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Some Fourth of July’s are more memorable than others. And as it’s harder and harder for us to even find a fireworks display in these lean years, I appreciate more and more the ones with truly great fireworks shows. But there’s always something more than the great fire in the sky that makes those nights memorable. Always something unexpected that happened. And it was on one such Fourth of July that I set out with my newborn daughter for the very first time after we came home from the hospital, along with my entire family.

We all piled into the car with lawn chairs and diapers and drove down our newly poured driveway, technically permitted as a sidewalk it was so steep. The technological marvel enabled me to make the trip out as we had one hundred steps to our front door and which, pre-driveway and after my first C-Section, landed me in the house for two solid months before I was physically up to the daily challenge of the descent and ascent.

So the freedom of the drive was excitement enough. But it was the venue too that made the evening even that much sweeter. We drove to my school, The Art Center College of Design, in the foothills surrounding The Rose Bowl. There was a small group of teachers and students gathered there in what used to be a sculpture park and is now the General Motors Computer Lab. We set out our chairs and I had one daughter running around the sculptures and the other in my arms. And I’ll never forget Joe, the shop guy, melting at the sight of my baby. He was a task master at school. The one who eyed the craftsmanship of the models we would create of the products we designed in the Industrial Design program, but a big softie in front of babies. I’d never seen him smile like that.

I’d left school to have another baby because that was the most important thing to me. And everyone at school was so supportive. In the twilight I caught up with my friends on how life was in their fifth term and how mine was in the early days of being a mother of two. Then the show began. One after another the rockets flared and the music played and it was pure magic sitting there, watching fireworks shoot from the Rose Bowl and explode at our level in the foothills. My mom was there too which was an extra special treat, since she’d come all the way from Chicago to help with the baby.

And with my baby in my arms and in the rockets red glare, sitting next to my former classmates and around a few of my teachers so many emotions exploded inside of me. Yes, this wasn’t the typical way a woman goes through college, but it was my way. And it felt so right.

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Scooping a few things from Twitter and Facebook for our family archives…

Beanie misreads “tapioca” at the grocery store, cries out in horror: “TILAPIA PUDDING???”

Rose has announced her new favorite snack: vanilla yogurt with red pepper flakes. I feel faint.

Beanie on Roald Dahl: “In a way, he’s kind of mean. He wrote books that are TOO GOOD, so now that I’ve read them all, I’m sad.”

Bowie on iTunes; Scott giving dramatic recitation, from memory, of HAND, HAND, FINGERS, THUMB in Patrick Stewart voice. #morningatmyhouse

A #booksthatchangedmyworld I forgot: Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Mrs. B in 5th grade read it aloud, hooked me on readalouds. (& that book!)

Also, possibly my first encounter with ‘unlikely heroes.’ Those awful Herdmans surprised everyone.

The 9yo asks, “How DO you fall unconscious, anyway?”

Scott is singing “Macho Man” to the baby, who is dancing like the Caddyshack gopher. I’m supposed to tear myself away from that and work??

Really, Amazon? There can’t possibly be anything in my buying history that suggests I would appreciate an email about a sale on Baconnaise.

“What happened to Alf’s girlfriend on Lark Rise” has surpassed “toddler nose blowing” as a top search topic bringing people to my blog.

Remark #905709 I never anticipated needing to make: “Please

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Cut in half.

Rustle up some silly kids.

Spread out on the kitchen table.

Set up a chart.
Number your pages.

Create a Choose Your Own Adventure Story.

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Last time I had a book in hand on the train to ALA, it was Grace Lin's Where The Mountain Meets the Moon.  This time I took along One Crazy Summer by Rita Williams-Garcia, and was pleased as punch when I closed the book upon arriving at Union Station.

Delphine is trying to keep her younger sisters Vonetta and Fern calm as they jet through turbulence on the way to go meet their mother Cecile in California.  Delphine has an inkling of the turbulence she and her sisters may be in for once they get to Oakland.  She has vague memories of being with Cecile in their kitchen in Brooklyn while she wrote on the walls and muttered to herself.  She also knows that Cecile left soon after Fern was born.  After that, Big Ma moved from down South to Brooklyn and took up right where their mom left off.

Now the girls are about to spend their summer with Cecile, just because Daddy says it's time.  Cecile didn't send for them, or ask about them, but they are coming anyway.  When they finally land, the stewardess hands them off to Cecile -- a strange woman in a pair of man's pants, gigantic sunglasses and a scarf.  Not one for affection, she tells them to follow her and strides off.  After a commute that involves a particular taxi and a bus ride, the girls enter into Cecile's house.  It's more than the girls thought it would be based on all of the talking that Big Ma had been doing.

But it's not quite homey.  The girls are banished from the kitchen, and are told to head to the back bedroom that they would all be sharing.  There's no food in the house, no television, and it becomes obvious quite quickly, that the girls won't be depending on Cecile for any entertainment this summer!

The morning after they arrive, Cecile directs Delphine and her sisters to the People's Center to get some breakfast.  She tells them that it will be easy to find.  After all it's "black folks in black clothes rapping revolution and a line of hungry black kids." (p. 57)

This sets the stage for the slow reveal.  The story is one of family, of politics, of race and friendship.  Williams-Garcia has seemingly effortlessly woven in the feel of the time period (1968), and allowed a window into Oakland and the reality of the Black Panther movement; whether it be senseless arrests or educating children.  There are enough jumping off points to bring on a study of the time period, but the story never veers into message territory.  Delphine is the epitome of the 11 year old.  She's a responsible first born who is trying to figure her mother out, while finding her own self at the same time.

I was amazed upon finding the reality of Cecile's existence.  All of the characters in this book are multifaceted, and remind the reader to look a little deeper.

A must read.

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Alvin Ho: Allergic to Birthday Parties, Science Projects, and Other Man-Made Catastrophes. Lenore Look. 2010. September 2010. Random House. 192 pages.

My name is Alvin Ho. I was born scared, and I am still scared. I never thought I'd live to see myself in another book, on account I could've very well died camping in that last one.

Last year I discovered a wonderful, wonderful character named Alvin Ho. The first book: Alvin Ho: Allergic to Girls, School, and Other Scary Things. The second book: Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters. I love so many things about Alvin. His shyness. His awkwardness. His charm. There is something vulnerable and adorable about Alvin that I adore. I love how he relates to his brother, Calvin, and his sister, Anibelly. I love how he relates to his parents. And then there is his best friend, Flea, even if she does happen to be a girl.

What does the third adventure bring? Two birthday parties. On the same day. One for his best friend, Flea. The other for one of the boys in his class. Conflict. You know there has to be conflict, right with two conflicting birthday parties scheduled the same day. Flea sent him an invitation. He said he'd go. He even (with his mom's help) picked out a birthday present for her. But. The day before the party, he gets invited to the other birthday party. And it sounds like fun. The guys will all be dressing up. (Alvin really, really wants to dress up as an Indian chief. I wish he wasn't so interested in dressing up and "playing" Indian.)

Of course, that is just a part of the conflict. Not taking into account the field trip with all the dead authors walking around. And Calvin's science project. And Alvin having a big talk with his dad on how to talk to a girl. That is found in chapter ten.

How to Talk To A Girl:

1. Listen with both ears.
2. Look her in the eye.
3. Nod or smile to show that you are doing no. 1.
4. Use your indoor voice.
5. Don't scream.
6. Don't carry a concealed weapon.
7. Don't carry a weapon period.
8. Don't wear a mask.
9. Don't burp.
10. Don't fart.
11. Don't do anything you think might impress her. (See 5 to 10)
12. Just be yourself.
13. Show no fear.

While I didn't love this one as much as the first two, I still enjoyed it. There were many scenes that were just hilarious. The humor really worked.

© Becky Laney of Young Readers

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Daddy's Little Scout. Janet Bingham. Illustrated by Rosalind Beardshaw. 2010. Scholastic. 32 pages.

Little Fox was making music. "La, la, la!" he sang. "Shhh! said Daddy Fox. "Listen!" Little Fox stopped singing. "Tweet-tweet-tweet," sang the tree, sweetly.

Daddy's Little Scout is a companion to Mommy's Little Star. In this adventure, Little Fox and Daddy Fox are exploring nature. Daddy is teaching Little Fox about the world around him. Together they are meeting different animals. Daddy Fox teaching him, showing him, where different animals live, where they make their homes. It's a book celebrating spring too.

I didn't love this one. If I hadn't read Mommy's Little Star, then I might have liked this one better. But after knowing that there is a Mommy Fox. It's sad (at least sad to me) that she doesn't make an appearance in this one. One small appearance would have made a difference to me. But the book closes with Daddy Fox and Little Fox making a new home together, all cozy and affectionate.

© Becky Laney of Young Readers

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The cold is passing; has mostly passed. Thanks. I’m cleaning closets and the refrigerator. The Children’s Book still has me in its grip. Last night I didn’t even start thinking about dinner until about ten minutes past dinnertime. I threw together a slapdash meal of the last foodlike substances I could find in the house: some broccoli, some ramen noodles (lightly seasoned, no broth, the world’s cheapest side dish), and thin slices of deli ham fried on the pancake griddle. We had a big laugh, because it turned out to be the tastiest meal we’ve had all week. But then, you can’t go wrong with ramen noodles.

I am going to have to stop making To Be Read lists because they seem to doom the books to limbo. Most of the books named in my summer reading plan are books that appeared on a TBR list here on the blog at some point; all of them are books I actively want to read, or finish reading. I do this meta thing where I talk about wanting to read them but don’t actually, you know, READ them. And then eventually I do.

But anyway, I mention this because the TBR list has swollen again. Phoebe and I read the same James Sturm article at Salon (was it Salon?) and were intrigued by his mention of M. T. Anderson’s novel Feed. I read the first chapter via Kindle-for-iPod’s “sample this” option. Phoebe actually read the whole book, and she recommends it. I’ve got it on hold at the library.

Which is, of course, the reason for my Always TBR, Never R list…the books on that list are books I own. I wind up reading the books I’ve requested from the library, because there’s a time limit on them. Which ought to be a cautionary lesson for me.

My current library stack includes Enchanted Glass (the new Diana Wynne Jones), Magic Under Glass by Jaclyn Dolamore, two Kathi Appelt novels, another Hope Larson graphic novel, the Guy Appelt book we were talking about here the other day, Shannon Hale’s Calamity Jack, and, of course, Black Lamb and Grey Falcon. Which titles, along with the Byatt, themselves comprise a pretty fine summer reading list. Not to mention I have a new Lois Lowry (!) and a new Linda Sue Park (!) in my giant pile of review copies.

(Digital review copies, those two, which can only be read on a computer—since I don’t own a Kindle. The Kindle-for-iPod app is no good, here. This is an annoyance. I badly want to read these books, but I loathe the idea of reading a novel on my laptop. Ugh.)

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It’s not often I get to listen to an audio book. With my own young children around who aren’t quite ready for the books that I review, I end up listening catch as catch can. I was bound and determined to finish The Witch's Guide to Cooking with Children, not just for the story itself, but for the excellent performance by Laural Merlington.

When brainy Sol and precocious Connie move with their “dad” and their stepmother to Grand Creek, Sol isn’t too broken up about it. He is hoping that the move can give him a fresh start far away from “the terrible day”. True to form, Sol is already in possession of bus maps and some knowledge of their new town.

When they meet neighbor Fay Holaderry and her dog Swift they have no real reason to think that she’s anybody other than the sweet old lady she first appears to be. But Fay Holaderry has a deep, dark secret. She’s been taking misbehaving children out of families at the request of their parents for generations and generations. Yes, the methods have changed (big donation boxes outside of movie theaters have replaced the dark, spooky woods), but Holaderry’s still on her game, and thanks to a call from Sol and Connie’s parents, they are next on her list.

But Holaderry’s not counting on Sol’s genius or Connie’s pluck. Once they realize that their folks have it out for them, the combination of their personalities seems unbeatable! But can they outsmart a witch who has magic on her side and who has been cooking up children since the days of Grimm?

Keith McGowan has written a clever twist on Hansel and Gretel that modern kids will eat up! Since I listened instead of read, I did not get to see the accompanying illustrations. But I did get to enjoy Laural Merlington’s masterful performance in the Brilliance Audio edition.

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The Fathers Are Coming Home. Margaret Wise Brown. Illustrated by Stephen Savage. 2010. Simon & Schuster. 32 pages.

It is nighttime and the fathers are coming home.
The fish father swims home to his little fish that live in the gurgling brook.
The bug father flies home to his little bugs that live under the log.

I didn't love The Fathers Are Coming Home. Not at much as I'd hoped anyway.

The book is a traditional, old fashioned. Readers see different fathers coming home; these "fathers" are drawn from nature--ladybugs, spiders, fish, pigs, dogs, birds, etc. The book closes with a sailor coming home to his son.

There is one example that didn't quite fit with the others. And that is the case of a lion.

The lion father lives alone, so he comes home to himself.

This example doesn't match the premise, and it seems out of sorts with the rest.

I did enjoy the illustrations by Stephen Savage. They have a very traditional, very nostalgic look that complements the text well.


© Becky Laney of Young Readers

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1. Put on suit, grab sheet music, and play steady Sunday morning church gig in Dunwoody.

2.  Come home and toss sweet potatoes in the oven, dress in Marlon Brando outfit ("Stella!"), right down to a well-loved old tee-shirt (don't tell me you don't know and love someone who won't throw out a beloved, comfortable shirt even when it's a rag??) and sprawl on the couch to read while potatoes cook and wife taps away on 1966 novel in pink chair nearby.

3.  Be wished a loving, ebullient, full-frontal Happy Father's Day! by grand-dog you are babysitting.

4.  Love that dog!

 Ha! After a run outdoors, they settled down happily together, Elvis the poodle and Jim the musician, waiting for the sweet potatoes, and maybe even a little something more... a little brown rice to go under the stir fry of summer vegetables.
 Happy Father's Day, all. I often say "We are one another's mothers." Are we also one another's fathers? Dunno. I have never been a man, or a husband, but in my research for this 1966 book, I'm reading a lot about the women's movement of the sixties, and I stumbled across this fabulous short essay by Judy Syfers called "Why I Want a Wife."

Whoo! It makes me laugh! It makes me sit up and take notice! And rethink this Father's Day thing,

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Today my parents celebrated their 39th wedding anniversary! So, in honor of these remarkable people, I'd like to take this opportunity to post about my Mom and Dad.

Not only have I been blessed with patient, supportive and encouraging parents, I've been fortunate to have a Mom and Dad that truly love one another after thirty-nine years of marriage. Even though my parents have encountered countless challenges along the way, they have continued to grip hands tightly and forge through each obstacle, together, as one.



I love you both dearly, and appreciate all that you do for our family! You help make each day a brighter day!

How about you? Is there a special couple that has touched your life in a remarkable way? I'd love to learn more about them and see how they make your day a brighter day.

Have a great Saturday evening, everyone! Tory

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Brand-New Baby Blues by Kathi Appelt. Illustrated by Kelly Murphy. 2009. December 2009. HarperCollins. 32 pages.

Once upon a time
I was the only one,
I was the cat's pajamas,
I was the moon and sun.

It was me and only me--
I was the icing on the cake.
I was the royal pooh-bah,
the chocolate in the shake.

But everything changes when this little girl gets a baby brother. Now our little heroine has a case of the brand-new baby blues. While her life may never be quite the same again, can she find a way to count her blessings? Can she even learn to love him?


© Becky Laney of Young Readers

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A bunch of you have written asking for chicken update pictures. Earlier this week, BH and I took a couple of the girls out to help us weed the flower beds.

They are bug-eating machines.

A man and his chicks.

Along with the garden (we've been eating the first peas this week) and the chickens, we've been busy in the Forest preparing for ALA and this fall's book tour. I'll post my ALA schedule early next week. I'm not sure when I'll have the tour details... certainly by August. I'll be on the road a LOT, so I will probably be showing up wherever you live. If you bring your chickens to my booksigning, I will pet them.

On Monday night, we enjoyed a special book event, courtesy of the river's end bookstore. Author Michael Perry is on tour promoting his new book, COOP, as well as his other titles.

   (His books make EXCELLENT Father's Day gifts, btw - funny and heartfelt.) Michael is a small-town guy, like us, and is interested in encouraging people to buy local and live sustainably. Instead of the standard booksigning, for his event the bookstore took over a new restaurant in Oswego - La Parrilla.


    The restaurant was chosen because of its commitment to buying from local farmers. Guests had to buy tickets ahead of time - cost of book was included in the price of the ticket, as well as dinner.  The event sold out, we all enjoyed a very yummy dinner, and left with sore ribs from laughing so much because Michael Perry is a very funny guy.

Michael is posting on Shelf Awareness every day on his tour. His blog entry about Oswego gives his take on the evening.

   I'll be spending Father's Day with these two guys - my husband and my dad. I am in charge of deviled eggs and potato salad. They are in charge of the beer.

See you on Monday!

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Rilla, who is four years old now, pointed to the garland (made by Lesley) that hangs between our living room and kitchen. “I can read that,” she announced matter-of-factly.

“It says, ‘Please—be—on—this—roof.’”

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I’ve loved this song for many years. I even quoted one of the lyrics in my high school yearbook. I’ve come to appreciate it more as I look forward to fatherhood, especially because of this video that features nothing but home movies of John and Sean Lennon . Here was a guy who was as rich and famous as anyone can imagine being, but he found his bliss just hanging out with his kid.

Filed under: Family, Music, Movies & TV

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Summer is in full swing around here. Full of no schedules, sleeping in, hanging out with friends, swimming, enjoying life. This time of year is a blessing. I get to be a more fun mom. There's a lot less nagging to do and we're all grateful!

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So I’ll remember, and since you asked…

Various interests swirling here:

The orthodontist’s office is holding a contest. The person who comes up with the best name for the betta fish on the counter wins the fish. Rose’s entry: Kalliope. (Get it? A Greek name? Betta sounds like beta, a Greek letter?) She has high hopes of winning. This has spawned (ba dum bum) discussions on odds/probability, subjective vs objective criteria, and breeds of fish. The latter necessitated a library trip yesterday, and this morning I have been regaled with tidbits about various breeds of freshwater aquarium fish.

The orthodontist and his assistant were greatly intrigued by Rose’s account of the middle-grade graphic novel, Smile, Raina Telgemaier’s award-winning account of her personal orthodontic ordeal in junior high. This came up with Dr. G mentioned bonding as the final step in Rose’s treatment plan, and Rose volunteered that she had learned all about that in “this really great book I read.” She continued to explain that she had been “terrified about getting braces, but after I read Smile I was reassured.” Dr. G got quite excited and had his assistant write down all the information about the book.

We’ll be spending most of July at Dr. G’s office: two of the girls are getting braces.

So: fish, orthodontia, what else?

Jane is absorbed with practicing for piano guild auditions (Friday) and Shakespeare Club rehearsal. (Reminds me: we need to create a human thumb out of Sculpey.) Recent reading has included Dorothy Sayers mysteries; Musashi (a manga series); L. M. Montgomery short stories; a collection of Best American Short Stories; Betsy and the Great World (again); various Caroline Cooney novels; Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, As You Like It, Othello, and a bit of Henry IV, with corresponding sections in Bloom’s Shakespeare: The Invention of the Human (which are grateful to Mental Multivitamin for bringing to our attention). Oh, also the book she got for her birthday: A User’s Guide to the Universe.

Jane and I are going to work through Memoria Press’s Classical Rhetoric course together. Readings from: Aristotle’s Rhetoric; Adler’s How to Read a Book; Cochran’s Traditional Logic; and Figures of Speech. We’re going to start in a leisurely way this summer. Both of us are excited. Looks like some excellent discussion fodder.

Scott and Jane have been doing a kind of informal Film Club in the evenings. Recent viewings include: Men in Black, In the Line of Fire, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, A Few Good Men, The Natural, The Sixth Sense.

Bean and Rose spend a lot of time scootering in circles on the back patio, narrating adventures in a long-running fantasy story they play. Then Rose will disappear to the back room to write up the latest chapter on the computer. The subject matter shifts every week or so: sometimes a Warriors-inspired cat saga; lately the dramatic doings of a pair of princesses, one an ancient Egyptian and one Japanese. A set of Dover costume coloring books have provided necessary reference material. Beanie very earnestly desires to learn Japanese. Our library used to have a partnership with Rosetta Stone, but no longer, alas. I’m sure there must be some good resources online, but I haven’t done the homework yet.

Current favorite Wii game: Spectrobes (the older girls); Mario Kart (Wonderboy and Rilla).

I haven’t spent as much time in the back yard as I usually do this time of year. I think it’s because I’m sad about the absence of Monarchs. Everything else is lovely out there, though. A zillion bees (including honeybee and native species). Mourning cloaks, goldfinches, hummingbirds. A profu

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My baby turned 9 today. I have no idea how that happened. I'm so glad that he's still a cuddly little guy. He's so amazing! He's always creating things. His latest is ninja stars out of paper and paper airplanes. He knits, he sews, he draws. Both of my boys are creative. It's great to share that with them.

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Our Season of Becky is just beginning. Summertime kicks off with Jane’s birthday—she turned 15 on Monday, and a splendid day it was, even if something did go amiss with my frosting for the Rocky Road Sheet Cake. (Wasn’t enough to cover the cake. Mom, where’d I go wrong?) Scott took the day off work; Jane and I stole away to go shopping, just the two of us—quite a treat! And then came the fun of a visit from Scott’s brother John, who was in town for a convention. And later still, that delicious if unsightly cake. A good day.

Our various activities are winding down for the summer—just a few biggies left to go, most particularly our Shakespeare Club performance of scenes from the Scottish play. Next week will be full of rehearsals. Our group piano classes keep going year-round, but apart from those, our time will be pretty much uncommitted until Comic-Con.

And it’s funny: no sooner had I breathed my usual deep sigh of relief over the End of the Activities, I noticed a certain, erm, restlessness attacking the occupants of this little house in the afternoons. Suddenly, my mental declaration to Park Myself and Go Nowhere seemed a bit, well, mental—especially around 5pm when there are still two long hours to go before Scott gets home. By last week, the kids were starting to get under each other’s skin something fierce. So I’ve been scooping up the three youngest a few evenings a week and heading to the YMCA, where we have a family membership.

I was actually on the verge of canceling the membership—we got it when Rose was taking gymnastics, but around Easter she decided to take a break, and after we paid for May without going one single time the whole month, I figured it was time to bail on the membership. But fortunately (as it turns out), you have to actually go there in person to cancel, and I was too lazy to go. (Which is almost certainly their diabolical plan. The people who are not too lazy to go the Y to cancel a membership are probably the kind of people who go to the Y to use their membership. Either way, the membership doesn’t get canceled.)

So last week when the afternoon crazies hit my children, I suddenly remembered: oh RIGHT, we still have that Y membership, and there’s a really nice playroom there. So I took the littles to the playroom, where they are ecstatically happy playing with the nice college girls who work there, and the big kids got a much needed respite at home without small peoples clamoring for their attention and Wii remotes.

And there I was at the Y, with nothing to do. So I went into the gym and got on the treadmill (because why not), and then I found out there’s a free-for-members personal-exercise-program-planning thing, so I signed up for that (because why not), now I have this whole Official Exercise Plan mapped out, which is, if you know me, hilarious. The young personal trainer guy asked me what my “fitness goals” are, and I was like: Um, uh, well….I would like stronger arms. So I can open jars instead of having to wait for my husband to come home from work. So now I have a Fitness Goal of Getting Arm Muscles.

I am hoping to achieve this goal by August, when we will be going to a Big Family Gathering back East. You never know when you will need to impress the in-laws by opening jars.

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