Place Matters: Looking for Mitford

The Amazon.com review pretty much hit the nail on the head:

Mix one part All Creatures Great and Small with two parts Lake Wobegon, sprinkle a little Anne of Green Gables and get: Mitford, the pinnacle of provincial life, where homespun wisdom, guarded tradition, and principled faith are the precepts of good living.

These days Jan Karon’s At Home in Mitford is on my car’s CD player each morning as I drive to work. I long for a place like Mitford. Small town. Southern. People care about each other. Know about each other. Not too much drama. Peaceful.

Oh well, this is fiction and I am only on the first book of the series. We will see if I stick with it beyond the first. But, I can see why it captured my attention as I explore my longing for what I call a sense of place – a place where I belong.

The National Trust for Historic Preservation offers a straightforward approach, calling sense of place:

Those things that add up to a feeling that a community is a special place, distinct from anywhere else.

In writing the blog this morning, I discovered that The National Trust for Historic Preservation has a This Place Matters Community Challenge now through Sept. 15 where you can pick a community and vote to support the community. The winner gets $25,000. 

I am throwing my support behind Orion, Illinois and its attempt to save Main Street. The folks of Orion say:

Our small community of Orion is "Rural America at its Finest!" Volunteers with Main Street Orion work tirelessly to avoid the fate suffered by other surrounding communities empty storefronts, shuttered homes, devalued properties, crumbling infrastructure, and shrinking population. Can it happen in Orion, too? Yes, and it has, to some extent.

The way the challenge works is communities "rally as many people around the grassroots issues of preservation in our communities as possible. This means that unlike a traditional voting-contest, participants are allowed to align themselves with one organization, one time throughout the Challenge and recruit as many people as possible to do the same."

Here's how to help Orion. Join me and see if we can help them out. After all, it's the neighborly thing to do.

And I’ll let you know when I get to my Mitford.

Happy Saturday!

PS Here is a Flickr Slideshow about the project

Sheila’s Christmas Countdown

I’ve written so many Christmas-related posts since I started blogging that I really am taxed to come up with something new. In my first Christmas post back on Nov. 24, 2006, I wrote about my favorite Christmas book. I won’t repeat what I said there except to say, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever is still the best ever.

However, this year I will first be reading a recent book and invite you to read along--an on-line book discussion group if you will. The New York Times story on “29 Gifts: How a Month of Giving Can Change Your Life” (Da Capo Press) by Cami Walker focuses on the notion that generosity improves your health.

Each day, I see the good side of humankind in my job at a small, grassroots not-for-profit organization, the Humanitarian Service Project. If you want to see the other side, watch the news. It’s all there.

For me, though, I know the power of goodwill and generosity firsthand. My attention was immediately captured when I read the story about Walker's book, and a stop by the bookstore will be on my list of errands today. That, and a stop by the Christmas tree lot, which is a departure from last year when my little apartment had no Christmas tree. For the first time since 1971, I did not decorate a tree. Freshly single after 36 Christmases, the ritual was more than I could handle. However, as it is with most challenges, you adjust.

Despite a crazy-busy work schedule filled with long days (our Christmas Offering is in its own countdown to Christmas), I need a Christmas tree this year. If nothing else, I need to smell the fresh scent of evergreen when I wake up. I need a reminder that the promise of Christmas symbolized by the tree can still be in my heart.

Happy Saturday!

Be Big

I entered this contest yesterday. You should too. You don't have to be a kid either. Scholastic is encouraging everyone to Be Big and think creatively about how we can help our communities. Go for it! You have until June 26. Wonder what I suggested? Just ask.

Where a Fully-Read Book Might Take You

If you read yesterday’s post, you will recall that I recently completed reading a book. As a woman who has endured, survived and suffered through way too many changes of late, I see why Joan Anderson’s The Second Journey The Road Back to Yourself caught my eye.

I fully intended to sit in one of Batavia Library’s comfy chairs and read a bit of the book, which I did. However, when it was time to go, I took the slim volume along with me. You see, Joan Anderson had 10 years earlier lived out one of my fantasies when she left her everyday life and spent a year by the sea in a journey to self-discovery. I haven’t read that book, but there is a part of me that wishes I could go off to some isolated natural environment and contemplate exactly what course and direction I want to steer the rest of my life. I don’t suppose younger readers will get this. They are too busy raising families and building careers and time is way too short for this sort of self-indulgent exploration. While time is not endless for them, it is indeed not quite so pressing an issue as it is with the older among us.

It had been 10 years since Anderson wrote her first book, the bestseller A Year by the Sea, and she was again ready to explore how her life was evolving. Anderson writes,

Now, as part of my ten-year inventory, I reflect on what is outlived in my life today. I’ve known for some time that holding on to anything ruins it, as does clinging to old ways, outdated ideals, worn-out relationships, and lifestyles that have run their course. As a culture, we seem to prize permanency. Certainly the familiar is comforting. But the way we were is not the way we are, and why would I want to still have those parts of my life that have lost their zest? Perhaps one of the reasons I felt so compelled to come out here today was actually to witness massive change. None of us can control the way life passes: we can only adapt.

Before writing the second book, Anderson again found herself at what I call loose ends. The first book propelled her into a notoriety of book signings and retreats and a newly found status as a guide or mentor of women seeking self-discovery. By all accounts, she was successful. Yet, her busy life was not all that she desired, and thus, the author set out on the second journey, a journey that this time included a visit to the mystical and remote Scottish Isle of Iona.

Maybe when I write and publish my book, I will be able to jet to my island of self-discovery. She writes:

The call to a second journey usually commences when unexpected change is thrust upon you, causing a crisis of feelings so great that you are stopped in your tracks. Personal events such as a betrayal, a diagnosis of serious illness, the death of a loved one, loss of self-esteem, a fall from power are only a few of the catalysts. A woman caught thusly has no choice but to pause, isolate, even relocate until she can reevaluate the direction in which she should head. Should she stay the course or choose another path?

But alas, many of us inhibit our capacity for growth because the culture encourages us to live lives of uniformity. We stall, deny, ignore the ensuing crisis because of confusion, malaise, and yes, even propriety. Yet more and more, I come in contact with women, particularly in midlife—that uneasy and ill-defined period—who do not want merely to be stagnant but rather desire to be generative. Today’s woman has the urge to go against the prevailing currents, step out of line, and break with a polite society that has her following the unwritten rules of relationship, accepting the abuses of power in the workplace, and blithely living with myriad shoulds when she has her own burgeoning desires.

Anderson’s book got me to thinking anyway. And I actually finished a book. Not too bad for a woman who has endured, survived and suffered through way too many changes of late.

Guilt and the Half-Read Book (Part 1)

A week or so ago I noticed a link to an article in the Chronicle of Higher Education. “The Pleasure of Half Read Books” caught my attention. I thought to myself, well, at least I have company.

Blaming everything from mega-bookstores like Borders and Barnes & Noble with their coffee shops and comfy chairs to the Internet and Books on Tape (CDs), the author of the article writes,

But if you were to force me to accept responsibility for having given up on reading books to the end, I would trace my habit back to finishing my doctorate in contemporary literature years ago. I realized then that except for books that I might teach or write about, I never had to finish another book unless I wanted to. I wasn’t going to be tested on any book for the rest of my life.

That is as good an explanation as any I know. I have started more books lately than I have finished, but tomorrow I will tell you about one that I did finish. Meanwhile, take William McMillen’s advice,

So don’t despair if you have a half-read book taking up space on your desk. Don't feel guilty about not finishing it just because you are a professor. No one cares, and you shouldn't, either. Just move it over to the bottom shelf of your bookcase and find something new. You’ll feel liberated, trust me.

Little Pleasures

New grandmas are apt to go overboard. How can you walk into a department store without seeing something just too cute to pass up? I steadfastly assert that I am not yet one of THOSE new grandmas.

My latest purchase was only $5 and it was for a good cause too. The other day while paying for some socks, I noticed the Kohl’s Cares for Kids books and plush animals near the checkout registers. Kohl’s says it donates all of the net profits to organizations working with health and education programs for children. Eric Carle’s “Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear?” caught my eye. Carle, illustrator of the classic, “The Very Hungry Caterpillar,” creates wonderfully bright and charming tissue paper collages.

Depending on your age, you probably grew up with Carle’s books or bought them for your children or grandchildren or as baby gifts. My son still has his tattered copy, which has now been passed along to the newest family member, Nicolas.

So, this little hardback became the latest addition to Nic’s blossoming library. You would imagine a family of writers would love books, wouldn’t you? I don’t know if Nicolas will be a writer or set out on his own course, but so far, this little guy has had one incredible journey. For now, his parents are telling his story on their new blog, Illinois Preemie. Later, Nic, Grandma Sheila expects to hear from you.

Valentine’s Day Thoughts

Life's a box of chocolates, Forrest. You never know what you're gonna get. Mrs. Gump

Winston Groom’s Forrest Gump became a beloved book and movie, but Forrest Gump just sort of fell into good fortune. He seemed to be in the right place at the right time.

Mrs. Gump’s wisdom is hard to argue with since we don’t know what will come our way. We can strive to craft the story of our lives with goals and objectives, but there is little security here.

However, there is to me one constant and that is love. Fleeting, lost, puppy, enduring, tumultuous, volatile, lustful, impulsive, friendship, romantic—there are as many kinds of love as a big box of chocolates.

It’s up to us to give and keep love in our lives. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Borat’s Back

Did you hear? Borat, the lovable and highly offensive faux Kazakh reporter, has come out with a guidebook about Kazakhstan and the US and A.

So far, comedian Sasha Baron Cohen has been talking up the book via e-mail interviews, during which Borat said when asked about the U. S. presidential election by Celebrity News Service, “I cannot believe that it possible a woman can become Premier of US and A—in Kazakhstan, we say that to give a woman power, is like to give a monkey a gun—very dangerous. We do not give monkeys guns any more in Kazakhstan ever since the Astana Zoo massacre of 2003 when Torkin the orang-utan shoot 17 schoolchildrens. I personal would like the basketball player, Barak Obamas to be Premier.”

J.K. Rowling Outs Dumbledore

Harry had better watch his back. When author J. K. Rowling answered a young fan’s question the other evening with the answer that Headmaster Dumbledore was indeed homosexual, she opened the door to what will surely be a new round of censorship for the hugely successful series.

According to the American Library Association who keeps track of these censorship challenges, Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell’s award-winning “And Tango Makes Three,” about two male penguins parenting an egg from a mixed-sex penguin couple, tops the list of most challenged books in 2006 by parents and administrators, due to the issues of homosexuality.

For the last two or three years, the Harry Potter books had strangely been missing from the annual list of most challenged books while Rowling continued to hold the fourth place among the American Library Association’s Top Ten Challenged Authors 1990-2004.

Over the years, challenges to the books revolved mainly around the central theme of witchcraft and wizardry. However, it is safe to say that we do not now have covens of budding witches and wizards due to fascination with the books. Hardly. We have many more college-age students—the ones who grew up loving Harry—who have moved on to other works. Molded into readers by their love of the books, these young adults like my own College Boy might not have been as enthusiastic if Harry and Rowling had not come into their lives when they were in elementary school.

Now, with Rowling’s revelation, I predict Harry may just find himself back on the list.

More than You Need to Know About Armadillos

From hours and hours of extensive research (well, honestly, that’s really about 10 minutes on the Internet), I bring you the latest in armadillo leprosy news. One of my most astute readers questioned whether armadillos carried leprosy, and I felt the need to double-check my “facts.”

And the first Googled source turned out to be an old friend of sorts, Cecil Adams from The Straight Dope answering the question, Is it true that armadillos carry leprosy? Cecil dubs himself “the world’s smartest human being” and has written several books and has a column in the Chicago Reader. The Straight Dope’s tagline is “fighting ignorance since 1973 (It’s taking longer than we thought).

Bear with me as I conclude this tangent before expounding further on armadillos and leprosy. While I never had any connection to Cecil, his long-time illustrator, Slug Signorino, had done illustrations for some of husband’s magazines. So, it was fun to see that old Slug is still at it. I recommend a visit to The Straight Dope Web site for an entertaining and enlightening excursion.

Apparently armadillos can carry leprosy. In the 1970s, 15 to 20 percent of the wild armadillos in Texas and Louisiana were found to carry leprosy. Yet, researchers in Florida found no sign of leprosy in 3,000 armadillos they examined. In the mid-80s a few people were found to have leprosy in Texas and Louisiana who had had no contact with human carriers. Their only connection had been some contact with armadillos—either racing them, extracting the meat or making stuff out of the shells.

The use of armadillos infected with leprosy has also enabled researchers to search for new drugs to treat the disease in humans and to test whether older ones induce resistance after prolonged treatment. Source: Howard Hughes Medical Institute

Advice from the Kitchen Sink: If you are dead set on eating or racing armadillos make damn sure they aren’t from Texas or Louisiana.


NOTE: I am not advocating eating armadillo but here’s a recipe found on the North Carolina Cooperative Extension Web site if you are ever tempted to try it.

ARMADILLO IN MUSTARD SAUCE

1 1/4 cups dry white wine
1/2 cup oil
2 garlic cloves, crushed (optional)
1/4 cup butter
Salt and pepper to taste
1/2 tsp. thyme
1/2 tsp. rosemary
1 med. onion, sliced thin
1 armadillo, cleaned and cut into serving pieces
1 1/4 cups light cream
1 tbsp. brown mustard (e.g. Gulden's) or Poupon Dijon
1 tbsp. cornstarch

Mix all ingredients of marinade and add armadillo. Marinate about 8 hrs., turning meat occasionally. Remove armadillo and reserve marinade.

Melt butter in deep skillet and brown armadillo pieces. Pour in marinade and bring to a boil. Stir in seasoning, cover and simmer until tender (about 1 - 1 1/4 hours.) Remove skillet from the fire and place armadillo pieces on a warmed platter.

Mix mustard and cornstarch, then mix in cream. Return skillet to low heat and stir in this mixture a little at a time. Stir sauce until hot, but not boiling, and thickened. Pour sauce over armadillo. Serve with steamed rice.

Review of Behind Happy Faces

Tomorrow is National Depression Screening Day. A few days after I participated in a bloggers’ conference call about campus mental health, a copy of Behind Happy Faces arrived at my doorstep. Written by Ross Szabo and Melanie Hall, this book is a very personal look at what happened to Szabo when he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder his senior year in high school. The authors weave other stories into the message that, despite the stigma society attaches to mental health issues, help is out there and that with treatment, there is reason for great hope.

The authors don’t sugarcoat their message though. While they point out statistics may show that “a large majority of people who seek help can see improvement in their symptoms,” they must first be willing to ask for help.

Szabo and Hall have written this book as a guide for young adults. Yet, their work is valuable for those who love and work with young people. They touch on what I believe to be the most difficult issue and offer suggestions about how to get those young people to see the need for help. Common mental disorders like anxiety, depression, eating disorders, attention deficit disorder/attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and borderline personality disorder are discussed. And Szabo describes how in his case, he fell into substance abuse to self-medicate the pain of his illness as so many other people do.

Whether it’s planning, maintenance, understanding the illness or adjusting one’s lifestyle, the authors stress “you are not your disorder.” They write: “The reason this distinction is important is because it casts a more positive outlook on your treatment. You’ll start to think of your disorder as something you can manage, not something you’re stuck with, or something that can’t be help.”

While this is a straightforward and realistic look at mental illness in young people, Szabo’s story provides much encouragement. From the low point of wanting to take his own life, he has come to terms with his illness and has an understanding of what it takes to manage the bipolar disorder. The authors promise no easy answers but they do offer advice from the mental health community and Szabo’s personal experience. Today, Szabo is Director of Youth Outreach for the National Mental Health Awareness Campaign and a popular campus speaker for CAMPUSPEAK, Inc. where he has reached thousands of young people. You might also catch him penning a post for the Huffington Post. He is a man with a mission after all.

Behind Happy Faces is a book that ought to be on the bookshelf of every high school and college counselor, adviser, teacher and administrator.

Harry Potter Comes of Age

One of my favorite writers beat me to the punch. Stephen King, writing in the July 13 issue of Entertainment Weekly, took on the subject of Harry Potter.

J. K. Rowling is about to conclude her series of books featuring the boy with the lightning strike scar. In case you’ve been in the wilds of Mongolia for the last 10 years, I’ll give you the lowdown. Harry Potter and his creator can claim credit for turning on a whole generation of young people, particularly boys, to reading for pleasure. Millennials (that’s what you call the generation after GenX) like son Scott grew up with Harry. Along the way, the books stirred the censorship pot of many a right-wing religious fundamentalist afraid that by reading the books her child would suddenly become a devotee and practitioner of witchcraft. I've worried a lot about my son but never about him becoming a witch.

In Goodbye, Harry, Mr. King writes:

“When it comes to Harry, part of me—a fairly large part, actually—can hardly bear to say goodbye . . . And I’m a damn Muggle! Think how it must be for all the kids who were 8 when Harry debuted in Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone . . . Those kids are now 18, and when they close the final book, they will be in some measure closing the book on their own childhoods—magic summers spent in the porch swing, or reading under the covers at camp with flashlights in hand, or listening to Jim Dale’s recordings on long drives to see Grandma in Cincinnati or Uncle Bob in Wichita.”

Long ago, I started reading the first Harry Potter to Scott. I suppose we were maybe a quarter of the way through when the elementary schooler, not an early wonder-kid reader by any means, took over for himself. Nearly every night for the next 10 years there’d be a Harry Potter book in his bed—not always the latest since he took to rereading the books. And in the mornings when I’d wake him for school, there it’d be next to him when he awoke. While his interests in literature expanded, the one constant was the love he had for Harry Potter.

We both read the EW article and I asked Scott, “How many times DID you read Harry Potter?” “To be honest, I read the first book at least 20 times and the others 10 times each,” he answered with a laugh.

Mr. King thinks “Rowling will almost certainly go on to other works, and they may be terrific, but it won’t be quite the same, and I’m sure she knows that.”

I don’t know, Stephen. Back many years ago, that little lady in Alabama wrote just one book, and you know, it was one damn, fine one. For years people wondered when Harper Lee was going to publish another one. To this day she’s seen no need to bother. I have to think J. K. Rowling did just fine with Harry Potter, just as Ms. Lee did with To Kill a Mockingbird.

In An Instant

I think I want to read this. Bob Woodruff's story is such a compelling one, and his family is indeed a special one to let ABC News cameras into a troubling and uncertain time in their lives. Was his recovery a miracle as some have called it or was it the result of the best in medical care and a spirit and will that fought back so strongly that the odds were beaten?

If You Give a Mouse a Cookie

For those out of the children's books loop, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie is the first of a series of wonderful books. We came across it the other day as Scotty was packing away some books to save. The plot is simple: if you give a mouse a cookie, he's going to ask for a glass of milk to wash it down. If you give a mouse a glass of milk, he going to want . . . Surely you get the picture.

Well, this idea can also be applied to other areas of life, and right now I'm in the midst of my "if you give a mouse a cookie" scenario. A real estate agent friend came by the other day, and as we looked around the house with me pointing out what I was doing and what I wanted to do, she said, "You know it reminds me of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Once you paint the walls, you notice the baseboards need paint too. Then the doors and you just keep going."

TTFN. I'm off to Lowe's for more paint.

My Favorite Childhood Books

I noticed someone over at amazon.com had compiled a list of nostalgic books from her childhood, and it prompted me to think back to a time uninterrupted by television, video games, cell phones or responsibilities.

My mom read to me from a book about dolls that would come to life after everyone had gone to bed, but I’ve long forgotten the name of the book. She read me Peter Pan, Treasure Island and poetry by Robert Louis Stevenson. We had a set of grocery-store encyclopedias. And she joined some kind of club where I got a series of books about history, world events, nature and science.

However, in Miss Sanford’s second grade class I struggled with reading. I hated my teacher. I hated school. If it weren’t for my mother taking time off from her job and coming to school to meet with the teacher, I don’t imagine I’d be writing this today. Whatever, my mom did and I think it was reading to me, it worked. By third grade, I was back on track with a love for my teacher again. Every elementary age kid needs to love her teacher. Mrs. Cox had taught my uncles and aunts and even my daddy. We had history as they say, and she still liked me. Mrs. Powell, Mrs. Stewart and Mrs. Kirkpatrick (for the second of three times) followed and all fostered my love of reading.

By now, I was ordering from the Scholastic book club every chance I got and reading for myself, often against orders to “Turn out the light and go to bed!” Seventh grade brought a teacher who read to the class everyday. She introduced us to The Boxcar Children and though I was a little old for that book, it somehow captured my imagination. We did book reports and made fancy construction paper covers for illustrations.

High school rolled around and found me at the little library in Prattville every chance I got, helping the two old librarians shelve books while sampling the contents along the way. I read Catcher in the Rye, A Separate Peace, Main Street, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, A Member of the Wedding, The Jungle, Seven Days in May, Rosemary’s Baby, To Kill a Mockingbird, and for a time silly books like The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis and Maxwell “Get” Smart books. I always wondered why my mom grabbed up a copy of Tobacco Road and said I shouldn’t read it. Instead, I found Valley of the Dolls.

At the University of Alabama, I spent more time on required course reading. Still, I never lost my love of books, and when Jeff came along, Bill and I dove into children’s literature with a passion. Bill was working on his Master’s degree in education at the time. We both instinctively knew how important reading would be. Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are, Mercer Meyer books like There’s a Nightmare in my Closet, Margaret Wise Brown’s Goodnight Moon, Peter Pan, Old Yeller, Huck Finn, the Narnia series, The Boxcar Children, all of Chris Van Allsburg’s wonderfully illustrated books, Judy Blume, S. E. Hinton—too many to name here, but these are the books Jeff and Scott will remember. Bill and I will also remember the closeness we felt each night as we closed the day reading to our sons.

Southern Summers

Well, if anyone read my very first post you’ll see that I got a DVD set of “To Kill a Mockingbird” for my birthday. We watched almost an hour of the documentary last night before Scott and I switched over to watching “Hell’s Kitchen.” How’s that for contrast? We have two fantastic cooks in the family (Jeff and Natalie) and Natalie is editor of Fancy Food Magazine. So you can see our interest. Plus, Scott had just cooked his first meal (an excellent homemade chunky tomato sauce with penne pasta) as a rain check birthday dinner. Boy, he goes all out for birthdays. But, I digress.

My husband and I started talking about how so different our childhoods were from childhood today. And how ours were more like Jem’s and Scout’s although Mockingbird was set in the 1930s. We’d stay outside as long as light allowed and even then we’d run around playing chase and catching lightnin’ bugs until someone made us come in. Then, we’d scrub the dirt necklaces from our necks and hop into bed. He grew up in Birmingham and I in Prattville. Yet, we shared that about growing up in the South with her long summers of heat and sweet tea and watermelons.

This documentary is a wonderful look back in time as is Harper Lee’s book and the movie. No surprise that the book is one of our most beloved works of American fiction. The South with all of her problems just gets into your blood. Maybe it’s the red dirt, the pines, the kudzu that overtakes a rambled down barn and gives it a green blanket of prettiness. Or washing machines and sofas on the front porch. I just don’t know, but I missed it for so long when we moved away after college and didn’t return until about three years ago.