The Senator's Wife by Sue Miller

I liked this book. And then I hated this book. And then I liked this book.

Meri & Nathan move in next door to Delia & Tom. Tom is never around and by being exceedingly nosy, Meri discovers why. Meri is unhappy in her marriage for no good reason and wishes she was more like Delia. She betrays Delia in the most invasive way not once but twice despite Delia's attempts to be her friend.

Meri is a reprehensible character right up until the end of the book. I hated her whingeing, whining ways but she redeems herself somewhat in the last chapter. Delia is an understandable but sad picture of what it meant to be the wife of a successful senator with a roving eye in the 1960s. Tom is a pathetic, weak, vile man. You never really get to know Nathan. He skirts around the fringes of the novel without having an impact on any of the story.

The beginning reads like a mystery but this isn't really a mystery. Tom is having affairs. everyone knows he is. The middle irritated me so much I almost stopped reading. Why do women have to be portrayed as so weak. The ending was a complete surprise and I loved it because of the way it socks you in the gut. Meri did what?

This is not a pleasant story. I don't like what it says about woman and their relationships with each other. I don't like what is says about motherhood and our relationships with our children. But just because I don't like it doesn't mean it isn't true.

I recommend reading this book only if you have a strong stomach and aren't particularly emotionally fragile. If you are looking for a happy, uplifting read, look elsewhere.

Stonehenge

Besides jetting (or training) off to Paris we also did some sightseeing a bit closer to home.

Paris 2009

I remember the very first time I went to Paris. I walked out of Gare du Nord and asked my travelling companion to pinch me. I asked her to do it again as we approached the Eiffel Tower. My love affair with Paris has never died. Although with a new family of 2 toddlers it isn't really the first choice of holiday destinations, my obsession with Paris had cooled.

My mother had never been to Paris and it was definitely on her bucket list of things to do in her lifetime. It seemed a logical conclusion then that after a few days at Disneyland we would move on over to the City of Lights.

And so we made our way to Paris via the RER (train). As we began the walk to our hotel I realised that one of the streets we were walking down was clearly a red light district as I hurried the children past the doors of establishments with women in their lingerie lounging about. Luckily the children didn't even notice. Well, not that first night anyway. Seb did ask a few nights later why those women always had their pajamas on and I left Marc to answer that one.

We checked in and once mom got over the shock of there not being an elevator in the hotel we set off for the short walk up to Sacre Coeur for the breath taking view. We had dinner at a lovely (if a little touristy) restaurant and sighed at Paris by night.

We fit in the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and the Arc de Triomphe the next day. We caught some staggering performances by street musicians.

We found an excellent guide to 12 Renaissance masters to help the children (and us) navigate the Louvre. The children loved looking for dogs and parrots and various assorted oddities in the paintings.

We enjoyed the sweet delights of Angelina's on the rue de Rivoli and watched a street protest of teachers. what is Paris without a protest march?

We savoured the culinary delights at the Grizzli Cafe as they tolerated our atrocious attempts at mastering the French language.

The children ran around the Pompidou Centre whilst we sat at an outdoor cafe drinking beers and cafe au lait (not together).

We only got grandma trapped in a turnstile once (which left a hideous bruise) and knocked her glasses off her face once (another wee bruise). Marc and I got off a metro without grandma and the children only once so we must try harder to lose them next time.

On the way home we met a mad French woman (who face painted Abigail) and a lovely Italian couple whilst we enjoyed some seriously smelly French cheese and baguette.

A trip full of a lifetime of memories!

The Girl With a Dragon Tatoo by Steig Larsson

I'm not much into the conspiracy theories. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe Marilyn had few too many drinks and pills and just wasn't all that happy. But I am not convinced that Steig Larsson is really dead.

Larsson is the author of The Girl With a Dragon Tattoo. This book is the first in a trilogy which Larsson delivered to his publisher and then promptly died "under suspicious circumstances". I knew this before I started reading the book and didn't really give it a second thought.

And then I read the book and now I am convinced it is all a conspiracy. Because the book makes you think everything is a conspiracy.

A journalist has been convicted of libel and forced to resign his position as editor of his own magazine. The patriarch of a wealthy family brings him in to find a family member who mysteriously disappeared 40 years ago. A young, troubled beautiful goth is going to help solve the mystery.

To say anymore would spoil the wonderful suspense.

Set in Sweden, the novel is chocker full of Scandanavian details. Mikael Blomqvist is the hero and an immensely likable character but he's not perfect. Lisbeth Salander is quite simply one of my favourite fictional characters I've ever discovered.

Whilst I saw some twists coming, the ending will shock and awe you. The writing pulls you along at a Grisham pace and the translation is very well done. Don't concern yourself too much with the Swedish place names; it doesn't really matter and has no material outcome to the story. Also, don't be frightened off by the size of the book. You read it so quickly you forget how long it is.

I had to keep track of all the characters being introduced on a separate sheet of paper particularly in the first several chapters. It is a big family and there is a lot going on.

So I am hoping that Larsson couldn't possibly be dead. He delivered these 3 perfectly formed novels (his first) and then disappeared off the face of the earth. Don't tell me I've only got 3 books of his to read. I don't believe it. Not for 1 second.

The second book has been published but only in hardback. Bring on the paperback!

Book Group Verdict: This was the first of one of two choices by my Waterstone's book group which just started last month. This is a serious(ish) book group. We talked about the books and everyone reads at least one of the books. The people who read this selection agreed that the first 100 pages or so jump around a bit and is a bit difficult to follow. Most agreed it was a fabulous start to the trilogy. Only one person didn't enjoy it but I couldn't quite understand her reasons.

Disneyland 2009

I have finally found some time (or stopped running about at 100 mph) long enough to get some photos from our trip to Disneyland loaded for all to enjoy. We had a great time!

Abigail was so excited so just bounced up and down all day and night. Sebastian was really into riding the rides. Except for Big Thunder Mountain which we accidentally took both children on (in the last 2 cars) with not a single adult realising until it was too late just what a big scary rollercoaster it is. I think I might have put them off riding roller coasters for the rest of their lives.

My favourite part of the day was the parade. The first day we didn't quite know what to expect and didn't have very good seats. But the second day we knew what we were doing and had fabulous seats.

Abigail's favourite was Small World. She must have went round 10 times. She would get to the end and immediately want to go again. That song played over and over in my head for days.

Sebastian's favourite was a tie between Star Tours and Buzz Lightyear Laser. Star tours was an amazing outer space flight simulation. I just pretended I was Princess Leia and kept looking out for Hans Solo. Marc and Sebastian were really good at the laser game but my other, abigail and I were hopeless. The boys were scoring in the 5 digits whilst we were just happy to score above 2000.

Marc's favourite was the Big Thunder Mountain despite the fact that Abigail was frightened to death and Sebastian was white as a ghost.

Mom says she was just happy to be anywhere with us.

The weather was divine. Sunshine and blue skies graced us every day. Who would have thought I would need to bring sun block and that we didn't need our winter coats?

Generosity

An amazing gift in a much needed time.

Our Insignificance

Hubble Photographs

Journey to France

I'm not even sure where to start.....so I'll start at the very beginning.

Once upon a time.....no wait that will take too much time. OK, I will stick to the highlights and some low lights.

Day 1

We set off in a taxi from home to Heathrow Terminal 5 with a plan to catch the underground there to St Panscras station in London where we were due to hop on the EuroStar bound for Paris. We managed to pack gear for 3 adults and 2 children in 2 large suitcases, very large. Then we had the assorted camera bag, handbags, briefcases (with laptops and required reading, Abigail's Dora the Explorer pull along and Sebastian's elephant backpack with Nintendo DS lite bits and bobs. Not as light as I would have hoped but the best we could manage for a 6 day trip.

We reached Gare du Nord and bought what we thought were the appropriate tickets to Marnee de Vallee (the end of the line and location of the famed Disneyland). After an hour tube journey out to the back of beyond Paris we had just the final leg to go. We got to the gates, put in our tickets and it wouldn't let us out. We had purchased the wrong tickets. It was late on Sunday night and the station was abandoned. Marc pushed the red button fro assistance and the gate opened and he and the children went through. My mother made a mad dash for it and only made it halfway. The gates closed and trapped her. I began frantically pushing the red assistance button and the french went right out of my head as I was trying to explain that my mother was trapped, my husband and children were on the other side of the gate and we didn't have the right ticket.

As if by magic the gates opened again, releasing my mother and allowing me to pass through. Phew!

We stood on the street looking round the ghost town that was the location of our hotel. We were staying at the Adagio Apartments off the Disneyland Park and it would appear that no one cared. After several increasingly frantic moments my mother hailed us a small taxi. We crammed in the luggage and ourselves and after just 5 minutes we were relieved of an extortionate fee for the taxi but hey, we were at our humble abode for the next 3 days.

We grabbed a bit to eat in the shopping precinct next door and settled in for the excitement of Disneyland Paris tomorrow!

Dancing in the Station

At the train station in Liverpool, T-Mobile (a UK mobile phone company) did this great commercial unbeknownst to the daily commuters. They practiced for 8 weeks late at night at the station. On January 15th, 2009, with hidden cameras and 400 dancers at 11:00 a.m. their plan was put into action.



Wish I had been there!

Daffodowndilly

She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,

She wore her greenest gown;

She turned to the south wind

And curtsied up and down.

She turned to the sunlight

And shook her yellow head,

And whispered to her neighbour:

"Winter is dead."

- A.A. Milne

When I Grow Up

After it was graded and the child brought it home, she returned to school the next day with the following note:

Dear Ms. Davis,

I want to be very clear on my child's illustration. It is NOT of me on a dance pole on a stage in a strip joint. I work at Home Depot and had commented to my daughter how much money we made in the recent snowstorm. This photo is of me selling a shovel.

Mrs. Warrington

Channeling Free Speech

I am a fan a free speech. It is a basic tenet of freedom and many people today are living in countries where free speech is a right denied.

But should there be limits?

Yesterday a few protesters appeared at a homecoming parade given to honour the British soldiers who have fought in Afghanistan. The protest was limited to just a few and I hope the cheers of the hundreds drowned out the jeers of the few.

Soldiers are following orders and display tremendous courage under the most difficult of circumstances. They are far from home, away from their families and friends. Their lives have been under threat every single minute of every single day they were away.

There are appropriate means in which to protest a war. There are places to go to demonstrate your dissatisfaction with the current policy. There are politicians to write to. There is a better way to exercise your freedom of speech.

This is not it.

Today, a similar march took place without incident. Thank goodness. I would hate for these men and women to think for one second that we don't appreciate every thing they do to ensure more people can enjoy the freedom of speech.

Mother of a Chorister

Before he went to bed, Sebastian insisted I promise to post to my blog the announcement that he has been offered a place as a Probationary Chorister beginning in September 2009 and let everyone know that I am now the mother of a chorister.

He is rightfully quite excited about his achievement and I couldn't be more proud. He displayed more composure than his mother did during the daunting experience and he can hardly wait to get started. I, on the other hand, will be savouring every moment we have together between now and then. I suppose that's what parenting is all about.

Audition

At the last minute Sebastian decided to go ahead and play a violin piece for his chorister audition. Nothing like sending mummy right over the edge.

The evenings last week were consumed with practise. He played Boating Lake on the piano until I just simply couldn't listen to it anymore. It is a beautiful tune but I'm not sure I ever want to hear it again. He sang his 2 songs until he had all the words memorised and could find his tune and key all on his own. I do love I Vow to Thee, My Country but I really hope I don't have to listen to Onward Christian Soldiers again for a very long time. And then just to torture me (although he said it was to give him an edge) he decided to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on his violin.

He's only just started playing the violin in September. And he couldn't really make a recognisable tune with it until the last few months. For a substantial period of time we had lots of painful screeching.

As Seb practised his violin piece before the audition, Marc and I stood in the kitchen holding our breath and wincing each time it didn't quite go as he planned. But he was determined. And like his mummy, you don't get in his way once he's made up his mind.

He looked so smart as we walked out the door. His hair was even combed. He carried his music, hymn books, and violin. We sat on a bench outside the room they were auditioning. Seb read a Beast Quest book and I knitted fast and furiously. They called him name and came for him. He jumped up and started to walk in completely forgetting his stuff.

The door closed behind him. My knitting pace increased but my hands were shaking. He played his violin first. It wasn't perfect but he didn't embarrass himself and I breathed a very small sigh of relief. I could hear him doing some aural tests and I was pleased with his confidence. He sang his two hymns but the piano was so loud I could barely hear him through the doors. At least he assures me he didn't forget any of his words and he sounded like he was in tune.

I clutched my knitting to my chest and didn't breath until I had to. There was chuckling laughter from the room. "That's my boy", I thought; cut the tension with a bit of humour. At last Boating Lake echoed down the hall and the last note brought tears to my eyes.

He had done it. It was done. He had done everything he could. He had practised. He was confident. He had tried his very best.

He left the room with a great big smile and wrapped his arms around me. I was so glad that it was over and I was so proud that he had tried.

I'm not entirely sure when we find out if he has been chosen but am hoping it will be early next week. Nothing to worry about now though. It is in the hands of God.

Rugby vs Bishopsgate

Year 3 played a rugby match on Friday afternoon. Each school put on 4 teams and all teams put on a superb show. I was particularly proud of my son. He ran in the correct direction every time. He kept his head in the game and he very nearly scored a try! I have adjusted my expectaitons and I mut say it was quite an improvement from his football (soccer outing) last fall. Long may it last.

PS He's quite easy to pick out of the photos. He has light coloured ginger hair and he's the shortest, smallest, etc. (Dynamite comes in small packages and don't you forget it!)

Soup Kitchen

Michelle Obama was volunteering at a soup kitchen a few blocks from the White House last week. An article in the newspaper featured a photo of a soup kitchen patron taking a photo of Mrs Obama. He was taking the photo with his mobile phone.

That's right...how does someone getting their food from a soup kitchen afford a mobile phone? With a camera in it?

Am I the only person in the world who thinks there is something wrong with this picture?

Abigail's 5th Birthday

I know my daughter turned 5 on December 24 2008. I know I haven't managed to put the photos up until now. Give me a break. I am not in the running for mother of the year. At least they are here now!

My Little Stars

December was a crazy month and whilst my blog posts were few and far between it wasn't because nothing was going on and I had writer's block. It was only because I was on the go here, there and everywhere every waking moment of every single day and night. Do not mistake that as a complaint. Simply put it was one of the best holiday seasons I can remember!

So, please, do excuse the lateness of this post. I want to catch you up on all those happy memories.

We were honoured to have so many friends and corresponding invites to festive parties. Rest assured the diet went out of window just through the copious quantities of champagne we consumed. And that is definitely not a complaint. January has plenty of time for dieting!

The first treat of the season was Sebastian's Music Recital. The Middle School, Years 3-5 (ages 7-11), performed instrumental and vocal pieces. I have never seen such dedication, raw talent and composure from children so very young. Some of the performances were nearing professional level and I ain't kidding. I have little doubt that there are some future stars in this bunch. Sebastian performed a solo of I Saw Three Ships, which he has been practicising nonstop of several weeks for hours and hours. It was flawless. I was so proud as he took his bow.

Next we were blessed with Abigail's Nativity Story. She was a star, literally and figuratively. Auntie Mary saved the day (one again) with a white tunic (made from a pillowcase) and Marc hand painted silver stars on it. The silver tinsel was courtesy of the class teachers. She sang confidently and loudly in front of 80 (or so) parents. Her line- "But she was still unhappy!" - was delivered with thespian expertise and adequate character pizzazz! At the end of the performance, there was not a dry eye in the house (including her mummy's). She is so adorable I could eat her alive!

We made boxes of home made treats for the children's teachers and Wicked Uncle Scottish Mike came round to help with the decorating of sugar cookies. I do believe that the men did more decorating than the children and they certainly ate more than they decorated. As well as the cookies, the boxes included almond roca, Christmas tree bark, divinty, and apricot/ginger bread. The almond roca was everyone's favourite and I do believe the weight I gained during the holidays was down solely to too much almond roca....although I suspect the cheese also made a significant contribution!

The final school performance was the middle school's spectacular cantata of Scrooge. That's right! Years 3, 4, and 5 sang the enitre story of The Christmas Carol. The parents looked on in awe as these children mastered not only the tune but all those words. Such concentration!

We shared breakfast with Santa which was an incredible privledge on the 20 December. We know how busy he is at that time of year and I'm not entirely sure how he managed to make time for us in his diary but we didn't really care as the children were able to make it very clear to him exactly what their expectations would be for the morning of 25 December.

Fun in the Snow

Back in February we had the biggest snowfall in these here parts in over 18 years. We loved every minute of it!

Who Moved My Blackberry by Martin Lukes

My most recent troll through the library found me going home with this satirical novel. The British do satire better than just about anyone and this book had me laughing at the absurdity of corporate life. And crying at how relevant I found bits of it.

Martin is a self absorbed high level manager working at a generic company in London who can't understand why his family and career are falling apart but is quite certain none of it is his own fault. Everyone else is to blame. He plays the game telling each player in his life exactly what he wants them to hear and manipulating his version of the truth to shed a beneficial light on himself.

This is all good fun and I found myself laughing out loud at the ridiculousness of it all. It took me less than a day to power through it since it is a series of emails and blackberry messages. Highly recommended for those of you who find yourself getting withdrawal symptoms in the form of physical shaking when your blackberry is turned off during a flight or you've left your mobile at home.

WARNING: Lots of British inside jokes may leave readers of other nationalities wondering what in the world he is talking about unless, like me, you've spent a lot of time here and sort of get the inside jokes.

PS I finished this book so quickly that I loaned it to my boss who I thought would find it amusing.....ok, I also have a death wish. The ironic bit is he lost it on an airplane and I've had to pay the library for it. Poetic Justice.