November Book Report: A Spool of Blue Thread

This book is like so many Anne Tyler novels, centered on a family with its own faults and quirks and set squarely in the Baltimore that Tyler so clearly loves.  It’s the story of the Whitshank family, who appear like any typical family on the surface and, like so many typical families, are anything but typical in the quirks and fault lines that reveal themselves as the novel unfolds.

I pick up Anne Tyler novels when I’m in the mood for a meaty story about a family.  I am a reader who likes happy endings and Tyler offers no guarantee of those, but neither do her novels end with dramatic sadness.  The book was an entre into a family not much like my own but, because it is a family with all the emotions families feel, it was familiar.  It was rather an easy read but also a story that lingers well after I read the last page.

Tyler is an artist; a capable and adept writer who constructs characters both sympathetic and tiresome, both awkward and adept; people who are recognizable in their very humanity.  I enjoyed this book and have thought about the story since I read it.  That’s the magic of an Anne Tyler book.  

Throwback Year 15

JT grew tall in year 15 and regularly towered over T and I.

He was a workhorse of snow removal.

There was sass, of course.

When I look at these pictures, I see glimpses of his face today.  More often I see his childhood in this still boyish face.  We were a year away from the transformation that would be age 16.

This is the last of the chubby-cheeked boy.  A young man was on his way.

Signs of Winter

It is customary for the Fall mums to get a tad raggedy as November unfolds.  Some months, the squirrels who have finished feasting on my garden produce turn their interest toward the pumpkins on the front porch.   This month was a whole new game in the squirrel dining plan.  I came home one day to find that the pumpkin on the table by the rocking chair had become a squirrel buffet that afternoon.  Squirrels are frantic and untidy diners.

From then on, the pumpkins and gourds on the porch were fair game for the squirrels, who are both bold and disorganized when it comes to porch snacking.  T and I are convinced that there must be some kind of weather prognosticator in such a development……..as in, when the squirrels eat half a pumpkin in one afternoon, it’s going to be a long winter.  Surely there is something to  be read in this type of pumpkin and gourd killing spree.

We’ll see about that.  I the meantime, the pumpkins have been disposed and the worn out mums have been sent to the compost pile.  Now that the squirrel buffet is closing, I’m looking forward to evergreens, pinecones, and twinkling lights for the month of December.  

Grateful

Some years ago, a sump pump was installed in my basement.  Before that pump went in, basement water was a semi-regular feature of Spring life around here.  Since the pump, basement water is pumped on out to the street, thus saving me from a whole lot of anxiety.

The fool in the White House doesn’t see it, but climate change has brought greater extremes to New Jersey.  One of those extremes has been more precipitation.  My corner of New Jersey has had nearly ten inches of rain in November.  Four inches fell in six hours on Saturday; another inch fell yesterday afternoon.  The basement pump is getting after it and every 30 minutes or so I hear it come on and do its job.  When I hear the sound a chorus of gratitude echos in my mind.

Thank you little sump pump.  Thank you.

Here We Go

After a much-appreciated five day holiday, I return to classes today. In the world of schools, the weeks before Winter Break are always insane.  The kids are excited and expectant about both the December holidays and the two week break the holidays will provide.  But there is a lot of school to be held in the meantime; 19 school days spread over four weeks.  But who’s counting?

In my school in the coming weeks, in addition to our regular classes, there are first trimester report cards to send out, a 7th grade field trip to Philadelphia, three Winter music concerts to be performed, the start of the Winter sports season, a Geography Bee, and an 8th grade auction to organize and hold.  All of this is accomplished in just under four weeks and with the prospect of Winter weather and a snow day always on the minds of the students.

This morning, as I sit in the dark quiet of early morning and enjoy my coffee, my mind whirls with thoughts of the busy days to come.  Home, and all of its comforts, will be my sanctuary in the coming month.  I look forward to the holiday traditions December will bring, especially the smell of a pine branches and the sparkle of holiday lights.  They are my moment of calm in the jam-packed days.  I love them even more for that.

Fall Chores

In my town, September signals the start fall clean up.  The town distributes large paper bags for us to collect our leaves.  Each week after that, a big trick rolls around and collects the leaf bags for mulching.  Many of my neighbors start leaf collection as soon as leaves begin to fall in October.  I suspect this is because they are overly fond of the leaf blowers they have on hand.  I am in no hurry to start the chore and wait until November to get after it.  By then, the leaves on my trees have all fallen.

Yesterday was the appointed day and T and I set out with our leaf bags, the rake, out leaf-grabbing hands, and an ingenious new device to keep the paper collection bags open.  

We collected the leaves in the drive way and front curb.   I mulch most of the back yard leaves into the garden for poor man’s fertilizer and there is no hurry to get after that chore.  Our leaf bag tool worked like a charm and in a few hours we had filled 14 leaf bags for the town to collect.

The driveway looks a lot neater now.

After the job was done, I rewarded myself by planting tulip bulbs in various flower beds.  They will bloom in the Spring, a nice treat to contemplate.  That’s happy!

Thanksgiving Supper

I love holiday cooking, both for the celebration it creates and the traditions that I serve.  I enjoy planning the meal, organizing the cooking, and then sitting down with my loved ones to have supper together.  This year, there were some appetizers before the turkey was served.

And then supper itself.  

There was laughter and good humor and the pleasure of having my boy home from college.  That’s happy!

Traditions: Cornbread Dressing

I am not a fan of stuffing, especially the kind that gets crammed into a roasted bird for Thanksgiving.  I am a fan of cornbread dressing, which is a million times more delicious and doesn’t carry the risk of salmonella poisoning.  My recipe is based on an old Southern Living version and it’s deceptively simple: stale cornbread (I bake it the day before and let it set out overnight), finely minced onion and jalapeño, pepper, and chicken stock.  

I mix that all together and then place it in a casserole dish that came from my grandmother.  I can’t be sure, but to me that makes it taste better.  

Before supper is served, I bake it and enjoy the savory smell.  I make cornbread dressing every Thanksgiving.  It’s a tradition I cherish.  As I stir together the ingredients, I think of past holidays and family, both those with us and those who have passed, and I appreciate the many blessings I have enjoyed over the years.  

Cornbread dressing tastes like home and that’s happy!

Throwback Year 14

JT was in the 8th grade when he turned 14.  At turns, he was playful.

And then grown up, as he finished 8th grade and started 9th.

To celebrate how hard he worked in 8th grade, T and I took him to St. Louis to see Cardinal Stadium and watch a game.

In June, we travelled to Scandinavia with my family to celebrate my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary.

It was a year with laughter and adventure and, on this day, I am especially thankful for the memories.

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!

On Gratitude

It’s quiet this morning, as I drink my coffee and plan out the day.’s pre-Thanksgiving cooking  JT is home and asleep; when I slipped downstairs, both cats were in bed with him.  Like me, they are glad to have him home.  With his return, we’ve all slipped back into our old routines.  Later this morning, JT will wake up and come downstairs to step out onto the porch in his pajamas to assess the running conditions.  He’ll go out for run in the familiar streets and parks of our town.  Then he’ll shower and bring the laundry downstairs.  He’ll grab a snack before he goes off to see A, like he’s done countless times in the last few years.

Moments like these used to form the core of my days.  Now, they seem both familiar and special, as we make the transition to college-kid-home-for-break mode.  So much is the same and yet so much is different.

I feel a surge of gratitude for the all the seemingly small blessings of this life: a healthy and happy child, a partner to love, a warm and cozy house to call home, the blessings of Thanksgiving supper we’ll enjoy together. tomorrow  There are so many more blessings, large and small, for which I am grateful on this day.  So I count each one, thankful beyond measure for the grace I have received.

He’s Home!

JT got home from college last night.  Though I’ve seen him quite a bit since he went off to Springfield in August, this is his first visit home. It’s nice to hear him in the house; we are all happy to have him back for a few days.  Last night, I got caught on college adventures and had time to marvel at how much this boy of mine has grown up.  He’s happy and well; his usual sassy self.

That’s happy!

Throwback Year 13

I started these posts to enjoy some happy memories of life as a full-time mama as I adjusted to life as the mama of a college boy.  Next week at this time, that boy will be home for Thanksgiving.  I’m looking forward to having him back in my house and under my care, convinced as I am that he needs a little spoiling and feeding.  

JT was a handful at age 13, alternately charming and sometimes frustrating as he made his way toward independence. That year, he enjoyed a birthday feast of the most unhealthy sort.

I quit fighting the battle over the need to wear long pants and a jacket, enduring the judgmental looks of other parents as needed.

I laughed where laughter was an option.

It was the last summer we went camping at Cape Cod, where the usual adventures abounded.

While we were camping that summer, I had a vision of what this boy would look like when he grew into a man.

This picture sits in my office, in a place where I spend my days with 13 year olds who, like 13 year olds everywhere, are amusing and infuriating in equal measure. It’s a reminder that 13 is on the cusp of big changes; the sort that bring an end to childhood; the kind that make patience, love, and laughter the best allies of parents everywhere.

Dogwood Monday: November 12

As predicted, a windy storm last week brought down the rest of the leaves.  The dogwood is holding on to one last leaf but the rest have fallen and await my rake.

On the same windy day that brought down the dogwood leaves, Old Man Tree dropped the rest of his leaves.  

Fall always seems to be like this; one day I look up and the leaves are gone, replaced by stark branch and cold days.  The days in November have passed in a similar blur; I expect the rest of the month will fly by just as quickly.  Fall is often that way for me.  

November Front Porch

Last Sunday afternoon, when I set swapped the flag and set out the November decor, the weather was just warm enough for me to sit outside after the job was complete.  The time change had the sun at just the right angle for it to warm me as I sat in the rocking chair.

This is the time of year when I say goodbye to lengthy afternoons on the porch.  I’m sad to see such days pass, though I realize they are sweeter because they don’t occupy in every month of the year.  I’m thankful for them while they last.  The November front porch has a thankful theme.  There are bright mums and pumpkins to celebrate the Fall.

Fairy lights on the lantern and around the mums brighten the nights even as they grow longer.  The flag welcomes Thanksgiving.

The wreath says welcome home.

Fall leaves will sweep across this porch all month long and I’ll enjoy the rustle they make.  Happy November, y’all!

Throwback Year 12

Looking back, the age of 12 saw a big transition for my boy.  There were braces to start things off.

By the end of the year, JT had sorted out the truth about Santa and learned to enjoy Christmas without that particular bit of magic.

There was a lot of change in the year that JT was 12; the move from 6th to 7th grade is a bigger change than just one year and one grade and all of that was evident the year my boy turned 12.  That fall, 7th grade health class required a weekend with Baby-Think-It-Over, an experience that found our boy being thoughtful.

The year included many of the adventures that reminded me that there was still a lot of little boy to be found.

Year 12 also marks the first time JT wore a school jersey and ran for a team.  Seen here at the starting line, jawing at his coach, he's the boy I know and love.

His first sport was cross country and that’s the sport that motivates him today.  Age 12 is not the first time I saw that running made JT happy, though it is the point I realized how much running could mean to him.  Six years flies by when it's spent running.

I Believe in Hope

My birthday is in early November and this year, as is sometimes the case, it’s on election day.  Truth be told, though I made a list of gifts I’d like to receive, I really have only have one birthday wish: lots of Democratic wins tonight.   Those wins will be especially sweet if they put more women in elected office.  I want a Democratic-controlled House of Representatives.  I’d also like a blue Senate, though I realize that’s an uphill climb.  If Beto O’Rourke somehow manages to win in Texas, I’ll be ecstatic.  I’ll feel the same way if Phil Bredesen wins in Tennessee.  In New Jersey, I’m excited about Mikey Sherrill and Tom Malinowski.  I think there will be some exciting Democratic wins in governor’s races.  I have my eye on Andrew Gillum in Florida and Stacey Abrams in Georgia.  These candidates are just the tip of a blue wave.  So many of the Democrats on the ballot today are my sort of candidate.  Given the horrifying outcome in 2016 and the last two years and, I long to shed some tears of joy when deserving Democrats win tonight.

T and I are having a birthday celebration at home and we’ll watch election returns all evening.  I’ve made plans for some celebratory food because that’s what I do.  I did this for the 2016 election and still remember assembling a cheese tray and thinking about how exciting it would be when Hillary made her acceptance speech.  We all know how that turned out.  Tonight’s returns can’t reverse that history but they may help us to reverse course and signal a wave of voters who demand decency and kindness in their elected officials.  I’m hopeful for an outcome that at least puts the brakes on Trump’s ugly madness.  

In 1984, the year I turned 17, election day was also on my birthday.  I had worked for the Mondale/Ferraro campaign and in true teenaged idealist fashion, I believed they would win.  As Reagan rolled to a landslide re-election victory, the idealist in me remained alive.  She’s been around ever since.  The last two years have challenged that world view.  

I stand here today at the edge of the abyss, with hope on one side in the form of leaders like Beto O’Rourke and Stacey Abrams.  On the side is the racist, sexist, ugly rhetoric of Trump and the modern GOP.  It feels like the most important election of my lifetime.  I’m going to vote with the blue wave this morning.  It’s a vote for our better angels.  It’s a vote to begin to take back my nation.  It’s a vote for hope.

Dogwood Monday: November 5

Over the past week, all of the dogwood’s leaves changed.  On Saturday morning, after the overnight clouds had cleared, the light shown through the leaves and inside the house we were bathed in a reddish-gold light.  It was splendid.

Some leaves have already fallen and thought the yard is covered; many more leaves still need to fall.  Some dry days and a burst of wind will take care of the rest of them.  The raking season has arrived.  

Until the rest of the leaves fall, I’ll enjoy the colors on the tree right now.  The time change means I have some more light in the morning and that’s rather nice, a chance to enjoy the last of the year’s dogwood leaves when I come downstairs in the morning.