In Your Imagination

Reading Rainbow first aired in 1983, which placed me a little outside its intended demographic.  I watched it anyway—LeVar Burton wouldn’t laugh at me for having my nose stuck in a book, or tell me to put two of those library books back because I couldn’t see over the stack, or advise me with great exasperation to put that book down because I needed both hands to tie my shoes and the school bus was coming.*

He got it.  And he and his company wanted to help other kids get it.

The reason I’m bringing this up is that yesterday, a friend sent me a link to this and dared me not to smile for the rest of the day.

You win, lilygrif, and then some—thank you.

Did you know that there’s a free Reading Rainbow app for the iPad, now?  I didn’t.  Those of you with iPads and small children nearby (cough, Watson, cough) might want to see if your nieces those small children like it.

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*Okay, he might have done that last one, but he might not  have been quite as exasperated as Mom was.  Though to be fair, most of the time she ended up carrying an awful lot of library books for me (thanks, Mom).

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Random Thursday: Abbreviated Awards for Random Excellence

Short post, today, as I’m coming up on that deadline.  You know the one.

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Best New Catchphrase of the Week:

A few days ago, Sunny was walking around in her pink cowgirl hat and plastic Disney Cinderella heels, dragging her unicorn hobby-horse with her.

“I’m a cowgirl,” she said to my MIL.

“Really?  I don’t think cowgirls wear high heels to ride horses,” my MIL told her.

Sunny tilted back her hat, squinted up at her grandmother, and drawled,
“Some do.  Some don’t.”

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Best Two-Minute Short Film Ever:

Gumball Wars from Scott Thierauf on Vimeo.

See?  Wasn’t kidding.

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And the Award for the Best  Husband  Ever—Dune-Quoting Enabler Division—goes to:

I wrote until well-past midnight last night this morning—Lisa (aka First Reader of Awesomeness) is my witness, as I keep e-mailing her in the wee hours with the latest chunks of Pigeon,* and telling her I’m going to bed—and had to get up a little earlier than I’d planned to wait for the central air guy to look at our system while everyone else went off to summer camps, yoga classes, ladies’ meetings, or whatever it is they do while I’m hard at work providing the raw informational materials for a better, more literate democracy.**

I was okay with this, until I realized that the only diet Pepsi in the house was the half  bottle I’d left in the cupholder in my car. 

With dire predictions of the state I would be in when they returned, I schlepped off to my laptop to string words together. 

Two hours later, when I was trying to decide if combining the last respective bags of English Breakfast and Irish Breakfast teas would cure the pressure in my skull or start some sort of internecine warfare in the microwave, my husband returned.

With two 24-ounce six-packs of carbonated liquid gold.

“I love you,” I told them  him.

“He who controls the spice, controls the universe,” he said. “And they were on sale.”

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*Yeah, I know how that sounds.

**It’s true.  I can’t help it if people use the blank sides to scribble down Farmville cheat codes.

First Reader’s Blog and a Rad Bromance

I think I mention First Reader once or twice a week around here. for those of you who are new, I call her First Reader because she’s even better than a beta–she’s a plot-hole finder, life saver,  nag (in the best way), and a very good friend.

She’s also a supplier of Great Things to Read. She writes amazing paranormal YA and truly marvelous steampunk.  Her werewolf novel is being shopped around as we speak—in my opinion, it’s only a matter of time.

And now she has a blog: Semi-Educational Reviews.  It’s only about a week old, but it already features an interview with Tessa Dawn, author of Blood Destiny, and a restaurant review that’s making me crave woodfire-grilled pizza. 

Have a look!

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And now for a Rad Bromance:

I shamelessly swiped the vid from Smart Bitches, Trashy Books*  because, frankly, I am amazed.  I swiped the “Rad Bromance” thing from a YouTube comment because it’s absolutely perfect and risked my keyboard this morning.

Interesting fact:  Patrick Goble reminds me of my brother-in-law, in looks, humor, and creativity .  My BIL is a natural  entertainer (though no guitarist) who once worked out an arrangement of “How Much is that Doggie in the Window” for forklift-horn octet.  An Applause tattoo would not surprise anyone in the family.

Have a delightful weekend!

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*Who received it from Pam G.

 

Random Thursday: Sheep, Salad, and Silent Hallelujahs

The coordinator of the church Christmas Pageant e-mailed the cast list this morning.  Janie is a shepherd, which is a pretty good gig for someone who was the donkey last year* . . .  except Sunny is the sheep.

This was done on purpose—last year’s coordinator wanted Sunny to walk down the aisle with Zoe, another curly blonde child, in matching angel costumes.  Sunny declined, at the top of her voice, to be haloed, robed, or go anywhere near Zoe, who is a sweet kid but tends to ignore the personal space of smaller children until they fall over.

So it was hoped that being close to her sister this year would make Sunny more comfortable.  It seems to have worked—Sunny is very excited about being Janie’s sheep.  As her mother, though, I can’t help but think that my curly-headed little lamb is probably going to keep her shepherd on her toes . . .

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I’ve been humming the Hallelujah Chorus all day.  I could say it’s because I finally finished that stinkin’ chapter of my WIP and sent it off to First Reader last night—and this afternoon, she sent it back with a lot of lovely comments** that had me breathing a sigh of relief.

But really, it’s because my friend the Earworm King suggested that this might be a good way for librarians to bring a little holiday music into the workplace:

Since the library has always been my haven against the relentless, repetitive cheer that is Winter Holiday Music™, I’m gonna pass, thanks.   But if we ever have a talent show, I’m there with the signs!

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I just tucked Sunny into bed.  There’s nothing like a snuggle-hug from a warm, recently-bathed and shampooed kid in fleece footie jammies.

I said, “You smell really good.”

She said, “Like salad?”

I blinked. ” Salad?  you think salad smells good?”   I’ve never thought about salad smelling like anything much, except maybe green.  She didn’t smell green—her soap-paint is violently strawberry and purple grape, and her shampoo is orange cremesicle.

She nodded.  “I like salad.”

This is patently untrue.  She likes the idea of salad, since it’s a grown up food and she is determined to be a Big Girl.  But carrots and cucumbers are as far as she’s been willing to go, and even then you have to match her bite for bite in a crunch contest.  “You like salad?  Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

So I gave up and sang a song, for which she forgave me,  kissed her, kissed her bear, cocooned her in her quilt and afghan and left.  Then I turned around and came back.  “What kind of salad?”

Who knew a half-asleep three-year old could make the same tsk sound as her older sister?  “Fruit salad, Mommy.”

I’m not bright.  But I mean well.

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I have an hour and ten minutes left to make the writing goal part of my pre-resolutions today.

I think the extra chapter of Clementine with Janie and the extra snuggle with the fruit salad was well worth the time—but now it’s a wastin’.

Ciao, y’all.

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*And who stole the show with her single line, which she projected at exactly the wrong time to great comedic effect:

Zoe, around her favorite thumb: “Feaw not! For I bing you glad tide-lings of gweat joy!”

Janie: “HEE-HAW!!!!!”

**And, yes, a few that made my slap my forehead and wonder why I cling to the notion that English is my native tongue.   And why I still try to have my characters handle guns when it has been made very clear to me that I have some kind of natural anti-talent in this area . . .  But she always phrases things in a way that never makes me wonder why I’m still writing.  That, my friends, is why she’s First Reader and I’m damned lucky.