Two from my bookshelf this month. Woot! The third was for my bookclub, so I had no choice but to read something else. It was a great month, too, in terms of the books.
My Year of Living Biblically, by A.J. Jacobs
Highly recommend. A nonfiction account by a secular man (he identifies himself as Jewish, but experienced very little religious tradition growing up) who decides to spend a year following the Bible as closely as possible. As part of his quest, he seeks out experiences in a wide variety of religious traditions, both Jewish and Christian. I didn't expect to enjoy this book as much as I did, but it is one of the few that I am tempted to go back to the beginning and read it again, right away. His writing style, in particular, made it a very enjoyable yet thought-provoking book.
Tomorrow They Will Kiss, by Eduardo Santiago
Highly recommend. The story of three women from the same town in Cuba, after they emigrated to the United States in the 1960s and work together at a doll factory in Union City, NJ. The story is told through the points of view of all three women, and the author artfully blends and builds the story using their different perspectives.
The Tenth Song, by Naomi Ragen
Recommend. This was my book club selection. The story of a Jewish family torn apart by scandal, some of the plot lines were a bit too outrageous to swallow whole. However, I did enjoy the mystical parts of the book relating to the youngest daughter's journey to Israel. Unfortunately it paled beside the other two, but it is a fairly quick and enjoyable read.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Monday, July 30, 2012
county fair, county fair
Everybody in town wasn't there, at least on Saturday, because it poured and poured and poured some more, even before the deluge on Saturday night. Turns out I couldn't have returned, even if I tried, because the road into the fairgrounds was closed. Several people who didn't intend to spend the night there ended up having no choice!
We jinxed ourselves with the giant sheep show. The last time the fairgrounds flooded, we had 20 sheep coming for the invitational sheep show. This year, we had 40. I should have known. We were almost done with the entire sheep show on Saturday morning, and the fairgrounds had to be evacuated because of lightning. Back the sheep went into their pens for 45 minutes, until we were eventually able to finish up.
Due to all the crazy, did I get a picture of Primo and his Best in County Yearling Ewe? No I did not. The best I have is a picture of him helping out his little brother, who was getting the business from his wild little ewe lamb, Lambykins.
This was truly Primo's year, though in very subtle ways. He was the bedrock of our family and farm getting ready and out the door in a timely manner, anticipating what needed to be done and helping me with all kinds of organizational tasks. He worked his tail off all weekend, setting up the sound system, putting up rain flaps, taking down rain flaps, setting up for the sheep show, cleaning up after the sheep show, organizing a line dancing activity for club members (yes, he did, Aunt Paula! using steps he printed off the internet before the show...)
But the most impressive to me was the sheep shearing demonstration his friends and he did for the public. George was in charge of the shearing, and Alex (with some help from George's sister) kept up a spontaneous running commentary about the process, the results, various things that could be done with a sheep's fleece, and anything else that came to mind, with absolutely no assistance from an adult.
They are both 16. It blows me away.
In addition to the undocumented sheep showing, we had some goat showing:
We jinxed ourselves with the giant sheep show. The last time the fairgrounds flooded, we had 20 sheep coming for the invitational sheep show. This year, we had 40. I should have known. We were almost done with the entire sheep show on Saturday morning, and the fairgrounds had to be evacuated because of lightning. Back the sheep went into their pens for 45 minutes, until we were eventually able to finish up.
Due to all the crazy, did I get a picture of Primo and his Best in County Yearling Ewe? No I did not. The best I have is a picture of him helping out his little brother, who was getting the business from his wild little ewe lamb, Lambykins.
This was truly Primo's year, though in very subtle ways. He was the bedrock of our family and farm getting ready and out the door in a timely manner, anticipating what needed to be done and helping me with all kinds of organizational tasks. He worked his tail off all weekend, setting up the sound system, putting up rain flaps, taking down rain flaps, setting up for the sheep show, cleaning up after the sheep show, organizing a line dancing activity for club members (yes, he did, Aunt Paula! using steps he printed off the internet before the show...)
But the most impressive to me was the sheep shearing demonstration his friends and he did for the public. George was in charge of the shearing, and Alex (with some help from George's sister) kept up a spontaneous running commentary about the process, the results, various things that could be done with a sheep's fleece, and anything else that came to mind, with absolutely no assistance from an adult.
They are both 16. It blows me away.
In addition to the undocumented sheep showing, we had some goat showing:
No, we don't have goats, but now my kids wish we did!
Terzo's costume, which he designed himself, was also a big hit, once he finally got to present it on Sunday (costume contest was rained out on Saturday):
Sheriff Terzo and on-the-Lam(bykins) took second place.
The goat milking contest was also a hit, as always.
No winners in our family this year, but look at that concentration!
Now all we need to do is finish a heap of wet laundry (everything got soaked on Saturday night, including all the sleeping bags), dry out the tents, and get back to something resembling normal after another great—but exhausting—county fair.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
soggy fair night
I am home, watching the radar map on weather.com scroll a horrendous thunder storm across the fairgrounds. My poor LSH is there with the boys tonight; per fair tradition, my shift was last night.
Apparently the flooding is almost as bad as it was three years ago (pictures here). The kids are safe in the park's visitor center, and the animal tent is holding its own. The storm should be on its way out soon, and hopefully they will be able to get a good night's sleep despite the wet start.
Ugh. I feel so powerless. I want to get in the car and drive back up, but they are adamant that they (and I) should stay put in our respective locations.
So here I sit, refreshing the weather radar map every five minutes and texting them updates on their situation, praying that they will be relatively safe and dry in their sleeping tents, which are located on much higher ground than the show tents. Not really sure how much sleep any of us will be getting tonight.
Apparently the flooding is almost as bad as it was three years ago (pictures here). The kids are safe in the park's visitor center, and the animal tent is holding its own. The storm should be on its way out soon, and hopefully they will be able to get a good night's sleep despite the wet start.
Ugh. I feel so powerless. I want to get in the car and drive back up, but they are adamant that they (and I) should stay put in our respective locations.
So here I sit, refreshing the weather radar map every five minutes and texting them updates on their situation, praying that they will be relatively safe and dry in their sleeping tents, which are located on much higher ground than the show tents. Not really sure how much sleep any of us will be getting tonight.
Friday, July 27, 2012
couldn't do it
The first night of fair, which is tonight, is always a potluck dinner. In past years I have done giant batches of pulled pork or sloppy joes, but I told myself I was doing enough this year. I was going to bring a huge bowl of coleslaw (pre-shredded cabbage, mix from the store) and a huge bag of chips and that was it.
I couldn't do it.
I caved around 2 pm today, at the thought of showing up to a potluck with 4 hungry boys/men and no meat. I ran to the store and picked up baked beans and hot dogs. Beanie weenies are now cooking in the crockpot on high. It is meat in the loosest sense of the word but at least I don't feel like I will be showing up empty-handed. Or no-meated. Whatever.
Same way that I couldn't let the last post stand as my final word before fair.
I really do enjoy fair, and the kids in the club, and the parents of those kids, and the entire weekend. It can be a bit overwhelming and very stressful, true. At the end of it, though, there is a feeling of great accomplishment that really can't be beat.
Now, if I can just get from here to there without any major meltdown, we should be good. We'll start with putting some sheep on a trailer, and hope the rest goes smoothly. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
I couldn't do it.
I caved around 2 pm today, at the thought of showing up to a potluck with 4 hungry boys/men and no meat. I ran to the store and picked up baked beans and hot dogs. Beanie weenies are now cooking in the crockpot on high. It is meat in the loosest sense of the word but at least I don't feel like I will be showing up empty-handed. Or no-meated. Whatever.
Same way that I couldn't let the last post stand as my final word before fair.
I really do enjoy fair, and the kids in the club, and the parents of those kids, and the entire weekend. It can be a bit overwhelming and very stressful, true. At the end of it, though, there is a feeling of great accomplishment that really can't be beat.
Now, if I can just get from here to there without any major meltdown, we should be good. We'll start with putting some sheep on a trailer, and hope the rest goes smoothly. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
almost at the fair
Hard to believe that tomorrow we will be at fair. We didn't get as many exhibit entries done as we usually do, but it has just been one of those years. My children and I are perilously close to burn-out and so I did my best not to push. The sheep were non-negotiable, but even in that regard, we have significantly scaled back. We did pick up an extra lend-a-lamb kid, which is a bit more work for us, but Primo has been a huge help in making it work.
Picking up extra kids is the name of the game this time of year. I try not to get too ratty about the parent that bums a ride off me for their kid because they are so, so busy, only to be asked when dropping the kid off "just to take them to the neighbor's house, because we at a little party down there."
Seriously?
My LSH tells me I have to put my foot down about such advantage-taking. I would hate to jeopardize a kid's participation just because their parents don't make it a priority to get them there, however. I do it all the year round, but it is this time of year when it tends to bug me the most. Things worm their way under my skin more easily when I am stretched thin. But if I am totally honest here, the chatter and laughter of a carload of kids goes a long way to easing any temporary annoyance.
One more day and we will move the farm up to the fairgrounds... two more days and the largest 4-H sheep show in NJ will be done (seriously, over 50 entries, it has to be some sort of record)... three more days and the milking contest, costume contest, goat show, rabbit show, poultry show, round robin contest, you name it, will be finished and all ribbons and trophies and miscellaneous recognitions handed out.
And then we will be back home, and it will be all over and done with for another year.
Picking up extra kids is the name of the game this time of year. I try not to get too ratty about the parent that bums a ride off me for their kid because they are so, so busy, only to be asked when dropping the kid off "just to take them to the neighbor's house, because we at a little party down there."
Seriously?
My LSH tells me I have to put my foot down about such advantage-taking. I would hate to jeopardize a kid's participation just because their parents don't make it a priority to get them there, however. I do it all the year round, but it is this time of year when it tends to bug me the most. Things worm their way under my skin more easily when I am stretched thin. But if I am totally honest here, the chatter and laughter of a carload of kids goes a long way to easing any temporary annoyance.
One more day and we will move the farm up to the fairgrounds... two more days and the largest 4-H sheep show in NJ will be done (seriously, over 50 entries, it has to be some sort of record)... three more days and the milking contest, costume contest, goat show, rabbit show, poultry show, round robin contest, you name it, will be finished and all ribbons and trophies and miscellaneous recognitions handed out.
And then we will be back home, and it will be all over and done with for another year.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
list upon list
It is that week, the week that every 4-H leader and parent (and I think even member) dreads:
Pre-fair week.
Not enough time, and too much to do. Stress levels very, very high despite an effort on my part to keep the expectations at a reasonable level. Patience and energy at a very low ebb. Coping skills in short supply when they are most desperately needed. Memory completely gone.
The last problem led to this state of affairs on my desk this afternoon:
Not just one list. Four separate ones going at once: one for normal household stuff, one for 4-H fair issues, one for Coopworth sheep show issues (a whole different show, happening in September, because I am a glutton for punishment apparently), and one for things that I was trying to get done yesterday.
I am still working on yesterday's list. I am not as efficient as I think I should be.
Despite all these lists, I managed to forget a rather important thing this morning. I was supposed to be on call to open up my LSH's office, and when I was actually called, I was thirty minutes away, doing something completely different.
At least come hell or high water (and hopefully neither one, actually), the fair list will go away this weekend. With any luck, my sanity will not disappear with it, but it's always a close call.
Pre-fair week.
Not enough time, and too much to do. Stress levels very, very high despite an effort on my part to keep the expectations at a reasonable level. Patience and energy at a very low ebb. Coping skills in short supply when they are most desperately needed. Memory completely gone.
The last problem led to this state of affairs on my desk this afternoon:
Not just one list. Four separate ones going at once: one for normal household stuff, one for 4-H fair issues, one for Coopworth sheep show issues (a whole different show, happening in September, because I am a glutton for punishment apparently), and one for things that I was trying to get done yesterday.
I am still working on yesterday's list. I am not as efficient as I think I should be.
Despite all these lists, I managed to forget a rather important thing this morning. I was supposed to be on call to open up my LSH's office, and when I was actually called, I was thirty minutes away, doing something completely different.
At least come hell or high water (and hopefully neither one, actually), the fair list will go away this weekend. With any luck, my sanity will not disappear with it, but it's always a close call.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
unusual delivery
Apparently, I have a reputation.
Forget dropping off stray cats at our house. People have now taken to dropping off stray fiber.
We first became aware of its existence when my in-laws reported that someone had left a bag of vegetables hanging on our mailbox. That actually wouldn't have been unheard of, but I cannot imagine what vegetables resemble the contents of that bag. In their defense, however, who on earth would have thought that someone would have left a bag of fiber hanging on a mailbox? It is so outside the paradigm of expected deliveries that I can understand the confusion.
Turns out it is llama fiber from my neighbor down the street, confirmed when I ran into her at the supermarket today. Now, what to do with it? In a three steps forward, one step backwards sort of fashion, it ended up in the basement while I decide.
May as well get it washed while I am figuring it out.
Forget dropping off stray cats at our house. People have now taken to dropping off stray fiber.
We first became aware of its existence when my in-laws reported that someone had left a bag of vegetables hanging on our mailbox. That actually wouldn't have been unheard of, but I cannot imagine what vegetables resemble the contents of that bag. In their defense, however, who on earth would have thought that someone would have left a bag of fiber hanging on a mailbox? It is so outside the paradigm of expected deliveries that I can understand the confusion.
Turns out it is llama fiber from my neighbor down the street, confirmed when I ran into her at the supermarket today. Now, what to do with it? In a three steps forward, one step backwards sort of fashion, it ended up in the basement while I decide.
May as well get it washed while I am figuring it out.
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