joel about her sweet cat. She was heartbroken to think of giving him up, but he was not adjusting well to a recent move. Her family had moved from a big house to a much smaller one. They had another cat and a dog, and the Ragdoll had suddenly become terrified of the dog, and spent all his days hiding from the dog. He was normally very affectionate and very social, and now he was never seen.

After almost three months of the cat hiding from the dog, the woman decided to take him to stay at a friend’s house for a while, to see how he managed. The change was immediate. The sweet and cuddly cat returned, and the woman, though sad, realized that her Ragdoll needed a new home. So she placed the ad on craigslist.com to see if anyone might want her lovely cat and provide him a good home.

Andrew told her all about us and our fur-babies. He told her of Caesar and Pompey, how well they got along, how they joined our family. He told her of our years of fostering cats: how we had tamed feral cats; treated diabetic cats; nursed back to help sick cats; gave love and affectionate to lonely cats. He explained about my love of Ragdolls, how I always said I wanted one, and how, believe it or not, my birthday was just around the corner.

The woman couldn’t believe it. She had been reluctant about placing the ad, but Andrew and I sounded like the perfect candidates for her cat. She agreed to meet with us to see if we were indeed as good of a match as we sounded. A time and place was arranged, and Andrew hung up the phone, delighted that my dream was coming together.

Then, Andrew’s phone rang. He picked it up. It was my mother. “Andrew,” she said, “I’m sorry to call you at work, but I sent you an email about a free Ragdoll cat a little while ago. I know Witty’s always wanted one, so I thought I should pass it on, but I just checked out craigslist again and the ad’s gone! Animals aren’t supposed to be posted on the free section. And I just realized that Witty’s not going to get my email until late tonight since she’s gone! Do you think you should call?”

The ad was gone! Andrew couldn’t believe his luck. He reassured my mom that he had already called about the cat. He told her he just couldn’t pass up the chance at that cat. They both breathed a sigh of relief- my mom because Andrew had called, and Andrew because my mom thought he should call. Now all that was left to do was to tell me about the cat.

That evening, when I got home, Andrew was grinning like a Cheshire cat. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. He asked about my day, and I told him all about my meeting and my day. I then asked him about his. “Well,” he said, “It was interesting. Do you think you might want to get a Ragdoll this weekend?”

My jaw dropped. I asked him to repeat himself. He then explained the whole story of the craigslist ad, the long phone conversation, and his and my mom’s wish to make my wish come true. I couldn’t believe it. I threw my arms around Andrew in a big hug, and didn’t let go for a long time. It was incredible!

Our meeting with the woman was the very next day, and in preparation, Andrew and I put together a little photo album of Caesar and Pompey, and of all our foster cats. We wanted her to see them all, so she could know that we were serious about our love of cats and our ability to care for them. Eagerly, we drove off to the meeting, hoping against home that a Ragdoll would soon be ours.

We met the woman at her friend’s home. She was very nice and sweet. We spent time talking about her cat, why she was giving him up and how hard it was. We told her some more stories of our cats, and all of our adventures fostering. We should her out albums, and she couldn’t believe the number of cats we had taken care of. She asked us how we would handle adding a third cat into our family, and we explained how we would go about incorporating another cat: a safe room to himself for a while, then slowly allowing him to mingle with our cats, until they all adjusted to each other.

As we talked, she grew more at ease with us and told us, that although she had been unsure about giving up her cat, having met us and heard our stories, she knew that we were the right home for her cat. So she got up, went into another room, and brought out the cat.

Oh, he was beautiful! His fur was so soft and silky, his eyes so big and blue. He immediately flopped down on the floor in front of me, begging to be pet. I happily obliged. Immediately, a loud, rumbling purr started- the loudest purr I had ever heard. Oh, it was love at first purr! This beautiful, sweet fur-baby was mine.

Seeing the cat’s reaction to me, the woman made up her mind, and told us that we could have the sweet cat, and if we wanted, we could take him home right away. We were thrilled! We thanked her profusely, and I gave her a big hug in thanks. We exchanged phone numbers and email addresses so we could keep in touch, and we promised to send pictures of the cat when he got settled. We then went home with the newest member of our family.

Since then, it has been a delight getting to know Octavian. He has adapted well to his new home. He likes to follow us around the house, always right at our heels. At night, he sprawls across the foot of the bed, his contented purr a nice compliment to Pompey’s sighing snores. Of his two new brothers, he’s very intrigued by them. In Pompey, he sees a great play fellow, and in Caesar, he sees someone to admire. He does the most amazing flops around the house, begging for us to take a moment to scratch his fluffy tummy. We adore our little Octavian, the dream come true that he is, and the best birthday present I've ever had, thanks to my mother and Andrew!

* Want to learn more about Ragdolls? Check out this site for more information: http://rfwclub.org/

**As always, names have been changed to protect the furry. Octavian’s name derives from the second season of Rome, of which Octavian Caesar was the star. I thought it fit nicely with Caesar and Pompey’s names!

***By the way, I’m Witty, nice to meet you!

Maple Pecan Pie Recipe

2007-11-27T15:07:00.000-06:00

Here is the ultra delcious pecan pie recipe I used this Thanksgiving, curtesy of Bon Appétit magazine:

Maple Pecan Pie

3 large eggs

1/2 cup (packed) golden brown sugar

1/2 cup pure maple syrup

1/2 cup dark corn syrup

1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted

1/8 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 (heaping) cups pecans halves

1 Pie Crust (use your favorite recipe!)

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Whisk eggs and brown sugar in medium bowl until well blended.

Whisk in maple syrup,corn syrup, melted butter, and salt.

Stir in pecans.

Pour filling into an unbaked crust.

Bake pie until filling is slightly puffed and set, about 40 minutes (my oven required 50 minutes).

Transfer to rack and cool.

Eat and enjoy!

Happy Thanksgiving

2007-11-23T01:43:00.000-06:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

Please, enjoy a yummy slice of virtual Pecan Pie on me!

Giving Thanks

2007-11-21T17:30:00.000-06:00

Since it is the time for giving thanks, I would like to share with you, my dear readers, those precious things for which I am thankful for this year.

Always, I am thankful for Andrew. He is warm and kindhearted, he brings joy and laughter into my life each sweet day.

I am thankful for my mother, who over the years has become more than a parent but my best friend.

I am thankful for my grandmother who gives my family strength and love us all wholeheartedly.

I am thankful for my father who reaches out across the miles to connect with me.

I am thankful for my in laws, who have made me feel welcomed in their family.

I am thankful to my friends and family, for being such wonderful people in all their many ways.

I am thankful for having a job I love and working with people who are more than just co-workers, but friends.

I am thankful for my sweet little cats who provide love and comfort every day.

I am thankful for all the little things in life that pass by each day, almost without notice: the comfort of my house on a cool fall day, the endless stacks of books waiting to be read, the sound of the rain falling on leafs outside, the beauty of a blue cloudless sky, the delicious scent of pies baking, and so much more that passes by day by day.

And I am thankful to you, my dear readers, for taking time out of your day to share some time with me.

Take care, and have a joyous holiday.

Whisper of the Heart

2007-11-13T00:07:00.001-06:00

I recently had the pleasure of watching a delightful movie called Whisper of the Heart by animation genius Hayao Miyazaki, head of the animation group powerhouse Studio Ghibli. Miyazaki is probably best known in the United States for his Oscar winning film Spirited Away, his environmental masterpiece Princess Mononoke, the delightful Howl's Moving Castle, and the timeless classic My Neighbor Totoro. He creates wonderful films that fills viewers with a sense of wonder and enchantment. Whisper of the Heart is no exception.

This is a gentle and quiet film, full of life's small wonders and delights. The movie revolves around Shizuku, a young girl with a love of books and a sense of adventure. Shizuku has spent her summer reading book after book from her local library, eager to meet her goal of reading 200 books before school begins again. She thrills to delve into a new stories that whisk her away from her ordinary life in Tokyo. Shizuku also has a delightful sense of fun and whimsy that leads her to one day follow the trail of a strange cat she found riding on the train. What she finds send her on her own adventure, a quest to find herself, with the aid of a new friend Seiji Amasaw, using her love of books and stories, combined with her love of adventure.

This is simply a delightful movie, with sweet little twists and turns. Miyazaki has the unique ability to capture the pure innocence of youth, how delight can be found in even the most ordinary of things- a garden, a puddle, clouds in the sky, a statue, and even a cat. His animation style is both striking and captivating, focusing on small details and using images from Japanese folklore, creating an experience not soon forgotten.

Whisper of the Heart is a lovely slice-of-life film, a glimpse into a young girl's mind as she embraces who she is and her potential in life, and one I highly recommend. It combines the best of all worlds: books, , libraries, and cats, with a sweet romance thrown in as well! Oh, and did I forget to mention that the music of John Denver plays a significant role in the film? If you have the time, I am sure your local library has the film in its collection. For Shizuku's sake, you should check it out!

Happy Halloween

2007-10-31T18:58:00.000-06:00

Happy Halloween!

No fur baby was harmed in the taking of this picture- rather he was just confused for the 30 seconds he had the costume on!

Hail, Caesar!

2007-10-29T10:53:00.000-06:00

Today, I was looking at Caesar, my regal cat, as he prowled about the house, playing and romping with Pompey, and then elegantly flopping on the floor for attention, and I couldn't help but think back fondly to the time when he joined my little family.

At the time we adopted Caesar, Andrew and I really had no plans of getting another cat. Pompey had been with us for two years, and was a joy in every way. He was simply an affectionate cat, lavishing us with love each and every day, and friendly to all visitors in our home. We were a happy little family.

As a proud mother of an adorable fur baby, I often browsed pet stores for new toys, collars and gadgets to spoil Pompey with. One of my favorite stores, PetSmart, works with local animal shelters to adopt homeless animals, and whenever I went into the store to get something for Pompey, I would always take a peek at the cats available for adoption, sometimes stopping to pet and coo at particularly sweet looking cats.

It was on one such visit that a cat of distinguished bearing caught my eye. He was a tall, long, and lean cat, with a charming pink nose outlined in black, and a most rakishly nipped ear. He was approachable and friendly, running up to the front of his cage to greet visitors with a little head butt and a sweet "Meow."

I stopped for a moment to say hello, and gave him a few scratches on the head. The cat's outgoing nature reminded me of Pompey waiting at home, loving and playful, and I thought to myself, "Well, this charming fellow will surely find a home soon!" Giving him another quick pet, I left to continue my shopping and head home, happy having spent a few moments of kitty time with a sweet new cat.

It was some two weeks later that I found myself back at PetSmart, looking for some new kitty supplies. As always, I headed toward the adoption center, eager to see what new faces awaited me there. The adoption center always had a fast turn around, and each visit to the center was greeted with a whole new group of adorable, adoptable cats. When I arrived, sure enough, new cats were prancing about their cages, looking eager for a new home. Yet, something seemed a little amiss to me as I looked at all those cats, and suddenly, I saw why. The distinguished looking cat from my last visit was still there, waiting to be adopted.

Unlike last time, he was curled up towards the back of his cage, looking a little dejected. I felt sad for the cat because I remembered what an affectionate fellow he was on the last visit, so I went over to the cage to say hello again. When the cat saw me approach, he uncurled himself from his resting spot and trotted up to the front of the cage, giving a little head butt when he reached me. I spent several minutes giving him scratches and pets, talking to him in a friendly manner. As before, he soaked it all up, giving sweet little purrs and lots of affection back.

I wondered why such a sweet cat was still at the center. I looked at his information tag on the front of the cage for answers. The tag stated that he was a friendly, loving cat, who loved children and got along well with other animals. He had been surrendered by his family because of a move. Nothing seemed amiss; as a matter of fact, he seemed like the perfect adoptable cat. Why then was he still there?

As I pondered the situation, one little notation on his information tag caught my eye. It was a simple thing, really, but it was the most likely cause for his still being in a cage, unadopted. As a matter of fact, it was a reason many cats remained unadopted in shelters. There, written innocently on his tag, was his age. He was almost five years old, and for cats seeking to be adopted, the older you were, the worse your chances for being adopted were. The reasons for this are varied: most people are drawn to the fuzzy little kittens; others want younger cats less settled in their ways so they can adapt to their new families, and still others think that if an older cat is up for adoption then surely something must be wrong with it.

Yet this cat I was petting was fine- darling, in fact! He was a charmer- surely someone could see that! A cat as sweet as this one would be adopted soon, despite his age- it was just taking a little longer than usual. So I left the store feeling a little sad, but positive that some loving family would see the potential in that cat and take him into a loving home.

It was a while before I headed back to PetSmart again, almost three weeks after my second meeting with the distinguished cat. When I returned to the store, I once again made my way back to the adoption center, eager to see all the fresh new kitty faces. My eyes swept the rows of cages, seeing cats of all colors and sizes. There were so many new faces, filling all the cages, although one cage appeared empty.

I strolled down the row, peeking into cages, giving the occasionally pat on the head to a friendly face. As I passed by the sole empty cage, I happened to glance in, just looking in idle curiosity. What I saw wasn’t an empty cage at all, but one lone cat, curled way in the back corner, huddled into himself. The cat looked so forlorn, my heart ached for him. I stood by the cage and murmured to the cat, entreating him to come say hello. Slowly, the cat lifted his head and I saw with dismay that it was the distinguished looking cat from my previous visits. He was still there, despite all the time that had passed.

The cat looked at me solemnly for a few minutes. He seemed so dejected, as if he had given up hope of finding a new home. How many times had someone been to his cage door, calling entreaties, offering scratches, and then just walked away? I myself had done so twice. I felt horrible, and afraid, too. Sometimes, if a cat is in a cage too long, with too little interaction, a cat can change. The cat can become mean, lashing out at anybody who comes near them. Other cats become sick, the loneliness causing them to stop eating, until they simply waste away. What had become of this cat?

Yet, slowly, the distinguished cat began to unfurl himself from the back corner of the cage, and headed over to me. He approached the front of the cage, and delicately sniffed at my fingers, almost as if he believed I might snatch them away. When I didn’t move, he then rubbed his head into my hand, and a slow purr emerged. The sweet cat was still there, just a little more cautious and a lot more sad. I spent several minutes lavishing him with all the affection I could.

With reluctance, I eventually left the center to head back home. My heart was heavy with worry for the cat I had left behind. He was so sweet and gentle, and I remembered how the first time I met him he had reminded me of Pompey. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I knew I needed to do something.

At home, I told of my worry to Andrew. He remembered I had mention the cat on previous occasions, and when he found out that the cat was still there, waiting for a home, he felt as I did, that something should be done. So we looked at each other, thinking of the cat waiting in a cage, and Andrew was the first to speak: “We should adopt him.”

Although we hadn’t previously thought of getting another cat, the idea suddenly took hold with a surprising strength. We looked around our apartment and knew we had enough room for another cat. We looked at Pompey, our loving cat, and thought of how well he got along with others, and how, although he was happy whenever we were around, perhaps he was lonely while we were at work? We looked at each other and wondered if perhaps the cat was still at the center because he was waiting for us.

Within moments of the idea settling in, we were in our car heading to the PetSmart. Once there, we headed towards the adoption center and over to the distinguished cat. He was once again curled in the back corner of the cage, huddled into himself, but when he saw us approach, he immediately got up and headed over to greet us. Andrew held out his hand and the cat went right over to him and began to run his head back and forth over Andrew’s hand. Andrew grinned as the deep purr of the cat rose up around us. “There was no way that this cat will remain in a cage, ” Andrew said to me. “He’s ours.”

We quickly tracked down an adoption coordinator and began filling out the forms. The coordinator was so thrilled that we wanted the cat. She knew us from all our various visits to the center, and could tell we had a deep love for cats. This cat in particular was a favorite of hers, and she, too, had been heartbroken that he had stayed in a cage for so long. With a glad heart, she handed us our newest family member, a sweet, distinguished looking cat with a loving nature.

We took our new fur baby home with happy hearts. Although we had not intended on a second cat, we knew from our trusty reference manual Cats for Dummies how to integrate a new animal into a household. Once more, as we had done for Pompey, we had a safe room set up and into that room we took our new cat. He immediately took to exploring the place with an avid curiosity, stopping occasionally to look at us to determine if we were still truly there. He was particularly interested in the little cat paws that occasionally poked underneath the safe room door- Pompey was attempting to say hi. Andrew and I smiled at each other, knowing that we had made the right choice, that this cat was indeed ours.

And so it has proven true. Our new cat, soon named Caesar*, fit into our lives like he had always been there. He loved to sleep at the foot of our bed at night, and liked to flop in front of door when we came home from work for some cuddle time. Most of all, he loved Pompey. The two of them took to each other like bees to honey. There was never any tension in introducing the two. Within minutes of their meeting, they were grooming each other and playing. It was like they were long lost brothers, finally reunited.

Caesar has become our joy- a vibrant light in our lives. His nature is very kind and loving, yet also regal and protective. When we adopted Caesar, we were also inspired to do something for the other cats we couldn’t save. Our hearts had broken at the thought of poor Caesar wasting away in a cage, so we decided to help by becoming a foster family for animals. Foster families work with shelters in caring for cats like Caesar. We take in sick cats and nurse them back to health. We take in sad cats and lavish them with love and affection. We take in feral cats and tame them. Mostly, we give cats hope and love. So far, every foster cat we have taken into our home has found a new, loving home to call their own. It’s a small thing to do, but each time we do so, we like to think we’re giving one more distinguished cat a change at a happy life.

Thank you, Caesar.

*Names have been changed to protect the furry! :)

Lisey's Story by Stephen King

2007-10-24T19:54:00.001-06:00

I have long been a fan of Stephen King. When I first started reading him way back in the seventh grade some countless years ago, I was looking for a type of terrifying read I couldn't find in any R.L.Stein book. King's books fairly shivered with fear. He captured horror on the page with the pen of a master, making ordinary things objects of sheer terror- cars, paintings, periods, and coke machines, just to name a few. I started with Carrie, and quickly followed with Salem's Lot, The Shining, Rose Madder, and The Stand, among others, in rapid succession.

What I didn't realize at first, and indeed, what is so often overlooked in King's writing is that which makes him a true master of his craft: it is not so much the horror of the situations he creates that terrify us, but rather it is the truth of his characters that carries the thrill. His characters seem so much like ourselves and our friends and our families that when they experience situations of sheer horror, we feel like we ourselves are suffering that very same terror.

Simply think about it: In all the great Stephen King novels, it is a character that pulls you in. Think of Carrie, the abused prom queen with terrifying powers. Think of Dolores Claiborne, that proud, strong, stubborn narrator of the book of the same name. What of poor, beleaguered and tortured writer Paul Sheldon, whose miserable experience we followed in Misery? Would any of these books be compelling if the characters were not people we could relate to?

Yet, for all that King’s past novels have carried this incredible power of character, it is in his latest novel that this talent truly shines. Lisey's Story is a poignant and powerful tale of love, carried on the shoulders of the memorable characters that live inside the novel.

The book opens with Lisey sorting through her husband Scott's belongings. Scott was a writer of world renown, and it is only two years after his death that Lisey has the heart to begin the arduous process of sorting through Scott's office, the one space that truly lives and breathes her husband's memory. As she browses through decades worth of magazines, journals and books that Scott contributed to, she is reminded of their past, of their life together. We, the reader, are treated to a journey of memories: harrowing, loving, and bittersweet memories, an accumulation of a lifetime spent together. We meander through first meetings, author tours, lover's talk, and even an attempted assassination.

Journeying with Lisey through her memories, an image of the love she and Scott shared is built. We see how a life is built together, each experience lending itself a new layer to a growing relationship. We learn of their secrets: lovers’ chats, secret words, painful moments, anger-filled fights. We even see how love endures, even after Scott’s death, with Lisey finding small, private jokes popping up in unexpected places in Scott’s office for Lisey to find.

And yet, as this is a book by the master of horror, there is an underlining to the story, a slow seeping otherness that shadows Scott and Lisey's life. It is Boo'ya Moon, a strange otherworldly place where Scott visits, seemingly for both escape and inspiration. It is a place of heart-wrenching beauty and unnamed horror waiting in the shadows. As much as Scott finds the wellspring of creativity in Boo'ya Moon, he finds an age-old demon that haunts him until his death. Lisey, both to bring closure to her life, and to reach out one more time to Scott's memory, travels to Boo'ya Moon, to conquer the demons, both real and imaginary, once and for all.

Between the exquisitely touching relationship of Scott and Lisey and the strangeness of Boo'ya Moon, this is a book to savor and enjoy. I found myself rereading passages, drinking in the words. Some pages thrilled me with scenes of slow drawn horror, others wooed me with sweet romance; my heart broke in some places, and my soul sobbed in others. When I turned the last page, it was with infinite sadness, for Lisey had become a dear friend, and I was distraught to let her go. It is a rare book indeed that can inspire such heights of emotion, and an even rarer author who can craft such a novel. It is with this book that Stephen King shows truly that horror is not the only thing he is a master of- he is a Master of Words, of Stories, of Characters, and Truth. I look forward to the next journey he takes me on.

Of Rome, Cats, and Silly Nicknames

2007-10-10T19:07:00.000-06:00

I have long been fascinated by ancient history. I love to immerse myself in stories of Ancient Egypt and Rome. I’ve spent many a pleasant evening absorbed in fascinating stories that take place in these long ago time periods. Cleopatra by Margaret George swept me away with its lush language and engrossing historical detail about that beautiful and intelligent Egyptian Queen. Troy and Ithaka, both by Adele Geras, were written with a rare lyrical beauty, bringing new life to the story of the fall of Troy, with the many stories weaving together to form a beautiful tapestry of words.

My fascination with this ancient past runs so deep that I spent two years studying Latin, just so that one day I might walk among the ruins of Ancient Rome and speak a familiar language. With this deep rooted fascination, is it any wonder I was captivated and intrigued with the HBO miniseries Rome? I stumbled upon this series quite by accident, actually. Having no television, I am generally out of the loop with current shows. It was only by sheer luck that I ran across a review for the DVD box set of the first season of this epic miniseries, and curiosity demanded that I immediately check it out from my local library.

What followed was an amazing thirteen hours of intense drama, superb acting, superior plots, and the most luscious of historical details. Andrew and I both found ourselves drawn into the world of Rome, which chronicled the rise and fall of Julius Caesar, both from the point of view of well known historical figures and the common man of the streets. Although we well knew how the tale ended- Caesar dead on the Senate floor- the twists and turns that led to that fatal ending had us gripping our seats in intense anticipation and emotional turmoil.

One of the plot aspects that kept us thoroughly engaged was the interactions of sometimes friends and sometimes enemies, Caesar and Pompey. We were fascinated by the push and pull these two characters had on each other. Even as they drew apart to fight on opposite sides of a power struggle, there was still that lingering tensions of a not-forgotten friendship.They fought side by side together in many a battle and, yet, time and power drew them apart.

Now, it might be apparent that these two characters,Caesar and Pompey, left quite an impression on Andrew and I. After all, our two furry little children are indeed nicknamed Caesar and Pompey. I wish I could say that the noble struggle of those two fascinating historical figures inspired our furry little children's aliases but, alas, that is not the case. Oh no, rather it was a series of exceptionally well timed cat antics that inspired their names.

It just so happened that one night, as Andrew and I were watching the final two episodes of Rome, biting our nails in anxiety as the end was near- both for Caesar and the mini-series-that our two cats decided to get playful right in front of our television. This in and of itself was nothing new, they play-fight all the time, chasing each other all around our house. This time, however, there play-fighting was a well choreographed duel that precisely matched that of the onscreen duel between Caesar and Pompey.

On screen, Caesar, lean and lithe, gave a mighty slash with his sword. Our Caesar, lean and lithe, gave a mighty slash with his paw. On screen, Pompey, a little bit slow and pudgy from the good life, made a desperate counter slash with his sword. Our Pompey, a little bit slow and pudgy from the good life, made a desperate counter slash with his paw. Onscreen, Caesar attacked again with a graceful counter slash. Off screen, our Caesar attacked with a graceful counter slash. Onscreen, Pompey evaded with a several steps back and an ill swung swipe of his sword. Off screen, our Pompey evaded with a several steps back and an ill swung swipe of his paw.

For every blow that the onscreen Caesar gave, our Caesar followed. For every evasion the onscreen Pompey attempted, so, too, did our Pompey. When at last the battle ended, the onscreen Caesar was victorious but showed mercy to Pompey by letting him escape with his life. Our Caesar, no less generous, let our Pompey go with a sympathetic lick on the head.

It was that climatic battle that sealed our two furry children's fate. They had so accurately fought out the onscreen battle of Caesar and Pompey that they had become Caesar and Pompey. It only made sense that they should be named Caesar and Pompey in real life, if only as an occasional nickname for when they run rampant throughout the house.

And so it was, and so it is, that whenever the mood to chase each other wildly throughout the house arises in our cats, Andrew and I look at each and say, "The endless campaign of Caesar and Pompey begins anew." And the glory of Rome lives on.

All About Pompey

2007-09-26T18:21:00.000-06:00

Shortly after Andrew and I got married, we decided our life was missing something: the pitter patter of little feet, or more accurately, the pitter patter of four furry little paws. It was time to get a cat.

To prepare for our new arrival, we bought Cats for Dummies, a book that, for all that it has a silly title, is filled with valuable information. Together, we read the book from cover to cover, soaking up advice on how to find the perfect cat, and then how to care for that perfect cat. We went out and bought everything we needed and then some. We bought a litter box and food bowls, a scratching post and cat bed, pet brushes and nail trimmers, toys and more toys. We set everything up in our guest room, making it nice and cozy. Our book had said it was best to set up a "safe" room for a new cat, a place where they could feel comfortable as they adjusted to their new living environments. When everything was ready and in place, we felt we were ready to go out and find a cat.

We went to a nearby shelter, to see what cats were available for adoption. There were several other families looking, and Andrew and I joined the small crowd of "oohhing" and "ahhing" potential cat families. We spent time peeking into each cage, watching the cats as they lazed about or paced back and forth. We spent some time in the giant cat room at the shelter where the older cats spent their days in comfort. Was there a perfect cat for us at this shelter?

We wandered around the shelter some more, and my eye was caught by a cluster of people around one cage. The "ooohhhs" and "aaahhhs" were much louder at this cage, and I was curious as to why. I peeked in a gap between the cluster of people, and saw a little kitten, a very little, itty bitty kitten, prancing about, preening under all the attention and admiration he was receiving. He was easily the youngest and smallest kitten at the shelter, which might have explained all the admiration he was receiving. I thought he was cute, but nothing about the little kitten really called out to me.

I was about to turn away from the cage when something again caught my eye: movement. There was another kitten in the cage. He was slightly older and bigger, with black and white markings. He was trotting back and forth behind the younger kitten, eager to get some attention himself, but the large crowd ignored him in favor of the younger, smaller kitten. Something about that older kitten, the way he eagerly moved about, looking adoringly up at the faces peeking into his cage, tugged at my heart. I couldn't believe no one was paying any attention to him.

I decided to move in closer to the cage, elbowing my way past the crowd. I managed to wedge myself near a corner, and immediately the black and white kitten came running in my direction. He butted his head against the side of the cage, trying to get closer to me. We had an amusing few minutes of cage play, with him rubbing up against my fingers and prancing about in pleasure. Before long however, one of the other kitten's adoring fans requested to hold the itty bitty kitty, and I had to move away as the small kitten was placed into the welcome arms of one of his welcoming fans. My little black and white kitten looked crestfallen. Why had his roommate got picked up but not him? I immediately tapped the shelter attendant on the shoulder and asked if I could hold the black and white kitten. My request was granted.

That black and white kitten just melted into my arms, with a purr starting up immediately. He seemed so content to just be held. He looked up at me with golden eyes and seemed to say, "Gee, I could get use to this!" As I cradled him in my arms, I continued to walk around the room, looking into other cages. My little companion looked about with curiosity as we moved from cage to cage, but he never squirmed to get away, never growled at another cat, never did anything but purr contentedly. I must have held him for twenty minutes before I reluctantly passed him over to Andrew. The black and white kitten didn't put up a fuss, just again snuggled right down into Andrew's arms, and then looked up at him adoringly, as if to say "I like you!" Andrew became smitten with the kitten, too.

As Andrew held the kitten, we looked at each other. We looked at the little black and white kitten. The black and white kitten looked up at us. We knew we had found our cat. Andrew passed the kitten back to me and tracked down an attendant to start the adoption paperwork. I held that kitten for a half an hour while Andrew answered question after question on the adoption form. The little kitten never stopped purring and never made even the slightest move to get down. He was just content to be held and continued to look up at me with an adoring look upon his face. He knew he had found his family.

Although the shelter was no more than 15 minutes from our house, it was one of the longest car rides Andrew and I had ever shared, that drive home with our new kitten. The shelter had let us take our new family member home that very day, tucked safely away into a carrier. Our new kitten cried like his heart was broken during that car ride. He had started crying as soon as he was placed in the carrier because we were no longer in his sight. We talked soothingly to him, but nothing helped. We knew all that kitten wanted was to be held and to see his new family. We were never so grateful to get home in our lives!

Up in his new room, our kitten showed just a passing interest in his surroundings, rather, he was eager just to get closer to us. Andrew laid down on the floor and I sat down on the futon in the room, and the little kitten spent an hour running between the two of us. He eagerly would run up to Andrew, go nose to nose with him, and give Andrew several adoring licks on the nose. Then, the kitten would run across the room, jump up onto the futon, crawl into my lap, up my arms, onto to my shoulders, so he could get nose to nose with me and give several adoring licks to my nose. He repeated this endlessly, until he finally fell asleep in my lap with a cute kitty grin on his face. He was definitely happy in his new home and he loved his new family.

Later that evening, conscious of all that our trusty worthy Cats for Dummies book had told us, we kissed and petted our new little addition, newly named Pompey*, goodnight, and left him to the safety of his "safe" room. We immediately regretted it. Rather than spending the time exploring his new space, relishing in the safety of the 'safe' room, our little Pompey begin to cry. If Andrew and I thought that the car ride home was unendurable, well, this was worse. After having spent several blissful hours with us, Pompey couldn't bear to be parted from us. He cried like the world was ending. Andrew and I stood outside the door, holding each other, willing each other the strength to do what the book told us what the right thing to do.

We caved.

Within fifteen minutes, we had let little Pompey out of his room, and he was having a grand time running around our house, exploring every nook and cranny. He never strayed far from our sight. In fact, Pompey would constantly run up to us, just to look at us. He always had this look upon his face, one that said, "Yup, you guys are still there!" Everything our book had told us to expect- shyness, a little fright, perhaps, the need for a secure space- this kitten didn't need. Apparently, we were his secure space. As long as Pompey had us, he was fine.

When it was time to go to bed, Andrew and I were firm in our resolve NOT to share our bedroom with the cat. We were not entirely sure we wanted a kitten, a very playful kitten, bounding and pouncing on top of us all night long. We decided that if Pompey had the full run of the house, he would surely be fine. There was lots to explore. We once more said good night to our new little fur baby, and then shut ourselves into our 'safe' room.

Well, by this point, I'm sure you can guess what happened. Little Pompey sat in front of our door and just sobbed his little heart out. Where were we? Where had we gone? He missed us. We couldn't take it. It was too much, this pitiful cry of Pompey's. We opened our door, and Pompey leaped joyously into our room and up onto our bed. He promptly claimed his own space right above our heads, nestled on the pillows, and fell right asleep. Andrew and I drifted off to sleep ourselves, lulled to dreamland by the gentle kitty snores and sighs of Pompey.

It's been five years since that first day with Pompey, and each day with him has been a joy. Pompey has been an endless source of love and devotion for us. We adore him just as much as he adores us. To this day, Andrew and I look at each other, look at Pompey, and wonder what we would ever do without him. He's such a wonderful member of our little family, a sweet little person in a furry package.

*Names have been changed to protect the furry! Pompey is just an amusing nickname for my furry little baby.

Life without Television.

2007-09-24T10:49:00.000-06:00

For the past two years, my husband Andrew and I have been conducting an interesting experiment: living life without television. We didn't intend to make it an experiment- quite frankly, our television-less state evolved from a move to a new apartment in which we were too lazy to call the local cable company to set things up and a strong desire to save fifty bucks a month. We had plans to at least get an antenna- but as we were too lazy and cheap to call a cable company, we never got around to that (as a side note, a relative got exasperated at our television-less state and bought us an antenna for Christmas last year. When we hooked it up in August, we were amused to see we only got two very fuzzy channels in languages we can't quite comprehend).

Being television-less has some interesting side effects. For one, we miss out on a lot of water cooler conversation. No, we haven't seen the latest Survivor or that action packed episode of 24. We're lost when it comes to Lost. We don't have a favorite hero on Heroes. Occasionally, we go through withdrawal. We had been addicts of shows like Law and Order and Monk, and suddenly, they were gone from our life. We'll never know if that criminal was brought to justice or what weird small clue solved the case. I in particular feel cravings for the Home and Garden channel, because I absolutely need to know the latest on home design (I like to dream!).

On the other hand, we find we have a lot of time on our hands. We read a lot. The latest Stephen King? We've read it. The final Harry Potter- we read it the night it came out (Okay, so did everyone!). We play games: Andrew still has yet to catch up to my some 5,000 point lead in Rummy, and I still can't beat him at Chess. We go for lots of walks. We play with out cats. Sometimes, we watch movies (we have no cable or antenna, but we still have that big black box collecting dust). We talk a lot. It's a nice quiet life, and we rather like it.

How long is this experiment going to last? I don't know. We've been dancing around the subject for a while now, wondering when we'll cave. The one thing we know is that when we do decide to get reconnected to the television life, we're going to make sure we know where that off button is and make good use of it.

Summer Reading Begins!

2007-06-22T13:26:00.000-06:00

Ah, Summer has returned. The sun shines bright in the sky, brilliant in its golden haze, the heat washes over the land in warm balmy waves, and people rejoice in all the light, greenery and warmth. Well, most people do, but as for myself, this becomes my huddle and hide season. During the summer, I love nothing more than to avoid the sun and heat, and curl up inside- with air conditioning!- and read a good book. I'm just not made for the heat, I suppose- I did grow up in an Arctic Climate (Iceland, anyone?) after all, but that's a story for another day!

Summer provides ample opportunities to indulge in my favorite activity, reading, but my reading is slightly altered during these summer months. As a children's librarian, I feel its my duty (okay, it's really a joy!) to immerse myself in all the new children's literature with an occasional classic thrown in for good measure. After all, summer is the one time of year kids have the chance to read for themselves, and I love being able to converse with my patrons about good books, ones they've read and ones I've read. Its one of the wonderful perks of my job. Therefore, my summer reading list is quite varied, as I jump from genre to genre in an effort to read as much wonderful children's literature as possible before September rolls around.

So what exactly am I reading? This summer is proving especially diverse: I started off with the hot Young Adult title, Twilight by Stephanie Meyers. This was recommended to me by a patron, who said it was a great book, and she absolutely loved it. I have to admit, too, that it was a pretty good, rollicking read. A story of young love with a twist- the main love interest just happens to be a vampire! The story is filled with lush descriptions, some intense action scenes, and a healthy dose of angst-filled romance. Narrated from the first person point of view of Bella, the 17 year old heroine, the tone is both warm and amusing, I found myself reaching for the sequel, New Moon almost immediately, and am anticipating buying the third and final book, Eclipse in the next few weeks.

I followed Twilight with a jaunt into animal fantasy by reading Kenneth Oppel's Silverwing. I have to confess, of all the genres of literature out there, animal fantasy is my least favorite. I just can never wrap my mind around the concept of animals acting like humans. Yet, for all that I am not found of animal fantasy, Silverwing proved to be a rather good read. Once I accepted the fact that I was following the story of a young male bat named Shade, I was quite charmed with his heroic journey to join his colony after being separated from them during a horrible storm. The characters, for bats, were quite diverse and well rounded, the action was gripping, and the bits of mystery scattered about (what are those silver bands some bats have?) were gripping. I might, just might, pick up the other two volumes in this trilogy.

Next up is actually another jaunt into animal fantasy: Swordbird by Nancy Yi Fan. This book caught my eye because the author started writing the book when she was 13. The novel is turning into an interesting allegory for peace, using tribes of birds as representatives for the human race. The plot is compelling (how to maintain peace when war is threatening from all corners) and the writing is fairly well done- outstanding, in fact, when you consider the age of the author!

The next few weeks are being claimed by perhaps the biggest phenomenon of the summer for children's literature- Harry Potter. I am an avid fan, of course, and with the seventh and final book about to be released, I want to refresh my memory of all the wonderful twists and turns of the past six books. Already, I have kids coming into the library wanting to discuss theories (is Snape good or evil? Will Voldemort or Harry die? Who is RAB?). It is fantastic to see so many children involved in this book series, and wonderful that, thanks to Harry, many have opened their minds up to other books. Harry Potter might just be the reason we have such a strong generation of readers!

My reading list will continue to grow over the summer as kids and friends and coworkers tell me of must read books ( The Manny Files by Christian Burch just landed into my to-read pile!). It will be interesting to see what the summer brings (just so long as I don't have to go outside!).

Heart Shaped Box by Joe Hill

2007-05-04T22:16:00.000-06:00

Heart Shaped Box is a hard novel to review. Not because it was a bad read, but because the author's background is hard to separate from the story. Joe Hill, soon after his book was published, was revealed to be the son of Stephen King. Some may say the revelation was a publicity stunt, and maybe it was on the publisher's part, but I do not believe this was Hill's desire. According to reports and interviews, Hill was careful not to tell his publishers exactly who he was until his manuscript was accepted on its own merits. I can respect and understand that: how can you know you are good if you are published on your father's laurels? Add in the fact that Heart Shaped Box is a ghost story and I believe Hill hands down. You have to be pretty blasted bold to write and publish a ghost story while hanging on your father's, the master of horror's, reputation.

So, for the moment, let us set aside the notion that Joe Hill is the son of Stephen King, and see how Hill stands on his on two feet.

Heart Shape Box opens on one of the most absurd, but logical premises: an aging rock star, Jude Coyne, (think an American Ozzy Osbourne, but one who was a little more sober) buys a ghost off an Internet auction site. Absurd, yes, but logical, too: after all, there seems to be EVERYTHING for sale on eBay. The ghost really does exist: a menacing figure of an old man, with disturbing black squiggles for eyes- as if a child scribbled on the eyes in a photograph with black marker. Yet, the ghost is no ordinary ghost, however, rather he is the ghost of the father of one of Jude's cast away girlfriends, and he's out for revenge.

What follows is a curvy, up and down ride of slow thrills and chills. Hill takes the simple yet absurd premise and builds up a tale of surprisingly chilling horror. Nothing is ever how it seems, neither Jude nor the ghost, the haunting or the haunted. The story itself takes off in directions not to be expected: for example, rather than stay and fight the ghost at home, Jude hits the road- if he has to fight a ghost, he'll fight it in his own way and time. The result is an enjoyable thrill ride, and a nagging feeling to check the eyes of any suspicious person for black scribbles.

Now, as mentioned above, Hill does have an impressive family background, and the question remains: how does he compare? The answer is simple, yet complex. Joe Hill stands on his own. If you read the book with no knowledge of who his father is, you would find it perfectly enjoyable: the writing is impressive, well composed; the plot is quirky, unique, enjoyable; the characters seem like old friends. Those same traits, though, are what his father is known for. Yet, rather than just being an imitation of King's style, Hill has shaped that style into a form of his own. The bones are the same, the delivery- excellently done- is all his own. It is obvious Hill learned on the knee of a master, but it is also apparent that Hill is a writer of his own merits- one to watch.

Bottom line: Joe Hill is a writer to watch, and his parentage just makes the package all the sweeter.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

2007-05-04T21:52:00.000-06:00

You may have heard of this book, The Road by Cormac McCarthy, it was recently selected for Oprah's Book Club. It was really amusing, actually, because the day before the book was announced, I ran across a review of the book, which reminded me I wanted to read this title due to the interesting concept, and I placed a hold at the library for it. Who knew that this grim little book would be Oprah's book choice?

And The Road is a a grim little book. It is sparse and dry, empty and full of quiet heartbreak. One does not smile reading this book. One does not feel joy reading this book. McCarthy paints a bleak future, where man hunts man and the world is dead. After closing the pages of this book, I felt tired and emotionally dead. The book left me feeling there was no hope in the world, if that was the end.

The story follows a nameless man and his son. In this future world, names do not matter, only survival. The man strives on only for his son: if he can stay alive, so can his son. The son is suppose to be a bright beacon. He still believes in good guys and honesty and something waiting at the end of the world. Yet the world this child walk through shows nothing to support this belief in good amd a future. The earth is dust, dry and barren. The few people encountered on the road are theives and cannibals. Starvation is a constant companion.

Yet, for all that the book is depressing and draining, it is compelling. Although you know there is no hope, it is written into the very landscape of the novel, you read on, hoping against hope for some ray of hope. The writing is crisp and smooth: McCarthy has a deft hand at words. If you are looking to go on a journey with a master storyteller, regardless of an outcome of sheer darkness, than this is a book to persue, but if you are simply wishing for a pleasent read, well, one might wish to look elsewhere.

Angelica by Arthur Phillips

2007-04-17T22:42:00.000-06:00

On the surface, Angelica seems simple enough: a classic take on the Victorian ghost story, with a slight psychological twist. The plot revolves around a young mother in Victorian England who begins to suspect that her daughter is being haunted by a vengeful ghost. But what begins as a simple Victorian thriller spins out to be a complex and thought-provoking study of human relationships and the delicate nature of the human psyche.

The book starts from the point of view of Constance Barton. Her young daughter, Angelica, is finally being sent to stay in her own room, after having spent the first four years of her young life sleeping in her parents' room. The move is more traumatic to Constance as a mother than it is for her young daughter. Angelica is Constance's only child, after a painful series of ill-fated pregnancies. She also serves as Constance's protection from intimacy with her husband Joseph: Constance has been warned that having further children will kill her, and as a result she fears her husband's touch.

On Angelica's first night in her own room, Constance wakes in the middle of the night, feeling uneasy and bothered by a slightly noxious smell. She follows it to the door of her daughter's room, peers in and sees a ghostly sight: a faint blue glow hovering over her daughter. Thus begins Constance's battle with nightly terrors, and the reader's journey into wonder: What is Constance seeing? Is it truly a ghost? Is Constance stress and terror over the separation from her daughter causing hallucinations? Or is something even more sinister at work?

When Constance's story reaches its pinnacle, the novel takes an unexpected turn: the story turns back on itself, and begins again, only this time from the perspective of Anne Montague, a medium whom Constance called upon for help. Things first seen from Constance's perspective are now shown in a new light: conversations have a new depth, events a slight twist. Angelica's haunting is seen with a fresh eye and new suspicions: the mystery expands as new details are revealed. Anne's tale then spins to a close to reveal the same tale again, this time from Joseph's point of view. The book closes with the recollections of Angelica herself.

The effect of a story told in four parts, over and over again, from a different perspective is an unusual one: a fifth perspective is created. That fifth perspective is that of us, the reader. Following the tale as told by four separate voices, one cannot help but tell the tale to themselves, thus creating one's own private interprations of events. The result is a tale both engaging and thought provoking, one that will stay with a reader long after the book is done.

Angelica is one of those rare books that, when you close the cover on the final page, you can't help but see the world in a new light.

Who am I? And why are you reading me?

2007-04-17T22:25:00.000-06:00

Welcome to my little spot on the Internet! After idly reading other people's blogs for ages and ages, I decided it was time to be a lemming and start my own blog of random musings.

I have to confess, though, that I live a very boring life with not much excitement in it. I'd wondered for a while what on earth to blog about, without much success, until just the other day inspiration struck! While my life is fairly boring, I liven things up by reading, reading, and reading. To say I am an avid reader would be an understatement- I am never without a book, never. So, I thought I would blog about the books I read, or rather, those books I feel merit blogging about (I'll spare you the boring ones!). Occasionally, I might even comment on movies, TV shows, and other random occurrences in my life, as the mood strikes me.

Beyond all that, who am I really? Well, that's a secret! But, as my name suggests, I am indeed a librarian (hence the love of books), but that "witty" part is up for debate. I am also happily married to Andrew and have two adorable fuzzy children, Caesar and Pompey (they're cats, so they are suppose to be fuzzy).

So that's me, and this is my blog. I hope you enjoy it, and maybe you'll find a good book or two or a dozen (and remember, all books are available at your local library!).