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By Anatoly Liberman

I keep receiving letters and comments on the spelling reform. When I broached this subject more than a month ago, I was aware of the fact that some groups on both sides of the Atlantic still believe in the possibility of the reform. Thanks to several responses, I now know more about their activities. They organize conferences and publish books on simplified spelling. I am full of sympathy for their work, even though their voices are weak and the wilderness is vast. There is no need to repeat the arguments of the opponents, for they, like the arguments of the advocates, have not changed since the middle of the 19th century. I will only dwell on two. (more…)

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Author: Natasha Wing
Illustrator: Sylvie Kantorovitz
Published: 2007 Harcourt (on JOMB)
ISBN: 0152057757 Chapters.ca Amazon.com

Featuring playful, childlike drawings, imaginary adventure and the familiar ping-pong interaction of every stall tactic in the book, this 2007 Cybils Award Finalist turns the tables on the theatrical endurance test we call “bedtime”.

Other books mentioned:

• Scribble
• Harold and the Purple Crayon
• Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus
• The Prince’s Bedtime

Be sure to check out the freshly announced list of Fiction Picture Book Finalists for The 2007 Cybils Awards here. And stay tuned — the finalists in the Graphic Novels, Non-Fiction Picture Books, Non-Fiction MG/YA and Young Adult Novels categories of The 2007 Cybils Awards will be announced in three short days!

Yesterday we closed on the sale of the Marital McMansion, which ends, finally, the saga of the Never- Ending Divorce. It's been an emotional few days for the kids and me. Although mentally I'd checked out of that house a long time ago, the day before the closing I sat in the window seat of the empty study, where my dog Sandy had taken to basking in the sun, and thought about how hopeful I'd been when we moved into that house; hopeful that our lives would be better, that we'd make a fresh start, that we'd all be happy in that house together.

Heh.

But there were many good memories in that house. My sister and brother-in-law getting married in the living room, not long after 9/11; prompted by that event to "just do it". Summer days spent with family, lounging around the pool. Working with the kids in the vegetable garden - something which unfortunately went by the wayside the last few years. Having my little nephew "help" me re-pot my geraniums. My political "saloons". Writing some of The Novel Formerly Known as "Ketchup on my Cucumbers" in that study - but actually mostly in bed after the kids had gone to sleep, because I was freelancing during the day to make ends meet.

In the course of the huge task of emptying out a 6,000+ sq ft house, I found lots of photos. Photos of us all together as a family. They made me realize again how long this whole process took - because the kids were so young in those pictures. The kids have grown - I just had to buy daughter her first pair of shoes in the Women's Department - Son's been in the men's department shoe-wise since before his Bar Mitzvah (his feet are now 2 1/2 sizes bigger than mine) and I just had to buy him a new blue blazer in the men's dept.

I've grown, too. I also found journals that I'd written during my "Annus Horribilus", 2001, when I was hospitalized - and then released from hospital on September 11. Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire. In one, I'd set out goals for myself:

1. Find "Shalom Bayit" - one way or the other (Shalom Bayit is Hebrew for "peace in the home") Interesting the "one way or the other" comment...I obviously knew, but wasn't admitting to myself, that there was a chance we wouldn't be able to achieve that together.
2. Recover from bulimia.
3. Get a book published.
4. Use the gift that G-d has given me and all the things that I have been through and the experiences I've had to help other people.

You know what the amazing thing is? I've achieved those goals - or at least made a good start on them.
At the moment I don't have a "Bayit" to find peace in...I close on my new house on Thursday. I've recovered from bulimia, although I always have to be mindful and careful when the pressure and stress gets too great. Old coping mechanisms die hard.

Two years after writing that list I got a book contract.

And with The Novel Formerly Known as "Ketchup on my Cucumbers", I'm finally transforming what was probably one of the most painful experiences in my life into what the Super Secret Agent called:"poignant yet funny journey of a teenager winning her battle with bulimia." (She's so much better at coming up with those one line pitches than I am!).

Find that old journal allowed me to do something I've never been very good at - giving myself credit for what I've achieved and how far I've come. I always used to focus on the next mountain that needed climbing, rather than giving myself a chance to rest at the top and enjoy the view.

But enough of the serious introspection.

If you ask me what I'll miss most about the old house besides the window seat in the study, it's the pool.


Mary Poppins and I had some AWESOME pool parties, including one where she had..um...partaken of the liquid refreshments - perhaps, one might say, to excess - and broken her foot whilst diving off the side into the pool.

Which leads me to the newest Never Ending Saga in my life - my feet. Faithful readers might remember that after all the walking in our trip to Disney in April, I'd aggravated the fractured seisamoid (sp?) in my left foot. It's been extremely stubborn about healing. Two weeks ago I had to have a cortisone injection in it, which hurt like the dickens but really helped, although it's still not 100%. Then a few days ago, I started getting pain in my right heel. After visiting my new best friend, Dr. Weiss, of the Podiatry Center of Darien, I learned that I've got Schlepping-itis. For you non-Yiddish speakers, that translates to plantar faciatis (sp?) caused by carrying all this heavy stuff to the dumpster. (I love dumpsters!) This entailed getting a nerve blocking injection in my right ankle, numbing my right foot, which made it feel really weird to walk, not to mention drive. I emerged from Dr Weiss's office with *both* feet taped and instructions to rest (hah!like *that's* going to happen. I still have to move into the new house on the 13th!) and wear better sneakers when I'm moving.

You know what I'm looking forward to the most when I get my final move over? To sit down and put my feet up with a few ice packs on each one, grab my Mac (Yay! I love my Mac!) and start writing something other than checks.