J and P have both reached a height, weight and maturity level that would qualify them to make the move from car seat to booster seat. I have resisted this move for many reasons.
At first is was just that I needed to wait for P to be mature enough to handle the switch because she was so close in size to J, that I couldn't really make the switch without switching both, but she wasn't old enough to handle the responsibility of sitting still without the restraining presence of the five-point harness.
Then my excuse was that I wasn't sure how to adjust the seating so that all the boosters (M and E are still in backless boosters) had shoulder belts, but there was still room for the fifth child to sit and everyone had easy access to the buckles. I still haven't completely resolved this, but I think I have a plan that will work.
Today, P put to rest my last excuse.
As she and J buckled themselves into the car P said, "You know mom, even if J and I get boosters, we'll still be your babies."
* Three down, two (kids) to go. With the flu, that is. M and P went back to school today and E stayed home. The doctor's office was out of the flu test and the pharmacy is having to reorder the med for the second or third time this week. You could say the flu is going around. (I don't even want to think about what happens if this hits the three adults in the house.)
* After nearly two weeks, my master shower will be finished today and I'll be able to use it as early has tomorrow morning. It's so pretty and clean, I don't know if I want to use it. (Have I ever told you I'm a little obsessed with new?)
* J's separation anxiety continued into the beginning of school. On the first day of school he ran down the hall after me. Luckily for me he waited to do this until I was out of the building or I'd have lost it. On the second day of school he cried when I tried to leave him at the door to his classroom. It was traumatic enough that the teacher across the hall (who happens to be our neighbor) had to scoop him into his classroom so his teacher could close the door and I could leave. On the third day of school, I dropped him at the curb with a picture of me in his pocket (his request) and all was well. He took great care of that tiny picture for a few days and then it went through the washer. He has not asked for a replacement. (Is it okay that I'm a bit sad that he's over it?)
Realized that the way you have been doing a particular task for years - maybe decades - is not the right way? Learned that, despite having seen signs that maybe your way was not the accepted method, your method was not only wrong, but might have disastrous consequences? Accepted this new order of things only after having been confronted by an expert and performed an Internet search for verification? Come to realize that your incorrect method was due in part to never having been taught the correct way, but also due to the fact that you never made an effort to read the instructions?
Today we celebrate the birth of M and E. They are 9. The last year they will enjoy single digits. E asked me today what time she was born. I had to think about it. Is it bad that the thought process was something like this? Your dad said M was born at 11:17, but the doctors corrected him and said 11:16, you came 23 minutes later (yes that's a long time between twins, just enough time to run down the hall from delivery to OR for a c-section, yes that means I had one of each and yes, it was still easier than delivering C) so that means you were born at 11:39.
I find that I have a hard time remembering the details of the day they were born, so I'm going to write it down (no, I haven't written it down before now, yes, that makes me a bad mom).
M and E were due on July 10, but by doctors told me early on that they would not let me go a day past 39 weeks, just to be safe. My doctors were also quite surprised that I made it passed 38 weeks, so when I reminded them about their 39 week promise at my appointment eleven days before my due date (a Friday afternoon), I seemed to catch them a bit of guard. But the midwife quickly checked with the doctor and they agreed, not a day past 39 weeks, and checked the schedule for the following Monday. All booked up, they could not add another induction. So they checked Sunday and the doctor on call for Sunday was also on call that Friday night and said just send her over now. So off we went -- me, my mom and C -- to get checked in at the hospital. We called the Husband and he met us there.
It took a little while to get me in a room and the actual work of starting the induction didn't really get started until late that night. The nurses offered an epidural almost as soon as the started the pitocin. I don't know why I didn't take, but I didn't. As the contractions started to build I asked for something, got it and all was good, until I started to feel teh contractions but couldn't get the Husband's attention. I thought I was talking out loud, but apparently wasn't and he was asleep and didn't notice my pain. I was finally able to get his attention and he got the nurses and I got my epidural. And all was right with the world. I slept for several hours and then around 8 am, it looked like things were getting started. I called my mom and told her it was time and she should head to the hospital with C.
A little before 11, the nurses and midwife came in to transfer me to the OR, where they usually did twin deliveries, mostly because it was bigger, so there was more room for two sets of nurses and baby stuff, and a little bit for Just In Case. But then the doctor walked in and said, "We don't need to mover her, she's in the big delivery room. There's room for everyone." And then it was time to push and between contractions the doctor and midwife were discussing where they were going for lunch. It was quite surreal, espcially compared to the chaos that was C's delivery.
And then M was here and it was instantly obvious that she was destined to the older twin. We had decided as soon as we knew we had two girls that the oldest (Baby A, who had spent the entire pregnancy head down and claiming the first place in line) would be named after my mother's family and sure enough, she looked just like my mom's sister. 7 lbs 12.6 oz, 18 inches.
The midwife let me have a quick peek at M and then began checking on Baby B. I could see a flash of panic and she said, "I think I have cord." And I had visions of Nurse Hathaway's twin delivery on ER earlier that year, and well, if you've seen that episode you can imagine my own panic. The doctor took over and after a few minutes of feeling around decided, we were okay, it wasn't the cord, it was two hands and a foot. Baby B had folded in half, feet to face, and refused to stretch out. Although she wasn't in any distress, it was decided that it would be safer to proceed with a c-section rather than wait forever waiting for the baby to decide to stretch out and come out head first.
So the nurses and midwife packed me up and we did the quick run down the hall for a not-quite-emergency c-section. (Oh, the irony)
The new pain meds they put in my epidural made me shiver and shake until I was sure I was going to fall off the operating table. And then E was out and all was right with the world. I only got a quick peek at her before they whisked her away and stitched me back up. My first impression of E was that her cheeks almost met below her chin. She was all cheeks and looked like the Husband's side of the family. 7 lbs 13.6 oz, 18 inches.
I was in the recovery room for quite a while getting over the shaking, but finally made it up to my room where the girls were waiting for me, as well as C and my mom.
We came home from the hospital on July 4th. Best 4th ever!
My kids have been out of school for a month. They return to school in six weeks.
Saturday while I was out filling prescriptions and grocery shopping I saw two things that really blew my mind.
First, Target has the school uniforms (you know, the khaki and blue pants and shorts and white collared shirts) prominently displayed. Second, Walmart has begun setting up the bins in the middle of the aisles that have all the most requested school supplies (pencils, pens, highlighters, glue sticks, crayons, etc.) Neither place has any signage that says anything about school, but the displays say it all.
* Second fastest way to get your kid seen in the ER - severe headache. 30 minutes after our arrival we were ushered to a room, when it looked like some families had been waiting for hours. Less than 20 minutes later they were giving her a CAT scan and we were on our way home before we'd been there 2 hours. Diagnosis: Acute Sinusitis. Treatment: 14 days of the nastiest tasting antibiotic out there.
* Marshall Karp wrote to me!! A few weeks ago I commented on a post on his blog. He read my comment and then responded. And he checked out my blog. The last post in which I talked about his books. How cool is that? I am, however, a bit embarrassed that there were several typos/mistakes in that post.
*J recently went through a bit of separation anxiety - clinging, crying, running after the car when I left. So when he was still asleep when I left for work one day last week, I was prepared to receive a tearful phone call from him. Sure enough, he called when I was half way to work. But instead of the tearful "love ya, miss ya, why didn't you wake me before you left, I didn't get to hug you" I was expecting I got, "When is it my turn on the computer?" I guess we are through with that phase.
* Friday when M couldn't move with the pain in her head causing her to scream, I jokingly asked her if she felt like she was dying. Her reply, "That would be better than this."
I am still working on my book resolution. okay, not so much the reading of Dean Koontz, but more the reading of Stuart Woods.
I picked up Chiefs: A Novel (25th Anniversary Edition) at the library*, and I was right. It is a fabulous book. Definitely one I would recommend. I also picked up Shoot Him If He Runs (Stone Barrington) at the library. This is one of the novels by Stuart Woods that I have been tempted to buy, but didn't want to in case is wasn't up to par. While it was no where near the level of Chiefs, it was definitely better than Hot Mahogany. I still need to read Loitering with Intent and Mounting Fears to be caught up with all his new novels, plus Hothouse Orchid will be out in September. (For those who may be counting, that's FOUR novels released in one year.**)
Three books that I did not pick up at the library are the novels by Marshall Karp. I won a signed copy of Karp's third novel Flipping Out from Beth, which meant I really needed to read the first two books so that . . . well I'm just a bit nuts that way, so I purchased The Rabbit Factory and Bloodthirsty from Amazon, which only made sense, because if they were as good as Chris reported they were, then I really was going to want them in my collection and the library didn't have them, I checked. So The Rabbit Factory was excellent - funny, well plotted, great characters. And even though there are reportedly over 200 uses of the F-word, you don't really notice so much because the book is over 600 pages. Bloodthirsty was also a good read, but I was left a little unimpressed with Flipping Out. As the story wrapped up I felt a bit lost as to how Lomax and Biggs had figured it all out. The story also felt a bit flat, with out the great details and humor that had made The Rabbit Factory so enjoyable. Karp is working on a fourth installment which I cannot wait to read.
I also recently read The Mephisto Club (Jane Rizzoli, Book 6) by Tess Gerritsen. I am really enjoying her books. (And not really feeling the need to read them in order, I'm a little late to the party for that.) This one was intriguing with good characters and a very unexpected twist. I will definitely keep Tess on my reading list.
And lastly, my most recent read (just finished it this afternoon), Odd Mom Out by Jane Porter. I won this book over at It's Not All Mary Poppins a few weeks ago. This is a story of a single-by-choice mom who is trying to figure out how to have everything she wants and be the mother her daughter wants her to be without losing herself. I enjoyed this story but felt like the end was a bit rushed. I will be adding Jane Porter to my list for the library.
*As an aside, I'm doing somewhat better about going to the library for books rather than buying everything I want to read. I did buy The Navigator (The Numa Files) by Clive Cussler at the store because it was on the bargain table and really $7 for a hardback book that I'll be able to read at least twice before I remember I'll remember half of the plot.
** For those who may think I'm just picking on Stuart Woods, yes, I know that Clive Cussler has has four books being released this year, but 1) he has co-authors and 2) the quality has not deteriorated as drastically.
I'm sitting here watching the wind whip through the palm trees outside my hotel room.
The sky is grey, the ocean is choppy and being pushed parallel to the beach almost as fast as the waves are coming in. It's a bit visually disturbing.
I am tagging along with my husband who is here for a conference. I was hoping for a little sun, a chance to capture new images that would be suitable for my etsy shop, to relax and rejuvenate before the kids get out of school for the summer.
Early this morning, when the house was quiet and I was checking my email and reading blogs and enjoying my last few moments of peace before waking the kids for school, a very large daddy-long legs slowly dropped from the ceiling above my keyboard until he came to rest between my typing hands.
I decided that peace and quiet was overrated and Miss Muffet had the right idea.
Now the daddy long legs is camped out on the ceiling above my computer again. I sure he is just waiting to drop in again and make me run away screaming.
About a month ago, the local Chick-fil-A closed for renovations. Not noteworthy, unless your youngest child lives on Chick-fil-A and Taco Bell. And not really a life-changing event considering there are 3 other Chick-fil-As with in 10 miles of my house.
The Chick-fil-A reopened this week. The crowds that have flocked to eat more chicken have been unbelievable. And while the renovation is very nice (they now have what P calls "high tables"), it feels like there are fewer places to sit.
But mostly, I was disappointed that they did not make any changes to the play area. Heck, it would appear that they didn't even CLEAN the play area.
E: Mom! You really need to come see what P did. (E is my informer)
Me: Ugh. Do I really want to know?
E: Probably not.
Me: Ugh. Am I going to want to spank her?
E: Probably, yeah.
I trudge up the stairs and enter my room, where P has taken her fudge bar, when she knows she is supposed to eat it in the kitchen, to see chocolate on my winter comforter that The Husband took off the bed, but did not put away in the closet.
Griffin has written several series of novels, most revolving around the military world and I have read nearly all of them (never could get into the Honor Bound series), most more than once. Although filled with details and acronyms that can become confusing, and enough characters that you might need to keep track of them on a 3x5 card (thanks for the tip, Mrs. Houghton, world's greatest English teacher and master sentence diagram-er), each novel is filled with action and suspense.
Do I believe the military really runs this way? Um, I hope not. Do I enjoy the stories Griffin tells? Immensely. (Are you getting tired of this question-answer writing style? Me too.)
Until I saw this book on the shelf at Target I had never heard of Kathleen Tessaro, but the vibrant red caught my attention and the simple title drew me to read the blurb on the back and the next thing I knew I was paying for it. (We'll have a discussion at a later date about books and covers and what "they" say.)
And after read the first chapter or two, I almost took it back. The number of times the F-word was used in those first few pages was more than I wanted to deal with. Really, I'm not a prude, but garbage-in-garbage-out, you know and since I'm trying to clean-up my language . . . . but then one of the kids stepped on it and crinkled the pages, so I read on, and the language in the book was only occasionally foul.
The story has a pretty original story-line, following a newly-hired professional flirt - rule #1 absolutely no physical contact. It was light and easy to read, the short chapters moved the story along quickly. Will it make my list of "fabulous books" that I share with others? Probably not.
Will I consider picking up the previous two of Tessaro's novels if I see them on clearance or find them at the library? Sure.
A few months ago I decided to try making Brownie Cups - brownies as cup cakes - in hopes of avoiding the crispy edges and having only yummy soft brownies. I tried spraying the cup cake pan with baking spray rather than using the paper cups. Disaster. The brownies stuck to the sides and I had to pry them out with a knife, destroying the brownies and scratching my cup cake pans (don't worry, they aren't expensive pans).
Last week I tried again, but this time I made mini cup cakes and used the paper liners. This seemed to work great. I didn't taste them, because I used a milk chocolate brownie mix (yes, I said mix, I've never found a recipe that makes a brownie I like better than the mix), and milk chocolate brownies are just wrong. But they did come out of the papers easily enough.
Next I tried full size cup cakes. I was unsure of how long to cook them, and ended up giving them too much time in the oven. I held the kids off long enough to let the brownie cups cool completely, but then disaster struck again. The papers would not come off. I had to pick and peel and was not able to salvage some of them. Conclusion - you can't let them cool completely, but try to peel the papers too soon and half the brownie sticks to the paper.
I tried again yesterday, thinking I had all the kinks worked out, but I got distracted while making them and swapped the measurements for the oil and water (and very nearly added an extra egg), which made enough of a difference to make the experience useless in terms of learning anything new.
Now I am out of brownie mix. Further experimentation will have to wait until I can get to the store.
And I'm sure you are dying to know why I need to perfect these Brownie Cups. No reason, really, other than to prove that I can. Now if I could show this sort of dedication to fixing dinner.
On Saturday while M and I where at Market Day, the Husband and the other kids decided to clear a path to the creek that runs beside our house. To this point the house rule has been DO NOT GO INTO THE TREES, DO NOT GO DOWN TO THE WATER. However the Husband decided that this need no longer be the rule and set to making a way for our kids to venture to the water.
Which they did for a while until screams and pounding feet alerted us to an apparent tragedy.
TICK!!! On J's neck," they screamed as they scrambled into the house.
Not to worry. I have completed the Boy Scout First Aid Merit Badge. I know what to do with a tick.
"Credit Card." I demanded. I tried to push the tick out by scraping it with the edge of a credit card. Didn't work. Okay, maybe I'm confused. Maybe the credit card was for bee stings and slivers. On to tweezers, but don't squeeze too hard, pull firmly, but gently . . . okay not working . . . and I'm starting to hyperventilate and get all squeamish.
The husband completed the tick removal and sealed the tick in a plastic bag to be placed in the freezer, just in case we need to have it tested later, while I began searching the other kids for ticks and throwing them into showers and clothing into the laundry.
C calmly waited for his turn in the shower, only to return un-showered with a TICK!!! on his hip. I tried to be the brave mom again, but failed and let The Husband remove the second tick of the day.
J and E have vowed to stay out of the woods for a week. They aren't even going to play outside.
Fine by me, because the previous rule has been reinstated. DO NOT GO INTO THE TREES . . . unless you are wearing a thick layer of bug spray.
I'm too tired to make this into a real post, but I also really want this dress for P so I'm telling you about the Spring has Sprung Giveaway from Amy Quarry, not so you'll enter, cause that would mean I'd have less of a chance of winning, but maybe you could check out her shop on etsy and find something you'd love to have.
So Amy, I've blogged it, twittered it and facebooked it. Does that me I get three chances to win?
The dryer is squeaking. The dryer has been squeaking for months. The dryer is driving me to the very brink of sanity. It is the one thing in the house that could break without making me cry, but no, it must continue to work despite the continual SQUEEEEEAKING! There is no escape. I close the door to the laundry room, I hide in the basement, but the squeaking follows me. I'm developing a twitch.
So if I'm not around for a while, you may safely assume that I have found quiet in a small padded room.
-- P did not get into Pre-K at the elementary school. She is #7 on the waiting list. There were tears - all mine.
-- The van died. Thankfully after we got home from taking the scouts to a Merit Badge day and not "on the way." The repair bill was just under what we were willing to pay to keep it going.
-- We discovered a mildew stain on the ceiling of the garage, right below the drain of the master shower. The plumbers say it is a very small leak, but the only way to fix it requires tearing out the floor of the shower and the bottom row of tile, but that trying to patch the tile after that would lead to a less than stellar look, so basically the whole shower will have to ripped out - down to the studs. Initial estimates also led to tears. On the plus side, the home owners insurance will help out a bit and I can probably change the color of the tile.
-- After 6 test patches I think I have finally found a color for the basement that I really like. Now to find the time to paint, preferably without 5 little helpers.
Beth, of So the Fish Said has a well documented "crush" on the Hotty Pediatrician she takes her kids to.
While my kids pediatrician may not be gorgeous he can do something that is way more important . . . .
My latest trip to his office took only 40 minutes. I know you're thinking that's not so special, but I mean the whole trip took only 40 minutes, from my house and back again, and it's a 15 minute drive.
That's right folks. Only 10 minutes in the doctor's office. I had barely paid my copay before they called us back and the pediatrician entered the exam room within 2 minutes of the time the nurse left. Check the ears, right the prescription (yes, he wrote it this time, no more of the time wasting fax - maybe he reads my blog), and off we go.
I know you are green with envy and no, I won't give you his name.
I have had a twitch at the corner of my right eye for EIGHT days now. It varies in strength and sometimes I think, "Thank heavens it's stopped," only for it to kick in again even stronger.
I forgot to mention it to my chiropractor (aka voodoo doctor aka Dr. Jeff) which is very sad because he probably could have done some kind of magic to fix it (really he's that good) and now he's on vacation for a week and I won't be able to see him until a week after that when he's back on my side of town (unless I make the drive to his office on the other side of the city which is not my idea of fun) but if this doesn't stop soon I might loose my ever-loving mind, so a trip through traffic might not be a bad thing . . . if this goes on for another week I'd probably crawl across glass if it meant getting this darn twitch to stop!
Is it wrong that I'm more than a bit excited about the new store coming to my area when they've only cleared the land and put up a "coming soon" sign, and I've never even been inside this store?
I have seen commercials (yes, advertising works on me. Why do you think we have a Pontiac Montana? Well, cause they called it Montana and because they have cowboys in the commercials). And it just sounds like a fun place.
So what is this grand place of which I am dreaming? Not an IKEA (been there, done that, love it). . . . .
There are currently 10 books in the Hannah Swensen Mystery series. Each mystery some how involves food and Fluke includes all the recipes for the yummy stuff she describes.
This is the second Hannah mystery I've read and both have been pleasant, easy reads. The plots are easy to follow and you don't feel like the mystery was solved with some leap of logic that you weren't let it on.
The cast of characters can be a bit difficult to keep track of because the family trees in this small town often intertwine, but you can always keep track of things on a note card if you get too confused.
I have picked up another in the series and am making a list of the recipes I want to try.
I received this book for Christmas and read it while on vacation.
I first heard of the newest Dean Koontz novel when I saw the commercial . My first thought was, "I really hope the book is better than the commercial," followed closely by, "A commercial for a book? Not sure I've ever seen that before." (Have you?)
I was prepared for a fabulous read since Koontz's last several novels have been spectacular. I was a bit disappointed. The jacket text makes you think the main character is being haunted by the woman whose heart he received and that he fights hard to win back his girl. But in truth the plot is less suspenseful and far more tedious. At points it had the makings of a great suspense novel with a supernatural twist that at which Koontz is so masterful, but he choose the easier path and finished the book with a whimper.
I go through phases when it comes to buying or borrowing books. I have been in a buying phase for a very long time, which means I hadn't been to the new library in town. Since we are trying to stick to a budget, I figured an easy place to trim would be my book spending. Today I went back to the library looking for a couple of specific books.
First I wanted Jane Eyre. I have read it, but not since middle school and I remember not being very impressed, but after reading The Eyre Affair: A Thursday Next Novel by Jasper Fforde (review coming soon) I felt like I should give Jane Eyre another chance. I also wanted the book that comes after The Eyre Affair as well as Great Expectations (which figures heavily in the other book I wanted and which I have never read).
I was disappointed in my efforts. Jane Eyre was checked out, and although the library does have other books by the author of The Eyre Affair, it did not have the one I wanted (must read them in order says my OCD). I did find Great Expectations.
While there, I thought I'd look for Chiefs by Stuart Woods so I could keep working on my resolution, but I couldn't find where the M-Z fiction continued and I already had a stack of five books, so maybe next time.
While checking out, I was surprised to find that I had a $15 late fee dating back to 2006 (I said it had been a while since I'd been to the library, and maybe this is the reason I started a buying phase). Thankfully the nice librarian let me check out books even though I didn't have the cash to pay the fine. If she hadn't I probably would have come right home and continued my buying phase.
In this house we have several places with three light switches. Next to the bed - reading light, main light, fan. In the bathroom - main light, shower light, fan. By the garage - outdoor light, garage light, hall light. In most cases, the person who wired the switches didn't put much thought into which switch worked what, so the use of the switches is not intuitive. For example, the shower light is wired to the switch closet to the door, the main light is the center switch and the fan is closet to the shower.
Since the day we moved in we (okay, maybe mainly me) have been bothered by these switches. In most cases, I still flip the wrong switch when trying to turn on lights even though we lived here for almost four years. (Yes, I know, it is not difficult to switch the wires, but take a look around you own home and see what you've been living with even though it's an easy fix.)
Finally, the Husband began working on correcting these wiring errors. He started with the bathroom switch. Finally the bank of switches is wired in a manner that is intuitive and logical.
And finally my brain completed the wiring necessary to remember which switch turns on which light . . . only a few weeks too late.
From the book jacket . . . "If you thought MitchMcDeere was in trouble in The Firm, wait until you meet Kyle McAvoy, THE ASSOCIATE.
From that one sentence I hoped we be returned to the John Grisham legal novels of old, like The Firm or The Pelican Brief. I have been a tad disappointed in his most recent legal offerings, The Appeal, The Broker, probably as far back as The Brethren(although maybe that one is okay and I'm confusing it with a Stuart Woods novel that had a similar idea). I felt like Grisham would rather be writing the other things, Skipping Christmas, The Painted House, Bleachers, Playing for Pizza - all of which I loved, and was writing the legal thrillers only to fulfill a contract or something.
The Associate has a story that could have been up there with The Firm and others, but it was a bit slow to get started and when I finally felt like it was about to get exciting, the story fizzled. It ended too easily, too cleanly with no real payoff.
Now again, I'm asking myself if I'm giving credit were maybe none is due. Because really, if I think of The Firm of The Pelican Brief, I think of the movies. So maybe the books wouldn't not stand up to my memory up them. I will have to reread a few of them. I 'll let you know what I discover.
While walking through WalMart today, P disappeared around a corner.
"Where are you?" I called.
"Here in the flowers," she replied.
When I found her she said, "I will need flowers for my wedding."
"Okay," I said as we continued.
We walked through the baby clothing looking for a pair of khaki pants for P. (She likes to dress in the same colors as I am lately. But she doesn't have anything close to the khaki pants I usually wear to work.)
"My baby will like this. He will look nice in this."
"Which baby?" I ask, thinking she must be talking about her cousin E or her best friend's baby sister.
"My baby. I will call him Andeen. I will make him a pink blanket like mine and he will love it."
"Okay." I said and we continued on.
While looking for detergent P asked, "When can I get married?"
"You should wait until you're at least 20," and we continued on to find watermelon.
"Maybe I will name my baby P. She can be just like me."
"I will need a wedding dress."
"We'll find a beautiful dress when you get married, but it's going to be a while before you get married. You should finish school first."
. . . . .
Apparently P is already planning her wedding. Only 4 years and 1 month old.
I had planned to start rereading Woods' novels at the beginning, but I found Choke (1995) at work in the spot where people leave books and magazines for others to take, so I figured I read it.
And I discovered something very comforting. Stuart Woods was, at one time, a good writer. I was really feeling like I was dreaming it. (And don't think I haven't noticed that he has yet another new novel out - it is taking every ounce of will power to not order it. I am helped by the fact that there is a new Spellman Files coming soon and I've preordered the new Grisham.)
Choke is the story of a tennis pro who ends up in Key West and mixed up with the wrong woman, who decides he'd make a great fall guy for her plans. The plot is intriguing and full of twists, but I never felt lost or like the author had made a leap he couldn't back up. Woods' writing isn't flowery, but this story was enjoyable.
So while I wouldn't put it on the list of books I tell everyone to read, it is a Stuart Woods book I'd recommend.
I was pleased to see you, rather than the nurse practitioner again, this morning. Although having a sick child is never pleasant, knowing that I will not have to wait forever in the waiting room at your office is one of the main reasons I love your practice. What mother wouldn't love leaving the pediatricians at 9:52 am from a 9:30 am appointment?
However, I am a bit disappointed that it took you (or your staff) 45 minutes to fax my daughter's prescription to the pharmacy. I understand that you have a new nifty computer thingy that allows you to fax my prescription directly to the pharmacy and that it is paperless and so much easier, but if you don't bring it into the room with you how can it help me. When I leave your office with a child who needs a prescription I am headed directly to the pharmacy. If you won't give me a written prescription, please do me the courtesy of faxing my prescription over immediately, preferably before I leave the building (which you could do if you brought your nifty computer thingy in the room with you) so that I don't have to wait 45 minutes at the pharmacy only to be told they still have not received the fax and it will be at least another hour before it's ready even if it came right this very second.
Dragon Tears, published in 1993, is the story of a perfectionist police detective being stalked by a "hulking street person (who) prophesies that Harry will be dead by dawn, the self-destructs before his eyes. As twilight falls, Harry . . . finds his rational world transformed into a place of bizarre surprises and unimaginable dangers. As dawn ticks closer, Harry is caught in a whirlwind of terror that threatens to sweep away not only him but Connie and everyone he loves" (from the book jacket).
I had read this one before, although the only reason I know this is because I own it. I did not remember anything that happened after the first chapter. So whole new book for me. While not quite at the level of his latest works (The Husband and The Good Guy, for example) and not quite as memorable, obviously, as my favorites (Lighting, Watchers), this was solid and enjoyable. The end wrapped up a little quickly for my tastes, but otherwise a good read. It probably wouldn't make my reread list again any time soon, but won't be given away either.
Next time the kids make the really good stapler disappear because they have broken it but don't want to fess up because they know they will be in trouble because they shouldn't have been playing with it in the first place and then you have to buy a new stapler so the kids can complete their projects at home and not have to ask a teacher to borrow the stapler minutes before the project is complete . . . . . . don't just buy a cheap stapler because you are sure the really good stapler will turn up any day, when really you know that "any day" will be the day you move and that the good stapler is most likely broken, spend some money and get another REALLY good stapler so that you don't find yourself cussing the cheap stapler and blogging about it.
We recently provided a long-lost friend and his family with over-night accomadations. It was great to catch up with this friend and meet his family. His girls took to my kids immediately. We had a great time at dinner and rocked the house (ala Rock Band) well past my kids' bedtimes.
And they left the best hostest gift ever. Chocolate.
But not just any chocolate. Chocolates by Mr. Roberts. These chocolates were so delicious I had to beat my family off with a stick (okay, really I shared, but not happily). Our box was filled with assorted truffles and everyone was visually tempting and scrumptous.
And to add to my joy - they have a website for easy ordering although I will probably have to call so I can ask for a box filled with my favorites.
You remember that time you left me at the library . . . oh, wait, you don't remember. Well I'll start again. You remember that time you dropped me off at the library, I was 9ish, to research a project for school and you said you'd pick me up in an hour and then it got all dark and stormy and I was a bit nervous because you hadn't come back to get me yet and then when I started to tear up a bit the librarian asked if I needed to use the phone and when I called home and asked where you were coming to pick me up, you asked why you would pick me up when I was only across the street and I said because I was at the library and you asked how I got there and I said you dropped me off and you said no you hadn't, but came to get me anyway . . . yeah, remember how I give you a hard time about that even to this day?
Well, I am sorry for not letting it go. Let's just say that on Saturday, the house was really quiet and I looked all over the house for two kids and was just starting to panic when I remembered that the two children in question had gone over to the neighbors to play . . . four hours previously. Yeah, so sorry.
Maybe it's just me, but sometimes (okay, a lot of times) I read a book, and it's great and I love it, but a month later you can ask me about it and I can't really tell you much about the book, but I do know it was good and well . . . I've always just written it off to the fact that I read so many books that the details fade. The up side is that I can often reread a book with only a mild sense of deja vu.
A few nights ago, the Hubby and I were discussing the works of one of our favorite authors, Dean Koontz. We were trying to remember which book was the one with the blob under the city and I couldn't figure out which book had the people that became connected to computers, and whether Mr. Murder was a bad as I thought or as good as he thought.
So resolution the first is to reread the works of Dean Koontz (without buying the ones I don't already own, because if I don't like them, why own them -- library here I come, I hope I don't have a fine I've forgotten about). I will also reread the works of Stuart Woods, starting from the beginning, to determine if I've attributed better writing to him or whether it's always been a bit iffy.
There are a few of Koontz's books I will not have to reread because I know whether I like them or not. So here's a quick review of the best and the worst, in my opinion, of Dean Koontz.
Lighting - Possibly the best Koontz book ever. Always the one I recommend to friends that have never read Koontz. Time travel, Germans, love - what's not to love.
Watchers - Tied for best book ever by Koontz. Read this one second.
The Mask - Not one of my favorites. The first time I read it I was okay with it, but the second time I read it, it really freaked me out.
Intensity - My least favorite Koontz book. In fact I never made it past the first few chapters. Koontz started by getting you to really be invested in a character (he's good, it doesn't take long to get you to like a character) and then he killed her off, graphically. My mother, who had already read it, said it didn't change much after that, so I didn't waste my time.
All of the newer books are good - The Face, The Taking, The Husband, The Good Guy, The Darkest Evening of the Year, Life Expect ency, By the Light of the Moon, One Door Away From Heaven, From the Corner of His Eye, Odd Thomas, Forever Odd, Brother Odd, Odd Hours (although this last one felt more like a intro to the next book in the Odd series rather a a stand alone book), Fear Nothing and Seize the Night.
I'll give you my take on each as I read them beginning with Dragon Tears (because I have that one).