Cold Spaghetti

Here is a super-great review of Half-Blood Prince, by Time Magazine.

Some pre-bedtime fun in the relatively mild evening air after a sweltering day. The picture makes it look as if it is really dark out. In reality, it was only about 7:45 and not very dark yet at all.

(Fun note: Paul, Manx, and Scout are all watching him in this picture!)

Not JK’s best, but still a fun ride. Sort of dragged through the middle (we’ve heard it all before) with occassional moments of entertaining “snogging” (my new favorite word) or concerns over “U-No-Poo: The constipation sensation that’s gripping the nation.” In short, the fun read she usually gives is there… only not driven by the usual gripping plot (until the end).

It is the story we’ve become familiar with: Harry against the world, no one listens or understands, etc. Only, more so. I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily darker as a whole, but it leaves on the darkest note yet as Harry comes to terms with growing up and facing his future. In short, the book leaves you feeling like you’ve read a very long first chapter for the Book 7; it almost doesn’t seem to stand alone as a story the way the rest of them have. But take that with caution, as my experience is often that the books improve with multiple readings, so maybe I’ll pick up more on future reads. I did like that the overall take-home message is that the only way to front evil is with love: we’ve heard this throughout the series but it becomes poignant here, without being too heavy handed or sappy. Oh, and a warning: the rumors are right. Read with tissues.

The book doesn’t answer as many questions as I thought it would. But the questions it leaves are ones we’ve had since the beginning. It does a good job of tying in a lot of loose ends to make way for the final book in the series… which is going to be a doosy.

Scratch everything negative I’ve ever said about Florida. I love Florida. I want to live in Florida. Florida is wonderful.

I’ve just found out that the closest birth centers to New Orleans are in Florida. And that Florida has a lot of them. And that they have birth centers which support home birth. And that they have specialists in water birth. And (this is really super amazing part) they take insurance.

I repeat: I love Florida.

We’ve been working on a few of Will’s big confusions: milk versus water (leche vs. agua) and the fact that all vegetables are not peas. So far, it’s not been a great success. An example: tonight’s dinner, which included corn.

The scene:
Will is climbing into his high chair as he sees me cooking corn. Immediately he pipes up, “PEAS!”

“Will, this is corn. Corn can be many colors but we usually eat it when it is yellow. It grows on a cob and is surrounded by a husk. Corn. Maiz. Corn. Corn. Maiz.”

“PEAS!”

“Corn. Maiz. Corn.”

“Peas. Peas. Peas…. PEAS!”

And repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And repeat. It would be more maddening if he weren’t so darn cute the whole time.

There is no love like the love a Momma has for her baby’s toes. *sigh*

In the news…

A T-ball coach pays one of his players $25 to hurt an disabled 8-year old teammate so he wouldn’t have to put the child in the game.

Using taxpayer’s dollars, Laura Bush travels to Africa and discovers life is rough for impoverished women living with HIV, and — despite overwhelming evidence that it not only doesn’t work, but makes things worse — lectures to them about abstinence.

Meanwhile, in the White House, the President continues to avoid questions regarding Rove’s deliberate leak of CIA operative Valerie Plame, made in order to get back at her husband for having the intelligence to point out that, in fact, Iraq didn’t have weapons of mass destruction and therefore, no real reason (besides oil) to invade.

So many issues here, yet, is there a greater evil? What’s worse?
– Practicing bigotry through exclusion and violence?
– Being clueless?
– Promoting a political agenda despite the danger and death it causes?
– Cronyism?

A person could go mad in the debate.

Will gets all dolled up for a walk with Mom

We had a great weekend in Jacksonville. The beach was fun (we returned with the family later and had a wonderful sunny morning with great shell hunting, castle building, and burying Will in the sand), the pool was great, and the company fantastic.

Indeed, I was having so much fun that I momentarily contemplated my life as a Florida housewife. It would be like moving on to Wisteria Lane. Modest house in gated golf community, complete with perfectly poured streets and manicured lawns with the “pesticide application – don’t walk” signs still fresh on the curbside. Spending mornings at “the club”: me in the gym, Will in the center daycare. Meeting “the ladies” for lunch and cards, where we dish about our husbands’ lives and housekeepers. Afternoons in the pool while Will naps. Making dinner in the evenings. Taking an occassional pottery class to “have a hobby”. All I would have to do is look pretty for the rest of my life, and no one would ever think the less of me; indeed, some members of my extended family network may even think better of me. Maybe this is crass and jaded account of the life of a Florida Housewife, but it certainly seems like the life expected of me.

Reality check: The only thing I understand about expectations is how to challenge and surpass them.

Now that I’m home in my tiny, 100+ year old shotgun, walking down ancient streets full of bumps and cracks, with the pressures of work and the looming dates of comprehensive exams breathing down my neck, I’m so happy to have my life. I may have the appearance of the typical brainwashed American mom/woman/girl, but the reality is that I seek more than white bread for my diet.

Take home message: Ladies, expect more of yourselves than others do of you.