From the archives: Living Room (A Mitford review)

First posted December 2007. Edited slightly.

I finished Shepherds Abiding. It didn't matter that it was the eighth in the series and that I didn't know all the characters...the story was exactly what I needed this week.

I've been thinking a lot about things and people that I miss (especially around the holidays), things that have changed, things I'm unhappy about (yes, there are some even though I don't blog about them), the fact that the living room won't stay cleaned (it's a living room), and the general imperfection that always seems to interfere and mess up the perfect life I always thought I was somehow entitled to.

Shepherds Abiding is full of imagery of things imperfect, broken, less than ideal. One-winged angels, families with missing siblings, lost letters, and, central to it all, an antique Nativity set that Father Tim is restoring as a Christmas present for his wife.

In a nice touch of irony, as Father Tim is consulting Botticelli paintings to choose the perfect colours for angels' robes, the ailing old man down the street is also making a present for his own wife: a wooden tray for her jewelery, with handles swiped from the kitchen cabinets. Both gifts are welcomed and loved.

The book is about restoring, repairing, finding what has been lost, and reconciling the past and the present. And even about extending grace from unexpected quarters: another couple sit "in their twin recliners" in front of a fake fireplace that "featured a forty-watt bulb that flowed through a revolving sheet of red cellophane." The wife opens a gift from a neighbour and recognizes something that she herself donated to a rummage sale "a hundred years ago."

"And to think I gave her a two-layer marmalade [cake]" [she said.]

"Th' poor woman has a gimp leg, Esther, which don't leave much room for shoppin'. Besides, why did you put it in th' Bane an' Blessin'? It looks perfectly good to me."

"Well, yes," said Esther, examining it more carefully. "After I put it in, I wished I hadn't."

"See?" said her husband, hammering down on a couple of cashews. "What goes around comes around."

It's about finding peace, mystery and wonder at Christmas in whatever place in the story you happen to be...understanding that God is allowing you to be a part of it all...whether your life is about Renaissance angels, or recliners, or somewhere in between.

It's about allowing some living room.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 2

In Volume 4, Book II, Part I, Section I, Chapter I (really), Charlotte Mason says that no Mansoul is left without the sense of ought.  I Ought means something like "I owe you one"; that is, there is a sense of somebody else involved. You can't owe money without owing it to someone, and there's always something marking that agreement: an I.O.U., a contract, or just a handshake. Our reminder that we owe ourselves to God is the thing called Conscience.

In Jan Karon's Mitford novel Light from Heaven, Father Tim has a confrontation with Sammy, a troubled young man who has moved in. Sammy complains that he's never had to follow so many rules before ("no cussin', no smokin'") and that it's too much to handle. Father Tim says he understands why it's hard for Sammy, since he's parented himself until now. Then he explains the purpose of rules in a way very close to what Charlotte Mason says here (p. 6): "Judging is saving. It is the continual calling of us back from wrong ways, which injure and ruin, into right ways of peace and happiness." Like the daycare in Toy Story 3, why would we choose the free-for-all of the Caterpillar Room over the safety and sanity of the Butterfly Room?

Well, like Sammy, sometimes we choose the chaos that's familiar. Or we think we can do better on our own, because then at least we have the satisfaction of nobody telling us what to do. Kneeling before anyone is not very popular these days.

But here's Mason's caution: "It is not enough to act according to our lights, if we choose to carry a dim wick in a dirty lantern, when we might have a good light" (p. 7, italics hers). And that's the whole thing. God is not taking, he's giving. He wants us to have something better. Father Tim doesn't have a plan to make Sammy miserable; he wants them to enjoy a home together. When Sammy chooses against "cussin' and smokin'," he's acknowledging that relationship.

When we live in the full light of Conscience...our Light from Heaven...we can't help recognizing the One who created it.

The Intentional Thrifter: Fall greys and Gathie Falk

I'm trying to use what I have to put together a fall wardrobe; but sometimes you need to buy things to fill in gaps. I do have a very warm grey cardigan from last winter, but this acrylic one isn't quite as heavy, and it has interesting side cutouts (less material to bunch up).

Another good basic: a grey cotton pullover.

Some recent book finds. Gathie Falk is a Canadian artist, and this is a nice coffee-table-type book about her and her work. Patches of Godlight is a Jan Karon Mitford go-with that I rarely see. The third book, The Violence of Organized Forgetting, got mixed reviews from readers, but I am going to check it out anyway.

Quote for the day: Which do you think?

"He wondered whether the inveterate reader runs for a book when it snows, or if snow itself is entertainment enough." ~~ Jan Karon, Somewhere Safe With Somebody Good

First Sunday of Advent

"During the long days before Christmas, he could scarcely wait to put the Babe in the manger, and often made the trek to the silver drawer of the sideboard to peer at the infant resting safely in tbe bowl of a gravy ladle. At a time when his friends had stopped believing in Santa Claus, he was still believing in the powerful reality of the small tableau..." ~~ Jan Karon, Shepherds Abiding

On the true cost of things

Mr. Fixit is working on a vintage stereo amplifier that was in nice shape on the outside, but needed a complicated electronic repair to make it work properly. He discovered an original advertisement for the amp on someone's website, and it appears that it sold for $389 in 1961.

 And that's why some vintage items are scarce. It's not only their age, it's that relatively few were made, because hardly anybody could afford to pay almost $400 for a stereo component...not even a whole stereo system, just the amp...in 1961. You could buy a used car for that much, back then, or a whole lot of groceries.

One of our two current T.V.'s is from the 1990's. Mr. Fixit says that it would have cost about $300 new, but so would a television set twenty years before that. $300 for a television in the 1970's was a lot of money, but on the other hand, you expected it to last longer. Most people in 2016 are not watching shows on a 1990's T.V., if they're watching them on a T.V. at all. We're just weird that way.

In the 1960's and '70's, stereo components were luxury items. So, to some extent, were $300 televisions. So were a lot of other fancy things. We admired our friend's backyard swimming pool, but understood that not everybody could have one. My Barbie Country Camper cost a whole $10.99 in 1973, and that was a big Christmas present. I had the camper, and somebody else had a Barbie house. I took my camper and my dolls to her house, and we played together. Not everybody had everything.When our family's T.V. stopped working, we didn't buy a new one right away; we borrowed a portable set from a relative and perched it on top of the big one until we could get the old television fixed or replaced. (This happened more than once, and I have the photos of our stacked T.V. sets to prove it.)

There is an understanding that we've lost, over many years of almost everything being so available, so cheap, and that is that it's okay not to have a house or closet full of everything, all the time. That if you're fortunate enough to acquire something special--a painting, let's say, or a very good cooking tool (like a great knife), or a beautiful rose bush, or a $60 bag of organic coffee, you take care of it, give it some pride of place, make it into a ritual or a specialty (hopefully not an idol), share the enjoyment of it with others. And if you don't have any of those things, maybe you have something else; maybe you're the one with the good stereo or the fish tank or the big yard.

I think that's why ideas like minimalist wardrobes are catching on.  If you have a favourite coat, you wear it a lot, maybe every day, and the question of someone else's newer or nicer coat doesn't enter into it. Eventually, you notice that it's time for a new one, and you decide to go coat-shopping, but probably not before that. I think it's the equivalent of trimming our Christmas lists down to "Two storied pencil box. Flexible flier sled. Box of paints. Princess and Curdie."

What don't we need to make us happy?

As a postscript, I knew there were definitely too many things in the world when I found out that a particular large giftware corporation sells model buildings based on Jan Karon's Mitford novels.

Quote for the day: Father Tim likes Marcus Aurelius

In Jan Karon's novel Shepherds Abiding, Father Tim quotes Marcus Aurelius to an elderly friend:

“The first rule is to keep an untroubled spirit. The second is to look things in the face and know them for what they are.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 

Here are a few others 

“Reject your sense of injury and the injury itself disappears.” 

“How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it.”

“The best revenge is not to be like your enemy.” 

“When another blames you or hates you, or people voice similar criticisms, go to their souls, penetrate inside and see what sort of people they are. You will realize that there is no need to be racked with anxiety that they should hold any particular opinion about you.” 

Homeschooling, still frugal thrifty cheap but hard to write about it

I used to post a lot about ways to save money homeschooling--how to recycle, make your own, use the library and other freebies, read thrifted books, visit the neighbour with the bird feeder. Sometimes it was hard to see what people were spending homeschool money on at all, when there were so many low-cost ways to keep K to 6's busy learning.

These days my thrifty-homeschooler posts are fewer, but there are reasons for that.  Although there are certainly more ways than ever to spend homeschool dollars, I think people are also more aware of free online resources.  There are whole websites set up just to let you know about good deals and freebies, and about the whole world of online stuff.  Homeschooling-Ideas.com, for example.

Also, I think I don't mention as much about "ways we do math for less" or whatever, because an eighth grader tends to be using the same materials pretty much every day.  The elementary grades make better "homeschool copy."

Finally, we don't homeschool frugally just for the sake of frugality (if anyone does), so it's sometimes hard to write about it from that perspective.  If you read here much you might possibly know that I've mentioned that the math book we're using (Math: A Human Endeavor) was a chance find about ten years ago, and that I got the workbook through a used source right afterwards,  when the prices were still reasonable, and then The Apprentice ended up using only a few lessons in the workbook because she had way too much other homework in her public school courses.  So math this year is basically free. I didn't give it to Lydia in the sense of dumping leftovers, but because she needed a different kind of math this year and there it was. We also already owned this year's grammar course, writing books, Bible and devotional books, and most of the books required for Ambleside Online Year 8. But I can only say "I found that one at the thrift store" so many times.

If I had to boil down any frugal homeschooling advice I have left, it might come out like this:

1.  Whenever possible, use what's available to you, assuming it's in decent shape and appropriate for your students' needs, rather than going out and spending money on something else.  Lydia has asked to bring Latin back into the curriculum this fall, after a four-year break; so for the time being, we're going to go back to the course that we were using then, reviewing what she learned in the fourth grade and getting to the bits that were too hard then.  It's appropriate for her needs because it teaches ecclesiastical pronunciation and some of her "uses" for Latin could include vocal music.  It's frugal because it's on the shelf and I don't have to print out online textbook pages.

2.  Same as Number One: use what comes your way whenever you can.  We started kindergarten almost twenty years ago with a program that is still used by many with young children.  It required tracking down a lot of specific picture books, some of which (even though the program itself was quite new) had gone out of print.  It seems to me that it would have been better for homeschoolers to have used maybe a few of those lessons with books they could access, then get brave enough to branch out with their own good books, rather than get too devoted to finding everything on the list.

3.  Same as Number Two:  make use of local resources.  I heard only recently that we had a nearby weather research station that gave tours--but then I found out that it's been closed, so I had to scratch that off the field trip list.  Since this is the year that we're doing lot of ecology and weather studies, that was disappointing.  However, we do have parks and galleries and concerts and libraries and a university with an earth museum and a number of other things--not for weather trips, I mean, but for other opportunities.  And some of them are cheap or free.

4.  Don't overuse You-tube, but don't overlook it either, especially for music.  And science help. And math.  And craft tutorials.  But a little goes a long way.

5.  Focus on high-quality, longterm, meaningful units, books, lesson plans, outside activities.  Fewer books, but better ones. More time on Old Narnia, less on the rules of writing.  To quote from someone who has just discovered the power of books:

"In this book, he was gettin' to be Sam and see what somebody named Sam was up to...they give him this book for a present an' he was gettin' to be Sam.  That was his favorite thing about books--they took you off to other people's lives an' places, but you could still set in your own chair by th' oil heater, warm as a mouse in a churn."  ~~ Jan Karon, Somewhere Safe with Somebody Good (the newest Mitford book)

Cartoon found here. 

Jan Karon's Somewhere Safe with Somebody Good (book review)

Somewhere Safe with Somebody Good: A New Mitford Novel, by Jan Karon.  G.P. Putnam's Sons / Penguin Books U.S.A., 2014.

If I could beam myself to one literary place to spend an afternoon just before Christmas, I think I'd go to Mitford.

A blurb somewhere warned that the newest Mitford novel "contains death."  That made me a bit leery of reading it, as we had been treated to a good dose of funerals in the last couple of Mitford installments.  However, without giving too much away, this one does not contain any big shockers you won't like; no major characters drop dead.  A few of them are obviously not doing so well these days, and there are a couple of close calls (a joyriding teenager wrecks Father Tim's Mustang), but for most of the book that's about as far as it goes. There also aren't any Barlowe siblings left to track down, so that ends that long-running subplot.

But there are surprises.  The best one is Coot Hendrick.  For most of the series, he's been on the fringe, somewhat despised, seemingly there mostly for rural comic relief.  In this book, he takes the stage, in more ways than one (you'll have to read it to find out).  It's a reminder that nobody is too far outside the circle, what Dallas Willard called the "divine conspiracy," to be drawn in, to become important and valued, to be able to give something in return.  I will never think of Green Eggs and Ham in quite the same way again.

As she often does, Jan Karon brings everything to a climax over the Christmas season.  If you liked Shepherds Abiding, you will, almost guaranteed, like this one too.  Like Shepherds Abiding, a lot of the plot centers around the Happy Endings bookstore, but there's a twist this time: Father Tim and crew are holding things together there while the owner faces her own crisis.

And as always, there are some serious talks about faith, among the faithful, the somewhat-interested, and those still on the run.  I like Father Tim's young "mini-me," saving his allowance for a copy of Wordsworth.  I like the online Scrabble players. I can deal with the slightly melodramatic limousine subplot (no, it's not Edith this time).  About the only character that I really don't buy is Mr. Edelman who runs the shoe store; he's a little too "oy" to be believable these days.

I don't know whether this is meant to be the last Mitford book or not. There are some loose ends, some things hinted at that never get really developed, but such is life.  For those who have missed Mitford while Father Tim went wandering through Mississippi and meddling in Ireland--this is definitely recommended.

Frugal Finds and Fixes, New Year's Edition

What have we done lately that doesn't involve money?  Around the holidays that's a tough one.  Even homemades require ingredients of one kind or another.  Sometimes you just want to do special things that do cost money.  We had some meals out over Christmas, and also a theater movie (we hardly ever go to movies).  But we did put dinner in the slow cooker for after the movie.  Actually Mr. Fixit did, and I appreciated that.

We did save some money...unfortunately...by having a proposed Boxing-weekend trip to Toronto knocked out from under us by the ice storm.  It just didn't seem like a really good time to be touristing there, with hundreds of people still out of power, subways not stopping at all the stations, and all kinds of other problems.  We do not get to Toronto very often (as in, hardly ever), and there are some things we'd like to do and people we'd like to see there, so we'll just call it a postponement.

On a more positive note, we got through the last week and a half with only one trip to the grocery store.  The fridge is a bit empty now, but we do have freezer and pantry food, so a medium-sized shop tomorrow should be enough.

Two of my daughters (one professional, one still learning) worked my hair over.  I pay for the supplies, but they don't charge me for their services.

The Apprentice found herself a comforter at Wal-mart, marked way down.  Possibly more than it should have been, but they honoured the price tag anyway.  She took it with her when she left to go back to school today.

I downloaded several e-books by Beth Moore that are free right now.  Not my usual kind of reading material, but I thought they were worth checking out. Details here.

Dollygirl has turned her attention, at least temporarily, from jewelery-making to sewing.  She found some purple stretchy fabric that had come from a yard sale, and has made herself a hat, a pair of fingerless gloves, a funny-faced stuffed head, and I'm not sure what else.

We stopped just long enough at the library today to drop off some DVDs and check the discarded-book rack.  Mama Squirrel found a copy of Home to Holly Springs (one of the "post-Mitford-series" books) for fifty cents, and also a short illustrated book about Dr. Gideon Mantell and the Iguanodon.  The second book is written at such a low reading level that they don't even expect children know how to pronounce "museum" without help; but for another fifty cents I still thought I'd add it to our rocks-and-fossils corner.

Mama Squirrel and Dollygirl both found some cool craft supplies and things for future holidays at a Michael's clearance sale, some at up to 80% off the original prices.  Dollygirl, especially, did really well; she found a couple of $15 craft kits marked down to $3, and spent this afternoon using one of them to make a safety-pin bracelet.

And if you really want to read some knock-your-socks-off frugal accomplishments, check out the comments on the Prudent Homemaker's post-Christmas post.  Man, those ladies make me feel like pretty small potatoes when it comes to saving money.  But every little bit helps, right?

It's Advent Not Christmas, Day 17: All I Want For Christmas

Some people can make a story, or a sermon, out of just about anything.  So here's an anything for today.

Actually it happened yesterday.  Mr. Fixit was having a checkup at the dentist's, and across the hall the other dentist was examining an emergency case: a young hockey player who had broken off four or five teeth in a game.  Not with a stick in the mouth, but by hitting a guard rail.

Hurray for our national pastime.

They brought his teeth along in a bag, but they were in too many pieces to put back together.  The dentist said the choices were between pulling all that remained of the broken teeth, and giving the boy a bridge, or doing implants.  They decided to go with the implants, but it will take about eight months to complete them.  (Mr. Fixit got the full benefit of this from across the hall.)

The cost?  Thousands of dollars.  Not covered by health care or work benefits.

Ouch, and again ouch.

So we have a ready-made example of our fragmented lives and hearts.  Like the shattered plaster angel in Jan Karon's Shepherds Abiding, sometimes there seem to be too many parts to put back together.  Sometimes the consequences of our mistakes and sins will be felt for the rest of our lives.  Like the mother bemoaning the cost of the repairs, sometimes we have no idea how we are even going to start making things right.

The long dark night of the teeth.

And yet the people walking in darkness have seen a great light (Isaiah 9:2).  There is something...Someone...that transcends, that heals the shattered, feeds the hungry, fills the empty.

Anticipating that...is Advent.

"Treasured Possessions" (Hidden Art of Homemaking, Chapter 5)

Heirloom-quality tablecloths, candlesticks, silver spoons, fine bedcovers? I don't relate much to the particular home-making items that Edith Schaeffer recommends we acquire in Chapter 5.  A candlestick wouldn't necessarily make a hotel room "homier" for me (and do hotels allow you to burn candles in the rooms, anyway? I'm thinking it might be a bit dangerous). 

And Edith knew as well as anyone that "lifetime" treasures could easily be lost or broken.  It was her sweaters that got chewed in the opportunity-for-recycling incident she describes in this chapter, and her wedding china that reportedly got broken by the Schaeffers'constant stream of houseguests.  Moths (mice?) and rust corrupt, cigarette sparks make holes, and careless guests break dishes.  It's a bit of a paradox that Edith describes, in such detail, the value of having your own special stuff; but that she could also see possessions as belonging, ultimately, to the Lord; that dishes and rugs could be somewhat expendable in the service of the Kingdom.

I do have a few treasured family items, but they're not the sort of things you'd want to cart around in a suitcase or that you'd use to dress up a temporary space: a piece of red glassware that was my grandmother's, a Psalter in German script that was passed down through her family, some photographs, my mother's earrings, and so on. I don't think those are the "treasured possessions" that Edith was talking about.

"What about me?"

I think she was shooting more for two types of home-related treasures. One would be just familiar, everyday (but also beautiful and individual) home stuff that becomes so much a part of your life that you, or your family, can't imagine home without it.  These days, instead of silver spoons, we might think of afghans or scrap quilts, pottery coffee mugs or bowls, a something-a-day calendar (somebody recently mentioned one with daily paintings), personalized pillowcases. 

And her point is that if you don't have any homey stuff like that, then you need to get busy and find some, or make some, or let your kids make some.

The second would be seasonal, ritual-type treasures, things like Christmas ornaments or a birthday plate. (Remember the Red Plates you could buy for special days?  The RedPlate.com site mentioned in that post is defunct, though.)

(Photo found here)

I'm thinking about my grandparents' move to a granny flat, after forty years in one house.  Somehow they managed to make their new living room look something like the old one.  My grandpa still had a special chair, and some of his steam-train memorabilia.  Grandma's coffee table was still topped by a particular millefiore paperweight.

I'm thinking of my own lifetime of moves and temporary living situations (summer places, university rooms), and there were quite a few; some achieved "home" and "connection" more than others.  When my sister and I were in university, our parents moved to a smaller house, and they had the attic space converted to bedrooms so we'd have a place to stay.  The nicest thing my dad did was to ask the carpenter to build bookcases for me around the staircase railing; it was a kind of "welcome home" even though I lived there for only a short time.

My biggest concern with this chapter, or rather its meaning now, isn't so much whether our treasure is silver candlesticks or something else; it's that, I think, the youngest ones among us--say the young adults and then that generation of grandchildren now making an appearance for many of my own friends--don't seem to cherish much that doesn't come from a big-box store (I don't mean couches and washing machines, but electronics).  Stuff is cheap, easy come, easy go; if something breaks, it often costs more to repair it than replace it, so out it goes.   They're more likely to make themselves feel at home somewhere by pulling out a laptop or an electronic device and playing a game or some music.  

There may be a small positive side to this in that our next generation feels less materialistic than their parents or grandparents; that is, they don't see themselves as caught up with "things."  They're less likely to register for wedding china and then cart it through several moves over a lifetime and then leave it to the grandchildren et cetera.  The prices on (used) Royal Doulton figurines have taken a dive in the last few years.  But this also means that they're not taught in the same way to care for things, to preserve, to treasure.   So here's the last point: if Jesus said to store up treasures in heaven, not on earth, isn't that a good attitude to have?

Maybe.  But as Edith says...without any material connections, we risk becoming splintered, unsettled.  Our longings for a home on earth may simply reflect our longings for home in heaven, but while we're here, can't we make our homes places that we care for, and where we know we are also cared for?

"She loved Clarence very tenderly; when he was yet a tot, she taught him to be gentle with all that he touched.  She began this patient instruction by giving him a rare piece of early Staffordshire, a milkmaid with a brown cow.  She taught him to lift the piece with great care and dust beneath it.  Over and over again, he did this under her watchful eye, with never a chip or a crack, Father, and he was but a toddler!  All that love pouring into him is today poured out into his beautiful [carved] bowls and animals and walking canes."  ~~ Jan Karon, Light from Heaven

Related posts:
Interior Decorating and The Friendly Giant (Chapter 5)
What Can We Do? Crafting a Home (Chapter 5)
Homemaking thoughts, Home-making blogs (Chapter 5)

Answers to Christmas Books Quiz 2012

This year's Christmas Books Quiz is here.

1. Anyway by midwinter Gandalf and Bilbo had come all the way back, along both edges of the Forest, to the doors of Beorn's house; and there for a while they both stayed. Yuletide was warm and merry there; and men came from far and wide to feast at Beorn's bidding.

The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien (1937)

2. She had suggested they open their gifts on Christmas evening in front of the fire, dressed in their favorite robes. Thank heaven her gift had arrived--and already wrapped, into the bargain. He'd had it delivered to Dora Pugh at the hardware, in case he couldn't be found at his office to sign for it. It was all too easy, he thought. Just call toll-free and talk to someone solicitous and give them a credit card number. It seemed a man should suffer a bit over what to give his beloved. Next year, he would do better.

These High, Green Hills, by Jan Karon (1996)

3. There were several parcels wrapped in white tissue paper, and one very large box with the inscription: "For Fräulein Maria for Distribution." Surrounded by the children I unpacked it, and out came eight pairs of woolen mittens, eight beautiful, soft, gray Wetterflecks, and eight pairs of heavy boots. This was a great surprise, and with a guilty heart, I hardly dared look at Baroness Matilda. But tonight was Christmas, and, shaking a finger at me, she only laughed.

The Story of the Trapp Family Singers, by Maria Augusta Trapp (1949)

4. "Just suppose Mrs. Beck had had to bring him up! What would he have been like?" "She wouldn't!" said Rand. "She'd have put him out on the doorstep...We must take great care to bring him up to know the Lord. Dale, I'm going to start in this Christmas Day telling him all about it! I'll tell him the story of the angels and the shepherds and the wise men, and the Christ who came and lived and died for him! I'll begin right away and I'll keep it up day after day. He's not going to able to say he never heard the truth." "George, how perfectly absurd! As if a baby like that could understand words!" said Dale with a tender smile. "Well, he may not be able to understand words," said Rand stubbornly, "but he's learning them all the time, and somehow he finds out what things mean."

Partners, by Grace Livingston Hill  (1940)

5. The window looked into the courtyard and all there was to see was the windows, storey above story, of the rooms opposite. On the gray Christmas morning it looked incredibly cheerless....While the maid was getting the logs he dressed himself, and then, when she got busy setting things to rights, he sat down and looked at the grim courtyard. He thought disconsolately of the jolly party at the Terry-Masons'. They would be having a glass of sherry now before sitting down to their Christmas dinner of turkey and plum pudding, and they would all be very gay, pleased with their Christmas presents, noisy and jolly.

Christmas Holiday, by Somerset Maugham (1939)

6. "A tree should have tinsel," said Mrs. Jones. She bought some tinsel. "And candles," she said. "Candles are prettier than electric light." She bought twelve red candles....And a tree should have some balls, thought Mrs. Jones, glass balls in jewel colors, ruby-red, emerald-green, and gold. She bought some balls and a box of tiny silver crackers and a tinsel star. When she got home she stood the tree in the window and dressed it, putting the star on top. "Who is to look at it?" asked Mr. Jones. Mrs. Jones thought for a moment and said, "Christmas needs children, Albert." Albert was Mr. Jones's name. "I wonder," said Mrs. Jones. "Couldn't we find a little girl?"

The Story of Holly and Ivy, by Rumer Godden (1958)

7. Imogene had the baby doll but she wasn't carrying it the way she was supposed to, cradled in her arms. She had it slung up over her shoulder, and before she put it in the manger she thumped it twice on the back. I heard Alice gasp and she poked me. "I don't think it's very nice to burp the baby Jesus," she whispered, "as if he had colic." Then she poked me again. "Do you suppose he could have had colic?"

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, by Barbara Robinson (1972)

8. "Greetings, greetings, greetings," said the three children. "What's that about?" said Mrs. Rogers. "You said to greet Aunt Myra with Carols," said Amelia Bedelia. "Here's Carol Lee, Carol Green, and Carol Lake." "What lovely Carols," said Aunt Myra. "Thank you."

Merry Christmas, Amelia Bedelia, by Peggy Parish (1986)

9. Santa Claus appeared to be rather doubtful. But Harold confidently went to work lining up the reindeer. Soon Prancer and Dancer were pawing at the snow, eager to be off around the world. Harold wasn't quite certain of the names of the other reindeer. But he made sure there were eight of them. They were all handsome and spirited animals.

Harold at the North Pole, by Crockett Johnson (1958)

10. It was past Vespers on Christmas Eve before Cadfael had time to make a brief visit to the town, to spend at least an hour with Aline, and take a gift to his two-year-old godson, a little wooden horse that Martin Bellecote the master-carpenter had made for him, with gaily coloured harness and trappings fit for a knight, made out of scraps of felt and cloth and leather by Cadfael himself...."I can stay no more than an hour," said Cadfael, as the boy scrambled down again to play with his new toy. "I must be back for Compline, and very soon after that begins Matins, and we shall be up all the night until Prime and the dawn Mass...." When he noted the sand in the glass and rose to take his leave, he went out from the hall into the bright glitter of frost, and a vault of stars now three times larger than when first they appeared, and crackling with brilliance....This night, the eve of the Nativity, hung about the town utterly still and silent, not a breath to temper the bite of the frost. Even the movements of such men as were abroad seemed hushed and almost stealthy, afraid to shake the wonder.

The Raven in the Foregate (Brother Cadfael Mysteries), by Ellis Peters (1986)

Mama Squirrel's Reading List, 2011

I didn't have a particular goal for this year's reading, so the list is pretty eclectic. This is the year I discovered George Eliot and Lloyd Alexander (I read through the Prydain Chronicles twice, once myself and once with Ponytails).   It was also a good year for art-inspired fiction.  (R) means it was a re-read.  § means I actually finished it.  A few of the books I didn't finish or didn't like have been left off the list..

Classic-type stuff

On the Art of Writing, by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Meno, by Plato (and I started reading a couple of other dialogues) §
"Lancelot and Elaine," by Alfred Lord Tennyson §
"Self-Reliance," by Ralph Waldo Emerson §
Parts of Plutarch's Lives (R)
Silas Marner, by George Eliot §
Scenes of Clerical Life, by George Eliot §
Middlemarch, by George Eliot
Great Expectations (R) (re-read with Crayons) §
The Abbot, by Sir Walter Scott §
Guy Mannering, by Sir Walter Scott §
The Incredulity of Father Brown, by G.K. Chesterton §
The Innocence of Father Brown, by G.K. Chesterton (R) §
The Scarlet Pimpernel (R) §
Candide, by Voltaire §

Science-type stuff
Not Even Wrong: The Failure of String Theory...., by Peter Woit

Theology-type stuff
The Pursuit of God, by A.W. Tozer
Making Men Whole, by J.B. Phillips §
The Call, by Os Guinness (R) §
Serious Times: Making Your Life Matter in an Urgent Day, by James Emery White §
Lessons I Learned in the Light, by Jennifer Rothschild §
One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp §
Parts of the Bible (RRRRR)

Old-favourites-type stuff
Shepherds Abiding, by Jan Karon (R) §
At Home in Mitford, by Jan Karon (R) §
Light from Heaven, by Jan Karon (R) §
The Trail of the Conestoga (R) (re-read with Crayons) §
Meet the Malones (R) (re-read with Crayons) §
Beany Malone (R) (re-read with Crayons) §
Daughter of Time, by Josephine Tey (R) §
An Episode of Sparrows, by Rumer Godden (R) §
In This House of Brede, by Rumer Godden (R) §
Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, by Anne Tyler (R) §
84, Charing Cross Road / The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, by Helene Hanff (R) §

Teaching-type stuff
Norms and Nobility, by David V. Hicks (R) §
Marva Collins' Way (R) §
"Ordinary" Children, Extraordinary Teachers, by Marva Collins §
Read & Grow Rich, by Burke Hedges §
Homeschooling Only One (R), by Donna Conner §
Schoolproof, by Mary Pride (R) §
Parts of Charlotte Mason's books  (R) 

Gurgi stuff
The Foundling and Other Tales of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander §
The Book of Three, by Lloyd Alexander §
The Black Cauldron, by Lloyd Alexander §
The Castle of Llyr, by Lloyd Alexander §
Taran Wanderer, by Lloyd Alexander §
The High King, by Lloyd Alexander §

Madeleine stuff
Walking on Water, by Madeleine L'Engle (R) §
A Wind in the Door, by Madeleine L'Engle §
A Swiftly Tilting Planet, by Madeleine L'Engle §
A Ring of Endless Light, by Madeleine L'Engle §
Two-Part Invention, by Madeleine L'Engle (R) §

More space-and-time stuff
C.S. Lewis: A Biography, by A.N. Wilson §
Till We Have Faces, by C.S. Lewis (R) §
The Great Divorce, by C.S. Lewis §
Out of the Silent Planet, by C.S. Lewis §
Perelandra, by C.S. Lewis §
That Hideous Strength, by C.S. Lewis §
Prince Caspian (R) §

Homey stuff
More Make it Fast, Cook It Slow, by Stephanie O'Dea §
Canada's Slow Cooker Winners, by Donna-Marie Pye §
Hooked: A Crocheter's Stash of Wit and Wisdom, ed. by Kari Cornell §
other craft books that I can't remember
Creating a Beautiful Home, by Alexandra Stoddard (R) §
two other books by Alexandra Stoddard §
Flanagan's Smart Home, by Barbara Flanagan §
Does This Clutter Make My B---- Look Fat?, by Peter Walsh §

Miscellaneous
Madam How and Lady Why, by Charles Kingsley (R) §
The Long-Ago Lake, by Marne Wilkins
A Passion for the Impossible (bio of Lilias Trotter), by Miriam Huffman Rockness §
Trial and Error, by Anthony Berkeley §)
Detectives in Togas, by Henry Winterfeld §
Roman Ransom, by Henry Winterfeld §
Lydia Cassatt Reading the Morning Paper, by Harriet Chessman §
Girl with a Pearl Earring, by Tracy Chevalier §
Out of the Storm, by Grace Livingston Hill §
Not Under the Law, by Grace Livingston Hill §
Beauty for Ashes, by Grace Livingston Hill §

Donna-Jean, have you seen this CD?

Thinking of you and yours.

What is Mama Squirrel reading?

(besides school books)

Come Walk with Me: A Woman's Personal Guide to Knowing God and Mentoring Others, by Carole Mayhall--I bought this from a Choice Books rack in a store at the airport. It covers a lot of good basics on the Christian life--things you thought you did know but maybe needed spelled out--or pounded in a bit harder. This is something that I thought might work for our adult Sunday School class, especially if we decide to do a separate women's study for awhile, especially because we have women of very different ages in the class--some mentors, some mentees, and some in the middle.

At Home in Mitford (re-read)

The Great Code: The Bible and Literature, by Northrop Frye. (partly re-read--I know I never quite finished this one before, so I'm starting it again)

A Quote For Sunday (Advent II)

"He found himself grinning all the way down the hall.

"Something was stirring in him, something strong and deep and definite. Suffice it to say he was beginning to know that Christmas was coming--not just on the calendar but in his very soul.

"This morning, Cynthia's reading had explained everything:

"'The Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen His glory.'"--Jan Karon, Shepherds Abiding

Books Read in 2009: The Storm, by Frederick Buechner

"It was a miracle, Willow had said, that Violet Sickert had been clever enough to bully Dalton Maxwell into coming to the island for the birthday weekend, and a miracle too that he had let himself be bullied. Violet Sickert was really not very clever, and Dalton Maxwell was of all men least tractable. Neverthleless it had happened, and by calling it miraculous she sensed the working of some behind-the-scenes power that now and then made things happen in a way that was different from the way they would have happened otherwise. She thought about the death of her first husband as another case in point. Who could have foreseen it--a healthy young man done in by something as ridiculous as having his appendix out? Yet that's the way it had fallen out....Who could say how different her life would have been if he had bounced out of the hospital with nothing more than a small pink scar? At times such as that, the power seemed to work as darkly as some deep-sea current that could suddenly, or so she had heard, drag down to destruction an entire ship and its crew. But at other times it seemed to be almost friendly."--Frederick Buechner, The Storm

Can you ever have too many versions of The Tempest? This is the second one I've read in the past year.

You don't have to have read Shakespeare's play to make sense of the book; it's only loosely based on it; but it does help to give the characters and setting some context. There's an island, although it's a summer resort for the wealthy, and nobody's shipwrecked on it. There's an 70ish man named Kenzie Maxwell who is struggling with events in his past--I suspect he's more or less Frederick Buechner. There are the equivalents of the evil Sycorax (Miss Sickert), the handsome but aimless young prince Ferdinand (Nandy), the monster Caliban (Calvert, whom one character says looks like a werewolf), and the sprite Ariel (Kenzie's windsurfing stepson Averill). There are also traces of Shakespeare in the storm, the boat, strange music in the air--or of the air-- (Rumer Godden also used that heavily in her version), and Kenzie's bathrobe decorated with stars and moons.

One reviewer commented that Buechner spent more time developing his characters than he did really doing anything with them, and I agree that the action and conflict, such as it is, all gets resolved quite quickly in the last few pages of the book. Maybe like a Shakespeare play. But still, I liked it a lot--probably more than anything else I've read this month. I think it's because of the affection he shows towards even his most unsympathetic characters, more even than we'd like him to give some of them. It's also interesting to read yet another book with older-than-average main characters (Jan Karon's Mitford novels come to mind, and The Bone Sharps was another one).

In that and in other ways (the emphasis on fractured or patchwork families, the older brother who can only hold things together if there are no surprises and variations), this book reminds me of some of Anne Tyler's novels. For Buechner, the line is very finely drawn between saints and sinners; in that, his characters are somewhat like Flannery O'Connor's. I also read a review that compared some of his work to that of Charles Williams, but I haven't read Charles Williams so can't give an opinion on that.

You can read the book fairly quickly, but there are things you'll want to come back to--some of the musings about destiny, and the place of what some call the numinous or the fates, some call the workings of God, in the way things turn out.

A postscript: Right after I posted this, Mr. Fixit was listening to Supertramp's album Breakfast in America, and some of the lyrics really jumped out at me in connection with this book. Maybe it's just the clichéed thinking of someone still somewhat mired in the 1980's, but maybe not.

Library Sale

The big downtown library had its annual sale this weekend, and we brought home a box and a bagful of books, about forty in all. Some were Crayons' choices, some were mine, and a few The Apprentice picked out. Some we've read before, and some just looked interesting.

A Story of the Group of Seven (Hunkin--about a well-known group of Canadian artists)
Cornelius Krieghoff (Hugues de Jouvancourt) (one of our term's artists)
Adventures of Richard Wagner (Opal Wheeler)
Young Brahms (Sybil Deucher--same series as the Wheeler music bios)
Elisabeth & the Water Troll (Wangerin)
Meet the Malones (Weber)
Beany Malone (Weber)
The Glass Slipper (Eleanor Farjeon--her version of Cinderella)
Go With the Poem (Lillian Moore)
The Unbroken Web (Richard Adams)
The Cuckoo Clock (Mary Stolz)
The Story of Holly and Ivy (Christmas story by Rumer Godden; we already have a copy of this, but this edition has illustrations by Barbara Cooney)
The Coat-Hanger Christmas Tree (Eleanor Estes)
'Round the Christmas Tree (Corrin)
The Alley (Eleanor Estes)
Doctor on an Elephant (Kroll)
Diamond in the Window (Langton)
Harry's Mad (Dick King-Smith--about a parrot)
Ben and Me

Backyard Vacation: Outdoor Fun
Mountain Bluebird (Hirschi)
Thanksgiving Fun
An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving (Alcott)
Cat's Cradles, Owl's Eyes
Crystals and Crystal Gardens
Sugar Free Kids' Cookery
Make Clothes Fun!
Miss Patch's Learn to Sew Book
Dancing Is (Ancona)
Ballet Company
Have Fun with Magnifying
The Past of Pastimes (Bartlett)
World of Swans
Music for Very Little People
Winners! Super Champions of Ice Hockey (don't ask)
Not Much News: Ruby's Letters from Home (Edna Staebler)
These High Green Hills (Jan Karon)

Happiness is, happiness isn't

Someone at church handed me a book to read called Happiness™ by Will Ferguson (Penguin Books, 2002) . I knew it was meant to be satirical; I didn't know just how much off-colour stuff I was going to have to muck through to get to the heart of it. Hip-waders would be advised.

However, I do like the premise of the book, and it did try to make some good points. It’s a novel about an (imaginary) self-help book called What I Learned On the Mountain that--astonishingly--works. And its impact (mostly negative) on the editor who discovered it and society in general. Some of the initial effects:

“People no longer felt estranged from their bodies. They felt connected. For the first time, possibly ever, Americans began to feel comfortable with who they were. Cosmetics went unsold; department stores stood half-deserted. Expensive perfumes were marked down and sat gathering dust. GQ magazine switched its emphasis from men’s fashion to articles on ‘fostering happiness.’ Dour Calvin Klein models stood on street corners holding up signs: ‘Will pout for food.’” (Happiness™)

Unfortunately, the spreading move of “happiness” not only begins to destroy the economy (the alcohol and tobacco market dries up alongside the cosmetics industry), but it (whatever it is) destroys people's minds and emotions as well. The editor, Edwin, comes to this conclusion:

“[It’s] a world without a soul. A world without laughter. Without real laughter. The kind that makes your heart ache and your eyes go blurry….we need our vices….because life is sad and short and over far too soon.”

One could argue that this version of happiness isn’t happiness at all, but some kind of selfish, mindless seeking after bliss. (bliss n : a state of extreme happiness [syn: blissfulness, cloud nine, seventh heaven, walking on air]) Edwin pleads for what he calls “joy” instead of “happiness.” However, you could also argue with Edwin’s definition of “joy” since it seems to be based only on celebrating the ugliness, pettiness and vices of humanity (accepting and enjoying what makes us human) rather than looking outwards from ourselves (e.g. to a supreme Being).

I hear echoes of Brave New World in this--the Noble Savage "claiming the right to be unhappy." However, Edwin isn't the Noble Savage by any means, or even Brave New World's questioning Bernard; he's a frustrated Gen-Xer who can't stand his wife, or his cat, or his boss, or his job, or the city he lives in. His only redeeming characteristic is that--somehow--he's one of the few people who read What I Learned On the Mountain and aren't taken in by it. This implies that he's worthy of telling the rest of us what supposedly makes life meaningful.

And I suppose he's right, in a general way. Too much seeking after "happiness" is just self-seeking and self-defeating; yes, there's something deeper out there. But I felt reluctant to accept much of his pontificating on how life was meant to be lived, considering the mouth it was coming from. I think you can get a just as good a read on happiness-as-human-experience in Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine, and without the profanity.

Right as I was finishing Happiness™, I thrift-shopped a copy of John Piper’s book Desiring God (Multnomah Publishers, 2003 edition; the link is to the e-text) . The motto of Piper's ministry: "We take happiness seriously."

Piper, who calls himself a "Christian hedonist" says this:

"I had never in my whole life heard any Christian, let alone a Christian of [C. S.] Lewis's stature, say that all of us not only seek (as Pascal said) but also ought to seek our own happiness. Our mistake lies not in the intensity of our desire for happiness, but in the weakness of it." (Desiring God)

As I posted yesterday, I've also been profoundly touched over the past month by the Mitford novels. Perhaps they're too good to be true. On the other hand, they illustrate two truths about happiness that seem to escape Will Ferguson's theories. One is perhaps a cliché, but it's true anyway: that you create your own happiness around you; if you want a friend, you have to be one. Mitford's mayor wins elections based on slogan "Mitford takes care of its own," and the books constantly repeat this theme of human love and concern. The best that Ferguson's Edwin comes up with is deciding to kill the author of the self-help book (to save the world from Happiness); his concern for others is limited to another editor (his sometime girlfriend) and, eventually, to that same author (probably the most interesting character in the book, and we don't get to meet him until the end). In other words, he doesn't do a whole lot to make his world a better place.

The other is, as I suggested before and as John Piper preaches, that happiness--or joy--or whatever you want to call it--may not be complete until we find it in a relationship with the One who created us. It's all very well for Edwin to celebrate our human weaknesses along with our good; but that doesn't seem to take into account the genuine pain caused by sin and suffering in the world, and our need for an answer that lies outside of humanity altogether. Belief in God doesn't have to be as mindless as Belief in Happiness.

And when I get done with Piper's book, I think I'll pass it on to my friend at church.