Book Review: A Very Merry Matchup

Becca Kinzer's A Very Merry Matchup is a delightful and wholesome Christmas novella. What a task to come up with a new idea for a seasonal story. Kinzer's novella boasts a delicious blend of romance and humor. Indeed, it's like a Shakespearean comedy of errors. Misunderstandings lead to colorful confusion. Yet, when those misconceptions resolve, the reader gains a touching resolution.

Ivy West has a plan. She knows what kind of life she wants (nothing like what she grew up with), and she's working hard to get there. Beau Wall may be handsome, but his unstable career in baseball would never mesh with Ivy's perfect plan. Thinking someone should snatch him up, she plays matchmaker and pushes him to pursue her friend, Lucy. Alas, she's not the only one intent on making matches.

Through a hilarious myriad of mix-ups, Ivy lands at Beau's house for the holidays, convinced she's there to help celebrate Lucy's engagement. Beau and Ivy each arrive with a rambunctious dog in tow. They make an adorable couple, if only Beau (and his family) could convince Ivy to give him a chance. Thankfully, Beau can see through to her heart. He recognizes her wounds and her deepest longings. Her plan may not allow it, but everyone knows plans often go awry (and with Becca Kinzer, going awry means loads of laughs).

What a perfect pairing of humor and humanity. There is a depth of pain leading to Ivy's walls. Yet, the power of love softens and redeems it. I recognized Ivy's desire to avoid the mistakes of her parents. My teen struggles felt similar. I rooted for Beau and his loving family. Who doesn't want a family like that? Plus, having once had a rambunctious Goldendoodle, I loved the humorous comic relief the dogs provided. This is a holiday tale I recommend and will happily read again.

Reminders of Sweetness Amid the Sour

My beloved prodigal is approaching a special birthday - 2 decades of life. For him, this is an accomplishment as he has done much to challenge this landmark. Indeed, I wonder if he is a cat, with the requisite nine lives. He has "slipped the noose" repeatedly and this wears on my emotional reserves. My husband cannot bear to look at sweet photos from the past in the midst of our current crisis. However, I needed the reminder of his sweetness and a dozen or so years that were free from the scourge of drug use. God gifted Trevor into our lives almost 20 years ago, and despite much sorrow, grief, and discouragement, I will fix my eyes on the many blessings his life has provided us.

I'm not a photographer. I don't often capture images. Thus, I scoured my blog, grateful for this catalog of memories that I sometimes fail to bring forth. Trevor has always been bright, creative, funny, and thoughtful. I found numerous examples of personalized cards he made for me (often with poetry). Ever artistic (here's art from age 10), he created images paired with sentiments he knew would touch my heart. While the cards are lost in the pack-rat detritus of my life, I can look back on my blog and enjoy the sentiments, the art, and the boy behind these kind gestures.

In my earliest photos of Trevor (from 2008), he was almost constantly in super hero attire. Indeed, on one visit to the library, they pulled me aside and gave me a large stuffed Spiderman. They were purging it from the library possessions and wanted to pass it along to the young boy who always came in dressed as Spiderman.

In 2009, we added our first dog, Harley, to the mix and Trev was very fond of him:

Mid-2009, he cut his own hair (worried it might be too long like his 13-year-old brother's hair):

In November of 2009, I captured this sweet and hilarious video of Trevor reciting The Lord's Prayer. He had learned this in his Christian preschool class. During the recitation, he accidentally burped, then cracked up when I exclaimed that I didn't remember that as part of the prayer.

In 2010, Trev got ahold of a blow torch and singed his bangs off (like I said, his guardian angel works overtime!) - go here to read the whole story and my funny friend Laura's quip in reaction to the tale):

That same year, Trev set up shop selling us his artwork and, in the fall, began kindergarten:

Looking at the photo above, reminds me of another guardian angel moment (on this day his jeans caught in the bike chain and, unable to stop, he zoomed across our street - where cars often speed past at 40-50 mph - safely and miraculously landing on the grass across the street).

In 2011, he went for a brief visit with grandma and found his granddad's war helmet, rode the zipline at CBLI, and became interested in football:

In 2013, we continued to enjoy the zipline at camp:

In 2015, Trevor and I took a special spring break trip to visit with my parents in Florida. He caught a lizard and set him free (despite accidentally severing his tail):

In 2017, he proudly displayed a fish catch at CBLI:

This was also the age of his bottle-flipping stage and in spring of 2018, he created this hilarious basketball spoof video:

The last two photos are from the cusp of our problems with Trevor, when he broke his leg during the first football game of his 8th grade season:

(This is another photo that stirs intense gratitude. We praise God that He spared Trevor's life and the lives of others near the accident that totaled the truck recently.)

It is good to reminisce over the sweeter days amid ones that leave a sour taste in our mouths. We are grateful for the prayers of so many, lifting Trevor before the Lord. I anxiously await his return to the sweet person he was prior to this departure into drug use and rebellion. May God help us cling to Him when timing doesn't speed along Trevor's recovery and return. May the guardian angels, who have prevented numerous perils in the past, continue to protect him.

We love you, Trevor! Don't ever forget it! We long to see you healed of this addiction, but you are a gift, even amid the pain!

Book Review: The Keeper of Stories

For a debut novel, I am impressed. The Keeper of Stories is like Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, in that a lowly cleaner learns to assert herself and claim her own story. Because the personality-packed dog expresses foul-mouthed thoughts, it reminded me of The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness (whose memorable opening line sucked me in: "The first thing you find out when yer dog learns to talk is that dogs got nothing much to say.") It is a frame story, much like The Arabian Nights (mentioned in the book). But, most of all, it is, as the back cover proclaims, a book "full of humor and depth - that has taken readers around the world by surprise."

In Janice's role as a housekeeper, she collects people's stories. Whether it is a snippet of story overheard on her bus ride or the tales of her clients, she relishes adding another story to her repertoire. Mostly, her clients are more interested in their own stories. But when Janice begins cleaning for Mrs. B, a flamboyant 92-year-old, she knows her story will be sucked from her eventually. Mrs. B. once worked as a spy. She's keen to know the secrets lurking beneath the surface of this mild-mannered cleaner.

I was thoroughly unprepared for the emotional investment, the clever interconnectedness, and the unexpected humor. By the end of the book, I marveled at the author's skill for bringing tears one moment, followed by snorts of laughter in the next. Despite the content in some stories (harlots, suicide, murder) and despite the foul mouth Janice hears from the beloved dog she walks, it left me enthralled. The book touches on many important truths about human weakness, tenuous familial bonds, and second chances. Primarily, I loved the focus on how each of our stories holds importance in the lives of others and teaches us something about the world. Not only did I enjoy piecing together, bit by bit, Janice's story, but I loved reading the author's bio. How fascinating! Sally Page dabbles in history, flowers, photography, pens, and stories. I'm so glad she wrote this debut novel. I will keep my eye out for more and may look up her daughter, the author Libby Page.   

Joining a New Book Club

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

I'm the perfect candidate for a book club. I love any opportunity to discuss the books I consume. However, sometimes book clubs can be tricky. For years, I belonged to a book club that met an hour away from me in a northern suburb of Indianapolis. The hour long drive seemed worth it to me. I appreciated the books they selected. We conversed easily. At the beginning, I felt very welcome and involved. Over time, things shifted. The book selections failed to interest me. I wondered if I was truly a welcome contributor. Somehow, they left me off the reminder email list a time or two. Intentional? The drive became difficult as we were experiencing major transportation challenges. Thus, I abandoned that group.

For a while, I attempted book clubs at my local library. This was a bust, too. Most of the times, the books selected were not ones I felt worth the time investment. 

In January, I joined a new group established on Facebook. Their first selection was The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. I had listened to it in audio form when my oldest was much younger (perhaps when it first came out around 2003 - he would have been 7). My resounding memory is that the author nailed the voice (the autistic narrator is fascinating) and that the language was very foul (I could not listen when Bryce was in the car with me). Then, I read the book again with the afore-mentioned book group. I cannot remember their take on the book.

I didn't mind reading it again, but put it off until the last minute. Indeed, I skim-read the book in the hours before the book club meeting. There are many commendable attributes to this book club, so I'm hopeful. The others are true book enthusiasts, bursting with book recommendations for books that sound appealing (mostly historical fiction, but I'm okay with that). The others seem welcoming and vocal. Since the majority own dogs, we spent a good deal of time discussing the horror of the first moments of the book (off-putting to several), the curious and cruel incident. We discussed characteristics of individuals on the spectrum. We discussed whether character actions were realistic or believable. Mostly, we kept going back to book recommendations. I'm always up for those. 

Plus, I felt genuine interest in the February and March selections: Forty Autumns and The Women.  I attended the February meeting this past weekend. We had a lively and empathetic discussion. I felt comfortable enough to share more personally than I intended. The others were supportive and encouraging. I felt seen. I'm pleased that we're forming connections. Hopefully, the timing will work out so I can attend again in March. Perhaps this will provide an opportunity to bless others.

2022 Ends, 2023 Begins

The best part of our 2022 holiday season was a visit from our oldest son, Bryce. 

(I never think to take photos - this is the only photo we got during his visit.)

Since he lives near Dallas, Texas, we don't see him as often as we'd like. He intended to fly in late on Thursday, December 22nd. As news of the impending Midwest storm intensified, we worried about his travel and our travel to pick him up from the airport (30 minute highway drive away). He thanked me for alerting him to this wrinkle early on, before the masses were scrambling to change their flights. He secured a place on a Wednesday flight and worked from our home on Thursday.

Then our concern shifted to Trevor. He had to work from 4-10:30 on Thursday and they were predicting 3-5 inches of snow, drifting from gusting winds, and sub-freezing temperatures. He travels a long stretch of country roads on his way home from work and I was terrified that he would get stranded between drifts and freeze to death (yes, my mind always goes to the worst-case scenario). I prayed fervently that they would close early. Praise God, they closed at 5. He helped shut everything down and was safely home by 7 p.m.

The storm brought wicked cold temperatures. Bryce (accustomed to Texas weather) was wearing multiple layers and kept the guest room blazing hot - ha! Poor Toby! At first, he refused to go out to do his business. Then, we remembered last year's great gift of the matching "cool dog" and "cool dog dad" socks. Once we put those on him, he went out willingly. Isn't he adorable?

Friday morning, I woke to find frozen kitchen sink pipes. John had left the cabinet doors open and the sink dripping, but had left it dripping on the cold side, not thinking about the fact that we have separate cold and hot pipes leading to the faucet. Using a blow dryer for many minutes restored our hot water. Unfortunately, I ran the dishwasher without thinking that pipe/hose might have frozen too. The machine ran with no water. Praise God, my mistake didn't damage it. Once temperatures warmed up, it functioned perfectly again.

This was, perhaps, the most expensive December we have faced. Of course, the older your children get, the more expensive the gifts seem to be. But we had additional expenses compounding this. Sean's birthday is two days after Christmas and he requested a newer X-box. Plus, Trevor graduated early from high school and we purchased him a new laptop as his graduation gift. We had promised him a car stereo system for his birthday but didn't get around to purchasing this until December. Add in several cars in the shop for repairs (does this ever end?) and we felt like we were financially hemorrhaging. Still, we count our blessings.

Notable gifts or deals: Trevor bought me a lovely Bible cover, Bryce got me a much-needed phone mount for my car (plus a requested book), and John also gifted requested books, chocolates, and an 8-quart crock pot (not sure I'll keep the crock pot - it was so thoughtful to get the larger size, but most of the recipes I follow don't have sufficient liquid ingredients to cook effectively in the larger size - will have to think long and hard).

The best deals were for Bryce. I snagged a $30 Purdue cooler in Target's clearance for only $7.50. Although there were bigger purchases (sheets, dress pants, restaurant gift card, Purdue baseball cap), my best deal was on a second hand golf set. After several Facebook Marketplace sellers fell through, I happened upon someone selling a neutral color golf bag (why do so many men choose awful colors like red for their golf bags??) with 9 clubs, some tees, and a small bag of golf balls - all that for $15. Since Bryce only golfs here once or twice a year, it seemed pointless to purchase a brand new golf set.

The worst deal was a five-year planner I purchased on Amazon for John. Isn't the cover lovely?

Alas, the inside held horrible spacing (too small to jot daily notes) and misspellings:

Thankfully, I snagged two other splendid gifts for him - this bird lamp was a big hit:

And he loved the squirrel t-shirt:

Bryce's travel plans were once again up in the air at the end of his visit. It turned out he had a Southwest flight home and Southwest was cancelling thousands of flights. He couldn't afford to wait to see if they cancelled his flight. He felt an urgency to get home, so he left a day early, rented a car, and drove the 13 hours back to Dallas. His week-long visit was a blessing.

Another unexpected blessing during the holidays happened for Trevor. I noticed someone on NextDoor needing help with moving. They offered to pay and, even though we didn't know what the pay scale would be, it was on Friday afternoon when Trevor didn't work. He agreed, and the man contacted Trevor, offering him $25 an hour for six hours of work. When the scheduled Friday arrived, rain prompted them to begin early and Trevor arrived to find they already had all the help they needed. This gracious man paid Trevor the agreed $150. What a gift! Trevor told him that wasn't necessary, but the man insisted. We later sent a small oven glove with cookie mix to thank him for his generosity.

The end of a year always brings thoughts of resolutions and focus words. For 2023, I hope to actually read less (yes, my blog may suffer) and pray more. But I wanted to be intentional about this. After reading Amy Weinland Daughters' book, Dear Dana, I yearned to connect with my Facebook friends. Thus, I have set in motion my 2023 Prayer Project. Like Amy, I placed the names of my Facebook friends in a bag. A week before the year began, I alerted my friends on Facebook, promising to give them a heads up so they can communicate specific prayer requests. I drew the first 8 names and placed their name slips (with number) on 3x5 note cards. 

My plan is to pray for 3 to 5 minutes for each individual three times a day (with my morning devotions, in the afternoon, and just before bed). Even if they don't provide specific requests, I will beg for God's blessing, guidance, and love in their lives. So, my word for 2023 is PRAY. May I stand in the gap for close and distant friends. And if my blog posts taper off, know that I'm not reading because I'm busy interceding.

Book Review: More Than Grit - Highly Recommend

Let's imagine my husband had to identify one complaint about me (ha, only one?). It might be my propensity to seek bargains. I will admit, sometimes the bargain, once chased, ends up being less than a bargain (i.e., a pair of running shoes I purchased for $5 and then ended up donating because they hurt my feet). Sometimes, in pursuing the bargain, I waste time and money. But occasionally, I end up thanking God for the deal. (Some previous gems: our new-in-box treadmill, a solid wood lyre end table, my alto horn, the bench and end table in my book nook, and the book-themed desk and file cabinet.)

However, none of those finds netted the even greater find, a friend. Lately, I've been searching for a small table or cabinet to hold a sewing machine. After my mother-in-law's passing, her machine went to my niece and my niece offered me her old machine. So, there I was perusing Facebook Marketplace, when I saw an adorable Old Curiosity Shop knick-knack. I had just completed Great Expectations and was feeling my old author love spring anew. God turned this little transaction into a marvelous connection. It turned out the seller had just published her first book, like me. Eager to help a fellow author, I purchased her book More Than Grit.

If this is her debut effort, Gretchen Carlson can only have a bright future ahead. Billed as a middle-grade historical novel, with extended appeal to history-keen young adults and adults, More Than Grit tells a multi-layered story of belligerent bullies, fast friendship, and troubled times. It is 1939 in a rural Kansas town. Farmers and townspeople alike are abuzz with news of electricity. But times are tough and they require a $5 deposit in order to extend the resource. Twelve-year-old Sissy Grumme can tell her parents may struggle to secure the sum. She devises a plan that may place herself and others in danger.

I loved the way this story weaves in and out with a narrow and wide lens. On the one hand, you have Sissy's problem with a small-town bully. On the other, you have a much bigger bully, Hitler. Prejudices emerge on local and international scales. Sissy learns and grows through her encounters with a war-scarred recluse and her friendship with a gypsy girl. She struggles to balance duty and desire and learns that scarred, scared people can change. What a testament to the power of story! The reason our individual stories matter is that they play out in bigger arenas with universal appeal. What touches a person also touches a nation, which also touches an international sphere.

Gretchen's author website provides additional resources (discussion questions/activities arranged by chapter). This book would make an outstanding read-aloud, with a journal question or activity assigned for each read-aloud session. Each question/activity gives readers a chance to interact with the history and quotations from historical figures. They also encourage personal connections. Homeschooling families and mother-daughter book clubs will appreciate the many discussions the book prompts. Keep your eyes open for more, because I'm convinced that Gretchen Carlson has a significant gift for historical fiction. 

She also addresses my personal pet-peeve (mentioned here and here), by producing a book that is faith-affirming without hammering the message like an anvil over the heads of readers. She gets it right. Faith shines through on the strength of the story. Everyone can agree. We all face troubled times that will require more than grit. 

Book Review: The Good Pilot Peter Woodhouse

How can a war novel be light-hearted and tender? Throw in a dog with an unusual name, an orphaned land girl with a dim-witted cousin and maternal auntie, and an American pilot with a big heart - that's how. Val Eliot is as protective of her cousin Willy as Willy is protective of the mistreated dogs on his employer's farm. She agrees to help him rescue one pup Willy has named Peter Woodhouse (after an advertisement on his crate), but where to hide the pup? The American soldiers on a nearby base agree to take on the dog as a mascot and good luck charm.

The story meanders, but is full of hope and charm. Even in bad times, there are good people. Reaching out to help another may come at a risk, but some will take those risks. This is such a sweet story of friendship. Plus, I was amused to find Muncie, Indiana playing a role in another Alexander McCall Smith book (also the home of a character in The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection). Perhaps the author met someone from the town.

Book Review: Walter the Farting Dog: Banned from the Beach

Walter may be banned from the beach, but some parents wish this series about Walter banned from the children's shelves. Seriously! There are parents out there concerned about the overuse of the word "fart" in a series of books with special boy appeal. Now, if only they could ban farts, an ever-present problem in our homes. Ha!

My boys, in their younger days, loved the first two Walter the Farting Dog books. I find the series harmless fun. In every book, Walter's farts save the day. In this book, Walter farts "philosophically" and, in a maneuver of biblical proportions, clears a way for his beloved children to make it safely back onto dry land. Since I needed to read a banned book for my library's winter reading program, the final three books in this series fit the bill. By all means, avoid these books if you are sensitive to discussions of natural bodily functions, but leave them on the shelves for boys who might feel more amenable to books because of this hilarious take on a dog plagued by difficulties and judged for his flatulence.

Book Review: Katie Up and Down the Hall

Because of an unpleasant experience with a large, overly playful dog in my early years, I developed a hesitant response to dog ownership. Then, to further it along, we adopted a rambunctious goldendoodle named Harley (never grew to like his name, yet never changed it). Harley was so beyond my ability to train and discipline (not unlike some children I know - wink). But, I must say, having had our shichon Toby for almost 3 years now, I can fully understand how a dog can burrow in and capture your heart.

Katie Up and Down the Hall tells the story of Glenn Plaskin's experience with his cocker spaniel. Living alone, he relished the thought of a dog's companionship. He never expected the way his little puppy would widen his world. A chance encounter with a dog-loving couple, Arthur and Pearl, down the hall leads to a happy second home for Katie. She wanders back and forth between the two apartments. Pearl and Arthur fall in love with Katie and Glenn appreciates their gracious dog-sitting offer. Drawn into the apartment by Katie, Glenn begins to look upon this elderly couple as a surrogate set of grandparents. Not long after, John and his toddler Ryan move into an apartment on the hall, and the circle widens. Through it all, the love of a dog cements these individuals together. They endure illness, career shifts, depression, death, and a tragic terrorist attack.

Plaskin's writing is effortless and captivating. I forgot there was an author because I was so absorbed in the story (those are always the best audio experiences because my treadmill miles fly by). What a beloved dog! What a gift of friendship she opened for them! Almost made me want to live in an apartment, so my cute Toby could cement a family of friends for me. It was intriguing to hear an insider's look at the 9/11 aftermath. I don't know why, but I never thought about the upheaval it must have caused for nearby residents. Dog-lovers will love this delightful tale of canine companionship and connection. But my words won't persuade you nearly as much as this seductive trailer for the book:

Book Review: Echo Mountain - Highly Recommend

Lauren Wolk is a marvelous writer. I loved Wolf Hollow and Beyond the Bright Sea. She deserves the title "Newbery Honor-winning author" and I will read anything she puts out. While unsure if I was up for a 356 page middle grade book, I should have figured Wolk would sweep me in right away.

Ellie is plucky and resilient. While her mother and sister long for the past life in town, before the Depression stripped her parents of their jobs and forced the family to move to the mountain, Ellie basks in the freedom and opportunity to learn fresh things. She has a brand new puppy and an anonymous friend in the woods who leaves her carved trinkets. All would be well for her there, if a tragic accident hadn't left her father in a coma. But even worse, her family blames her for the accident and resents her efforts to waken her father. Ellie feels sure the old hag who lives up the mountain can help. Ellie defies her mother and goes to the hag, but what she finds there only presents even further complications.

This book celebrates human resilience, friendship, and the power of possibility. The setting is part of the struggle. Readers will root for Ellie against every obstacle and cheer when she carves out her own path to healing. The writing sings and provides an interesting setting, a strong protagonist, overwhelming obstacles, and satisfying redemption. This would make an outstanding read-aloud. What a marvelous example of personal integrity and grit! Moreover, if you are looking for books to encourage girls to follow their goals and dreams, this is dynamite. I think it is my favorite of Wolk's books yet!

Christmas Greetings for 2019!

When you have bigs, Christmas morning is laid back. Daylight comes and they're still sleeping.

I couldn't bring myself to write an annual Christmas letter this year. Instead, I simply sent out a small photo of our dog, Toby (captured so well by a photographer at J.C. Penney who claimed it was her first pet photo shoot ever):

I probably wouldn't have even bothered, except that I wanted to remind the few I send and receive cards from, of our address change (no, we didn't move; the city extended the street name down to our country road, requiring the pointless hassle of an address change). The futility of the gesture is monumental. We received 16 Christmas cards this year - a third from extended family. Tempted to feel aphilophrenia (see my Word Catcher review), but will optimistically attribute it to the fact that the Christmas card is going the way of the dodo bird! At least I know I'm not alone in this sadness. A friend posted her card dilemma on Facebook (she sends far more than I do and this year her card was going to cost $3.84 each to send, so she sent it disassembled with the challenge to assemble it - ha!) - she tries to fill one door with cards from family and friends, but this year resorted to adding a Santa decoration to take up space due to the scarcity of cards:

Here are our recent photos of Trevor (freshman) and Sean (7th grade):

The only news I would have added to a Christmas letter (had I sent one) would be that our oldest, Bryce, received his next job assignment and is thrilled to be moving to Houston, Texas (where his girlfriend already lives and works for Exxon). We are grateful for his presence here for Christmas, but will grieve the loss of more frequent visits. Here is a summer shot of Bryce and Elizabeth from their travels together in Europe:

May you and yours enjoy a blessed Christmas and new year!

Merry Christmas 2018!

One of the best things about Christmas is having all my boys together in one place. Last night, they spent most of their Christmas Eve playing Rock Band together (Bryce on drums, Trevor on bass, and Sean on guitar). I love to watch them in this endeavor. If only it had remained an observation activity. Alas, they wanted to break 1,500,000 on a song, so they asked me to be a fourth player and sing into the microphone. What a horrible experience! First off, I didn't even know the song and the words come at you quickly and you just have to sort of guess what pitch you should be on. I hated every minute of it (felt like a detriment, rather than a help to them) and was so glad when they decided to put Trevor on drums and prop up the microphone so Bryce could play bass and sing at the same time. Finally, they reached their goal.

One of my gifts to John this Christmas is a small squirrel photo holder (he loves his birds and squirrels and feeds them daily). I needed a decent photo of the boys together. Here they are, with Toby, in front of the tree (no, those gifts beneath the tree aren't exactly "pared down" the way I intended - oh well):

May you have a blessed Christmas and may 2019 bring peace and joy. Thanks for reading my paltry offerings and opinionated book reviews.

Book Review: Trouble - Highly Recommend

The more I read Gary D. Schmidt's books, the more I fall in love with his writing. I highly recommended The Wednesday Wars, a fine piece of historical fiction, and Okay for Now, an outstanding example of voice mastery. I enjoyed this book, Trouble, every bit as much as those two previous offerings. I listened to the book in audio form and could not wait to begin my daily treadmill time so that I could continue with the story and find out what would happen to these delightful, vulnerable characters.

From the very first sentence when Henry's father tries to convince him that if you build your house far enough away from trouble, it will never find you, we know that trouble is destined to make an appearance in Henry's comfortable, secure life. It first shows up in an accident where a pickup truck, driven by a Cambodian immigrant, plows into his older brother Franklin. As the petals of grief unfold for the family, causing his father to avoid work, his mother to don a brave face, and his sister to retreat in silence to her room, Henry must work through his anger and forge a new path. That new path begins when he rescues a mangy dog from the sea.

With Black Dog at his side, Henry interprets his brother's one word utterance, "Katahdin," as an appeal for Henry to climb the steep mountain alone. Before the accident, Franklin was sure Henry couldn't make the climb. Now Henry is more than eager to prove himself and to flee a house shrouded with confusion and grief. But when Henry encounters the driver of the pickup along the way, he begins to realize that you cannot run from trouble.

I've been pondering how great authors unveil clues to a story a bit at a time so that the reader only slowly comes to understand the full dynamics of the truth. Schmidt does a stellar job of this. He has placed the clues expertly, with perfect pacing, so that the facts reveal not only deep truths about the story, but also deep truths about human experience. I highly recommend this novel and warn you that you just might feel a lump develop in your throat. At the same time, I know you will agree with the author's conclusion in the final chapter, when he says, "The world is trouble and grace. That is all there is."

As I think about this novel, I really wish that my son's teacher had selected this one instead of Monster, because it not only treats racial tensions, but it brings out the resilience of the human spirit and reveals the appearance of grace in the midst of trouble. It provides plenty of discussion-worthy topics and inspires the reader to reach for greatness. It metes out forgiveness alongside responsibility. Moreover, it does all of that without presenting anything that a parent might find controversial or undesirable for their student's consumption. It was, in my eyes anyway, a far superior choice.

Another Boy in the Family

For years, and I mean YEARS, my youngest has been begging for another dog. When he was two we purchased a Goldendoodle named Harley. We didn't change the name since he'd been called that for the first 9 months of his life. His name should have been Handful, because he was that. We had hoped for a Goldendoodle ever since we saw one at my oldest son's soccer game and the owners explained that the dog didn't shed (an important factor, given my husband's allergies to pet dander). Alas, the dog did shed ... and bolt out the door and into the street the minute my young boys opened the door ... and roll in dead animals ... and climb up on the counter to eat chicken bones ... and .... Eventually, we rehomed the dog and hopefully he found an owner who knew how to deal with animals enough to meet the challenges he presented. I, having never owned a dog, was certainly unprepared to be the alpha over Harley.

Thus, the years of nagging and pleading. We argued that we needed to find a dog that fit our needs ... especially potty-trained and non-shedding. The boys argued that our expectations were too high. I have been scouring the Internet, looking for the perfect fit for our family. I finally found a Hoobly ad for some adorable Shichons (second generation Shih-tzu/Bichon Frise mix). Sean was immediately drawn to the photos of the dogs. He begged and begged. We discussed and discussed. I emailed the breeders to ask if any were still available ... there were three out of six left. We went around and around about it and I eventually had to write back to say that my husband wanted to hold out for a dog that was already potty-trained. The breeder wrote back. He wished us luck and pointed out that often getting a dog who is already house-broken, but not very old means the owners are rehoming the dog for some reason they might not be expressing (perhaps the case with Harley). After thinking about his words and more discussion, we decided that we would at least see the dogs.

We came ... we saw ... we fell in love ... we bought. He's like a little fluff-ball. Here is my happy boy with his long-awaited dog:

The boys immediately agreed on a name ... Toby. We are, indeed, struggling with the housetraining (mostly our fault, because we fail to see the signs he gives prior to his accidents ... we'll get the hang of it and hopefully, he'll get the hang of only relieving himself outdoors). Although he didn't meet all the requirements, he is actually feeling like a perfect fit. He is very calm and quiet. In many ways, he is a good dog. And he certainly couldn't be more adorable ... could he?

Book Review: Naptime with Theo & Beau

Although this is billed as a pre-reader children's book, the photography in it is so stunning, even adults will ooh and aah over it. Author, Jessica Shyba, began taking photos of her young son and their puppy and posting them to her popular blog, Momma's Gone City. The photos quickly went viral and soon she had quite a large following of people eagerly awaiting another photo of Theo and Beau asleep together. The story is simple and the photos are, as The Daily Mail bills them, "unbearably adorable." For any parent with dog-lovers in the home, this is a must-read/must-view book. Warning: it will melt your heart.

Going to the Dogs

A month ago, John and I seized a rare opportunity to get away for some down time, just the two of us. While we didn't go far, we enjoyed a full afternoon of shopping (purchasing a new couch and love seat set, our primary goal), dinner out at a Chicago-style pizza place (sadly not Giordano's, although I'm thrilled that Indianapolis has finally secured one of those), and a night alone (sans kids, hallelujah). We had a wonderful time.

When we visited a furniture re-sale shop, we failed to find a couch, but stumbled upon a whimsical pair of dogs. They are candle holders and the light disperses out of the small holes in their bodies:

Discovering that they were anatomically correct, we knew our boys would have a grand laugh.

Sadly, not all the boys were caught up in the amusement we expected. Of course, we probably shouldn't have declared, "We bought you guys two dogs!" Sean was devastated and angry. His hopes had been raised and then dashed to bits by two metal pretenders.

John has now declared that we will, indeed, be getting a dog and will begin the search over spring break. This is just a few weeks away. I would happily settle for the minimal maintenance of the two pretenders (simply replacing the tea lights - ha), but the rest of the family is determined to add to our numbers with a real dog. While I firmly believe that every boy should grow up with a dog, it is the reality of the dog that I dread.

Even though we are not interested in a big dog, like Harley, our last failed venture into pet territory, I can't say I'm thrilled about a little dog either. But, it feels inevitable. Harley was an out-of-control, boundlessly energetic, beast of a dog.

Please Lord, if we have to go this route, pair us with a better match ... something manageable, cuddly, affectionate, obedient, non-shedding, and potty-trained. All of my siblings have dogs and their dogs are perfect matches (my older brother's dog, Prestwick, has even been trained to go in a litter box, so they can leave it home alone while they are at work). The only questionable match is my sister's chihuahua, whom she affectionately sometimes calls "Satan" (the dog snarls and bares teeth for nearly everyone). If anyone has suggestions for breeds which fit my requirements, I'd happily take them. Sean has his heart set on a pug (too expensive and not terribly cuddly), John wants a poodle or a cockapoo, and Trevor wants a bichon frise (require constant companionship - I'm not taking the dog everywhere in a dog purse, no sir) or a shih-tzu. I just want someone else to be responsible for the dog. Sadly, I know it will fall to me and I'll be no match for the task.