Texas Postcard...

...postcard because these are quick jottings about our southern sojourn in Dallas/Ft. Worth, where I attended a conference on children's literature.

There WERE lots of armadillos, but it's probably a tie between OK and TX as to which state can boast the dubious distinction of having the greater number--they crawl all over our roads, too.

The conference very useful-- led by Peggy Sharp, a highly regarded, well known (I swear she has groupies among elementary teachers and librarians) professor of children's lit--I now feel quite up to speed on what's good, bad, indifferent in children's book publishing. One of the 'good' choices is a picture book called Cowboy And Octopus, seven stories of the friendship between a very articulate, accomplished octopus and a cowboy who is, shall we say, not the sharpest knife in the drawer. It has awesome illustrations. The stories are short--I will excerpt them for your amusement someday.

Went to the Ft. Worth Stockyards; had dinner at a cattlemen's restaurant--the kind of place with enormous portraits of prize livestock in gilt frames along the walls. One next to us was 'Lady Bang, 831st,' the something-something-something winner of 1956. Odd to paint for posterity something that one is going to turn around and butcher--reminds me of My Last Duchess.

Spring Break Has Sprung

... and not a minute too soon. What a wonderful ten days of not packing lunch boxes or making Malt-O-Meal at 6:30 am. Hooray.

This morning leaving for a children's literature conference in Dallas. Even though it will be a bit of a holiday, I am nevertheless envious of my pal Judy's awesome Costa Rican excursion: sudomir.blogspot.com

Finished 1776 last week, and want to learn more about the context of the American Revolution; the conditions in England and Europe prior to the break, etc. Consequently have just begun The Glorious Cause by Robert Middlekauff, which is positively huge. Also got hold of another book that specifically chronicles the battles--the title escapes me just now.

Still working on that annotated Zeppelin list, a task which has prompted another query for me to research: what band ( or perhaps what one song) holds the record for using 'baby' the greatest number of times? Now that I've started paying attention, I notice that this term of endearment makes lots of appearances in Led Zeppelin's songs.

Excellent Woment

If you don't know the novel of the same name, excellent women are those unmarried ladies who are so useful in their small, usually parochial, circle as to be indispensible: they know where the brass cleaner is kept, that cassocks ought to be laid flat to dry, not hung. They bring a wonderful dish to every potluck, don't need to use potholders, and are generally considered everyone's life saver, as in, thanks again for giving my cat her insulin shot--you are such a life saver. By the way, do you have any recipes for a good bundt cake I can fix for my in-laws? Really? You'll bake it? Sure it's no trouble? Wow, thanks a million--what would we do without you?

Excellent women are becoming an endangered species, what with one thing and another. But for those of you familiar with the type, and familiar with this novel by Barbara Pym, the too-little-known genius who out-Jane Austens Jane Austen, take note: I have been having a profound experience of the other end of the Excellent Women spectrum, as when Mildred and her old friend go shopping for new dresses and the friend goes for another green pullover, just like her old one, while Mildred tries to get her into something different and more flattering. The friend says, 'What's gotten into you Mildred? Who cares if it suits me. I always wear green pullovers,' or something to that effect.

I, too want to shake someone, shout at them, 'it's Spring! You're alive, you didn't die from your recent illness, it's going to be Easter in a week--wear something different, talk about something new and different, or at least smile and go outdoors. Realize, for once, that life and its details do not have to always be usual, normal, same'.

Unfortunately I seem to be the only one feeling this way. Everyone else--the newspapers, current events, politics, people around me, seem to be trudging along as though nothing will ever change, telling ME in reply that I am strange, and don't I know they always wear green pullovers. Sigh...

Transitioning

(Gerunds are such clunky but vital things, aren't they?)

Yesterday I hosted what, for lack of any better term, I call the Ladies With Babies: four of my friends who have all had new babies within the last four months. Excepting one woman, whose cute little son was her first, everyone has other children, as well.

But I was the only one without a brand new baby, hence my transitioning from Young Married to Young Matron; maybe even just Matron. Ugh. Labeled just like the poor woman in an Edith Wharton story. My husband pointed out that we have four children; it isn't as though we haven't any. Yes, but I don't have a baby baby, you see. And that's okay for now. I enjoyed giving my friends lunch and having their lovely company and lovely little bundles. Still... who would have ever thought fecundity could be such a threat or source of sorrow?

Coming Soon...

...an annotated list of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs from their first four albums. When I say annotated, I mean it will have my own highly unscientific, highly personal reasons for liking particular songs. I am certainly no music expert or even scholar. But, for instance, a few of their songs have given me such a strong sensation of swimming, that I've realized that I often experience music the same way that I do water, if that makes any sense. Like I said, it's coming soon.

Crow Food

We have crows living near us. Not sure exactly where they roost--I think a few blocks away, near open fields. I have been interested in them since the day two wrestled over a frosted toaster pastry in my front yard. It had been dropped by one of the kids, and was soon discovered by birds. The crows showed up and smaller birds flew off.

Curiously, they did not care for the frosting, but instead turned it over and pecked at the plain side. Then, with about a third of it left, one tried to fly with it. It took three attempts, but he finally managed to get in the air, taking the pastry remnant to a nearby tree, remaining there until rain dissolved it later in the day.

Now I leave all sorts of food scraps for them, just for the fun of watching them interact with it. They love dry dog food and cat food, and these, from what I've read, are nutritionally appropriate for them. More so than french fries anyway. Hardboiled eggs, in the shell, are another big hit--they will either rip off the shell with their claws and devour the insides, or else poke a small hole and carry it off in their beak. I've also watched one or two merely roll the egg around, play with it and not eat it.

Baby, If You've Ever Wondered...

Courtesy of Classic TV Database: WKRP In Cincinnati theme song lyrics!

I loved that show, in the way a child loves watching their parents' tv shows, trying to figure out why everyone is laughing. I remember thinking the theme song sad and lonely, and taking it literally. That of course probably added to the sadness.

WKRP In Cincinnati

Baby, if you've ever wondered,
Wondered, whatever became of me,
I'm living on the air in Cincinnati,
Cincinnati, WKRP.

Got tired of packing and unpacking,
town to town and up and down the dial.
Maybe you and me were never meant to be,
but baby, think of me once in a while:
I'm at WKRP in Cincinnati.

Etymological Wonder

From Chambers Dictionary Of Etymology:

Stevedore: n. person who loads and unloads ships. 1828 (in 1788 stowadore), American English; borrowed from Spanish estibador, one who loads cargo, from estibar, to stow cargo, from Latin stipare pack down, press; see STIFF-v. 1862, American English, to load and unload a ship; from the noun.

I wonder where we get 'stiff', as in 'a bunch of working stiffs.' Is it from this word, or is it from the 'stiff' sense used for corpses? The dictionary doesn't say.

I love the word stevedore. Had to look it up in high school, reading something in English class that I can't remember now, which is a pity. Maybe it was Herman Melville.

Ten Minutes Of Tech

Just returned from a conference for librarians: How To Grow Your Library, or something. The speaker works at an enormous public high school in a state where librarian/media specialist positions are continually threatened by budget cuts. Therefore she is always looking for ways to make herself not only relevant, but vital to her school. Hence the 'Ten Minutes Of Tech'. Once a month, at staff meetings, she demonstrates how students can use ipods to cheat, cellphones to plagarize, how to use a digital camera, etc.

On a tangent, it made me wonder in what ways all of us try to get our ten minutes with others, though not necessarily to tell them about new technology. How much of our action comes from a desire to be (or at any rate, seem) relevant, vital, to others? Personally I am trying to calculate what portion of my own such efforts are superficial and wasted, and what part actually carry real value.

The Hokey Pokey Of Death

...Perhaps that is being a little dramatic, but I can blame it on all my recent illness. I was sick pretty much the entire month of February, first with bronchitis, then a sinus infection. I lost ten pounds and gained one cracked rib. I still have the sinus infection and am on three different prescriptions. Someone yesterday asked me if I had one foot in this world and the other in the next, and I could not decide. Later concluded that it is more akin to that staple of elementary music programs everywhere:

You put your right foot in,
You take your right foot out,
You put your right foot in
and you shake it all about--
You do the hokey pokey
and you turn yourself around--

that's what it's all about. Really.