Censored!

I guess, if you want to get technical, I wasn’t really censored. According to dictionary.com, to censor is to delete a word or passage of text, and Amazon didn’t do that. Instead, they refused to post my entire book review on their website because it didn’t “adhere” to their guidelines.

Admittedly, I was miffed. I had put considerable thought and time into my review of J. Ryan Stradal’s newly released book The Lager Queen of Minnesota. But more than miffed, I was confused. I’d raved about the book and given it a 5-star review. Grudgingly, I clicked on the link that would offer an  explanation as to why my review had been rejected, and after plowing through their guidelines, I was  still confused … and mad. As far as I know, I’m not related to Stradal, and this review wasn’t in response to a request or in return for money. In addition, I’d tried to be respectful—didn’t have any content that was “libelous, defamatory, harassing, threatening or inflammatory.” Hadn’t included any “obscenities or profanity, and [hadn’t] expressed hatred or intolerance…” yada, yada, yada. At least I didn’t think I had, but in these days of heightened sensibilities, who knows?

But rather than pursue the futile task of taking on the mega giant of e-tail, I decided to make better use of my time and post it on my own website. While my review might not reach millions of customers, it will still be read by thousan … hundre … several of my discerning and faithful followers. Take that, Amazon! 

Without further fanfare—or griping—here is my review:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

After reading Kitchens of the Great Midwest, I looked forward to another book from J. Ryan Stradal with both anticipation and apprehension. Many times when an author’s debut novel is an overwhelming success, the follow-up tends to disappoint. But this was not the case with The Lager Queen of Minnesota. I enjoyed this novel even more than his first one. Maybe it’s because of where I am in my own life that I loved his wise, kind, and tenacious protagonist and I appreciated Stradal’s treatment of … let’s say “women of a certain age.” As in his first book, I was captivated by his characters’ midwest idiosyncrasies —which I found both hilarious and endearing. I was also impressed by his vast knowledge of the beer industry. Having never been a beer drinker, I learned so much about the art and skill that goes into brewing a quality product. (I even googled what IPA stands for.) Most of all I loved his message about the importance of community. I’m a total sucker for any story in which the most unlikely of people achieve success through supporting and encouraging one another. As I did with Kitchens…, I’m sure I’ll be revisiting this uplifting story again and again. 

Also, kudos to Judith Ivey, the narrator of the audio version. Her talents as a seasoned actress contributed greatly to the delight of listening to the book.

That’s it. I don’t know … maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned people of the midwest have idiosycrasies. Maybe the phrase “ladies of a certain age” is offensive to some, but since I’m one of those ladies I didn’t think it would be a problem. Or maybe Amazon has a bias against people who don’t drink beer. 

Whatever the problem, I hope my review isn’t so offensive that it keeps you from reading the book. If you enjoy funny, fast-paced stories about plucky, multi-generational women, this book is for you.

 Caveat: It does contain strong language. 

Also, J. Ryan Stradal I hope you read this so that you know I tried to give you a riveting review on Amazon. And if you’d like to leave a comment, that would be great. 😁

ELEANOR OLIPHANT IS COMPLETELY FINE is Completely Captivating

An eccentric loner, thirty-year-old Eleanor Oliphant deals with childhood abuse and trauma by adhering to a strict regimen of work, sensible eating, Wednesday night communications with her mother, and weekend vodka binges. Eleanor insists she is "perfectly fine," but when a carefully constructed plan of “trying new things, exploring boundaries” ends badly,  the realization that her life might not be all that “fine” leaves her teetering on the brink of disaster. While such a plot might sound abysmally depressing, author Gail Honeyman combines hilarious and heart-wrenching moments with such skill as to ensure readers will be laughing out loud and blinking away tears—sometimes simultaneously.

On the rare occasions Eleanor is thrust into social situations, her strategy for handling them is to ask herself, "What would a ferret do?" or "How would a salamander respond to this situation?" With such a plan, it is no wonder Eleanor is considered a bit odd. But while her observations on human behavior might have the reader chuckling, they also elicit the question: Just exactly who is the strange one here? For example:

—“I was in a fast-food restaurant for the first time in my adult life, an enormous and garish place….It was mystifyingly, inexplicably busy. I wondered why humans would willingly queue at a counter to request processed food, then carry it to a table which was not even set, and then eat it from the paper? Afterward, despite having paid for it, the customers themselves are responsible for clearing away the detritus. Very strange.” 

—“The barman…had created strange, enormous holes in his earlobes by inserting little black plastic circles in order to push back the skin. For some reason, I was reminded of my shower curtain.”

—“…I’d worked out that social success is often built on pretending just a little. Popular people sometimes have to laugh at things they don’t find very funny, do things they don’t particularly want to, with people whose company they don’t particularly enjoy.” 
See what I mean?

Amid such remarks are others hauntingly tragic. Chapter 26 contains what I consider one of the saddest passages of literature ever written: “I took one of my hands in the other, tried to imagine what it would feel like if it was another person’s hand holding mine. There’ve been times when I felt that I might die of loneliness…I physically ache for human contact. I truly feel that I might tumble to the ground and pass away if someone doesn’t hold me, touch me….The scalp massage at the hairdresser, the flu jab I had last winter—the only time I experience touch is from people whom I’m paying, and they’re almost always wearing disposable gloves at the time.” 

And then there are the lines filled with hope: “All you hear these days is that everything’s going to hell in a handcart, how everybody’s a pedophile or a crook, and it’s not true. You forget that the world is full of ordinary decent people like yourselves, Good Samaritans who’ll stop and help a soul in need.” 

In the manner of Olive Kitteridge and A Man Called Ove, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine takes readers on a poignant journey, plunging them into the world of the lonely and depressed and marginalized but also introducing them to characters of incredible warmth and understanding. With sympathy and humor, it teaches us about the all-too-human tendency to judge before we know a person’s circumstances and about the tenacity of the human spirit to overcome adversity. Above all, it demonstrates the life-saving power that community brings. 

Two Things:

A Caution - Several characters in this story provide proof of Eleanor’s statement, “Obscenity is the distinguishing hallmark of a sadly limited vocabulary.” If crass language offends you, you might want to pass on this novel. However, I sincerely hope you don’t. If you look beyond the language, you’ll find beautiful messages of compassion and hope.    

A Confession - I didn’t read this book; I listened to it. Twice. It is narrated by Cathleen McCarron, whose delightful Scottish brogue and talent for interpreting characters’ voices greatly enhanced my enjoyment. Fans of audio books should find this format delightful. 

Orange Jello Fluff

I received an invitation from Maria Polson Veres to attend an open mic event where she would be reading selections from her newly released chapbook Church People. Being a big fan of Maria and her work, I accepted. 

As the title suggests, Church People is a collection of poems about individuals she has encountered on her faith journey as a Baptist, Catholic, Presbyterian, Episcopalian, and—I love this—“failed agnostic.” The few poems she read aloud enticed me to buy her book, and since then I’ve read through it at least three times and have insisted other people read it as well.

Having experienced a rather varied path on my own journey of faith and having made my own observations from both the front and back pews, I recognize many of the characters Maria features in her poems: the searching, the sure, the broken, the restored, the disillusioned, the inspired. However, I could never portray them with the heart-tugging poignancy or laugh-out-loud humor Maria does. 

Lines and images from her poems linger with me long after I’ve read them, surely a mark of meaningful literature. In “Breakdown,” the despair of a man who “all his life [has] fixed” things but is helpless to repair his “broken” wife haunts me. On the lighter side, in “Billie Sue Gets Her Way,” the “lurching, dive-bombing” notes of bagpipes screeching out “Amazing Grace” give Billie Sue the final send-off she’d hoped for. 

There it was, right inside the door emitting
an orange, ethereal glow.

As proof of the persistence of Church People, I offer this incident. On one of my tri-weekly drives to Walmart, the image of orange Jello fluff (from “Pot Faith”)  popped into my mind, and I burst out laughing. Not grinning or chuckling, mind you. Laughing. At that point I figured any literary piece that could invade my thoughts at random and elicit such a strong reaction needed to be shared. I toyed with the possibility of posting about Maria’s book on my humble blog but had misgivings. Worrying about whether I could do her work justice, I walked into Walmart. 

What happened next is the stuff of miracles. After I smiled at the greeter and stepped into the deli section,  my eyes were instantly drawn to a kind of orange, flourescent glow. And right there on the middle shelf was ... wait for it ... Orange, Jello. Fluff. With the millions of products Walmart offers, what are the odds that item would be the first one I saw? No doubt, many of Maria’s “church people” would’ve considered it a sign. 

I know I did.

Kitchens of the Great Midwest -- A Book to Devour? Savor?

It has been a while since I blogged about the Circle of Friends book club, but I’m glad to report we’re still going strong. For a change of pace, we met yesterday for a luncheon rather than our regular dinner. We enjoyed delightful egg casseroles supplied by hostess, Carol, and an array of colorful and healthy salads. To offset all that healthfulness, desserts included lemon cookies, crepes with lingonberry jam, and Pat Prager’s award-winning peanut butter bars.

No, this isn't Pat. This is Cheryl who
whipped up a batch of Pat's peanut butter bars
to share with the Friends. Cheryl says she has
to admit they're tasty (even if she did make them
herself).

This pan attests that the Friends agree with
Cheryl.

 



Thank you Shelly for nominating
this book for our club!

Now if you’re thinking Pat Prager is a member of our club and wondering exactly what awards her peanut butter bars have won, you obviously haven’t read the Friends’ selection for this month—Kitchens of the GreatMidwest by J. Ryan Stradal. And you should read it.

It’s hard to describe this book, but if you think Prairie Home Companion meets Fargo with a few recipes thrown in, you might be getting close to the idea.

Or maybe this will help.

Take one obsessive-compulsive female jock; one love-struck teenage boy; one spoiled, selfish, ego-centric woman; one traumatized, twenty-something alcoholic; one lonely, middle-aged woman whose identity is wrapped up in her cooking. Sprinkle generously with a spicy blend of Lutheran church ladies, pretentious foodies, middle-school bullies, and all manner of misfits, mayhem, and music references. Gently fold in one big and big-hearted female chef with a near perfect palate. Mix together in an Olive-Kitteridge-type plot, and serve with a generous dollop of satire and spot-on language.

Follow this recipe carefully, and—voila!—you have a delicious and fitting read for a group of ladies who love their food almost—almost—as much as their books.

Elizabeth brought some yummy succotash, also a
dish of significance in this book. Sadly (or not),
 there was no lutefisk to be had. Cheryl tried to obtain
some via the internet, but it seems no one is willing
 to ship this Scandinavian delicacy in the summer months.
 Probably a good idea.
 

 A couple of reviews to prove that others enjoyed this book as much as the Friends did:

"An impossible-to-put-down, one-of-a-kind novel. I have never read a book quite like this. This stunning debut announces J. Ryan Stradal as a first-rate voice in American fiction."
                                                   --Rob Roberge, author of The Cost of Living

"A Great American Novel in the fullest sense of the term. Everything you want a book to be."
                   --Ben Loory, author of Stories for Nighttime and Some for the Day

 

Reading About Writing

            Just because I’m waaay behind on my self-inflicted goal of creating a post at least every two weeks, that doesn’t mean I’ve been totally neglecting my writerly duties. Sometimes writing pursuits include activities other than putting pen to pad—or fingers to keyboard. Sometimes the best thing a writer can do to improve her craft and jumpstart her creative juices is read. And more specifically, read about writing.  

The Book Nest - Not Your Ordinary Bookstore

            About a year ago, I picked up a used copy of Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott at my niece’s little book nook. I’d heard of Lamott for years but never got around to reading her. Since I qualified for the good relative discount at The Book Nest, I grabbed the copy with a what-the-heck attitude. If I didn’t like it, at least I wasn’t out a wad of money.

            As it turned out, I got a lot for my $4.95 investment. (And no tax! Oregon has no sales tax!) Let me say up front, I don’t see eye to eye with all of Lamott’s religious and political views. But I found Traveling Mercies full of funny, witty, honest, and passionate observations on her life and her writing journey. I enjoyed the book so much that when I saw her book Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life at another used bookstore (you’re learning where I do a lot of hanging out), I snapped it up. Once again, it was a shrewd purchase.

            What I like about Bird by Bird is the “instructions” on writing don’t really seem like instructions at all. They aren’t technical “to do’s,” promising a New York Times bestseller. But while her advice isn’t a paint-by-numbers guide to constructing plot or developing scenes, it is  tremendously helpful. She gives practical guidance on generating content, overcoming writer’s block, and finding one’s voice. There’s even a chapter on dealing with professional jealousy (not that I or anyone I know ever deals with that).

            My favorite take-away from this book, though, is the author’s thoughts on publication. If you read this book with dreams of discovering the sure road to Big Five publication, those dreams are most likely going to be dashed. Or at least broken and bruised a bit. In fact, Lamott cautions you—very nicely and with lol humor—you’ll be lucky to receive anything other than a form rejection from an agent. But once you’ve massaged your injured hopes and resisted the urge to shred your three-hundred-page manuscript, you’ll find inspiration in her words. And you’ll discover the real reason to write.  

               

 

Circle of Friends: A Land More Kind than Home

            A couple of times a year, the Friends take a much deserved break and meet at a restaurant rather than cook. So while I don’t have a mouth-watering recipe to tempt you this month, I do have a delicious book to whet your literary appetite: A Land More Kind Than Home by Wiley Cash.

            I was a little anxious about how the Friends would receive this book—first, because I was the one who nominated it, and second, because it contains disturbing content. But when I read it last fall—at the recommendation of my friend Martha Bryant—I found it...let’s say somewhere between engaging and enthralling, leaning heavily toward enthralling. In his debut novel, Cash authentically captures the essence of the South without making all the characters appear to have been inbred (although, the reader may have suspicions about a few), and through the voices of three separate narrators, he tells a haunting and compelling story.  

            Be warned, this story is not for the squeamish. There are scenes of brutality and blood. And, because the plot revolves around the activities of a “charismatic,” snake-handling preacher, there are some beyond creepy scenes. For these reasons, a couple of Friends were not fans of the work. But most found it intriguing and thought-provoking. And it generated interesting discussion, something I consider a hallmark of a good book.

            Among the novel’s strengths:

1)  A clear, well-defined villain. One of the tenets of literature is that in order to be believable, characters should be neither all good nor all bad. I don’t necessarily buy into that theory. I found Carson Chambliss, the preacher in this story, to be evil incarnate and still very convincing.

2) A balanced approach in dealing with religion/Christianity. When I started reading it, my immediate reaction to A Land More Kind Than Home was “Here we go...another story about stereotypical southerners, who cling to their guns [or in this case, snakes] and their religion.” But I didn’t have to read long, before I realized Cash wasn’t following this pattern. He balances the evil of his preacher with the goodness and sacrificial love of Addie Lyle, who has spent her life helping people and trying to save the children of Chambliss’s church from his controlling, deadly grip.

3) Redemption and hope. To be worthy of my reading time, a story must offer these two elements. I don’t insist on a rosy ending—and believe me, this novel doesn’t have one—but I do want to finish a book with expectations that people can survive and persevere under trying circumstances, that people can experience a positive change of heart, and that ultimately good can triumph over evil. A Land More Kind Than Home fulfills these expectations.

4) Literary merit. In the highly unlikely event Cash should ever read this post, I hope he doesn’t say, “Huh? Where’d she come up with that?” And maybe it’s too much of my inner English teacher coming out, but I found the archetypes—among them, Chambliss, the serpent who beguiles and destroys; Christopher, the innocent, whose death ultimately saves others—skillfully woven into a modern tale of good versus evil. Along with those are mesmerizing imagery and engrossing characters.

            If there is a negative to this book, it is the pacing. At times, the story seems to drag with unnecessary details, especially when nine-year-old Jess narrates. Then again, those details are authentic to the perspective of a young boy and perhaps necessary. And the story’s strengths all but cancel out this minor flaw.    

            So, I guess you can tell I liked this book. Really liked it. I look forward to more work from this gifted southern writer. Your thoughts?

Not Your Ordinary Christmas Tale



The Christmas Pageant:
A tradition that never grows old.

            This morning, near the end of our church’s Advent Celebration service, children paraded down the aisle, dressed in the familiar attire of shepherds, wise men, and angels. The pint-sized actors gathered around a manger, where “Mary” gently tended the baby Jesus and “Joseph” helped her keep watch over him.

            Watching that timeless scene unfold, I was reminded of my very favorite Christmas story, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson. First published in 1972, the story probably wouldn’t clear all of today's “politically-correct” hurdles as there is something in it to offend just about everyone at least once.  There are church gossips and busybodies, there are schoolyard name-calling and bullying. A good case could be made that it contains child abuse and even—heaven forbid!—cruelty toward a cat.  

You can see from my copy
of this book it is well read.

            But, for me, this is the quintessential Christmas story (besides, of course, the original one). No matter how many times I read this little book or see the play, I laugh out loud at the antics of the  incorrigible Herdmans, a ragtag collection of siblings who terrorize an entire town and threaten to hijack the annual Christmas pageant. But always by the end of the story, I’m in tears. When I read about Imogene Herdman crying as she performs her role as Mary, I think that perhaps no other “actress” has ever taken the assignment so much to heart. And when Gladys Herdman “with her skinny legs and dirty sneakers sticking out from under her robe” yells “Hey! Unto you a child is born,” she embodies the excitement that must have filled the first heralds of that message.

            Yes, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever isn’t your typical, reverent Christmas story. But I think it’s one of the best because it deals with an imperfect world and the  imperfect people who inhabit it. Ultimately, it is the story of transformation and redemption. And, after all, isn’t that what Christmas is about?

            Have a favorite Christmas story you’d like to recommend?

 

Circle of Friends: The Light Between Oceans

            Last week I had a lot to blab blog about so I limited my information about book club to  theme and decorations. This week I’m going to follow my own advice about partying, only I’m applying it to blogging. This is my “portmanteau” post, built on the one that precedes it.

            The book choice for this month’s Circle of Friends meeting was The Light BetweenOceans, M. L. Stedman’s debut novel. It might be understatement to say I loved this book, and the Friends were unanimous in their admiration of it.  

            I know just enough about Greek tragedy to recognize certain elements of it in modern literature. In tragedy, a decision is made in a moment of human weakness—a decision which will have wide-spread, far-reaching, and devastating consequences. Early in this story, protagonist Tom Sherbourne makes such a decision, and at that point, I almost stopped reading, sure that the ending would be depressing. But, with a sense of dread, I persevered. Passages of lyrical beauty made the expected dismal ending worth the read. Among those passages are ones where Stedman so knowingly describes a young couple’s intimacy and connection with their baby; passages which depict the natural majesty of Janus Rock; passages which contain eternal truths such as “You only have to forgive once. To resent, you have to do it all day, every day.” And the sentiments are delivered through exquisite writing: “The rain is falling more heavily, and in the distance, thunder grumbles at being left behind by the lightning.” 

            (A small spoiler alert, here.) To my great relief, the ending didn’t follow the traditional pattern of a tragedy. Not a doom-and-gloom ending, but a satisfying and hopeful one. And that’s my favorite kind.

            It’s a time-worn—but nevertheless true—adage: A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Had I let my knowledge of tragedy discourage me from finishing this story, I would have missed out on a sparkling gem of a book.   

            Now in an abrupt change of gears, let’s get to food. The Friends outdid themselves this time. One dish that got RAVE reviews was Paula’s Reuben dip. If you have a tailgate or football viewing party—or any kind of party—in your future, this is the perfect dish!

 

Reuben's Hot Pot

12 oz. cream cheese

1/2 cup milk

2 cups shredded Swiss cheese (1/2 #)

1 cup sour cream

15 oz. pkg. sliced corned beef (or 1# from deli)

1 cup sauerkraut, drained

 

Soften cream cheese briefly in microwave. Slowly stir in milk, mixing until well blended. Tear corned beef into small pieces. Combine all ingredients in a 2 quart casserole and bake 1 hour at 350.

Serve in a casserole or chafing dish with party rye/rye bagel chips, or Fritos, or celery sticks. OR carve out a round rye bread to put dip into and use the rye bread cubes/pieces for dipping (not too small of course).

 

 

Circle of Friends: The Lost Wife Offers Inspiration in Midst of Tragedy

 

           A lot was special about the Friends’ meeting this past week. First, we had almost record attendance, as only two of our active members were absent. Second, we didn’t have to cook! Well, one of us did. Host Carol prepared the entire meal for us, featuring her wonderful chicken divan, which I think should be called chicken divine. She said it was her way of saying “thank you” for the support she received last fall in the loss of her husband. Third, we met on Tuesday rather than Monday night, since danger and uncertainty churned across much of Oklahoma on Monday. Relief and thankfulness prevailed at this meeting, and there was a special joy in realizing we were all alive and able to gather. But, in true Friends’ spirit, there were also sadness and sympathy for our neighbors in Moore—fellow Okies who were picking through the ruins of demolished homes and nursing the raw emotional wounds of losing precious loved ones. For Faye, one of our members, the tragedy touched very close to home. Her son and his wife lost their house and belongings.

            Our reading selection for this month was The Lost Wife by Alyson Richman. As with most

historical fiction, the story is based on an incredible yet true scenario. After being separated before World War II, a husband and wife reunite after sixty years and thousands of miles of separation. Richman takes that seed of reality and adds many more facts—some horrifying, some intriguing—about the Holocaust. She takes the reader inside the Jewish ghetto at Terezin with its inhuman conditions. But she also shows the intrepid hearts and souls of some of its occupants, particularly those who chose to fight the Nazis the only way they knew how—with their art. In juxtaposing the worst and best of humanity, she weaves a tale that is at once heartbreaking and uplifting.

            I felt this novel was particularly appropriate for the Friends this month. If ever people need to be reminded of the strength and resiliency of the human spirit, it is in times of heartache and disaster. The Lost Wife answers the call. Her female protagonist Lenka, offers valuable insight for surviving tragedy: “...not to look back, but to focus on each new day.” As evidenced by the photos below, Oklahomans excel at that.

Devastation, Moore, Oklahoma May 23, 2013

Focusing on a new day...worn by woman helping her sister
and brother-in-law salvage their belongings

Rising from the rubble

                      

A Gem of a Book: The End of Your Life Book Club

            Amazon.com sends me notices almost daily about the latest literature. If I took them up on every recommendation, my VISA bill would rival the national debt, and my kindle would probably crash. But occasionally I succumb to their ingenious marketing scheme. When a recent email suggested I might like The End of Your Life Book Club by Will Schwalbe, I decided to check it out. I’m glad I did.  

            I read the summary on the Amazon web site. In spite of the title and the fact that this is a memoir about the author’s mother and her battle with pancreatic cancer, the story appeared to be inspiring rather than depressing. Then I “test drove” the book by reading the first few pages. I liked Schwalbe’s style. He managed to make waiting with his mother in the cancer center sound, if not pleasant, at least tolerable. But what hooked me was he and his mother decided to start their own private book club and discuss the books while she received her chemo treatments. I like reading about books almost as much as I like reading them. In this book, it appeared that I could do both, so I downloaded it. I’m glad I did.  

            A few more pages into the story, I was regretting my decision. I discovered that Schwalbe and I hold totally opposite religious and political views. I was convinced I’d find nothing on which we’d agree, including the books we liked. But I’d already paid my thirteen dollars, so I felt obligated to keep reading. I’m glad I did.  

            As I continued, I learned that Mary Anne, Schwalbe’s mother, and I did have something in common—our Christian faith. I learned so much from and about this remarkable humanitarian woman. The book was full of her uplifting insights and observations on living and dying...and books. As I read further, I found myself liking Schwalbe himself. While I didn't agree with his ideologies, I came to respect him as a gifted writer and admire him as a loving and devoted son. He wrote a beautiful tribute to his mother. And surprise, surprise, I found he and I actually liked some of the same books. In fact, in the Appendix he lists all the titles mentioned in this memoir. I plan to investigate many of them.  

            Folks who are facing life-threatening illnesses or have loved ones or friends who are—and those surely include most of us—will be encouraged by this book. I highlighted many passages as I read, planning on sharing them. But when I finished, I found I had marked almost one third of the book, too much to share in a single post. So I highly recommend you read the book for yourself. You’ll be glad you did. 

 

                

Master Brooks's Bookses: Should I Share My Ice Cream?

            Sorry it has been so long since my last review, but lately life in our household has been hectic. And a little strange. First, my mommy and daddy started asking me if I would like to have a baby brother. I’m not sure what a baby brother is, but I try to be cooperative as often as possible, so in response to the question, I always say, “Okay.” Then some men came to our house and started tearing up the big, messy room upstairs. Now Daddy asks me if I want to sleep up there with Bennett. Huh? Who’s Bennett? And why would I want to sleep upstairs with him? Sounds kind of scary to me. My answer to that question is an unequivocal “No.”  Cooperation is fine in its place, but no need to get carried away. 

            The best thing that has happened over the past few weeks, though, is that I turned two.  Two!!! Can you believe it? And for my second birthday, Aunt Missy and Uncle Brandon gave me a terrific new book by Mo Willems entitled Should I Share My Ice Cream?  

Aunt Missy reading my new book to me.
It's a particularly gripping moment in the plot
when Gerald's ice cream is about to fall on
the ground!

     Of course, my immediate reaction to that question is “no way,” but remember I’m working on cooperation these days, so I decided to give the book a read-through and see what it had to say on the subject. I’m glad I did. Not only did I read it once but about twenty-one-hundred times just to be sure I got the message right. It seems that sharing is a good idea. Not only does it pay off in the event your own ice cream cone falls on the ground, but also sharing ice cream with a good friend can double the pleasure of the experience. In addition to the great story, I enjoyed the simple, comic-like illustrations of Gerald the elephant (who, by the way, wears glasses), his friend Piggie, and LOTS and LOTS of pastel -colored ice cream cones! 

            Yum! I’m making myself hungry. Think I’ll close this post and go have a snack. Maybe some ice cream.

I give Should I Share My Ice Cream 5 out of 5 goldfish.
(Another good idea for a snack!)