tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2976999318863612462024-03-12T20:57:41.123-06:002 Kids and Tired BooksBooks I've Read. Some I Recommend. Some I Don't. And Maybe a Puzzle or Two...Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.comBlogger2024125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-66814297210526907752024-01-16T06:00:00.001-07:002024-01-16T06:00:00.134-07:00Tress of the Emerald Sea...#BookReview<i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdlva-5EN6CKpwN2uJD2bUvn-LyLMSx4MSihbT9B8mgmn1Rw20YBD8SZ9RU1s6kDKxvV-35t-Nxn93CE113aXJqVwwObMDxtktS1yOjYnRHXSyYCrHQeJb6DWseBMMLgd3RygCwVdGsfra6vcxL6o2d9n-yrA3pOv_bKEBanKbIKfGw-z6oXWdjG98ERB/s1737/tress.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1737" data-original-width="1125" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdlva-5EN6CKpwN2uJD2bUvn-LyLMSx4MSihbT9B8mgmn1Rw20YBD8SZ9RU1s6kDKxvV-35t-Nxn93CE113aXJqVwwObMDxtktS1yOjYnRHXSyYCrHQeJb6DWseBMMLgd3RygCwVdGsfra6vcxL6o2d9n-yrA3pOv_bKEBanKbIKfGw-z6oXWdjG98ERB/w176-h273/tress.jpg" width="176" /></a></div>About the book:</i><div><i>#1 New York Times bestselling author Brandon Sanderson brings us deeper into the Cosmere universe with a rollicking, riveting tale that will appeal to fans of </i>The Princess Bride. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>The only life Tress has known on her island home in an emerald-green ocean has been a simple one, with the simple pleasures of collecting cups brought by sailors from faraway lands and listening to stories told by her friend Charlie. But when his father takes him on a voyage to find a bride and disaster strikes, Tress must stow away on a ship and seek the Sorceress of the deadly Midnight Sea. Amid the spore oceans where pirates abound, can Tress leave her simple life behind and make her own place sailing a sea where a single drop of water can mean instant death?</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Fantasy and YA are not my genres of choice. I so often struggle with understanding world building in unknown fantasy novels and I don't often relate to YA characters. </div><div><br /></div><div>But, The Boy loves Brandon Sanderson and suggested I read this book. So because he asked, I did.</div><div><br /></div><div>And it was delightful. I read it in a day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tress is a teenage girl living on a rock in the middle of the Emerald Sea. Life is difficult, but she has a good family and a best friend in Charlie, the Duke's son. People are not allowed to leave the island, but the Duke takes Charlie away, hoping to find him a bride. When the Duke returns without Charlie, having given him up to the Sorceress in the Midnight Sea, Tress decides to find him herself.</div><div><br /></div><div>What follows is a charming and whimsical story about adventure.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was as much a story about found family and personal growth. Tress goes through some challenges in her quest to find Charlie. She finds herself in the company of pirates who at first would love to kill her, but soon come to appreciate her. She learns and grows and gains confidence as she figures out not only how to find Charlie, but her own path along the way.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>“If you ask these heroes why they risked their lives, don't do it on a stand in front of a crowd while you give them their medal. Because the truth is, they likely didn't do it for their country, or even for the ideals. Consistently, across cultures, eras, and ideologies, war heroes report the same simple motivation. They did it for their friends.”</i></div><div><br /></div><div><div>The world building was vivid and descriptive. The richly colored oceans: Emerald, Sapphire, Crimson, Midnight. The oddly charming pirates: among them, Fort, Salay and Ulaam. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tress was so clever and resourceful. The language was lyrical and Hoid, the narrator, snarky enough to make me laugh out loud at times:</div></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>“Men often described the girl as having hair the color of wheat. Others called it the color of caramel, or occasionally the color of honey. The girl wondered why men so often used food to describe women’s features. There was a hunger to such men that was best avoided.”</i></div><div><br /></div><div>I borrowed The Boy's copy, but I want to get my own so I can mark it. There was so much wisdom and many passages that were thought-provoking.</div><div><br /></div><div>One of my favorite passages is about memory:</div><div><br /></div><div><i>“I love memories. They are our ballads, our personal foundation myths. But I must acknowledge that memory can be cruel if left unchallenged. Memory is often our only connection to who we used to be. Memories are fossils, the bones left by dead versions of ourselves. More potently, our minds are a hungry audience, craving only the peaks and valleys of experience. The bland erodes, leaving behind the distinctive bits to be remembered again and again. Painful or passionate, surreal or sublime, we cherish those little rocks of peak experience, polishing them with the ever-smoothing touch of recycled proxy living. In so doing— like pagans praying to a sculpted mud figure— we make of our memories the gods which judge our current lives. </i><i>I love this. Memory may not be the heart of what makes us human, but it’s at least a vital organ. Nevertheless, we must take care not to let the bliss of the present fade when compared to supposedly better days. We’re happy, sure, but were we more happy then? If we let it, memory can make shadows of the now, as nothing can match the buttressed legends of our past… Do not let memory chase you. Take the advice of one who has dissected the beast, then rebuilt it with a more fearsome face— which I then used to charm a few extra coins out of an inebriated audience. Enjoy memories, yes, but don’t be a slave to who you wish you once had been. Those memories aren’t alive. You are.”</i></div><div><br /></div><div>Apparently while it can stand alone, there are many easter eggs that tie into other Sanderson novels. I didn't get any of those and didn't need to. The story is amazing on its own.</div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Read 1/24</div><div><br /></div><div>* * * * *</div><div>5/5 Stars</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-75744541177984660992024-01-12T06:00:00.001-07:002024-01-15T12:54:44.394-07:002023 Wrap-Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0BqHtB1loYNfSpnCAJRlbIfeejVFqlXpzFPcEAvfCqGwHMqJLoNxk_IN7Xf0_MAwh9cbsqpJwlSjayLPLhEVJY8PmKw1kO0mnoRyFGIFG2ql2Anv3fwuyXcZZ2kV7aRIwVn7OhEpSwtsd1tPGIKAtNoSoySC8b9cF6H6AjfDMWRthycV0cmAzHNjqF_bv/s1134/2023%20Challenge.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="806" height="854" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0BqHtB1loYNfSpnCAJRlbIfeejVFqlXpzFPcEAvfCqGwHMqJLoNxk_IN7Xf0_MAwh9cbsqpJwlSjayLPLhEVJY8PmKw1kO0mnoRyFGIFG2ql2Anv3fwuyXcZZ2kV7aRIwVn7OhEpSwtsd1tPGIKAtNoSoySC8b9cF6H6AjfDMWRthycV0cmAzHNjqF_bv/w607-h854/2023%20Challenge.png" width="607" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>I did the Goodreads Challenge last year and decided to read 24 books. I figured that was two a month. The Boy did it as well. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was nice to have a goal to get back into regular reading. I read 4 books in 2022 and 0 in 2021. </div><div><br /></div><div>I did count rereads: <i><a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2007/10/winter-solstice.html">Winter Solstice</a>, <a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2020/09/the-ballad-of-songbirds-and.html">The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes</a> </i>(the film is fantastic)<i>,</i> and <i><a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2016/01/all-light-we-cannot-seereview.html">All the Light We Cannot See</a> </i>(the series on Netflix is absolutely stunning). As well as the children's books I reviewed: <i><a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/05/pigs-cant-look-upbookreview.html">Pigs Can't Look Up</a>, <a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/05/the-sparkly-bunbookreview.html">The Sparkly Bun</a>, <a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/11/diwali-in-my-new-homebookreview.html">Diwali in My New Home</a>,</i> and <i>Under the Barnyard Light</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Favorites included: </div><div><br /></div><div><i><a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/07/lessons-in-chemistrybookreview.html">Lessons in Chemistry</a></i>, and the Apple TV adaptation is fantastic.</div><div><i><a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/11/the-book-woman-of-troublesome.html">The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek</a></i> and <i><a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-book-womans-daughterbookreview.html">The Book Woman's Daughter</a></i>.</div><div><i><a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/11/being-henry-fonzand-beyondbookreview.html">Being Henry</a></i>.</div><div><i><a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/08/project-hail-marybookreview.html">Project Hail Mary</a></i></div><div><br /></div><div>Disappointments included:</div><div><i>Back to the Prairie</i> and <i><a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/03/one-day-in-decemberbookreview.html">One Day in December</a></i>.</div><div><br /></div><div>This year, I've set the same goal of 24 books and I want to read them from my TBR. I'll still purchase books, because, hello, it's me. But, I want to make a dent in the stack next to my bed!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-21860373769353511072024-01-09T06:00:00.001-07:002024-01-09T06:00:00.137-07:00Puzzles...Hygge: Cozy Fireplace<div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2t6t9aZW6YRFxG2wSIwI9WKLiG5_hqk0ExUcr7o5aJrVvEedm4CDp3d1V7cctP4vrtsHu1ZCH9v46YaniXakiYb0zLd1JMTxJNogsKF4VYAtXcRiFho-E3dh1ox0escfcu7IF14O7eK6AhaKlOvw-LGK99iZyoSDvmEY8LpfbY1B3QB8TxMjbwV-qQ/s1175/IMG_20230117_162645_815.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1175" data-original-width="940" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2t6t9aZW6YRFxG2wSIwI9WKLiG5_hqk0ExUcr7o5aJrVvEedm4CDp3d1V7cctP4vrtsHu1ZCH9v46YaniXakiYb0zLd1JMTxJNogsKF4VYAtXcRiFho-E3dh1ox0escfcu7IF14O7eK6AhaKlOvw-LGK99iZyoSDvmEY8LpfbY1B3QB8TxMjbwV-qQ/w362-h452/IMG_20230117_162645_815.jpg" width="362" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>This was a pleasant puzzle to assemble. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdIdtu75sQ_A_kVkwV-AQ6V74e0fprGZ9-3sx5c7hcd_fsfqCX5qFRvwJeU_6bj1gkSv1JmEIbliH4an1mKrbZ3faG6pvz4CDyz5psqj_ayDNmkSNeGwzEQHPGsHdtVCtgabrrvZgoZGVC5pffLeolgWdRsH7kMdQHDnPRbqK_Hz7fqhTfVRoV5-kJQ/s849/IMG_20230117_162645_951.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="849" data-original-width="679" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdIdtu75sQ_A_kVkwV-AQ6V74e0fprGZ9-3sx5c7hcd_fsfqCX5qFRvwJeU_6bj1gkSv1JmEIbliH4an1mKrbZ3faG6pvz4CDyz5psqj_ayDNmkSNeGwzEQHPGsHdtVCtgabrrvZgoZGVC5pffLeolgWdRsH7kMdQHDnPRbqK_Hz7fqhTfVRoV5-kJQ/w180-h225/IMG_20230117_162645_951.jpg" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8UphMdcKqxtb8BK0Ck6Gm3fXxBxdRFeCOz1mHLy9P1z3Ci_YpQ6HMG7RQ0VWWV3V6Qj8iy69ei1qBv639g4X-JgYJN2E3nulpn3J5yVEwbgv2Qrtn9mVKpS8pDVHfT_MzT_NG5VQluwV3oeTkTGA9isb9Uce8z1rFAY4bZ3p0xXitW_oUb9jCQ38eXw/s977/IMG_20230117_162645_993.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="977" data-original-width="782" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8UphMdcKqxtb8BK0Ck6Gm3fXxBxdRFeCOz1mHLy9P1z3Ci_YpQ6HMG7RQ0VWWV3V6Qj8iy69ei1qBv639g4X-JgYJN2E3nulpn3J5yVEwbgv2Qrtn9mVKpS8pDVHfT_MzT_NG5VQluwV3oeTkTGA9isb9Uce8z1rFAY4bZ3p0xXitW_oUb9jCQ38eXw/w182-h227/IMG_20230117_162645_993.jpg" width="182" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div><div>The picture is lovely. It's my ideal setting! </div></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggDTxlolN1QijVa8f0MT-2ojkM9k249PpciDnAZEyD_7mFHqpF0TSQhz1i305hdaKh9ipeSKyKV4j1IKAjMJpiCFB57-HlZiNADXyylUBJuTGhq9peHhiRcQzCf1JW1lfRHVFPLuBIYuFHL6AarTC2sqS6y-YYSzM4AJBcghRzF8JBWM9vbjKTzCvjMQ/s1009/IMG_20230117_162646_238.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1009" data-original-width="806" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggDTxlolN1QijVa8f0MT-2ojkM9k249PpciDnAZEyD_7mFHqpF0TSQhz1i305hdaKh9ipeSKyKV4j1IKAjMJpiCFB57-HlZiNADXyylUBJuTGhq9peHhiRcQzCf1JW1lfRHVFPLuBIYuFHL6AarTC2sqS6y-YYSzM4AJBcghRzF8JBWM9vbjKTzCvjMQ/w184-h230/IMG_20230117_162646_238.jpg" width="184" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijH-6gLTwmxtX2lgBoZIi_khhjy7lHYaBH-yXW8EgBdr-014Pk8gNE5heXOXN8rC4ocvq4pvjYKJ_79bktMtDhNB2wqMV3_jV_QwejQjlK6g0B1h19Aq8eC7PvTYZrw_KhREWo62DDuN2ktflTRXe6d5w1W_jyUc5_95O7znDnpew1QKBDC0IiIvw4Qg/s1801/IMG_20230117_162646_318.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1801" data-original-width="1440" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijH-6gLTwmxtX2lgBoZIi_khhjy7lHYaBH-yXW8EgBdr-014Pk8gNE5heXOXN8rC4ocvq4pvjYKJ_79bktMtDhNB2wqMV3_jV_QwejQjlK6g0B1h19Aq8eC7PvTYZrw_KhREWo62DDuN2ktflTRXe6d5w1W_jyUc5_95O7znDnpew1QKBDC0IiIvw4Qg/w186-h232/IMG_20230117_162646_318.jpg" width="186" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>And it comes with a candle. I wasn't aware of that. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV4MlSo3OqdVlFRn7xH4WN-ZEgPW0Qnxc2eANdXo3um70g1s9xirw29NSgnr_Sy5RHdGRKQ11jd5q2Q4CD4gkJmMB_rmHxYJb2uRN4fsavYnV-cUaBDGRzmYUZyH52xSqE0BKmVtpOPB2OOzuwiy6O424IJ6u0ZgWAKWDJ-tej0jnza2De_7B4MHx1Kg/s1189/IMG_20230117_162646_402.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1189" data-original-width="983" height="437" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV4MlSo3OqdVlFRn7xH4WN-ZEgPW0Qnxc2eANdXo3um70g1s9xirw29NSgnr_Sy5RHdGRKQ11jd5q2Q4CD4gkJmMB_rmHxYJb2uRN4fsavYnV-cUaBDGRzmYUZyH52xSqE0BKmVtpOPB2OOzuwiy6O424IJ6u0ZgWAKWDJ-tej0jnza2De_7B4MHx1Kg/w362-h437/IMG_20230117_162646_402.jpg" width="362" /></a></div><br /></div><div>Hygge: Cozy Fireplace</div><div>500 pieces</div><div>kipuzzles</div><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-51880055923762551172023-12-06T06:00:00.001-07:002023-12-06T06:00:00.159-07:00Whimsy Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie78VtxaM4MFhRI8rvu8yJ132jd-YGSmMNWeOBuaNMhD6U7Bno_Xdl-DfmvU6wXgEe_d6DvlRrMohzt-9k3gcOG1EZ66b5JmhTpjzhUHrltjGEBflbRt_ObCW4L6l3WDPfG9gWpcPQwNuXJZ9hqPp9wDo_SskCQu7pcakqYu7BHeGOXaYM9ePv3ZYcsw/s330/66887ff91e42a89b574f27a4a9b75258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="330" data-original-width="300" height="405" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie78VtxaM4MFhRI8rvu8yJ132jd-YGSmMNWeOBuaNMhD6U7Bno_Xdl-DfmvU6wXgEe_d6DvlRrMohzt-9k3gcOG1EZ66b5JmhTpjzhUHrltjGEBflbRt_ObCW4L6l3WDPfG9gWpcPQwNuXJZ9hqPp9wDo_SskCQu7pcakqYu7BHeGOXaYM9ePv3ZYcsw/w368-h405/66887ff91e42a89b574f27a4a9b75258.jpg" width="368" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/332773859940067750/"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Source</span></i></a>.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-78525234128501151852023-12-05T06:00:00.030-07:002023-12-05T06:00:00.139-07:00Puzzles...Gift Basket<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsboTwJP65rOvyQWpGz1sIRbSsHbvJ5LQBdGBf86ub9O3ixs7tHkmhJwqf5Gub8X1mbXNOcCysQiwMV2k1CXh9jAUJs5hA-DZmEdGwO1qfBlhsjwJ5BsQq9U7gWHafFMi2yMtqH0NEue84kKOSG5jBr66k1-Mc0X7ubkYqDskhD1w3D8L54E3jpHI6vw/s1117/IMG_20221216_195622_875.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1117" data-original-width="893" height="433" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsboTwJP65rOvyQWpGz1sIRbSsHbvJ5LQBdGBf86ub9O3ixs7tHkmhJwqf5Gub8X1mbXNOcCysQiwMV2k1CXh9jAUJs5hA-DZmEdGwO1qfBlhsjwJ5BsQq9U7gWHafFMi2yMtqH0NEue84kKOSG5jBr66k1-Mc0X7ubkYqDskhD1w3D8L54E3jpHI6vw/w346-h433/IMG_20221216_195622_875.jpg" width="346" /></a></div><br /></div><div>Christmas puppies. That is all.</div><div><br /></div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQuQ3QcQPBe4KjvufL79FLmefuXdoh-s1gBMZf4570egO2IzILz_xYs0FIPXPWkPQMUX5znRM5J8GKBfuYyFpPZKoSxPodas6n6RMhgc6umzGTwELkI0TfMjkORd_bZVJ7VlfvJDZJcedNk1wN0_Mf6E-oZGWL-WRJq6as-R292wUSiHoqDE42rqBcw/s989/IMG_20221216_195623_021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="989" data-original-width="792" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQuQ3QcQPBe4KjvufL79FLmefuXdoh-s1gBMZf4570egO2IzILz_xYs0FIPXPWkPQMUX5znRM5J8GKBfuYyFpPZKoSxPodas6n6RMhgc6umzGTwELkI0TfMjkORd_bZVJ7VlfvJDZJcedNk1wN0_Mf6E-oZGWL-WRJq6as-R292wUSiHoqDE42rqBcw/w224-h280/IMG_20221216_195623_021.jpg" width="224" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53-JEvQIzkjo1KFvM-cu5HyiDVoBeDCRGQKYt0YT2-icuzzDLd3FTRaIun0b-gjJtdcL-pfOkEfBoE0WXBx8e2ZgE7UR7wP58YNKvk2kG-xnFw_s4kVOrRJ30jPLG_SAIZQUxaJCyPNk7tf-r1yE3JpJSxP2CCe_kUR_K706ww_-aadWQ6ItTU_zp_Q/s989/IMG_20221216_195623_101.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="989" data-original-width="792" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53-JEvQIzkjo1KFvM-cu5HyiDVoBeDCRGQKYt0YT2-icuzzDLd3FTRaIun0b-gjJtdcL-pfOkEfBoE0WXBx8e2ZgE7UR7wP58YNKvk2kG-xnFw_s4kVOrRJ30jPLG_SAIZQUxaJCyPNk7tf-r1yE3JpJSxP2CCe_kUR_K706ww_-aadWQ6ItTU_zp_Q/w225-h281/IMG_20221216_195623_101.jpg" width="225" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>This was more challenging than I anticipated. But oh so cute. </div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTqH_1hNLHcwzDyxHRP7jGH6F_7xZXFjE2p561_9VajqGtLjfcQ4Q3deSVVkaoxwIQdLs92IG3NVUxS-jjCEMb3hMA2gqcxmts46trY1PVuB44NKleJ4iy9myAhjsDYNIoQwKyGrnWVotZ-ahaR8_m2A1nXUgA9wNaq_zQ_Qnz8kdEtWHysi28887gw/s950/IMG_20221216_195623_143.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="950" data-original-width="938" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTqH_1hNLHcwzDyxHRP7jGH6F_7xZXFjE2p561_9VajqGtLjfcQ4Q3deSVVkaoxwIQdLs92IG3NVUxS-jjCEMb3hMA2gqcxmts46trY1PVuB44NKleJ4iy9myAhjsDYNIoQwKyGrnWVotZ-ahaR8_m2A1nXUgA9wNaq_zQ_Qnz8kdEtWHysi28887gw/w381-h386/IMG_20221216_195623_143.jpg" width="381" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><div><div>Gift Basket</div><div>550 pieces</div><div>SunsOut</div></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-73861150192736084422023-12-04T06:00:00.103-07:002023-12-04T08:28:34.885-07:00The Book Woman's Daughter...#BookReview<div><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9kASpC2JD28CWIF4G7Ed4WbVtfG4Z7YU4_7l9-GQbbt-xlq3CMof56TJqfyDuUWPIayYxVGiTInrJt0UjxPuGJ6Gqd-2sfE9onh2I71ZK6G5JleMGgsPCS6HeFVgQQDbx_6-SIUZ98z0XrklrCnS-1MpGJbNSCeTyf0Xe1YojhwElhx8grDgwZxFSVUJ/s750/58803339.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9kASpC2JD28CWIF4G7Ed4WbVtfG4Z7YU4_7l9-GQbbt-xlq3CMof56TJqfyDuUWPIayYxVGiTInrJt0UjxPuGJ6Gqd-2sfE9onh2I71ZK6G5JleMGgsPCS6HeFVgQQDbx_6-SIUZ98z0XrklrCnS-1MpGJbNSCeTyf0Xe1YojhwElhx8grDgwZxFSVUJ/s320/58803339.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>About the book:</i></div><div><i>Bestselling historical fiction author Kim Michele Richardson is back with the perfect book club read following Honey Mary Angeline Lovett, the daughter of the beloved Troublesome book woman, who must fight for her own independence with the help of the women who guide her and the books that set her free. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>In the ruggedness of the beautiful Kentucky mountains, Honey Lovett has always known that the old ways can make a hard life harder. As the daughter of the famed blue-skinned, Troublesome Creek packhorse librarian, Honey and her family have been hiding from the law all her life. But when her mother and father are imprisoned, Honey realizes she must fight to stay free, or risk being sent away for good. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Picking up her mother’s old packhorse library route, Honey begins to deliver books to the remote hollers of Appalachia. Honey is looking to prove that she doesn’t need anyone telling her how to survive. But the route can be treacherous, and some folks aren’t as keen to let a woman pave her own way. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>If Honey wants to bring the freedom books provide to the families who need it most, she’s going to have to fight for her place, and along the way, learn that the extraordinary women who run the hills and hollers can make all the difference in the world.
</i></div><div><br /></div><div>Wow. Where to start. I read <i>The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek</i> in a day and loved it so much that I immediately picked up the sequel and pretty much read it in a day as well. So good.</div><div><br /></div><div>This story picks up ten or so years after the previous book ends. It could be read as a stand alone, but don't. Read the first one before you read this.</div><div><br /></div><div>Honey is Cussy Mary's daughter and the story starts with her parents being arrested for miscegenation. Her mother is Blue and her father is White and at the time, the law forbade their marriage. They'd hidden for years in another area of Kentucky, but Cussy Mary and Jackson are finally arrested. Honey is sent back to Troublesome to live with old Retta, who becomes her guardian, and she fights to become emancipated rather than sent to a work house. But the jealousy and prejudice of others intervenes.</div><div><br /></div><div>We see familiar faces return in this novel and welcome new ones in Pearl and Wrenna (and Tommie!) among others. And, as Honey returns to Troublesome, it becomes so apparent that Cussy Mary left a deep impression on the people there and most of them welcome Honey back with open arms.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>She becomes a librarian, just like her mother and rides her mother's former packhorse route with their old mule, Junia. And like Cussy Mary, Honey is kind and compassionate, and fights against injustice. </div><div><br /></div><div>And in rural, 1950s Appalachia, injustice is alive and well. </div><div><br /></div><div>The people are still dirt poor, and fear stokes anger. Domestic violence is rampant as is general abuse of women. Honey experiences this as she tries to help a new friend and the story does not sugar-coat the heartache that comes because of abusive men.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>But courage comes in many forms and thirst for knowledge and the power of books is immeasurable. Honey experiences frustration and fear, but also finds friendship and compassion as she hopes to be emancipated and be with her family again.</div><div><br /></div><div>This was a fantastic sequel and I do hope that there is one more book to wrap up the Lovett's story.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks to Netgalley for the opportunity to review this book. You can find my review for <i>The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek</i> <a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/11/the-book-woman-of-troublesome.html">here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>* * * *</div><div>4/5 Stars</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-39031001412648150632023-11-29T06:00:00.002-07:002023-12-04T08:29:29.733-07:00The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek...#BookReview<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji21HUg9VSnlcGCqMHFWsAAlRuOwcALmR71iwJuVcKRYZaurgT_XvOIHmuFnn0BxL42UM3QNeO34w6FPLA-S_2P1grApxuMkwP4L9Rvh4XNJ4EkleS4eK_ImCJtMrsuy0WtdNFXONgUqD3FS5oNaLDiLRukzYkRQcnfCGT97vuclaHqae93eHpzmAVgXxx/s750/40914165.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji21HUg9VSnlcGCqMHFWsAAlRuOwcALmR71iwJuVcKRYZaurgT_XvOIHmuFnn0BxL42UM3QNeO34w6FPLA-S_2P1grApxuMkwP4L9Rvh4XNJ4EkleS4eK_ImCJtMrsuy0WtdNFXONgUqD3FS5oNaLDiLRukzYkRQcnfCGT97vuclaHqae93eHpzmAVgXxx/s320/40914165.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><i>The hardscrabble folks of Troublesome Creek have to scrap for everything—everything except books, that is. Thanks to Roosevelt's Kentucky Pack Horse Library Project, Troublesome's got its very own traveling librarian, Cussy Mary Carter. </i><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Cussy's not only a book woman, however, she's also the last of her kind, her skin a shade of blue unlike most anyone else. Not everyone is keen on Cussy's family or the Library Project, and a Blue is often blamed for any whiff of trouble. If Cussy wants to bring the joy of books to the hill folks, she's going to have to confront prejudice as old as the Appalachias and suspicion as deep as the holler. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Inspired by the true blue-skinned people of Kentucky and the brave and dedicated Kentucky Pack Horse library service of the 1930s, </i>The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek <i>is a story of raw courage, fierce strength, and one woman's belief that books can carry us anywhere — even back home.</i><div><br /></div><div>The people of rural 1930s Kentucky are the poorest of the poor, but crave knowledge. They have no means of transportation out of their little communities and the Pack Horse Library Project brings them books and news of the world. The women librarians who brought this treasure were called Book Women.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cussy Mary Carter is a woman who loves books and reading and knowledge. She loves her library route and the joy of bringing words to people who have little joy and happiness in their lives. But, Cussy Mary is also a Blue. Born with a genetic anomaly that causes her skin to appear blue, she is treated as a colored person and in 1930s Appalachia, racism is strong and fear stokes cruelty.</div><div><br /></div><div>But Cussy Mary is kind, despite how others treat her and with her mule Junia, she travels the hills and hollows each week delivering books, and kindness, and hope to the people in her community. She is the one who knows who is sick, and hungry, and pregnant. She reads to them and listens as they read to her. She is the one they confide in and share their hopes and fears. </div><div><br /></div><div>This storytelling is fantastic. The author doesn't shy away from portraying the poverty and how lack of education and resources affects everything about life. The men risk life working in the coal mines and the women must feed and care for their families with nearly nothing. The scarcity of medical facilities and inability to communicate or travel meant that too many died in childbirth or from starvation and the story doesn't minimize that.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm late to the party for this book, but wow. Worth the wait. Such a fascinating story that set me off down a rabbit hole of learning about the Pack Horse Library Project and the blue people of Kentucky.</div><div><br /></div><div>Truly a remarkable story that highlights the power of literacy, kindness, and courage.</div><div><br /></div><div>I found the following video about the Pack Horse Library Project fascinating.</div><div> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="290" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zfug2-qXA-0" width="349" youtube-src-id="zfug2-qXA-0"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks to Netgalley for the opportunity to review this book. You can find my review for the sequel, <i>The Book Woman's Daughter</i>, <a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-book-womans-daughterbookreview.html">here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>* * * *</div><div>4 Stars</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: none;" /></a></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-57492366123297192532023-11-28T06:00:00.034-07:002023-11-28T06:00:00.137-07:00Puzzles...Christmas Books<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-wI2NdJY3KSg3TlKVWhxqUOx4jPktykDMCq7ny98j6idmO9rIqJ15Zce7qQATMJAPD9OWIURPTyP3iqpdOiZgzgkfyCdcgOUwXUQOYER_l0FLe2lIV4FaO2QUht3B8JVTrKCnVcsJiAxpc11ghoiQSit5xMoIU06PP58ien1IXdYKXMaRm4yxOd5Lw/s1177/IMG_20221228_212429_859.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="874" data-original-width="1177" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-wI2NdJY3KSg3TlKVWhxqUOx4jPktykDMCq7ny98j6idmO9rIqJ15Zce7qQATMJAPD9OWIURPTyP3iqpdOiZgzgkfyCdcgOUwXUQOYER_l0FLe2lIV4FaO2QUht3B8JVTrKCnVcsJiAxpc11ghoiQSit5xMoIU06PP58ien1IXdYKXMaRm4yxOd5Lw/w457-h340/IMG_20221228_212429_859.jpg" width="457" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My mom gave me this darling puzzle last year. And it was perfect for me. I love books and I love Christmas books. I have collected them for years because we read stories as a family on Christmas Eve. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUsrNPFCSkqci5RBnmvXjRtzBJvDIvmRtZn_gpUGaeh_5XWKdsPTS7GrMgSAuq_bNJDR1_wAv26juLusi6fszoZmwRlfRUqyeD-lawXdpgyTMs7jStaAIr_dcvekTGfb8h3LZWJNqkiZ0qQfYx4Gi30U78_dugGYMVtI7gUKxDmqdHgYvAR9_JYrIqOA/s1157/IMG_20221228_212430_020.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="860" data-original-width="1157" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUsrNPFCSkqci5RBnmvXjRtzBJvDIvmRtZn_gpUGaeh_5XWKdsPTS7GrMgSAuq_bNJDR1_wAv26juLusi6fszoZmwRlfRUqyeD-lawXdpgyTMs7jStaAIr_dcvekTGfb8h3LZWJNqkiZ0qQfYx4Gi30U78_dugGYMVtI7gUKxDmqdHgYvAR9_JYrIqOA/w219-h163/IMG_20221228_212430_020.jpg" width="219" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0CGxYtE92OBTJwbeHaGO828rLDcyb9oUyOwtAXAvp6BbfET7Nll71Q4Z5HzyyNIFTSA7afQ_6ag4tR_iSS2x-VrisAifWUaUF4p6F0pR5IwRTJUqWigfKwKu6T-senmkAwLtmNFJBoku_K5f0grCFFSF97qke80a53CBbp-NmxGclr4jARvZBS-1itA/s1324/IMG_20221228_212430_122.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="984" data-original-width="1324" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0CGxYtE92OBTJwbeHaGO828rLDcyb9oUyOwtAXAvp6BbfET7Nll71Q4Z5HzyyNIFTSA7afQ_6ag4tR_iSS2x-VrisAifWUaUF4p6F0pR5IwRTJUqWigfKwKu6T-senmkAwLtmNFJBoku_K5f0grCFFSF97qke80a53CBbp-NmxGclr4jARvZBS-1itA/w214-h160/IMG_20221228_212430_122.jpg" width="214" /></a></div></div><div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tile puzzles are my favorites, because I enjoy doing sections. This was so fun. Great quality and a pleasure to assemble.</div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfeQkPJduZJibcMyPZKkY8SP7G1Ut9BSNroOCLuqJmdTC-fztHpHNZgwkfw7ZdZI5YOqTQBtORh_xCFwRsLIi9BknTT8xhDdBhFgI17vB8Tru_mTLwjpPXVjHYfduT8a3Mcire0NGdflsLgJ4Ybw3SFXebLOr_Kkpov_B2q91A_hJhGm5j2DnBS1DqA/s1323/IMG_20221228_212430_223.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="984" data-original-width="1323" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfeQkPJduZJibcMyPZKkY8SP7G1Ut9BSNroOCLuqJmdTC-fztHpHNZgwkfw7ZdZI5YOqTQBtORh_xCFwRsLIi9BknTT8xhDdBhFgI17vB8Tru_mTLwjpPXVjHYfduT8a3Mcire0NGdflsLgJ4Ybw3SFXebLOr_Kkpov_B2q91A_hJhGm5j2DnBS1DqA/w395-h294/IMG_20221228_212430_223.jpg" width="395" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Christmas Books</div><div>1000 pieces</div><div>whitemountainpuzzles </div><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-67456960499617709302023-11-16T06:00:00.007-07:002023-11-16T13:17:23.490-07:00Diwali in my New Home...#BookReview<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX2IeLVM9uEOk9YdXX_BuxJaCYb5dvs2dpRReVR54nfjln6AwZtsDZTdfWOh4Ijtr4beJBZMXya9v_3DU6oRKLLR7mWsAqzcHkzT3zpINS277mHAykGLhml-TvDtq8wRrjgtZustvFCG7wFXDk81dohwUp6uS5tlhnh1gUX-cv131Mz-hJpTywIoWUMFHm/s707/diwali%20in%20my%20new%20home.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="707" data-original-width="563" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX2IeLVM9uEOk9YdXX_BuxJaCYb5dvs2dpRReVR54nfjln6AwZtsDZTdfWOh4Ijtr4beJBZMXya9v_3DU6oRKLLR7mWsAqzcHkzT3zpINS277mHAykGLhml-TvDtq8wRrjgtZustvFCG7wFXDk81dohwUp6uS5tlhnh1gUX-cv131Mz-hJpTywIoWUMFHm/w185-h232/diwali%20in%20my%20new%20home.png" width="185" /></a></div><i>About the book:</i><div><i>Priya loves being with family and friends to watch fireworks and celebrate Diwali. But this year Priya and her parents are living in the United States, and no one seems to know about the holiday. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Priya misses the traditions in India. But as she strings lights outside and creates rangoli art, Priya introduces the festival of lights to her neighbors. And even though the celebration is different this year, it's still Diwali. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>A heartwarming story of celebrating in a new place and sharing the Hindu festival of lights with those unfamiliar with the holiday.</i><div><br /></div><div>Priya is missing the familiar traditions of Diwali that she celebrated in India. Now that she lives in America, it is different. Diwali isn't a traditional American holiday.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWHIvLZYCOOpSzuiIRGQAKe0O5DKC2NPVpvpGZzXptTH4Dkmk8xSnSulAOl5ANdcGAu3-agkn59NX92kGq8-Egcjdk2FQYBpTlPJ4g6oey3fbd2wq3clBqosjjlSfnqq3vBZBB0ERISlEmILoOyfaEZO592DGe13HOlf0IvLrEMldh3JE4r1ZISN0pzuYf/s950/diwali%20in%20my%20new%20home%201.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="950" data-original-width="758" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWHIvLZYCOOpSzuiIRGQAKe0O5DKC2NPVpvpGZzXptTH4Dkmk8xSnSulAOl5ANdcGAu3-agkn59NX92kGq8-Egcjdk2FQYBpTlPJ4g6oey3fbd2wq3clBqosjjlSfnqq3vBZBB0ERISlEmILoOyfaEZO592DGe13HOlf0IvLrEMldh3JE4r1ZISN0pzuYf/w200-h251/diwali%20in%20my%20new%20home%201.png" width="200" /></a></div>But as Priya's family brought their traditions with them and as they prepare to celebrate Diwali, Priya realizes that it doesn't matter where she is. Diwali is the same. And when the neighbors are curious about the lights and art, they are able to share the holiday and show them the magic of Diwali.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is an absolutely beautiful story of light, love, and inclusion. I learned more about Diwali in this little book than I had ever known previously. </div><div><br /></div><div>The illustrations are vibrant and gorgeous. The message is beautiful. I appreciated the glossary and note at the end explaining what Diwali is and how it is celebrated in different parts of the world. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you to the author,
Shachi Kaushik, for the opportunity to review this lovely story. It will make a wonderful addition to any child's bookshelf.</div><div><br /></div><div>Read 11/23</div><div><br /></div><div>* * * * *</div><div>5/5 Stars</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-37998481512980363732023-11-08T06:00:00.001-07:002024-01-15T14:49:57.579-07:00From the Archive (2016): All the Light We Cannot See...#BookReview From the Archive highlights reviews of the past.<br />Today's review is from January of 2016.<div>You can find the original post <a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2016/01/all-light-we-cannot-seereview.html">here</a>.</div><div>-----------------------------------------------------------</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UuMYbUl8Hik/VowTHQxc3FI/AAAAAAAANTo/7oBZbbZpSUs/s1600/all%2Bthe%2Blight%2Bwe%2Bcannot%2Bsee.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UuMYbUl8Hik/VowTHQxc3FI/AAAAAAAANTo/7oBZbbZpSUs/s200/all%2Bthe%2Blight%2Bwe%2Bcannot%2Bsee.jpg" width="129" /></a></div><i>About the book:</i><br /><i>From the highly acclaimed, multiple award-winning Anthony Doerr, the beautiful, stunningly ambitious instant New York Times bestseller about a blind French girl and a German boy whose paths collide in occupied France as both try to survive the devastation of World War II.</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>Marie-Laure lives with her father in Paris near the Museum of Natural History, where he works as the master of its thousands of locks. When she is six, Marie-Laure goes blind and her father builds a perfect miniature of their neighborhood so she can memorize it by touch and navigate her way home. When she is twelve, the Nazis occupy Paris and father and daughter flee to the walled citadel of Saint-Malo, where Marie-Laure’s reclusive great-uncle lives in a tall house by the sea. With them they carry what might be the museum’s most valuable and dangerous jewel.</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>In a mining town in Germany, the orphan Werner grows up with his younger sister, enchanted by a crude radio they find. Werner becomes an expert at building and fixing these crucial new instruments, a talent that wins him a place at a brutal academy for Hitler Youth, then a special assignment to track the resistance. More and more aware of the human cost of his intelligence, Werner travels through the heart of the war and, finally, into Saint-Malo, where his story and Marie-Laure’s converge.</i><br /><br /></div><div><div><i><div class="separator"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaL98GycW392_LjWwF6kgv4fyg6s3d8w782guRf6zXML4C0f85w9HLCC4TejzuY-fHeTSmsc5orJ0aABL8EF3l2MnMyj5cMHecSgry5-M-PqjrOF3FJ6I8umgNvEBJ9IhWItzUeN9AoulvYDZEb7z-bTaz2vJdNukhZbvJP2PbZDIMgb1BCEZqi6-T2JiG/s600/all-the-light%204.webp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaL98GycW392_LjWwF6kgv4fyg6s3d8w782guRf6zXML4C0f85w9HLCC4TejzuY-fHeTSmsc5orJ0aABL8EF3l2MnMyj5cMHecSgry5-M-PqjrOF3FJ6I8umgNvEBJ9IhWItzUeN9AoulvYDZEb7z-bTaz2vJdNukhZbvJP2PbZDIMgb1BCEZqi6-T2JiG/s320/all-the-light%204.webp" width="320" /></a></div></i>I really should write my reviews immediately after having read a book. It's so much harder to go back and remember thoughts and insights. I've contemplated taking notes while I read, but just never get around to it.<br /><br />World War 2 as a literary setting just fascinates me. Especially coming from an American perspective. Our perspective is so different because the war never physically touched our country. Pearl Harbor, yes, but Pearl Harbor was so far away from the mainland. It affected our country because of our men and women who fought in that war and we had coastal blackouts and rationing, etc., but America as a whole wasn't bombed and we never felt those actual, physical effects. Our first real registered attacks came with 9/11. So reading about the European war experiences is compelling. <div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwq8cJMb7jYKcscspdu4S84_SQT4gBIZfrdLVQIeDjU-d2Xm7MpMzY5GnZJtYWYUkS6T5O8uav9B2_T-nF9Ir_h9tBj_nW_WN9kW1IazCqmL8Kbh1zt3Ie6YWkvIhwwjkZkoLbSLX5UfTbWU3juBiTrb3_dxIRUh_6fbZKlxRJw_ylzchwe5xOIvMoUYC/s1280/all-the-light%207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwq8cJMb7jYKcscspdu4S84_SQT4gBIZfrdLVQIeDjU-d2Xm7MpMzY5GnZJtYWYUkS6T5O8uav9B2_T-nF9Ir_h9tBj_nW_WN9kW1IazCqmL8Kbh1zt3Ie6YWkvIhwwjkZkoLbSLX5UfTbWU3juBiTrb3_dxIRUh_6fbZKlxRJw_ylzchwe5xOIvMoUYC/s320/all-the-light%207.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>We ask ourselves what would we have done? How would bombings and occupations affected us? Would we resist because it was right by choice or by pressure? And the answer is that we don't know.</div><div><br />In reading this book, similar questions come to mind. Should I help with the resistance? Should I simply go into hiding? Do I help this person when this war says they're my enemy?</div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Hk2773TSy26Cgdv1vTRL2fs9AmoP2YIawZBLyVYGL2FcMmGXP37MuaK_mplREo4rgcCzqj_iD47k2A_Byxin5IR-735E8ysAjPl8Rx9OAjwNcIXRCrEgOnqkg1XZYQz4UOJl_8_opvk49NcHvPuMIzoFvKIdRFPU4Ivj95uu15x0jwHGQE0Dd-ML2ynU/s1100/all-the-light%208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="824" data-original-width="1100" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Hk2773TSy26Cgdv1vTRL2fs9AmoP2YIawZBLyVYGL2FcMmGXP37MuaK_mplREo4rgcCzqj_iD47k2A_Byxin5IR-735E8ysAjPl8Rx9OAjwNcIXRCrEgOnqkg1XZYQz4UOJl_8_opvk49NcHvPuMIzoFvKIdRFPU4Ivj95uu15x0jwHGQE0Dd-ML2ynU/s320/all-the-light%208.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The narration of the story moves between the perspectives of Marie-Laure and Werner as well as jumping back and forth between time lines. We get peeks into the future, but it's not until the story wraps up that we see how it all comes together. Normally that might frustrate me, but it worked here.<br /><br />The prose is gorgeous. The writing lyrical. Marie-Laure was a remarkable character; so strong and resourceful. The history of the Brittany occupation was previously unfamiliar to me.<br /><br />One main question remains unanswered and that was frustrating although the discussion and speculation that decision promotes was good. But, just as the book's title infers, we don't see the whole story at once or even at all. There are still secrets and knowledge unknown.<br /><div><br /></div>Our book club read <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1476746583/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1476746583&linkCode=as2&tag=2kidandtirboo-20&linkId=WHPA6KSCEE6SCO7J" rel="nofollow">All the Light We Cannot See</a> </i>for our December gathering. It was universally recommended.<br /><br />Thanks to my local library for having a copy I could borrow. You can purchase your own copy <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1476746583/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1476746583&linkCode=as2&tag=2kidandtirboo-20&linkId=WHPA6KSCEE6SCO7J" rel="nofollow">here</a>.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6wS4j2zaY6O_kf4snCg-UlxDs4Kh8C0TreYKN0bOeUzXl9HL8AyBpg7JWzc3emGKzpBMgRhN7xCZ6maWE7pynTzULjJ6xX7FHz8SKjeMv32pcSqIZMHdCnx7IutekVe5UPjbvdek5OGg1UkoLtwOP9EV1uT2REgMV11rw1T8vFY2plpvLbBQJRQbZSqN/s780/all-the-light%209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="438" data-original-width="780" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6wS4j2zaY6O_kf4snCg-UlxDs4Kh8C0TreYKN0bOeUzXl9HL8AyBpg7JWzc3emGKzpBMgRhN7xCZ6maWE7pynTzULjJ6xX7FHz8SKjeMv32pcSqIZMHdCnx7IutekVe5UPjbvdek5OGg1UkoLtwOP9EV1uT2REgMV11rw1T8vFY2plpvLbBQJRQbZSqN/s320/all-the-light%209.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div></div><div><br />The Netflix Limited Series is a wonderfully vivid adaptation.</div></div><div>Read 12/15<br /><br />* * * *<br />4/5 Stars<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: none;" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-82445377403047959742023-11-06T06:00:00.011-07:002023-11-06T09:37:09.151-07:00Being Henry: The Fonz...and Beyond...#BookReview<div><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUOCq4msOyCm5H3aIS5msNGQ0RCIdvEhL4GfXY8w7gnmoasAYi-gISnR2kvPRcZB_GYZdSVBhSCHZpfAj-_44PcOSZSsqVqhS7HeejFUt5pY2HDYuTzjMqLugPhlGIkB8gCGmwlrMWiNlpRIRdHyr8kUjZGzX5xoeqdGvb8Pr6rs4XaCBEVJ8j933jpI7/s2850/65215014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2850" data-original-width="1875" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUOCq4msOyCm5H3aIS5msNGQ0RCIdvEhL4GfXY8w7gnmoasAYi-gISnR2kvPRcZB_GYZdSVBhSCHZpfAj-_44PcOSZSsqVqhS7HeejFUt5pY2HDYuTzjMqLugPhlGIkB8gCGmwlrMWiNlpRIRdHyr8kUjZGzX5xoeqdGvb8Pr6rs4XaCBEVJ8j933jpI7/s320/65215014.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>About the book:</i></div><div><i> From Emmy-award winning actor, author, comedian, producer, and director Henry Winkler, a deeply thoughtful memoir of the lifelong effects of stardom and the struggle to become whole. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Henry Winkler, launched into prominence by his role as “The Fonz” in the beloved </i>Happy Days<i>, has transcended the role that made him who he is. Brilliant, funny, and widely-regarded as the nicest man in Hollywood (though he would be the first to tell you that it’s simply not the case, he’s really just grateful to be here), Henry shares in this achingly vulnerable memoir the disheartening truth of his childhood, the difficulties of a life with severe dyslexia, the pressures of a role that takes on a life of its own, and the path forward once your wildest dream seems behind you. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Since the glorious era of </i>Happy Days<i> fame, Henry has endeared himself to a new generation with roles in such adored shows as </i>Arrested Development, Parks and Recreation, <i>and </i>Barry<i>, where he’s revealed himself as an actor with immense depth and pathos, a departure from the period of his life when he was so distinctly typecast as The Fonz, he could hardly find work. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Filled with profound heart, charm, and self-deprecating humor, Being Henry is a memoir about so much more than a life in Hollywood and the curse of stardom. It is a meaningful testament to the power of sharing truth and kindness and of finding fulfillment within yourself. </i></div><div><br /></div><div>As many children of the 70s, I grew up watching <i>Happy Days</i> each week and loving it. I had a Fonzie t-shirt. I don't watch much television though, so I wasn't aware of most of Henry's career post-<i>Happy Days</i>. I have, however, seen him in things over the years and I always thought him to be a kind person. His Twitter (X) account is delightful. I adore seeing his joy when he is here in Idaho fishing.</div><div><br /></div><div>His book was a delight to read. It arrived Thursday afternoon and I read it Thursday night. I have another book in progress and it simply got set aside for Henry.</div><div><br /></div><div>Henry talks of his life growing up: his parents fled Berlin just as the war was starting and his childhood was difficult. He had difficulty reading and didn't learn about his dyslexia until he was in his mid-thirties. But growing up and being called dumb and stupid does a number on your self-esteem and Henry is candid about always feeling inferior.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Happy Days</i> is central in the beginning, but Henry's story is so much more than that. He shares his frustrations at being typecast, at struggling to find work. Like many celebrity biographies there is a lot of name dropping as to who he worked with and so forth. But he is gracious and complimentary to most of those he has worked with over the years and he shares what he learned from them.</div><div><br /></div><div>I appreciated his honesty about discovering a good therapist when he was older and figuring out who he was and improving his relationships. </div><div><br /></div><div><div>He and his wife have been married for 47 years and he includes paragraphs in Stacey's words which enriches the narrative.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>While he is open about his life and frustrations and vulnerability, Henry's story is largely positive. You can feel his joy radiate off the pages. I highlighted some passages and have tagged so many pages. </div><div><br /></div><div>My favorite? When Henry talks about never finishing a negative sentence. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>"When you finish a negative sentence, it grows immediately into a paragraph, and then into a thesis, into so many words that grab your ankles and hold you in place....Release the negative thought before you put a period on the end of it."</i></div><div><br /></div><div><div>Henry is grateful for his life and it shows. </div><div><br /></div></div><div>This was a pleasure to read.</div><div><br /></div><div>Read 11/23</div><div><br /></div><div>* * * * *</div><div>5/5 Stars</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-69229542498959181992023-11-01T06:00:00.011-06:002023-11-01T06:00:00.139-06:00The Chaos of Stars...#BookReview<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6YlZx-kfV8mJGSNUqosSnm25_9tmMC6zyOV-dGL_IHWL1cg9RnO33oWaTe7RCz2HBvyo8uAGKlAIMSEjf0RRsL_gkqo3QNQfLSEPqQqIIze41P_mgLYC7VQRhOSuY0VZH9tO2p5jDVWDchNYsFLF-GkHP8r9LoL1FXBunNo0LCh7PHmahIjJNqkSXND9q/s463/12578305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="463" data-original-width="318" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6YlZx-kfV8mJGSNUqosSnm25_9tmMC6zyOV-dGL_IHWL1cg9RnO33oWaTe7RCz2HBvyo8uAGKlAIMSEjf0RRsL_gkqo3QNQfLSEPqQqIIze41P_mgLYC7VQRhOSuY0VZH9tO2p5jDVWDchNYsFLF-GkHP8r9LoL1FXBunNo0LCh7PHmahIjJNqkSXND9q/w221-h320/12578305.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><i><div><i>About the book:</i></div></i></div><div><i>Isadora's family is seriously screwed up—which comes with the territory when you're the human daughter of the ancient Egyptian gods Isis and Osiris. Isadora is tired of living with crazy relatives who think she's only worthy of a passing glance—so when she gets the chance to move to California with her brother, she jumps on it. But her new life comes with plenty of its own dramatic—and dangerous—complications . . . and Isadora quickly learns there's no such thing as a clean break from family. </i></div><div><br /></div><div>I picked up this book solely because I love the quote from it that I have seen floating around social media. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>"...I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you."</i><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So, I wanted to find the story and the context behind it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wasn't aware going into it that <i>The Chaos of Stars</i> was YA. Which usually isn't a problem for me, but I don't normally read it as I often have difficulty relating to the teenage protagonists. But this was an easy, and quick read. </div><div><br /></div><div>The idea of Egyptian and Greek gods living among mortals isn't new and it works here. The relationships in mythology are so absolutely bonkers, but Isadora's snarky commentary about them is delightful. </div><div><br /></div><div>And when your parents are gods, but they made you mortal, it's hard to accept. So, frustrated with her mother and scared of her older brother Anubis, Isadora leaves Egypt to live in America with her another brother Sirius, who had left the family home years earlier.</div><div><br /></div><div>The supporting characters are fantastic and they all work well together. The story flows quickly and for all its moments of depth, is still mildly shallow, but entertaining. And in spite of her experience of living among gods, Isadora is a teenage girl struggling to understand her family; particularly her mother. </div><div><br /></div><div>And yes, I discovered the full quote. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>"I didn't fall in love with you. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way. I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are fated to do the things that we'd choose anyway. And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you."</i></div><div><br /></div><div>I love that sentiment and it absolutely encompasses how I feel about my husband. </div><div><br /></div><div>Read 10/23</div><div><br /></div><div>* * *</div><div>3/5 Stars</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-5942378834834122592023-10-30T06:00:00.001-06:002023-10-30T06:00:00.151-06:00Your Guide to Not Getting Murdered in a Quaint English Village...#BookReview<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4gUGB4hpGAg2PkecpqKOont3Oqztb1vy-xzTdQUcNMR9Q7SENtzhaQuICpcxMVpAZSl8yi26f1Dm0RE_mlWkTVtJdQDlTfF-CzXmgMZC5dILjlVp7ehDri99ipK-KyUk3qMNKrgsmngd1lqJQSDUJLjyHnW6Wroh_JNJU01EWCstyWE0PXABddEDverZF/s400/57405598.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="291" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4gUGB4hpGAg2PkecpqKOont3Oqztb1vy-xzTdQUcNMR9Q7SENtzhaQuICpcxMVpAZSl8yi26f1Dm0RE_mlWkTVtJdQDlTfF-CzXmgMZC5dILjlVp7ehDri99ipK-KyUk3qMNKrgsmngd1lqJQSDUJLjyHnW6Wroh_JNJU01EWCstyWE0PXABddEDverZF/w234-h320/57405598.jpg" width="234" /></a></div><i>About the book:</i></div><div><i>Thinking of a foray to a quaint English village? You'll think twice after reading this tongue-in-cheek illustrated guide to the countless murderous possibilities lurking behind these villages' bucolic façades—from bestselling author Maureen Johnson and illustrator Jay Cooper. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>A weekend roaming narrow old lanes, touring the faded glories of a country manor, and quaffing pints in the pub. How charming. That is, unless you have the misfortune of finding yourself in an English Murder Village, where danger lurks around each picturesque cobblestone corner and every sip of tea may be your last. If you insist on your travels, do yourself a favor and bring a copy of this little book. It may just keep you alive. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Brought to life with dozens of Gorey-esque drawings by illustrator Jay Cooper and peppered with allusions to classic crime series and unmistakably British murder lore, </i>Your Guide to Not Getting Murdered in a Quaint English Village<i> gives you the tools you need to avoid the same fate, should you find yourself in a suspiciously cozy English village (or simply dream of going). Good luck, and whatever you do, avoid the vicar.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I picked this up on a whim during our last coastal getaway. We were in our favorite little bookshop and The Doctor handed it to me. Obviously we had to purchase it!</div><div><br /></div><div>Such a fun little read. Funny, sarcastic. Very British. Perfect for those who love cozy mysteries, historical British fiction, shows like Downton Abbey and anything on BritBox. The illustrations are reflective of Edward Gorey and a perfect accompaniment to the text.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's not meant to be serious. It's a charming little read that will make you smile.</div><div><br /></div><div>Read 10/23</div><div><br /></div><div>* * * * *</div><div>5/5 Stars</div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><i><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></i></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-6316728029426160542023-10-27T06:00:00.022-06:002023-10-27T06:00:00.164-06:00Пятница Ponderings: A Study in Grief<div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnwnCyysKCjNnPN-oNvaPnBolAgBfJIS8bHY_iEfX3bQG29biDodXQdvhIoI_Jb_7RPaxZVuLPob5btEvJl8i-MJiXxqLmul6CK6Rz6diwWvddL91Zza_gfxtXYX_1YlZgh0JYH6Tlqhv6LjkuPh4Zo-2eKK9mzyBkWl6R4-wjVM76fRr2vEacPAQpjEk/s4254/joshua-chehov-oCSol-lBtVA-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2350" data-original-width="4254" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnwnCyysKCjNnPN-oNvaPnBolAgBfJIS8bHY_iEfX3bQG29biDodXQdvhIoI_Jb_7RPaxZVuLPob5btEvJl8i-MJiXxqLmul6CK6Rz6diwWvddL91Zza_gfxtXYX_1YlZgh0JYH6Tlqhv6LjkuPh4Zo-2eKK9mzyBkWl6R4-wjVM76fRr2vEacPAQpjEk/w325-h180/joshua-chehov-oCSol-lBtVA-unsplash.jpg" title="https://unsplash.com/photos/a-green-heart-beat-on-a-black-background-oCSol-lBtVA" width="325" /></a></div>Ponder: to consider something deeply and thoroughly; meditate <br /></div><div>Пятница (PYAHT-nee-tsuh): Friday in Russian</div><div><b style="font-family: "times new roman";">-------------------</b></div></div><div>Grief is an interesting thing. It can come and go in waves. You think it's gone. You think you've dealt with it and processed it, but years later, it shows itself again.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Doctor and I went to visit a friend in the hospital last weekend. I've been to the hospital many times in the last 25 years. For myself, for my family, for my friends. There was nothing to indicate that this experience was going to be any different than the last one.</div><div><br /></div><div>But it was. We were going into the cardiac care unit. An ICU where we had to call to have the doors open. Those patients in that unit were all there because they had received heart surgery.</div><div><br /></div><div>And I never could have imagined the effect that being there would have on me. We visited with our friend for a few minutes and when the nurse came in to do a procedure, I stepped out and The Doctor stayed. And I silently fought a panic attack in the hallway.</div><div><br /></div><div>25 years ago, we spent three weeks in the NICU with The Boy after his open-heart surgery. And I thought I had worked through so much of my emotions regarding that experience. But, I hadn't. The day of The Boy's surgery, we didn't go to the hospital until after it was over. And as we walked into that post-surgical unit, we saw The Boy. All 8 lbs, 11 oz of him. Lying in a bassinet, covered in bandages and wires and tubes. And while I had to see him and know he was alive and recovering, it's a sight I will never, in my life, forget. </div><div><br /></div><div>But I had pushed it aside. And Sunday, in that adult CCU, seeing our friend--a larger than life adult--post-surgery, with the same bandages and wires and tubes, brought it all back, along with other emotions I thought I had processed. </div><div><br /></div><div>As we left, The Doctor, always perceptive to my emotions, knew that I was in emotional distress. We had mentioned to each other as we walked in that it was weird being back in an ICU. So, he knew I was struggling.</div><div><br /></div><div>I fought back tears as he asked me what I needed. I said, "I just want to hug him." And The Doctor's reply? "He's only 10 minutes away, we can stop by his place on the way home." So, he called The Boy and explained what had happened and that Mom just needed to see and hug him and The Boy said, "Of course! Come over." </div><div><br /></div><div>When I knocked on his door, he opened it and he was there: tall, handsome, strong, and healthy. And he opened up his arms and just held me while I cried. He gives really good hugs. And I could hold him and know that he was ok. He simply held me and murmured reassurances. And I was better. </div><div><br /></div><div>But I still cried in the car on the way home. And throughout Sunday, I cried. And The Doctor held me and let me talk. And I talked about memories of those days in the hospital. Of Baby Julian, in the crib next to The Boy, who passed away one evening. And my guilt over knowing that I would take my baby home. And Baby Sebastian, who's mom let me sit in her room and pump while I was at the hospital. I have always wondered what happened to them. I wish I remembered her name.</div><div><br /></div><div>I talked about my anger at the fact that this had happened to our child, as at the time, I didn't feel like I could acknowledge that anger. Because when you grow up in a high demand Christian religion, you are supposed to be grateful. Always. Even for the bad things. Because if you aren't, you are aren't trusting enough. Your faith in God is wavering. If you are sad, you are not looking at the big picture: The Eternal Perspective. And so, I had to be grateful that everything would be ok and not acknowledge my anger at it all happening. And that isn't healthy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Grief has stages. And one of those stages is Anger. And it needs to be dealt with and processed. And mine hadn't been. And even though The Boy lived and is now a healthy adult, I had grief to process. Grief at the fact that I didn't give birth to a healthy baby. The belief that it was all my fault; that I had done something wrong during his early fetal development. The anger that it happened to my son at all and that the joy of giving birth and nursing my newborn was taken away from me. So many things. But I had to push them all away, and simply be grateful. Which I was and still am, because I know it could have been so much worse. </div><div><br /></div><div>But, as The Doctor pointed out to me, minimizing what happened because it all worked out isn't healthy. I have to acknowledge those feelings and process them to truly move on. But, I couldn't. Not completely. Not then.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was a new mom with a post-surgical baby. Trying to take care of him, manage my post-partum issues and settle in. And gratitude was the only appropriate emotion to allow myself to experience, because you can't question God. And 2 months later I went back to work. And I had to manage working, with a baby, with a husband in school, and another baby a couple of years later, and a move out of state. And so it goes. And over the years I have had flashbacks to those three weeks in the NICU and I have processed those thoughts and experiences. But, I obviously hadn't dealt with all of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>And last weekend, it came back. And none of us saw it coming. But fortunately, I was in a position to stop and feel it all. And talk about it. And cry about it. And hold my son. And heal a little bit more.</div><div><br /></div><div>Grief is an interesting thing. And, I know that it will likely come with another wave at some point, but with time, and a toolbox of emotional support, it can be processed. </div><div><br /></div><div>And in the meantime, I will hug my son every chance I have, because I am so very grateful he is here.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-48412554155249291952023-10-24T06:00:00.001-06:002023-10-24T06:00:00.152-06:00From the Archive (2011): The Colonel's Lady...#BookReviewFrom the Archive highlights reviews of the past.<br />Today's review is from August of 2011.<div>You can find the original post <a href="https://2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com/2011/08/colonels-ladyreview.html">here</a>.</div><div>I love to reread this one.</div><div>-----------------------------------------------------------</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X7vwO5gu1ko/TiIEoa328pI/AAAAAAAAHNg/bKvg2DUkbTk/s1600/colonel%2527s+lady.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X7vwO5gu1ko/TiIEoa328pI/AAAAAAAAHNg/bKvg2DUkbTk/s200/colonel%2527s+lady.jpg" width="128" /></a></div><i>About the book:<br />Can love survive the secrets kept buried within a tormented heart?<br /><br />Roxanna Rowan may be a genteel Virginia woman, but she is determined to brave the wilds of the untamed frontier to reach a remote Kentucky fort. Eager to reunite with her father, who serves under Colonel Cassius McLinn, Roxanna is devastated to find that her father has been killed on a campaign.<br /><br />Penniless and out of options, Roxanna is forced to remain at the fort. As she spends more and more time with the fiery Colonel McLinn, the fort is abuzz with intrigue and innuendo. Can Roxanna truly know who the colonel is--and what he's done?<br /><br />Immerse yourself in this powerful story of love, faith, and forgiveness set in the tumultuous world of the frontier in 1779.</i><br /><br />Anxious to be reunited with her soldier father, Roxanna arrives at a rugged frontier fort in Kentucky and is devastated to learn of his death. Having no where else to go, Roxanna stays at the fort, taking her father's job as scribe and working with Colonel McLinn. As she comes to know Cass, she begins to fall in love, but the path to true love isn't always smooth. Danger lurks not only outside the fort walls, but inside as well, as Roxie discovers evidence that a British spy is among them. <br /><br />Laura Frantz is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. I love all three of her books and I've loaned them out many times to friends. When <i>The Colonel's Lady</i> arrived in my mailbox, I set everything aside to read it, including the book I was already partway through.<br /><br />Laura does not disappoint and in Roxanna and Cass, we find another strong couple navigating their way through life, love and war. As they come to love and trust each other, they also discover the importance of faith and forgiveness.<br /><br />The 18th century setting is fantastic and historically rich as Laura weaves the story around sections of the Revolutionary War and includes references to George Washington and other historical figures of the time. All of it comes together in a compelling, captivating novel that is difficult to put down.<br /><br />Read 7/11<br /><br />* * * * *<br />5/5 Stars<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: none;" /></a></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Fz3w4Qyn88w/SPzidhyjViI/AAAAAAAACn4/BShKVLAmJ8k/s1600-h/guernsey.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-86107448995230220742023-10-20T06:00:00.040-06:002023-10-20T18:16:47.623-06:00Пятница Ponderings: The Search for Stillness <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOKR1WvfnbLPIppWB8OemQS_r9bqQLIsJXyCd_6FA4pBFIP7oW1z5esMz7q9bnrtDafxZ4TxngGho7sKOc0tXrnCTTFWpkzh-ghaiOiMr9mFty6CVTS1R8M0bFWxQmFJRMLE7QoaNOTNU0FraXdSimuniohuJ4HGhq4ZuDfoUWY7Lrzm_2_Xl4xy5FQHT/s2697/sunroom.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1673" data-original-width="2697" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOKR1WvfnbLPIppWB8OemQS_r9bqQLIsJXyCd_6FA4pBFIP7oW1z5esMz7q9bnrtDafxZ4TxngGho7sKOc0tXrnCTTFWpkzh-ghaiOiMr9mFty6CVTS1R8M0bFWxQmFJRMLE7QoaNOTNU0FraXdSimuniohuJ4HGhq4ZuDfoUWY7Lrzm_2_Xl4xy5FQHT/s320/sunroom.jpg" width="320" /></a>Ponder: to consider something deeply and thoroughly; meditate Пятница (PYAHT-nee-tsuh): Friday in Russian</div><div><div><b style="font-family: "times new roman";">-------------------</b></div></div><div>Last week was our 27th wedding anniversary and we celebrated it at our happy place. A little house on the Oregon coast. It's a place we've been to in years past; where we go each October. It's familiar. It feels like home.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>We have a routine. We know what the house does and doesn't provide, so we bring a few essentials. We stop and get groceries on our way in and we ready the house when we get there. And the next day, we go to our favorite coastal bookshop and puzzle store. And we sit on the deck that faces the ocean. And if it's raining, like it was last weekend, we sit in the sunroom at the back of the house. And watch the ocean. Sometimes we play Scrabble. We often read or write. We always talk. Sometimes I do a puzzle. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9vARdLPsRl1IzUlHzFnk7wmkbWWpmeMRy1A_w0DgBiPpOSuhgMyWq_WTm3Of0aLfzxUQLq01n0UdCf9XVKQU_7hm0ZmebqDB_Z60G9Z8KYz0HG3HZjbwkV0Rf6IFXcLg0a1rMuLA650IOdoBdktYUPEGSeYruy-7SWoo_jU7BH2qOwTNsc3F9SLsDEEa/s4000/ocean.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="4000" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9vARdLPsRl1IzUlHzFnk7wmkbWWpmeMRy1A_w0DgBiPpOSuhgMyWq_WTm3Of0aLfzxUQLq01n0UdCf9XVKQU_7hm0ZmebqDB_Z60G9Z8KYz0HG3HZjbwkV0Rf6IFXcLg0a1rMuLA650IOdoBdktYUPEGSeYruy-7SWoo_jU7BH2qOwTNsc3F9SLsDEEa/w587-h264/ocean.jpg" width="587" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>We usually have our yearly business meeting at some point--where we talk about the practice and any issues we need to work on, change, etc. </div><div><br /></div><div>What we really do when we are there, is rest. </div><div><br /></div><div>Last weekend, I spent hours--literally hours--sitting in my sunroom, because it was stormy. I sat and watched the ocean. I napped to the sounds of the waves crashing. I prepared meals and did some of those necessary housekeeping tasks, but I was always drawn back to my spot. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9z5iwYH-DsHX0uDBeA474ajA7S8clymdaiXRhIXw924rkJyrlcCx_qPAUKzsvKwWnZk1QiSuM1ZAdNWWa9vT5pJjB8z_FSSdM3igfMone9KHlEvqki03ZeppY0RK8pxDwMu-uIeY6z5QO4lOH1q-mS910ABAdmnCFB-vUuVGD4MTSQNlyTU4psKGfUMqK/s1977/sun.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1977" data-original-width="1421" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9z5iwYH-DsHX0uDBeA474ajA7S8clymdaiXRhIXw924rkJyrlcCx_qPAUKzsvKwWnZk1QiSuM1ZAdNWWa9vT5pJjB8z_FSSdM3igfMone9KHlEvqki03ZeppY0RK8pxDwMu-uIeY6z5QO4lOH1q-mS910ABAdmnCFB-vUuVGD4MTSQNlyTU4psKGfUMqK/s320/sun.jpg" width="230" /></a></div><br /></div><div>In the moment when the sun finally peeked through the clouds, I went outside and stood underneath the beams. Letting them warm my face. And I felt peace.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Doctor often joined me and we would sit together in silence, just watching and listening. Holding hands, snuggling, and sometimes sharing a thought or two. </div><div><br /></div><div>I had closed the doors to the television cupboard. I played no music. I was barely on social media (and didn't miss it). I sat in stillness. </div><div><br /></div><div>Stillness. To sit in stillness is such a joyful experience to me. Mostly because those moments are so fleeting in my busy life and bustling home. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sound is all around: vehicles passing by, appliances that hum even if they're not actively working, the dog, the humans who live here, and the lights, all emit sound. The energy that encompasses our presence can be restless and disrupting to others. The quiet resonates. Even the act of being needed; by people, creatures, chores, and events creates sound. Being needed is often deafening.</div><div><br /></div><div>While I understand that some people crave sound and it helps them; white noise, background noise, music on headphones, I am not one of them. The Doctor sleeps with white noise, I sleep with ear plugs. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hadn't realized for a long time how much that sound and noise was intrusive to me. Until I had a weekend to bask in the stillness of time.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2IiMa5qjGYXlKEkB-QlRlGCvYJcrLhlLqlkZ6xJPiQ9vuwoeCVSfhVJny49tCKxSTeLTgY8UCWYXNX9lzEt6MtxdHePWg6zlmpP3fIVzE8tVsq7M8I1Xp_knYeOE0wOdCScZobhX4ZtRiKnWhijzUwe29-1hnpCj1e9mSHKxkCh5QYd2_kTOzKn_XHHqb/s2757/sunroom%202.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2757" data-original-width="1794" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2IiMa5qjGYXlKEkB-QlRlGCvYJcrLhlLqlkZ6xJPiQ9vuwoeCVSfhVJny49tCKxSTeLTgY8UCWYXNX9lzEt6MtxdHePWg6zlmpP3fIVzE8tVsq7M8I1Xp_knYeOE0wOdCScZobhX4ZtRiKnWhijzUwe29-1hnpCj1e9mSHKxkCh5QYd2_kTOzKn_XHHqb/w208-h320/sunroom%202.jpg" width="208" /></a>Last weekend, I read no books (I did purchase several though...). I did no puzzles (but, I did purchase one...). When I say I literally spent hours watching the ocean, it's the truth. I watched and observed and listened. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I heard the ocean say to me that I needed to find moments of stillness in my daily life. That until I could live next to the ocean permanently, I needed to find it in my heart wherever I was.</div><div><br /></div><div>That is so difficult. So very difficult. I am landlocked in Idaho. There is no ocean here. We have beautiful rivers that aren't terribly far away and a lake, but no ocean. And going to these places every day or even every week isn't always possible. </div><div><br /></div><div>I came home last week and I sat outside with Cocoa. Because I had missed her and she had missed me and she loves it when I sit in my swing and she lies on the patio surveying her domain. But as I sat there, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that the wind in the tree was the ocean. That the sound of cars on the busy road a block away was the waves. And I couldn't. It wasn't the same.</div><div><br /></div><div>I came home and laundry beckoned, and the trash needed to be put out (which The Doctor and The Artist did) and the office phone had messages that needed answering before we went into work on Tuesday and I found myself resentful of these intrusions, rather than being grateful that I had clothes to wear and a practice that supports our family and allows us to get away to the ocean.</div><div><br /></div><div>And I cried. Because I missed it so much. Because while I'm grateful for the work that supports our family, I despise healthcare and other than some really nice patients, I find so little value or satisfaction in it. This week was especially trying because of insurance companies and difficulties in getting issues resolved. And I know that being negative about working in healthcare isn't going to help my search for stillness, for peace. To find that, I can acknowledge the difficult and try and change it, but I can't focus on it. Camping out in the valley of despair gets you nowhere. Trust me.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, I am going on a journey. A journey to find moments of stillness every day. To find it sitting outside with Cocoa and being grateful for the clean air and the breeze in the trees and the swing that my children gave to me. To find it at work caring for patients, but then keeping the office at the office and each weekend taking a drive with The Doctor, if we can't take the whole weekend. And driving to the river and sitting there listening. To find it being with my family and talking and enjoying each other and being grateful for the laughter. </div><div><br /></div><div>To make a better, more consistent, effort at meditation and journaling.</div><div><br /></div><div>To find it while sitting at my table, working on my latest puzzle and listening to the sounds of the ocean in my earbuds.</div><div><br /></div><div>The search for stillness is going to be a process, I think. It's not going to be a one-time miracle of awakening. It will be many. But I will find it. And I will embrace it when I do.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-39665495289285106112023-10-11T06:00:00.001-06:002023-10-11T06:00:00.147-06:00Whimsy Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9bvPaztuIYrTYHfRtAp4_5tVH_UDAhqEPoX4V37DeflOvrI-34u6umNU0eEY79odfjgC3RgFhfmNeTJPcUsLTipg8WlGthw4hU61jKp7iT7HjxjpBzVvq1Zwvb4lvooDl016Gk2hBBzhRCsi8h43iiMUuyFav1S6sDk214Q2dKFqEfUUasXMw7QMag/s600/11_04_10_68d6afb0fcf21e9c0afb3493000c4cd9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="515" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9bvPaztuIYrTYHfRtAp4_5tVH_UDAhqEPoX4V37DeflOvrI-34u6umNU0eEY79odfjgC3RgFhfmNeTJPcUsLTipg8WlGthw4hU61jKp7iT7HjxjpBzVvq1Zwvb4lvooDl016Gk2hBBzhRCsi8h43iiMUuyFav1S6sDk214Q2dKFqEfUUasXMw7QMag/w358-h416/11_04_10_68d6afb0fcf21e9c0afb3493000c4cd9.jpg" width="358" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.creators.com/read/free-range/11/10/12585"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Source</i></span></a>.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-37546530967194145322023-10-04T06:00:00.001-06:002023-10-04T06:00:00.136-06:00Whimsy Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFHTTzVbF84P248h-mAYUfkGlLEqaTTaRdBwL3wzzkBpNTy6fvuba2mEMAvSMN9ZtYZ18csfpp4l-mTsNtipTHwZoY5KbPzd9yC6KSd-MqegADvdE21Ui5OhAtkT1fdydOIRFrx8jYk4Z3q2gB9rE6UMO5PSvjn_atMeAwpB02sn21h2SgpKtFHsxyQ/s317/24e03675ab21e2589f6d6eb57fe43755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="317" data-original-width="300" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFHTTzVbF84P248h-mAYUfkGlLEqaTTaRdBwL3wzzkBpNTy6fvuba2mEMAvSMN9ZtYZ18csfpp4l-mTsNtipTHwZoY5KbPzd9yC6KSd-MqegADvdE21Ui5OhAtkT1fdydOIRFrx8jYk4Z3q2gB9rE6UMO5PSvjn_atMeAwpB02sn21h2SgpKtFHsxyQ/w398-h420/24e03675ab21e2589f6d6eb57fe43755.jpg" width="398" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/838936236854394412/"><i>Source</i></a>.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-77930063805530780982023-08-30T06:00:00.001-06:002023-08-30T06:00:00.146-06:00Whimsy Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggq-g8_EvoHUdWA4-O4dUfuUk4UlifSkkjpdQeN4rFpkpHfntWvNoPkzvsCVlN1nIYdkMl72zOZu-zigMrHrxxnwW-E54cWoJk-H30jV1N91wJoou86rJSlGDO-RYQ1djjpRj5tue3wyX2NnGSGOq0tWl7cfzwopwHz01goAjNugtevP3CK7S3o2nMNA/s720/12_09_22_290955e807be52ba98a2318b7ee841e4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="650" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggq-g8_EvoHUdWA4-O4dUfuUk4UlifSkkjpdQeN4rFpkpHfntWvNoPkzvsCVlN1nIYdkMl72zOZu-zigMrHrxxnwW-E54cWoJk-H30jV1N91wJoou86rJSlGDO-RYQ1djjpRj5tue3wyX2NnGSGOq0tWl7cfzwopwHz01goAjNugtevP3CK7S3o2nMNA/w383-h424/12_09_22_290955e807be52ba98a2318b7ee841e4.jpg" width="383" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.pressregister.com/index.php/comics/speed-bump-dec-09-2022-1"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Source</span></i></a>.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-43460952867015495502023-08-18T06:00:00.032-06:002023-08-18T06:00:00.132-06:00Childhood Favorites...The Bobbsey Twins<i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SggCy5KyJbw/Vw5pcf7TnVI/AAAAAAAAN-o/2420fsExu9ww8zXusXvOA2aRlbsWS1-KACLcB/s1600/donald%2Bzolan%2Bquiet%2Btime.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SggCy5KyJbw/Vw5pcf7TnVI/AAAAAAAAN-o/2420fsExu9ww8zXusXvOA2aRlbsWS1-KACLcB/w200-h149/donald%2Bzolan%2Bquiet%2Btime.jpg" title="Donald Zolan, Quiet Time." width="200" /></a></div>Childhood favorites. Everyone has a favorite book or author from childhood. A book that touched them or changed them. A book that perhaps initiated their love of reading and put them on the path of libraries and learning.</i><div><i><br /></i><i>Childhood Favorites is a monthly series focusing on beloved books from the past. </i><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Telling you about this series will really date me. But I absolutely adored The Bobbsey Twins. I had them all. The purple backed Grosset and Dunlap books. I loved solving mysteries with Bert and Nan and Freddie and Flossie.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGiOUzlIrwB1xuqTXUh8n8qEeZ8ov4ExMTOqls3CazWRb03CpypvWGTPMfDIiB0EOX_xOA1Hqq4vk3uSHh6ZQZvgKCsl_ffd_gGECWFeDoPLG_-0jQrqLGXubLJuN7wsHbSHT86AJBsaXvfV5nB3cyFF-4qmv6HvFlP9QqSGZu3GJF8SspwZTa4MmPA/s281/1122407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="187" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGiOUzlIrwB1xuqTXUh8n8qEeZ8ov4ExMTOqls3CazWRb03CpypvWGTPMfDIiB0EOX_xOA1Hqq4vk3uSHh6ZQZvgKCsl_ffd_gGECWFeDoPLG_-0jQrqLGXubLJuN7wsHbSHT86AJBsaXvfV5nB3cyFF-4qmv6HvFlP9QqSGZu3GJF8SspwZTa4MmPA/s1600/1122407.jpg" width="187" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6pUULnciAoQELGT6ccz3gKnho6RgxyNkBJhRo8s8cPigrBO3fWEuXeWZ92QDnUPGJpD8vtJLw4rhNjSMJvucJsu7XWtq5hNzAgnW0vcI_3QDGsQU8iO-JlH5nKO0FiBDkcUKu0G1f1Qe89Bx9uzXfOfeEc3kExRyrjIYlpMIb2BJyD-uXNxMgIhrOpQ/s282/7894812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="282" data-original-width="188" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6pUULnciAoQELGT6ccz3gKnho6RgxyNkBJhRo8s8cPigrBO3fWEuXeWZ92QDnUPGJpD8vtJLw4rhNjSMJvucJsu7XWtq5hNzAgnW0vcI_3QDGsQU8iO-JlH5nKO0FiBDkcUKu0G1f1Qe89Bx9uzXfOfeEc3kExRyrjIYlpMIb2BJyD-uXNxMgIhrOpQ/s1600/7894812.jpg" width="188" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I got Bobbsey Twins books in my Christmas stocking and Easter Basket. I got a Bobbsey Twin book for different accomplishments. I got a new one when we would travel in the summer from California to Idaho and I would have it finished before we arrived.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYaLdTrb4PWRiTsn0YKSWHMz57opM-CzUhySXEmXtFANl6IKFoEYFyltLIXQ2snBau7zJI57a6eKAUxJ2dCcEv0f8IegXs9Tu11NnBxmVx2ScHmyADR2w6KiZHyMGHkILqSFPzHVwhzBw7p4P56w2NZxTu3SYTo9uYC2q-vKTCp0CCM1lQLQCXJ7n3A/s475/11276907.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="318" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYaLdTrb4PWRiTsn0YKSWHMz57opM-CzUhySXEmXtFANl6IKFoEYFyltLIXQ2snBau7zJI57a6eKAUxJ2dCcEv0f8IegXs9Tu11NnBxmVx2ScHmyADR2w6KiZHyMGHkILqSFPzHVwhzBw7p4P56w2NZxTu3SYTo9uYC2q-vKTCp0CCM1lQLQCXJ7n3A/s320/11276907.jpg" width="214" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrv8BtVS1T_1fRWpstb0SffXm7dHulhpwJ0Q8OYwoN7PtNR_KrQYYSFfSPIEItPQWXzyws-Q03zCk0mHVmRkhPc3QOnApF5iflFb6NHQgcS0zPFUkEzCyiQLE0p5fZZLn6BKnMmD8fMvV-9pnEW8G_o0zbYaIucY4EjFnuiTMl8028X_vhzZpyb67oHQ/s293/22745328.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="293" data-original-width="180" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrv8BtVS1T_1fRWpstb0SffXm7dHulhpwJ0Q8OYwoN7PtNR_KrQYYSFfSPIEItPQWXzyws-Q03zCk0mHVmRkhPc3QOnApF5iflFb6NHQgcS0zPFUkEzCyiQLE0p5fZZLn6BKnMmD8fMvV-9pnEW8G_o0zbYaIucY4EjFnuiTMl8028X_vhzZpyb67oHQ/w195-h318/22745328.jpg" width="195" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The original books are very dated now. There is always a bully in these stories who gets his due. Many children would not understand references or dialogue. They certainly wouldn't understand why Dinah, the family's Black cook, whose husband Sam was the handyman, lived in the upstairs quarters. But, it is a product of its time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc7Qdabs-6w4DogXX5W5-6Iu-U93vgTls8fGC1oMX32_O0YWnzwlS5heba5g3W4tom0qMGHsFSjbAasZ_QHHVR7ZlUueIxWV7a3Cg1yoASEPPdBkqJa6haHOV3OmF7hdecz7WBriXUBjjhuNwt6HY587izsuFviOL7nywId9BSEsQqkLhtOYIQhlz_RA/s423/houseboat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="423" data-original-width="287" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc7Qdabs-6w4DogXX5W5-6Iu-U93vgTls8fGC1oMX32_O0YWnzwlS5heba5g3W4tom0qMGHsFSjbAasZ_QHHVR7ZlUueIxWV7a3Cg1yoASEPPdBkqJa6haHOV3OmF7hdecz7WBriXUBjjhuNwt6HY587izsuFviOL7nywId9BSEsQqkLhtOYIQhlz_RA/s320/houseboat.jpg" width="217" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP6R8vjtYeYe2Fso-iIfzz-fM21JektiIRKhm2k4ORwfl2-v6ncCgfnoez_CfrXYxuTSe-yzs1BSYaGAk76zFL9Frr7KwTPt6jdJMWLUzPZaaaoy5ZhWoMz9tn-HRpohrJk0efSx2dMBqG6T6gKA1szWD7jBlpmhRLPm-vA1P20BNR8uLFTcdb5Xu_lA/s350/sun%20moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="246" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP6R8vjtYeYe2Fso-iIfzz-fM21JektiIRKhm2k4ORwfl2-v6ncCgfnoez_CfrXYxuTSe-yzs1BSYaGAk76zFL9Frr7KwTPt6jdJMWLUzPZaaaoy5ZhWoMz9tn-HRpohrJk0efSx2dMBqG6T6gKA1szWD7jBlpmhRLPm-vA1P20BNR8uLFTcdb5Xu_lA/s320/sun%20moon.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I have such fond memories of these books. My children were never interested in them, but they were a happy part of my childhood.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What about you? What is one of your childhood favorites?</div>
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-73877327182855369452023-08-14T06:00:00.005-06:002023-08-14T09:34:01.289-06:00Project Hail Mary...#BookReview<i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhxh8m-BtCpHHe0bh3am0rcHKgm_jcIWXsOPxsT1b4lNnBp1BTrkct4lE4iwDgga4EYws737cX3j4Se7P-Bg6kWumNk21N-qsbATB48FH01fICMgYeS-uwWDEwlM0Nh92eOCDl4YKknwI-8ojXmkNGRUjGtlkpEiMagdfokjVzmctiaIkTBhFxHFcXxAQ/s400/54493401.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="265" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhxh8m-BtCpHHe0bh3am0rcHKgm_jcIWXsOPxsT1b4lNnBp1BTrkct4lE4iwDgga4EYws737cX3j4Se7P-Bg6kWumNk21N-qsbATB48FH01fICMgYeS-uwWDEwlM0Nh92eOCDl4YKknwI-8ojXmkNGRUjGtlkpEiMagdfokjVzmctiaIkTBhFxHFcXxAQ/w133-h200/54493401.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>About the book:</i><div><i>
A lone astronaut.<br />
An impossible mission.<br />
An ally he never imagined.<br />
<br />
Ryland Grace is the sole survivor on a desperate, last-chance mission - and if he fails, humanity and the earth itself will perish.</i></div><div><i>
<br />Except that right now, he doesn't know that. He can't even remember his own name, let alone the nature of his assignment or how to complete it.</i></div><div><i>
<br />All he knows is that he's been asleep for a very, very long time. And he's just been awakened to find himself millions of miles from home, with nothing but two corpses for company.</i></div><div><i>
<br />His crewmates dead, his memories fuzzily returning, Ryland realizes that an impossible task now confronts him. Hurtling through space on this tiny ship, it's up to him to puzzle out an impossible scientific mystery-and conquer an extinction-level threat to our species.</i></div><div><i>
<br />And with the clock ticking down and the nearest human being light-years away, he's got to do it all alone. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Or</i></div><div><i><br /> does he?
</i></div><div><br /></div><div>Like many people, I adored <i>The Martian</i>, so I was intrigued by <i>Project Hail Mary.</i> The Doctor and The Boy both read and loved it and kept after me to read it so we could talk about it. (I love my bookish family.) So, I read it in a weekend. And Holy Astrophage Batman!, it was fantastic.</div><div><br /></div><div>Earth is dying and there is a chance it could be saved, but it means a suicide mission to Tau Ceti. And Ryland Grace is the reluctant candidate. He's not an astronaut, he's a middle school science teacher. But, he gets pulled into the project because of a scientific paper he wrote and the rest is history. Literally. </div><div><br /></div><div>There is so much here. So much. And I want to share and talk and explain, but that would involve spoilers. </div><div><br /></div><div>The character study of those who are trying to find a way to save Earth and the extremes they will go to is compelling. Countries of the world working together; people getting conscripted because of their knowledge and abilities. Decisions are made that will hurt some, but could save the entire world in the process. You really ask yourself, "What would I do?" It's a perfect example of the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few. </div><div><br /></div><div>Once Ryland wakes up at his destination, he must figure out who he is and what he is doing there, because he's spent years comatose. The deductive reasoning was something else that fascinated me. His process at figuring things out was interspersed with flashbacks to how he got to Tau Ceti in the first place. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ryland is smart and he cares about people; he loves teaching his kids. As he works to solve his situations in space, there is often internal dialogue of "how would I explain this to the kids" or "what is it I tell the kids about this..."</div><div><br /></div><div>And Rocky. Oh my goodness. Rocky is the best. He is the key to this story. He is what shows us that working together we can make a difference and save worlds. That our differences help, rather than hinder our progress. It plays out like an intelligent buddy comedy and I am so here for it. It's at once a funny, terrifying, and heartwarming roller coaster. </div><div><br /></div><div><div>Like <i>The Martian</i>, the story is heavy with astrophysics and science-jargon. I tend to skim a lot of that because I just don't have a science/physics/math background. But, an understanding of astrophysics isn't crucial to enjoying the story. It enriches it if that is your thing. I just asked The Doctor a question here or there for clarification. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm still pondering this story and it's been a week. It's going to be one of my favorites for the year, I can tell that already.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Read 8/23</div><div><br /></div><div>* * * * *</div><div>5/5 Stars</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-30330015877637481082023-08-12T09:30:00.034-06:002023-08-12T09:30:00.144-06:00Weekend Reflections 8/12<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1i1FEt8ukGrRVfAQ6ARiiqsMhh-svWMPPtXF_RjI285B-6IGfEEUZtb7HY1xNkYPSugprSCu9ti90PzUbDQ2X7Da19HD3WIaI5FATws7P93GMYeagpzkQ1CBoCIktwg0DWFuSySq2DohzMPJI8n804nDYn-0zXPrZDwcYrYyOAO9iS6aj2qjq8gCmQ/s835/mug%20and%20books.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="835" data-original-width="736" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1i1FEt8ukGrRVfAQ6ARiiqsMhh-svWMPPtXF_RjI285B-6IGfEEUZtb7HY1xNkYPSugprSCu9ti90PzUbDQ2X7Da19HD3WIaI5FATws7P93GMYeagpzkQ1CBoCIktwg0DWFuSySq2DohzMPJI8n804nDYn-0zXPrZDwcYrYyOAO9iS6aj2qjq8gCmQ/w176-h200/mug%20and%20books.jpg" title="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/203013895694499724/" width="176" /></span></a></div><span><b>Looking outside...</b>it's sunny. It's supposed to be hot. We've had some mild weather this week and I have absolutely loved it. Cocoa loves to be outside, but wants one of us with her and I've enjoyed sitting on my swing in the shade.<br /></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><div><span><b>Listening...</b>I've had <i>Sigh No More Ladies</i> from Shakespeare's <i>Much Ado About Nothing</i>, in my head for a few days. The Kenneth Branagh film from 1993. It is so good. So good. And holds up all these years later. </span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><b>Today...</b>grocery pick-up this morning. The Artist is working and the Boy is over here, working on his project car with The Doctor and I am probably canning mixed-berry jelly. I have half a jar left from last year and my aunt is bring berries over today. </span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;">She grows it. I process it. We share. It's a good system.</span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;">I've done tomatoes, salsa, and jalapeño pepper jelly so far this summer.<br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span style="color: black;"><b>Thinking...</b>that I'm not sure I have anything to say. We'll see what comes out as I write.</span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span><b>In my kitchen...</b>toast and cold brew. Maybe take-out tonight.<br /></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><b>Wearing...</b>cute black pajamas.<br /><br /></div><div><b>Hoping...</b>for a kinder world. Ripples matter. Be kind. Do good. Make a difference. Love is a verb.<br /><br /></div><div><span><b>Reading...</b>I read <i>Project Hail Mary</i> by Andy Weir last weekend. Absolutely fantastic. My review goes up on Monday.</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><b>Tonight...</b>maybe movie night. We haven't done that in awhile.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Quoting...</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rbSN4Lv_N4g" width="320" youtube-src-id="rbSN4Lv_N4g"></iframe></div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">The whole film is perfect and I can quote all of Beatrice's lines. I took Shakespeare in college and I love that films are made to show us his brilliance.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><b>Feeling...</b>some days it feels like we're living in some strange alternate reality. Politically, it seems as if we are going back in time; rights are being lost, people don't matter, and fascists are winning.</span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;">Florida now is banning Shakespeare. Really? Honestly Florida, if any of your radicals could even read Shakespeare they wouldn't understand a word of it because it's not in simple sentences. </span>But don't ever watch or read <i>Much Ado About Nothing</i>. It has, wait for it, sexual content and humor. OMG. Not that any of your radicals would ever recognize it though.</div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;">The entire world is laughing at you and your dipshit of a governor. And they're laughing at the rest of us for that matter, because America is imploding, but yay! No one in Florida will even recognize the greatness that is William Shakespeare, because its subtleties are way beyond the levels of first years. </span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div>You extremists can't handle women like Beatrice anyway. Thank goodness so many of us are standing up and saying, we have rights and we won't settle for what you want for us.</div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;">And the rest of you? For the love of anything holy, please vote for intelligent people in your next elections. People who care about others, not their own hypocritical self-interests. </span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span><b>Planning...</b>we are getting away to the coast for our 27th anniversary this fall and I can't wait.<br /></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span><b>Gratitude...</b><span style="color: black;">for iced coffee, air conditioning, grocery pick-up, and take-out. Seriously. Pick-up and take-out are the best.<br /></span></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span><span style="font-weight: bold;">From my world... </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjlI6ajjnwY-DYGTq9l0BQPQ2y79S8EPZ-ZMVEHtbTI1RJQpIgcxlwF_rJxqLbGDQa0xQXjw3YWMIu2CZ0xul58X6h0wJhdbFZ1SZI26nOenUq7AeuvumWuwJhd0Hul6qG8MndMNPc_EBjfMcLyJxg9Scq2lnjiOjiwaab4b7ft3fCWDRs8pNydSbgUmUr/s1440/FOTO_20230811_210607.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="984" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjlI6ajjnwY-DYGTq9l0BQPQ2y79S8EPZ-ZMVEHtbTI1RJQpIgcxlwF_rJxqLbGDQa0xQXjw3YWMIu2CZ0xul58X6h0wJhdbFZ1SZI26nOenUq7AeuvumWuwJhd0Hul6qG8MndMNPc_EBjfMcLyJxg9Scq2lnjiOjiwaab4b7ft3fCWDRs8pNydSbgUmUr/w274-h400/FOTO_20230811_210607.jpg" width="274" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Found these at the store last weekend. Oh. My. Goodness. They are divine.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>What about you? What are you reflecting on this week? How has your week gone?</b></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: none;" /></a></span></span></div></div></div><div><span><br /></span></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-5210372381605665662023-07-29T10:20:00.001-06:002023-07-29T10:20:56.391-06:00Weekend Reflections 7/29<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1i1FEt8ukGrRVfAQ6ARiiqsMhh-svWMPPtXF_RjI285B-6IGfEEUZtb7HY1xNkYPSugprSCu9ti90PzUbDQ2X7Da19HD3WIaI5FATws7P93GMYeagpzkQ1CBoCIktwg0DWFuSySq2DohzMPJI8n804nDYn-0zXPrZDwcYrYyOAO9iS6aj2qjq8gCmQ/s835/mug%20and%20books.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="835" data-original-width="736" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1i1FEt8ukGrRVfAQ6ARiiqsMhh-svWMPPtXF_RjI285B-6IGfEEUZtb7HY1xNkYPSugprSCu9ti90PzUbDQ2X7Da19HD3WIaI5FATws7P93GMYeagpzkQ1CBoCIktwg0DWFuSySq2DohzMPJI8n804nDYn-0zXPrZDwcYrYyOAO9iS6aj2qjq8gCmQ/w176-h200/mug%20and%20books.jpg" title="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/203013895694499724/" width="176" /></span></a></div><span><b>Looking outside...</b>it's sunny. And going to be hot. I don't like the heat. I love air conditioning. So much. And Fall. I can't wait for Fall.<br /></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><div><span><b>Listening...</b>I've had <i>Nothing Compares to You</i> by </span>Sinéad O'Connor in my head for the past few days. I love it, but I need to find something to override it.</div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><b>Today...</b>the Boy is working on his project car and then we have the UFC fights this evening. I did my grocery pick-up yesterday evening, so today it's some laundry and household chores.<br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span style="color: black;"><b>Thinking...</b>It's always tragic when someone dies unexpectedly. Whether that person is someone you know personally or from afar, it is often a time for reflection. For those of us who were teenagers in the 80s, Sinéad O'Connor's music is something we knew. At the time, I didn't understand much about her or her anger at the Catholic church. But, I knew her music resonated. I understand much more now about her anger at religion and the abuses that are covered up and hidden.</span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;">Children are important. Protecting children is important. And no religious organization is more important than its people, especially its children. And if protecting the organization and its leaders is more important than the innocence and lives of its children, then you belong to a cult.<br /><br /></span></div><div><span><b>In my kitchen...</b>toast and cold brew. Grilling tonight.<br /><br /></span></div><div><b>Wearing...</b>cute black pajamas.<br /><br /></div><div><b>Hoping...</b>for some more reading time.<br /><br /></div><div><span><b>Reading...</b>I </span>just started <i>The Keeper of Lost Things</i> by Ruth Hogan. </div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><b>Tonight...</b>UFC Fights. I have no idea who is fighting, but it's something The Doctor and the boys like to do together. So, we will have a fun family evening.<br /><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Quoting...</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16LO1bkmC8A9q92ptXqaIqkiYxEUZvPwNf-O6EylFWQ3uUUI4g-cCSWKNjGZ98kQEWl_Xg13hrh6WlOEOA2Wm68ZT-tiEeHjFaP8HLT1FSLaGHK6xKZhdrUufSX1RQGv9cJE2RSLi9YN4tSI3zFz5aKnfhOo1SeUicffVX0Cc8gKIJtPGDXMpbjLbFnmR/s984/FOTO_20230729_095903.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="948" data-original-width="984" height="616" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16LO1bkmC8A9q92ptXqaIqkiYxEUZvPwNf-O6EylFWQ3uUUI4g-cCSWKNjGZ98kQEWl_Xg13hrh6WlOEOA2Wm68ZT-tiEeHjFaP8HLT1FSLaGHK6xKZhdrUufSX1RQGv9cJE2RSLi9YN4tSI3zFz5aKnfhOo1SeUicffVX0Cc8gKIJtPGDXMpbjLbFnmR/w640-h616/FOTO_20230729_095903.jpg" width="640" /></a><span></span></div><br /><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.everydayspirit.net/">Source</a></span></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><b>Feeling...</b></span>it's interesting how memories affect us. Thoughts, flashbacks, things forgotten. That time and distance don't always matter, because memories and the emotions that come unbidden are often unexpected.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>July 20 was the day The Boy had his open-heart surgery. He was 6 days old. I don't often think of his birth or surgery day, but because it was his birthday month, those memories were at the forefront.</div><div><br /></div><div>I get flashbacks to his birth when I'm in the shower. That sounds strange, right? After they took him out of my room, I was determined to go with him. I had no idea at that point what the extent of his condition was. I didn't know if he would live or die, but one way or the other, I was going to that NICU. I got myself into the shower and I remember standing under the water, sobbing. Crying because my son had a heart condition; because I was exhausted and only about 6 hours post-partum; because I didn't know what the future held. A doctor came in to talk to me and helped me shower and dress and I will forever be grateful for her kindness and compassion. </div><div><br /></div><div>There are times I will be driving and have a flashback to driving home from the hospital. The day we thought we would bring him home and couldn't. So I left his car seat under his crib, because I refused to to take it out of the hospital without a baby in it. And I cried on the way home that evening. I have a distinct memory of driving on the Bay Bridge away from San Francisco and realizing that my day was shattered and everyone else was going about their own merry lives.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'd like to tell you that those memories are mild and the emotions attached have faded in their intensity. Some are, but some are still visceral in how they feel, even 25 years later.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Boy is 25. He's a good man. He's healthy and happy. And for all of that I am so grateful. I have a life time of memories with him; some happy, some sad. But I am so grateful for all of them.</div><div><br /></div><div><span><b>Planning...</b>we want to see <i>Oppenheimer</i>, because it looks amazing. And <i>Barbie</i>, because, Barbie. But, it's just finding the time to go. <br /></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span><b>Gratitude...</b><span style="color: black;">for iced coffee, air conditioning and grocery pick-up.<br /></span></span></div><div><span><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span><span style="font-weight: bold;">From my world... </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8fys1_QSC8NZ0DSBwR0YxJIEzPTVePN0Fd8twPHJfqjIi1Z1nKH5CkWpdg5yQzctTioyTeuWEIleywS8yy0Xu2I5B3Co69KHi3iy1BaYkdp-tpezBC1SR_1EXQLOIalGCqt7-j_Or8RakfADsDNfR8jQOwqqS8n5D2OFOAYliOxfmvEk709DyNjmNU8vt/s984/FOTO_20230617_172218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="963" data-original-width="984" height="391" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8fys1_QSC8NZ0DSBwR0YxJIEzPTVePN0Fd8twPHJfqjIi1Z1nKH5CkWpdg5yQzctTioyTeuWEIleywS8yy0Xu2I5B3Co69KHi3iy1BaYkdp-tpezBC1SR_1EXQLOIalGCqt7-j_Or8RakfADsDNfR8jQOwqqS8n5D2OFOAYliOxfmvEk709DyNjmNU8vt/w400-h391/FOTO_20230617_172218.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Signs work. Mostly. There's often a rando who thinks they're the exception or tries to say they didn't see it, but for the most part? Totally works.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>What about you? What are you reflecting on this week? How has your week gone?</b></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div><span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: none;" /></a></span></span></div></div></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-53666131188697945172023-07-26T06:00:00.001-06:002023-07-26T06:00:00.131-06:00Whimsy Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Plsp6XR9qutQv039KJ8AvvZpNrRJs7yQDC21g7kWwBi1JcCEsEO43sbicW96Xv5DIANU6Y9_UtWR8iTAN7JI03OsSqx4hGZuujnZJfQ7Gj8TepD-rf5moF_JVOnn3wRDVIemWE5tDbk5iwzRoObW0vqV1jzMUBbILgv6JI_G8joVMh9UmJFcgwf54w/s600/john_branch_john_branch_for_03012022_5_.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="600" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Plsp6XR9qutQv039KJ8AvvZpNrRJs7yQDC21g7kWwBi1JcCEsEO43sbicW96Xv5DIANU6Y9_UtWR8iTAN7JI03OsSqx4hGZuujnZJfQ7Gj8TepD-rf5moF_JVOnn3wRDVIemWE5tDbk5iwzRoObW0vqV1jzMUBbILgv6JI_G8joVMh9UmJFcgwf54w/w413-h279/john_branch_john_branch_for_03012022_5_.gif" width="413" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.realclearpolitics.com/cartoons/cartoons_of_the_week/2022/09/-4-john_branch-john_branch_for_03012022.html"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Source</span></i></a>.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297699931886361246.post-83390360528393520072023-07-21T06:00:00.001-06:002023-07-21T06:00:00.137-06:00Childhood Favorites...The Borrowers<i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SggCy5KyJbw/Vw5pcf7TnVI/AAAAAAAAN-o/2420fsExu9ww8zXusXvOA2aRlbsWS1-KACLcB/s1600/donald%2Bzolan%2Bquiet%2Btime.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SggCy5KyJbw/Vw5pcf7TnVI/AAAAAAAAN-o/2420fsExu9ww8zXusXvOA2aRlbsWS1-KACLcB/w200-h149/donald%2Bzolan%2Bquiet%2Btime.jpg" title="Donald Zolan, Quiet Time." width="200" /></a></div>Childhood favorites. Everyone has a favorite book or author from childhood. A book that touched them or changed them. A book that perhaps initiated their love of reading and put them on the path of libraries and learning.</i><div style="font-style: normal;"><i><br /></i><i>Childhood Favorites is a monthly series focusing on beloved books from the past. </i><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Have you ever had something go missing? An item you're certain you put away, but is no longer there? Perhaps it was borrowed?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5YxwlAohcC5g6WIXQksCDkG1X-nWfId25wf61G-6l_U4RWjKa9GN3QGk1-8i_WZlw47xGPC2p2ivb8tpnLU3fhUmYXvz-eE-9KEYfzGd9DcEeXcclAoAk_Cu4l2o0UiPr1IJTFGblfN49OmoI0TKbeLsR1PMJwlJo8LIQEo4bX8G2dUGl72y4nvxxFA/s474/348573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="318" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5YxwlAohcC5g6WIXQksCDkG1X-nWfId25wf61G-6l_U4RWjKa9GN3QGk1-8i_WZlw47xGPC2p2ivb8tpnLU3fhUmYXvz-eE-9KEYfzGd9DcEeXcclAoAk_Cu4l2o0UiPr1IJTFGblfN49OmoI0TKbeLsR1PMJwlJo8LIQEo4bX8G2dUGl72y4nvxxFA/s320/348573.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The Borrowers. Little people who live in the walls and under the floorboards of your house. And if they need something, they just borrow it. They stay clear of the "human beans" and instead, somewhat coexist.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Pod, Homily and Arrietty Clock live in a house, under the clock. Their beds are matchboxes, their serving trays are bottle caps. The prints on their walls? Postage stamps. They live their lives trying to avoid the human beans above. Until the day lonely Arrietty meets a boy in the house.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Imagination is so important for children and this series of books captured mine intensely. I adored this series as a child. And it stayed with me. I internalized it so much, that I still imagine that the scarf I can't find is probably now the new carpet in the Borrowers living room. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div></div></i><div>What about you? What is one of your childhood favorites?</div>
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/46/B8B88E2F560927363D43B0434262B1B8.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">©Holly B. of 2 Kids and Tired Books 2007-2014 All rights reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than <A HREF="www.2kidsandtiredbooks.blogspot.com">2 Kids and Tired Books</A> or <A HREF="http://feeds.feedburner.com/2KidsAndTiredBookReviews
">2 Kids and Tired Books Feed</A>, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.</div>Holly (2 Kids and Tired)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13075380878850295214noreply@blogger.com0