Void Moon, Echo Park, and The Brass Verdict, all by Michael Connelly.  As I’ve mentioned before, I really like Michael Connelly’s detective fiction.  I didn’t like The Brass Verdict, though.  The hero was not heroic and I found the plot a bit contrived.  It wasn’t awful, but it was a disappointment.  Echo Park was good, but dark like some of his others (especially The Poet).  Void Moon was excellent.  It was told from the perspective of a criminal, but Connelly makes her likeable enough to make you root for her, even while you are not necessarily rooting for her to pull off her crime.  He did it by means of both characterization and plot, or at least situation.  I thought it was ingenious!  It had a good story and some other elements I liked a lot.  I might even read this one again some day, and that’s saying something for this kind of book.

Raising Your Spirited Child, by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka.  I’ve been hearing about this book for years, but never read it because I never considered Samantha to be unusually “spirited.”  But, I figured, it might be worth a look.  A look is about all I gave it – I mostly skimmed it.  I don’t think it’s a bad book, but I just found nothing in it that applied to my daughter, or that I didn’t already know.  I guess one thing I learned is that I was right that Samantha’s temperament is pretty average.  She didn’t fit into any of the categories in the book, and in many cases, she had such a mixed set of traits within the category that pegging her down was impossible.  For example, she does not stick with difficult tasks, but she has a really long attention span – these are contradictory elements within the “persistent” temperament.  Is she the persistent type, then?  My answer was “no” to that one, and all the others were similar.  It’s possible things will change when she is older, though, and I would consider reading this book again.

The Great Bridge, by David McCullough.  (Wow, two non-fiction books in a row!)  McCullough is the author of the hugely popular, recent biography of John Adams and other well-respected books.  Adam has been reading this one, about the building of the Brooklyn Bridge, out loud to me for at least four months.  We are about 50 pages from the end, but I can safely say now that this is a wonderful book.  It reads like a work of fiction, with heroes and villains and even a bit of a climax and resolution (I think).  This book is not good as a straight history; if so, McCullough would need to essentialize more than he does.  But the amount of detail that he includes is what makes it read like a story, with virtual characterization and plot.  Sometimes it is actually too much detail for me, but Adam can’t get enough.  (He tends towards empiricism while I tend towards rationalism, so he is much more comfortable in an ocean of facts than I am.)

McCullough’s translation of facts to story is amazing.  The example that comes to my mind occurs when McCullough was describing the dedication of the bridge builder’s wife.  When the builder became ill and couldn’t write, McCullough tells us how she had to transcribe his dictation onto paper as instructions for building the bridge.  There were massive amounts of these instructions.  The author tells us how she would get so weary that she would forget to sharpen her pencil.  Or maybe the point was that the builder would dictate in such a frenzy that his wife didn’t have time to stop and sharpen her pencil – I don’t recall exactly.  What I do remember is that when I read that, I thought, “how in the world could the author know that, about sharpening the pencil?” and I realized that he must have copies of those transcriptions, and that he must have noted the thicker lines of her writing.  Whatever the implication he drew, I was amazed at that detail that he must have noticed and then considered to write that passage.  The book is full of great things like that.

McCullough also seems to have a great respect for the achievement of the men who built the bridge.  That’s me reading between the lines, but I think it’s there.  I haven’t yet read any of McCullough’s other books but I definitely will now that I’ve tasted his storytelling ability.

The Long Lavender Look and Cinnamon Skin, both by John D. MacDonald.  I’m getting a bit tired of this author.  He has some good plots but the cynicism I noted before is starting to turn me off.  I’ll try at least one more before I give up on him since he has other good qualities.  I don’t recall either of these two books very well; neither made a huge impression.

I tried to read Fletch, by Gregory Mcdonald on the recommendation of a friend, but I couldn’t stand the glib, supposedly witty banter, and gave it up in less than 30 pages.

Straight, In the Frame, and Dead Cert, all by Dick Francis.  I continue to love Dick Francis.  His characters are so admirable and his stories are always interesting.  I actually liked Straight, a more (most?) recent one, the best of all I’ve read so far.  Usually, the quality of an author’s writing deteriorates over time, especially when the author is as prolific as Dick Francis.  But I heard or read somewhere that Francis’ son collaborated with him towards the end of his career, and that might account for my love of Straight.  Or, maybe Dick Francis just remained good up until the end.  I only learned last month that he died earlier this year.  Too bad.

The Targetby Catherine Coulter.  Oh my god, this book was so bad.  I picked it up from the library at my gym.  I should have put it down by page 30, but it tricked me by starting off ok and getting worse and worse.  Seriously, I can’t believe this book was published.  I was constantly confused about who was talking during the dialog, or whether characters had entered or left scenes, and that’s just the technical details.  The story was obvious and trite and corny and the dialog was embarrassing.  When I was telling Adam about how bad it was, he said, “Why do you waste your life reading books like that?  You should have stopped as soon as you hated it.”  I said, “I know.”  But then I went on and kept telling him about how awful it was.  He interrupted and said, “Stop telling me about it right now.  Now you’re wasting my life with a bad book.  Your punishment for reading it is never getting the satisfaction of venting to me about it!”  I thought that was hilarious.  But I guess Adam forgot I have a blog and I can vent to anyone and everyone as much as I want, so there!

Getting Through to People, by Jesse S. Nirenberg.  I accidentally bought two copies of this book because, quite some months apart (which is longer than my memory works) it was recommended by Jean Moroney and then by Dr. Ellen Kenner.  Those are some good creds!  However, I liked this book, but I didn’t love it.  I’m looking for help with assertiveness, and this book was more focused on persuasion and breaking through others’ barriers to listening.  Most of it was really worthwhile stuff but it just wasn’t exactly what I was looking for.  I’m looking forward to reading Asserting Yourself, by Sharon and Gordon Bower, another recommendation from Ellen Kenner, to see if it is what I’m looking for.

The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini.  I suppose I’m the last person in the world to have heard of this book.  Was there a movie, too?  I had never heard of it but I picked it up at the gym.  Despite my trepidation about a story set in Afghanistan and a weak ending, I really enjoyed it.  I loved the main character’s father, even though I’m not so sure that was what the author intended.  (As with most modern fiction, all the characters were mixed.)  But, really, I just enjoyed the story of redemption.  It was the book version of a good chick-flick – very emotionally charged.  When it is well done, as this book is, that can be a really good thing.

It’s really not such a mystery – it’s just the pain of setting up a new system, and I know it will be well worth it.  Also, as I’ve been freeing up my mind by offloading things into a better system, I’ve thought of many more new projects that I want to take on, and just getting them all down has been a challenge!  I plan to write more about what I’ve done and why when I’m more settled with it, but I’ll give you a few teasers.

First, I already had a really good system for staying on top of the gazillion Little Things that need to get done in my life on a daily basis.  I had a fairly clean “in and out” system, a calendar, a task list, and project lists for big things like all the home improvement plans we have.  I looked at my calendar and task list daily, and they helped me remember to pay the bills, return the library books, and even to write blog posts.  I recently added my Droid phone to the system, which has allowed me to be truly mobile with these tools.  I had to manually sync my Palm Pilot, which was a real hassle when you are adding literally a dozen or more items to your lists each day, sometimes while at home and sometimes not.  The Droid syncs up automatically and continually.  Plus, it has a handy voice recorder for those 1001 ideas I get while driving and walking the dog each day.

What I’ve learned so far from GTD is that:

1.  I absolutely must get my filing system in order.  I still have not filed a single piece of paper in over 2 years, since we moved from Michigan.  I have stacks and stacks of paper, my passport and birth certificate are missing, and when I do need to find something I have a panic attack.

2.  I’ve been using my task list improperly by setting dates for my tasks.  I need to have clear boundaries about which tasks are day/time sensitive (these go on the calendar) and which are just things I need to get to as soon as possible (these go on the “next actions” or “to do” list.)

3.  I need to get more clear on what the next action is for any particular task or project, so that when I come across something on my list, I don’t have to rethink the whole project to figure out what to do, but just look and start moving.  For example, I’ve had “filing” on my task list for 2 years, and every single day I postpone it.  It has been adding enormous stress to my life, and yet I can’t seem to move on it.  But “filing” is not a task.  I have to buy the supplies first, then figure out a place to work, then move everything to that place, etc. etc.  It is an enormous project and I have to treat it as such.  I’m actually not too bad in this regard – most of my “tasks” are actionable items, but there are a few that I’ve allowed to remain fuzzy in my mind for too long.

So, while I’m in this transition period, blogging might be light.  I wish I could rattle off a “what I’ve been doing lately” post like Rational Jenn is able to do with such humor and interest.  There’s been a lot of fun stuff going on here at Casa Mossoff, but finding a way to make it interesting to anyone but me takes more effort than I have available right now.

You’d think that I’d have plenty of time to blog, being house-bound with Adam at home to help with Sam and all the chores; but I can’t seem to get anything done.  I’m falling behind on the laundry and dishes, I keep forgetting to cook dinner, and the “postpone” hotkey on my task list program is getting worn out.

I was heartened to see that the library was open today and that it was packed!  I guess people do read, after all.  I’ve been reading a lot too, so I guess I’ll do a quick report on the last two books I’ve read, both for my book club.

First, I re-read Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility.  I love Jane Austen more each time I read her.  This time around, I finally started understanding her ironic sense of humor.  I was fascinated with the portrayals of “sense” and “sensibility” in the novel, and surprisingly, I was much more sympathetic to the characters who displayed an overabundance of sensibility than I had been in previous readings!  I found that, because Austen accepts the ethics of her times, “sense” includes a heavy dose of altruism and duty.  The (sensible) character of Elinor, although hugely admirable in her strength and moral ambitiousness, is much too concerned about the feelings and fate of others.  She also represses (not just suppresses) her emotions.  I still love her dearly, but I didn’t see her as the clearly better half of the sister-pair.  In fact, I ended up admiring the overly-emotional Marianne even more in the end, because she seemed to grow into a much more sensible person by learning from the trials of herself and of her sister.  The fact that I see these characters quite differently than I did 10 years ago showed me a lot about how I have changed in that time.  What a powerful psychological insight Jane Austen has, and no wonder this is a classic.

Next, I read The Butler Did It, by P.G. Wodehouse.  For the book club, we were supposed to read Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit, but I got the wrong book from the library (a compilation of 5 other novels) and decided to read this short one instead.  It was quite fun!  I loved the humor and the ridiculous ever-twisting plot, and I got quite a few of the literary references (although I’m sure I missed more than I caught).  The end was disappointing.  It had a little twist, but it wasn’t something that made me think, “Of course!  That makes everything else make sense and of course it had to be that way.”  It was more like, “Oh, that’s cute.”  I’d read more by Wodehouse, but I probably won’t seek him out.

I have Getting Things Done reserved at the library but it hasn’t come in yet.  Maybe by the time it does, the roads will be cleared and I’ll be able to go pick it up.  Probably not.

One idea was the author’s way of teaching a child to move more quickly using a game called Three Candy Speed.  Since Sammy is a big-time dawdler, I thought I’d try it.  You pick a time when things are not urgent or stressful to play the game.  You put out three small pieces of candy and tell the child that she can have them as soon as she accomplishes some simple task, like putting away her Legos or something.  As the child is working, and when she is finished, you tell her that this is called her “Three Candy Speed.”  Afterwards, as she is eating the candy, you explain that there will not be candy involved anymore, but that you just wanted her to feel what Three Candy Speed feels like, and to give it a name.  And you tell her that whenever you say, “use your Three Candy Speed” that she should move just like that.  I like this idea because it concretizes the idea of moving quickly for the child.  I decided to try it the other day while getting Sammy dressed for school. 

I broke a tiny square of chocolate into three pieces and set them on the ottoman and told her that she could eat them as soon as she got dressed, and that the faster she got dressed, the sooner she could have her chocolate.

She responded,

BUT I DON’T WANT TO GET DRESSED FAST.  I WANT TO GET DRESSED SLOOOOOOOOOOW.

She did get dressed much faster than usual, but that just means that she didn’t stop to pet the cat, smell her toes, read a book, pick up a fuzzball and throw it in the trash, tell me a story about the monster in her closet, point out the cool shadow on the wall, and just space out for a while.  She didn’t move quickly, but she focused on the task, and it was great.

But it was a one-time thing.  She definitely does not connect the words “Three Candy Speed” with moving quickly.  All she hears is, “candy.” 

Oh well, it sounded like a good idea.

First, I told her a Little Bear story.  I tell her stories based on the Little Bear TV show all the time.  I use the characters from the show, but make up stories on the fly.  Sometimes I use these stories pedantically, but sometimes they’re just silly.  I usually don’t know what the story will be until I’m telling it.  Yesterday, she asked for a story about Little Bear’s sweet tooth and a piggy bank shaped like a cat (??).  Here is the story I told:

Once upon a time, there was a Little Bear.  He lived with his Mother Bear and his Father Bear, in a cozy cottage in the woods. [This is how the story starts each time.]

Little Bear loved sweets.  Mother Bear said that he had quite a sweet tooth.  He could eat sweets all day long:  cake, cookies, candy, ice cream, pastries, chocolate, pie, hot cocoa – you name it!  One day, Mother Bear said, “You eat too many sweets, Little Bear.  You’re eating me out of house and home, and it’s not good for you.”

“What’s ‘out of house and home’?” asked Little Bear.

“It means that I don’t have enough money to buy so many sweets for you.  I have an idea.  From now on, I’ll make dessert for the family on occasion, but if you want your own candy and other treats, you’ll have to buy them with your own money.”

“But I don’t have any money,” whined Little Bear.

“Hmmm.  That’s true,” said Mother Bear.  “I have another idea.  You can work for the money.  You can do jobs around the house for me, and I’ll pay you money.  That’s what money is for, you know.  It’s a trade.  If you do this for me, I’ll give you money, and you can use that money to buy something that you want.”

“Yea!” said Little Bear.

“Now,” said Mother Bear, “I can only pay you a small amount of money for each job, say, folding the laundry.  You might have to save up your money for a while to have enough for a treat like a candy bar.  I’ll pay you five cents for a simple job like folding laundry.  A candy bar costs twenty five cents.  Do you know how many loads of laundry you’ll have to fold to have enough for a candy bar?”

“Hmmmm,” said Little Bear.  [And then commenced a counting exercise.]

“But where will I put my money while I’m saving it?” asked Little Bear.  Mother Bear replied, “I’ll buy you a piggy bank.  I’ll use my own money this time.”  [And then commenced a trip to the store where Little Bear picked out a piggy bank in the shape of a cat.]

So for five nights, Little Bear folded laundry.  He took the nickels Mother Bear gave him and put them in his piggy bank.  When he knew that he had five nickels, he opened up the bank, took them out, and went to the store, where he bought his favorite treat:  a chocolate bar.

“Mmmmmm,” said Little Bear.  “It’s soooooo good.  My sweet tooth is happy.”

It was the best chocolate bar he had ever eaten – because he had earned it.

The End.

We’re in the process of moving Sam into a new bedroom.  She is going to get the bigger bedroom of the two kids’ rooms on the top floor.  We figure that when SS (Sammy’s Sibling) comes along, the older child should probably have the bigger room.  Adam was putting on the final coat of paint last night, and Sam was excited to help.  (She actually did a great job and didn’t destroy anything, using a miniature roller, and with much supervision.)  But before we went upstairs to help him, I called her over, saying that I wanted to tell her something important.  I said, “Have you noticed how hard your daddy has been working to get your new room set up for you?  All good things take work.  Every single good thing in the whole world takes work.  And you might want to say ‘thank you’ to your dad for all the work he is doing to make your room so nice.”  She did say “thank you” later, but the point about values coming from work was the more important part, I think.

Finally, I read Sammy one of her books she got for Christmas for the first time:  The Wishing of Biddy Malone.  I didn’t even pick it out for the evening’s reading – she did.  Its theme is that things you get for nothing (wishes) have no value.   (And by the way, this is a beautiful book, appropriate for children Sammy’s age, but also much older.  Check it out.)

I liked Theme Day.