I am still enjoying listening to Jonathon Franzen’s ‘Freedom’ although I’m down to the last two discs and am wondering what I’m going to do when it’s over. I’m going to MISS it. I mentioned that I was listening to it on Facebook, and started to type that, next to the Steig Larsson trilogy, it was the best book I’d read all year. Then I stopped myself, because I’m actually listening to it, which seems…different somehow. Do you consider books that you listen to to be ‘read’? I am not sure. It’s a different medium. For example, I like listening to Dean Koontz, but I can’t abide reading him.

I also, for some unknown reason, picked up Keith Richards’ ‘Life’ from the Lucky Day shelf and although I didn’t have high expectations, I am thoroughly enjoying it. It reads like he would speak and it is so funny and ridiculous and appalling so far, I can’t put it down.

After running 2.6 miles yesterday, on a blustery and cold afternoon, I feel ready to commit to an actual event.

Dexter-Ann Arbor run, June 5 – here I come!

Such lethargy makes me feel guilty and unproductive. I should be spring cleaning, doing laundry, knitting, exercising, baking, or working on one of ‘longer term project’ tasks on my work to-do list. But the explosions of growth and life around me in the springtime have the effect of annually rendering me listless and unmotivated.

With the end of the official birdwatching season, the backyard is suddenly thronged with bird traffic and the early mornings are full of silvery birdsong. It’s hypnotic to sit by the window and watch their comings and goings. Snoop & I linger in the garage during our morning bustle to load the car and depart for our busy days; we like listening to the birds and she puts her little fingers up to her mouth in a parody of a bird beak and whispers, ‘Tweet Tweet Tweet, Mommy. The birdies say Tweet Tweet Tweet.’

After dropping Snoop off at preschool, I listen to Jonathon Franzen’s ‘Freedom’ on audiobook during my commutes and every day I am more blown away by it. I find myself preoccupied at work, wanting to check in with the Berglunds, and then remember with a start that it is fiction. It starts out cleanly, as one thing; one set of impressions of a successful and enviable family. Then the floor story drops away into a complicated maze of motivations, history, emotional baggage, sacrifices and longings, missteps and bad judgements. Concepts and ramifications of freedom of choice, both personal and more grand in scale. The deep flaws and self-absorption of the characters, loveable and pathetic, sympathetic and grotesque, his razor insight into their motivations, understandable and unforgivable, they all seem to be saying as the story unfolds, ‘don’t give yourself too much rope to hang with.’

How much of our own misery is self-inflicted?

I need more time on pause to digest the history of the rare, endangered, and miserable Cerulean Warbler.

If this is true, I’m in a lot of trouble…

Top photo, new hair.

Bottom photo, Snoop making sure JJ Dog is securely buckled into Daddy’s twuck. JJ Dog is her preschool class mascot, who rotates weekends with the kids, and has an accompanying journal of his adventures. (I am hoping that they have a robust disinfecting method for JJ Dog but am realistic about this.) I shared this with my stylist as she arduously turned my brown eyes blue, so to speak… She breathlessly reassured me that at least he is not a turtle, as the child of one of her clients has a live  turtle as a class mascot. It apparently smells rather bad. And there’s no risk of killing JJ Dog, which is a plus.

I know it’s not a contest, but after browsing the journal, I’m pretty sure we can blow those other cream puff parent entries out of the water. I already have an arduous itinerary for JJ Dog and the Nikon is in overdrive. In times like these, I am especially grateful for my Secret Blog Superpower. I am not a great driver, and I can’t do much math, never learned to leap tall buildings or deflect criticism with my fancy metal bracelets, but dammit, thanks to blogging, I really do have a superpower. It gives you the gift of making at least semi-entertaining narrative out of ordinary events. And  every now and then it comes in kind of handy.

She has settled in our old hometown, and owns a rambling and gorgeous historic home in a historic neighborhood that I always loved. The house is in varying states of restoration but is an absolute work of art. A dining room that seats twelve, funny old rippled glass in the windows, wood plank floors. Yes, there WAS a boiler that didn’t quite work properly and when the bathroom was gutted, the wallpaper selected by the previous owner (a funeral home director) was emblazoned with pagodas, fans, and reclining sheep. But there are also leaded glass panes and enormous beams in the ceilings and that general feeling of solidness that old houses possess.

She is from a big family and has stayed close with them and has children of her own so the house is full of family coming and going and one child is playing piano in the other room while dinner guests congregate at the enormous table and the wall radiators click away comfortingly.

She is as I remember her, but different, and watching her is like seeing my own reflection in a strange looking glass, time running down all the years of our lives, right back to when we were children ourselves.

jacob's ladder

2.) We also have some Really Big Black Birds. GB & I have been calling them ravens, but it doesn’t really seem that they could be, based on the raven range map in our bird book. But they are REALLY BIG. I can’t believe that they could be plain old crows. They are the size of big chickens, which is apparent when they sit on our birdbath and dwarf it. I thought we had some pictures, but maybe no (as my Japanese colleagues frequently say. For example, “xxx-san, is this what you had in mind for this project?” Show a spreadsheet that has taken several hours to complete. Long pause. Scrutiny. “Maybe no.”) I do, however, have a picture of this character who is at least admirable for Never Giving Up.

3.) I think the only way to really enjoy a Jonathon Franzen book is to hear it. I listened to “The Corrections” on audio and am currently listening to “Freedom” during my daily commutes; and have thoroughly enjoyed both in this format.

4.) After almost a year of hearing the old dishwasher grinding away and halfheartedly soaping our dishes into only a passing semblance of clean, we finally bought a new one, which is scheduled to be delivered sometime between 3.30 and June 5. We told Snoop that she could be our dishwasher but we didn’t think she could reach; during the shopping process she sat in the cart kicking her legs and saying earnestly, “But I can’t WEACH.” GB is one of those guys who meticulously researches such purchases whereas I am the type to rock up to Lowe’s and say, “That one looks cute! I’ll take it.” So hopefully we will enjoy our new Bosch 500-series with all of the things GB said were important. It’s also kind of cute, too. So we’re both happy. Hopefully it will wash our dishes.

5.) It’s April and I have planted my heirloom Brandywine tomatoes in a little tray in the sunny den. We have crocuses and other random green things poking up out of the earth. It may just be time to take the vintage sleds we use as winter decoration off the front porch.

I started up again awhile ago and am closer than I’ve ever been to the time target; my speed is awful and will be the next focus once I can actually run for 30 minutes. I run on the treadmill in the basement, trying to fit it in before I fetch Snoop from day care or after she’s in bed for the night. For several weeks now, I’ve run three times a week and done an additional light workout on the weekend. At the risk of becoming the victim of hubris, I’m already chatting up Fit coworkers for ideas on the right 5k to sign up for, preferably something in early summer.

I tend to be a quitter where these things are concerned so it wouldn’t surprise me at all if I again came within a hair’s breadth of accomplishing this life goal and then derailed, but perhaps making it publicly known that I am trying will help my commitment level. Maybe you guys can shame me into finishing this time. 

I’m doing other things to improve my general wellness. Cutting back on alcohol consumption was the first target, starting after the New Year; then came my Take Back Lunch campaign, where I tried to eat light and healthfully during my day at work, fruits and raw veggies, salads and yogurt and nuts; I still take a multivitamin and a probiotic religiously, and a couple of days ago started an herbal cleanse. This isn’t as gross as it sounds; it’s just a pill taken in the morning, a different pill at night, and an overall corresponding increase in water consumption.

I’m not sure what prompted this except that my workplace wellness screening last fall was a little shocking to me in terms of my BMI index. My weight has usually fluctuated by 5-10 lbs give or take, but I’ve lost a lot of ground in my overall fitness level since becoming a mommy. Regaining control of this is a bit like a game of Whack-a-Mole, though; the minute I feel I have my exercise under control, my diet gets worse; when I’m eating lightly and healthfully, the exercise spins off the rails. It’s a constant balancing act.

Brother: Colonoscopy is a great cleanse…

Me: I was thinking of something less invasive. Preferably something with a picture of a bearded guru on the box.

Brother: Eh. Save some money – go through Taco Bell.

Me: 88% real beef, the rest ‘secret recipe’

Brother: It’s PEOPLE