January 15, 2001
Books and Sofas

Today's Pic
It's not every day that one receives such a perfect opportunity for an "I told you so."
One year ago (or thereabouts): It's not cancer!

Click, Clack, MooSo, guess whose favorite picture book was picked as a Caldecott Honor Book, despite all of her colleagues' arguments to the contrary? Ahem. Congratulations, Click, Clack, Moo!

A rather large part of me almost wishes that I could face all those librarians who thought this book wasn't good enough just so I could laugh, laugh, laugh. I'm also quite happy that So You Want To Be President came away as the winner, since it was also one for which I had fought and against which the other librarians had argued. Not interesting enough? Ha!

I'd make a great member of the Caldecott panel. Only one of the books that I truly didn't like managed to get an award. This particular treatment of Casey at the Bat didn't ring any bells for me; still, I don't mind so much that it won, especially considering that I was so pleased with the other winners.

I was also quite proud that I had purchased, in some cases multiple copies, all of the winners of the Printz Award for young adult books. Somehow I knew that Angus was going to walk away with an award; British humor, in the manner of Bridget Jones, is all the rage right now.

Hey, and while we're on the subject of great books and British humor, I just finished the most wonderful new novel. Mind you, I've been shockingly off novels for quite a while now, having devoted much of the last few years to pregnancy, childbirth, and computer books. Over Christmas vacation, I decided that it was past time to find myself some wonderful new adult fiction, and I loaded my bag with some potential candidates.

I just finished Inconceivable this morning, and I tell you that I haven't enjoyed a book this much in a long, long time. Of course, the subject, a couple trying desperately to conceive their first child, struck particularly close to home (as I kept yelling to Eric between belly laughs, "We've had this argument! This is us!"), but the humor was simply brilliant. I highly recommend this one, especially to anybody who's had trouble trying to have a baby. Even Eric, Mr. Anti-Fiction himself, seemed interested in reading it. The language is a bit coarse, but nothing that I felt detracted from the whole. Great stuff, really.


We bought a sofa this weekend. While it wasn't the baby dresser/changing table that I'd hoped to purchase, and it wasn't the house that I'd hoped to find, it was nonetheless a critical need. Our current sofa is the one with which Eric grew up; his parents gave it to us when they moved into their new house. The middle began to bow year ago, and at this point is almost touching the floor. I certainly didn't relish the thought of trying to get up from that piece of furniture in a few months.

The new sofa is a Bassett, mission-style, with wooden arms and a southwestern-style print. It's also a sleeper, which might come in handy should my mother decide to stay with us when the baby comes. We got a positively obscene mark-down on the price due to a small chip in the finish on the side of one of the arms, so we could hardly pass up the bargain. Eric now says that he intends to completely furnish our future house in scratch-and-dent furniture, and I'm inclined to agree.

We also did make a little headway on the house issue, I think. We don't have anything concrete, as Eric wasn't particularly fond of the one house at which we actually got to take a look, but I spoke to a gentleman on the phone last night regarding a small house for rent in the pretty little community right next to Eric's plant. The house sounds just about ideal, and the landlord seemed quite nice; we talked for a long time about the particulars. He's already got several applications and isn't taking any more just yet, but he told me that if nothing worked out, he'd give me a call right away. Perhaps I'm deluding myself, but I think I could almost gather from his tone that he hoped he'd be able to give me that call; he seemed quite interested in Eric and me.

Eric, naturally, interpreted what he could hear of the conversation rather differently. "What on earth was up with all the life-story talk?" he said after I hung up.

"He's just a really nice landlord who likes to really know whether the people he rents to - "
"Will be sausage or chops?"
"You probably caught his attention since you're pregnant. Mmmm, yummy baby!"


Storytime went well tonight. You know, I find it so difficult to enthusiastically present books that don't interest me personally. Every once in a while, on the recommendation of another librarian, I'll give it a shot, but the kids seem to pick up on my vibe or something. Tonight, trying to read Why Not? to the two-year-olds, was such an instance. I find this book utterly boring, and so did the kids. The other, more enthralled group of two-year-olds to whom the other librarian read must have been from Mars; mine were having none of it. "Wanna play puzzles, Mommy!"

I had a storytime nightmare last night, dreaming that I kept forgetting books, grabbing the wrong videos, and not being able to work the VCR. In the dream I had a crowd of about forty children, all of who were most disgruntled. I was nearly in tears myself. Wow; I haven't had such a bad work-related dream in years - not since college, really. I must say, it really got me going on preparing for tomorrow's class. Those bigger kids can be brutal if everything isn't up to snuff.

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