WordSisters

Tag: books

  • Spiders, Jeans and Apples

    Daylight now plays secondary to darkness. Not the awesome state of Dec. 21, but the gradual nibbling away of four minutes a day of sunlight. That doesn’t sound like a big bite of time until added up and you’re twenty-eight minutes behind the game in taking a walk, taking pictures of the last of summer’s flowers or merely reading without a lamp. 

    Temperatures are also supposed to be heading to lower numbers. The boys will wear shorts until their friends pull out sweats or long jeans. It’s all relative. In March sixty degrees suggests that a sweater can stay in the car or at home. In October someone will pull out a jacket and hat, maybe even gloves, when leaving for work. Spiders find their way into the house, spinning webs where no one wants to see a creepy critter hanging. The hummingbirds are gone, but the geese increase in number, pooping everywhere and honking at ungodly hours.

    Since the pandemic, things have changed. Or maybe it’s my age. Instead of planning a fall and winter wardrobe, I found new black pants, a pair of jeans, a new sweater, and comfortable shoes. A writer’s life is simple without office mates remembering that you’ve worn the same long black turtleneck for a few years. 

    Open the windows for cool sleeping. Bake apple crisp or apple pie or apple cake. Celebrate the passing of mosquitos when walking the old dog. If it wasn’t for November 5, this could be the best time of the year.

  • Saying Goodbye to My Books

    In preparation for a someday move, I’ve been parting with my books. Hundreds of them over the past three years. Most have been collecting dust for decades (I bought my house in 1989), while others are recent additions. Some are quick reads I started and finished while drinking a cup of coffee, while others took me more than a year to make my way through.

    Many are still on my “to read” list while others have been read and reread, by me and by the family and friends I’ve shared them with. Some were gifts, though most were bought by me at local bookstores or while traveling.

    One reason I have so many books is because the upstairs of my house, which once belonged to the owners of a local used bookstore, is a 45- by 15-foot half-story lined with—no surprise—bookshelves, 150 linear feet of them, plus three standalone bookcases.

    Although I’ve loved owning my books, some of which date back to my years as a college English major, now that I’m on Medicare and beginning to think of moving, it’s time to let them go.

    But parting isn’t easy, in large part because I still treasure the stories they told, the memories they hold and the lessons they taught. There are books about saints that I read while in Catholic grade school, and books about the sea I read while in Florida on family vacations. There are books I used to motivate myself, and others I turned to for solace after the deaths of my parents.

    There’s a shelf of books that include autographs from people I admire and heartfelt messages from people who love me. There’s even one shelf dedicated to books written by people I know, and whom you may know as well: Marly Cornell, Kate DiCamillo and Cathy Madison to name a few. Plus, books by Natalie Goldberg, Mary Carroll Moore and others from whom I’ve taken a Loft class or gotten to know because of a writing workshop.        

    Just seeing the books brings back a flood of memories of the books themselves—the characters, the settings, the twists and turns of their plots—as well as where I was when I read them: while packed in the car with my parents and four younger sisters on our way to Florida for a family vacation, while taking college English classes, while flying to China, while spending a month on a Panama beach, while sitting bedside during my father’s final hours.

    Others such as How to Forgive When You Don’t Know How and Living Proof: Telling Your Story to Make a Difference home in on my desire to be a better person and to advocate for causes I care about.

    And, no surprise to anyone who knows me, there are also dozens of self-help books, many of which inspired me to write my own book, What Do You Really Want? How to Set a Goal and Go for It, A Guide for Teens.

    While I’ve treasured all my books, I’ve recently begun sending them back out into the world. I’ve donated hundreds to Rain Taxi, a local non-profit that sponsors the annual Twin Cities Book Festival, which includes a book sale. I’ve also put dozens in the Little Free Library down the street.

    Still others I’ve passed on to family and friends whom I hope will enjoy them—or learn as much from them—as I have. They range from true crime to travel guides, from books by (and about) artists to how-to books on everything from fishing and stargazing to tying knots and learning Spanish.

    And because I now do most of my reading on my phone thanks to the Kindle and audiobooks I borrow from the Hennepin County Library, my shelves are becoming empty.

    Thankfully I have one thing that will keep my book memories alive: the annual “books I’ve read” lists. I truly treasure these lists and the many fond memories they prompt of the nearly 2,000 books I’ve read since I started keeping track back in 1982.

    As author Italo Calvino has written, “Your house, being the place in which you read, can tell us the position books occupy in your life.” And although there are now far fewer books in my house than there were in the past, I hope you will always be able to see the important place they hold in my life.

  • Listening to the Radio in the Farmhouse

    Listening to the Radio in the Farmhouse

    DSC07148I picture my mother in our farm kitchen listening to the AM radio. She would be washing dishes, picking up the kitchen. The eight older kids having already been dropped off at school, a baby napping, another two playing under her feet, one in her tummy. USDA came out with their first official forecast of planting intentions on Thursday – and it shocked the market. More corn acres then we’ve seen planted for three years, fewest soybean acres planted for two. Wisconsin farmers are looking out the window watching it rain or snow. Corn Stocks are expected to be up 1 Percent while the cattle market is holding steady.

    And now, for our Big Morning show, with author Elizabeth di Grazia.

    Think of this: when a child is raped, 46 percent of the time the perpetrator is a family member. Those statistics suggest many stories. House of Fire: A Story of Love, Courage, and Transformation is a remarkable tale of incest (including two pregnancies), loss, and eventual renewal that author Elizabeth di Grazia hopes will open a dialogue to change those statistics – and innocent lives – for the better.

    Would my mother have listened to the woman being interviewed since she had personal knowledge of what incest does to a family? Or, would she have shut the radio off?

    She’s been dead for almost 25 years.

    I think of her as I am being interviewed on the air with Ted Ehlen, the host of “Big Mornings” on The Big AM 1380 out of Janesville, Wisconsin. Janesville is a city in southern Wisconsin with a population of 63,575. Much bigger than the town I grew up in. Ellsworth, Wisconsin even now only has 3,284 residents.

    Would my mother have bought my book? She was a big reader. She’d buy books at farm auctions. One time a set of encyclopedias, another time boxes of Readers Digest Condensed books, and yet another time rows upon rows of Harlequin Romances.

    familyOnce, I overheard a person asking my mother if she had started writing that book that she wanted to.

    This surprised me. I didn’t know that my mother had a desire to write a book. Certainly, she could have. She had a B.S. from the University of Minnesota and a Masters in social work from Catholic University (Washington D.C.).

    I came to realize that I didn’t know my mother. I didn’t know what she thought or what was important to her. I didn’t know her past. I didn’t know what it was like for her to have an audience with Pope Pious XII or for her to serve in the U.S. Navy and help with the repatriation of World War II German refugees.

    I don’t want this same fate for my children. I want them to know me. And, they do. Long before my book came out they knew my story.

    They are a part of House of Fire as well as my partner, Jody.

    Now if I could just get them to quit telling about that time that we were at the Twins game and I sneezed so loud that all three of them hurried away so people wouldn’t think that they were with me.

    Layout 1Or, remind me of the time that they misunderstood me about growing up on a farm and Crystel would tell people that Mama Bef was born in a barn.

    They know that not much embarrasses me. That I’ll cry at their track and cross country meets. They know that I tell the truth and when I say that I’ll come to their school and sit next to them in their classroom if they have a tardy – that I’ll actually do it – even though they are thirteen years old. They know that if they ask me a question, that I’ll answer and I’ll give them too much information.

    Most importantly, they know that I love them and would do anything to keep them safe.

    March 21, 2016   WRJN AM1400 Interview with Glenn Klein out of Racine, Wis

    March 29, 2016  The Big AM 1380 Interview with Ted Ehlen out of Janesville, Wis

    April 10th from 12:40 to 1:20 I’ll be reading at SUBTEXT Books, 6 West Fifth Street, St. Paul for their local author day author series. I’d love to see you.