2025 Reading Review

I haven't read much besides kids' stories in the last ten years.  2025 was the year of fixing that crap.  I wound up reading 39, including a beta copy of a friend's novel.  Yes, a lot of them were still kids' books.  Those were good adventures with the girls, ranging from well-loved favorites of my childhood to stories that were new to all of us.  

Some of the girls' favorites included:

• Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett (who I recommend to anyone and everyone)
• Witches by Roald Dahl
• Hatchet by Gary Paulsen
• Holes by Louis Sachar
• My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George
• Call it Courage by Armstrong Sperry

As for me, here's what I've read (and what I thought of them, thrown in completely free).

• Shahnahmeh by Ferdowsi.  This is part of the epic of Persia, part mythology and part history of Iran.  I wound up getting the abridged illustrated version, but no complaints.  The story was intriguing and the art was beautiful.  

• Empire of the Summer Moon by S. C. Gwynne.  This was a winner.  I've already discussed it in another post but the book covered the conflict between Texas and the Comanche, and it was absolutely fascinating.  A hard and sometimes horrific read, but fair-minded.  No one is the villain, but everyone plays their part in the conflict.  Definitely recommend.

• White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo.  I hate this book.  Now, some of you will be saying to yourself that that just confirms my racism and Ms. DiAngelo is proven right yet again.  I definitely disagree with her premise, but I disagree even more with the self-obsessed, patronizing, yet self-flagellating tone of the work and the circular logic to prove her thesis.  I've gone over my objections more in another post, but while I think it was important to read this book because of its influence over the past few years, it is still one I cannot bring myself to like or recommend.

• Woke Racism by John McWhorter.  This book, on the other hand, I thoroughly enjoyed.  John McWhorter is a black liberal linguist and academic who dived into the culture wars to offer counterpoints to Kendi and DiAngelo.  His major premise is that anti-racism is a religion, complete with a catechism, confession, and heresy.  I think he makes his case brilliantly.  Even if you are a DiAngelo-ite, I think you will benefit from reading McWhorter's perspective.

• Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.  I read this back in highschool and largely forgot about it, but it was nice rereading it this year. Bradbury has an interesting analysis of humanity that feels just as prescient in 2025 as it was in 1951.  I definitely recommend this book along with the other great dystopian novels by Orwell, Rand, and Huxley.

• Daughter of Fortune by Isabel Allende--this was not my usual genre, but it was still interesting.  Allende has beautiful prose that I imagine is even more lovely in the original Spanish. 

• The Coddling of the American Mind by Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt.  An interesting and insightful analysis of how the educational system, colleges, and society in general have tried to insulate students from hard discussions and conflicting "bad" opinions, and the costs of those choices.  Namely, the last few generations have become increasingly anxious and emotionally rigid and brittle despite humans naturally trending towards resiliency in adversity.  They discuss what they call the Three Great Untruths that have become part of the mantra of the last decade: 1, that what doesn't kill you makes you weaker; 2, always trust your feelings; and 3, life is a battle between good people and evil people.  Lukianoff and Haidt make some compelling points and have practical suggestions for fixing some of the harms caused by the Untruths. This is a must read along with Anxious Generation by Haidt and Bad Therapy by Shrier.  

• Rules for Radicals by Saul Alinsky.  This is easily my least favorite book I've read this year.  It's not even a contest.  My dislike is made even saltier by the fact that Alinsky's observations and guidance is so obviously useful--and used.  After reading this I can see exactly how "community organizers" are so effective in mobilizing protests and affecting change.  On the other hand, Saul Alinsky was deeply amoral--as he would explain, morality is something that those on the outside of the conflict concern themselves with, not those in the struggle.  The victorious end is the only goal, and however that is attained is moral because it resulted in victory.  I disagree.  I also find something concerning in his assertion that the struggle can never--must never--be solved; it must be mutated into the next struggle, and the next.  We'd call it "moving the goalposts." Alinsky was brilliant, but he was also a deeply narcissistic, manipulative man who reveled in being in power (he'd dispute that, but he also clearly enjoys being influential and having local governments and groups quail at his arrival in town), and it shows in his writing.  A must read, but it will probably leave you feeling gross or angry unless you share Alinsky's ideology.

• Oh No, Not the Home by Peggy Rowe.  After all the heavy topics on this list, this book was delightful literary popcorn.  Peggy Rowe is an essayist and anecdotist who shares stories about growing old and moving into a community for the age-challenged.  She is America's Grandma, and has a gentle sense of humor that is all too willing to make herself the butt of the joke.  A nice, calm book that can be read piecemeal and just enjoyed instead of dissected.

• The Case Against the Sexual Revolution by Louise Perry.  I had a friend recommend this one, and holy crap.  I'm so glad she did.  Contrary to the title, this is not some anti-feminist, ultra right-wing religious screed.  This is a modern, liberal feminist who takes a thoughtful look at how the sexual revolution more or less encouraged women to act like men--and how that hurt women.  In particular, modern sexual attitudes encourage sex without attachment, and this is something that socially and biologically benefits men at the expense of women.  Porn, far from being a liberating and equalizing construct, also reinforces the male appetite and sexual perspective. The book is frank and sometimes explicit, but I think Perry crushed it.

• Irreversible Damage by Abigail Shrier.  An interesting, thoroughly documented analysis and several case studies of the female-to-male transgender epidemic among teen girls.  While this book caught a lot of flack and got Shrier accused of bigotry, the material actually treats everyone in the book fairly and respectfully.  It is an observable fact that transgenderism exploded among teen girls at an incredible rate out of literally nowhere, and this explores some of the potential causes and costs.  Whether you agree with it or not, it is a worthwhile and reasoned perspective.  

• The Once and Future King by T.H. White.  This is actually four books in one; most of us are familiar with the first one as the old Disney classic, The Sword in the Stone.  Frankly, the first book was a little boring. Then the second one started with one of the most gruesome scenes I've ever read.  Ever.  Including Stephen King, Anne Rice, and George R.R. Martin. While I considered quitting the first book, the other three kept me riveted despite knowing how it would end.  White's prose is simply beautiful, profound, and sad.  It's a story of love, redemption, hate, envy, failure, and dreams that failed because of the weakness and imperfection of others.  I enjoyed it so much more than I expected.  There is a quote from Ursula K. LeGuin on the cover: "I have laughed at White's great Arthurian novel and cried over it and loved it all my life." I understand why.

• The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien.  This one is bleeding over a little into 2026, but it is written as only Tolkien could.  It is a beautiful story of creation and the jealous, spiteful evil that seeks to undo it over lifetimes.  It provides a background for The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, but at times it reads almost like a religious text, particularly at the beginning.  I'm glad I got to savor it last.

Bonus:

•   The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion by Beth Brower (Books 1-8)  These weren't officially on my list, but I recommend them unabashedly. A friend of mine who absolutely adores them convinced me to try the first one, and I was hooked.  It's a period series like Pride and Prejudice, but funnier and more relatable than any Austen novel.  There are literary allusions and references all over the place, and one of the most likeable heroines and casts I've read in a long time.  The silver lining is that they are all PG so far--a rarity in a world rife with fairy and dragon smut. (No judgment, read what you like, I've definitely dabbled, but sometimes it's nice to have something I can share with my daughters.)

I've already started on my list for next year.  If something inspires you, steal it.

• 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen Covey
• Meditations by Marcus Aurelius
• Persuasion by Jane Austen
• Call the Midwife by Jennifer Worth
• Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali
• Hunt, Gather, Parent by Michaeleen Doucleff
• Night by Elie Wiesel
• The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu
• Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand
• The Jungle by Upton Sinclair
• Ordinary Men by Christopher Browning
• Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt

Runners up include The Man-eaters of Tsavo, The Lost Year, and Klara and the Sun.  And, of course, the next Emma M. Lion book if it comes out.  Hint, hint, Brower.

Resolve this, ya filthy animal.

 It's New Year's Eve, and it's time to reflect on all the things that we've accomplished this year...or, more accurately, what we didn't accomplish this year.  Some of you may recall that I set out a lofty list of 40 goals for my 40th year.

Long story short, I didn't succeed. I managed to get a number of them done, but it would be accurate to say I overstretched myself to the point of impracticality.  Therefore, I have decided to use my 40th birthday powers and decree that I have until my actual birthday to keep working on my list.  It's only fair considering this list was supposed to be for my 40th birthday year.  

Never be ashamed to pivot. Sometimes you have to make adjustments.

Now that that technicality is done, let's review what I did actually manage to accomplish.

• Learn to shingle and reshingle the shed--Failed.  I did watch a couple videos and measure my shed, but this project will bleed into the new year.
• Gravel the backyard--Failed.  No time for shoveling 6 tons of rock.  Another 2026 bleed-through project.
• Blog 2x a month--Closer than expected.  I'm 18 published, 19 with this one.  About two dozen drafts waiting to be finished.  
• Read 12 books--Finished!  And then some--but that's another post.

• Write 1 book--Absolutely failed.  Try again next year.
• Paint 2x a month--I have in fact painted.  I'm sitting at about 14, with various muse paintings saved on my phone that I will eventually get around to doing.

My personal crest.  A white she-wolf with 8 stars on a royal blue background, with the motto "I will answer."

• Stop swearing--90% successful.  I've done better than I expected, given everything that's happened this year.
• Learn to use a chainsaw--Failed.  But my chainsaw is broken, so that's not really my fault.
• Learn violin--Failed-ish.  I watched a couple lessons, I practiced a couple of weeks, and then got happily distracted by other things.  A good friend and professional violinist once told me it takes about a year to sound tolerable.  Well, that won't be this year.  I can't stand that E-string.  Maybe I'll try piano instead, or get an actual teacher.
• Whitewater rafting in Santa Fe, either solo or lady-friends trip--DONE!  And absolutely one of the highlights of the year.

• Run a 5k--Does it count if not all the Ks are connected?  Probably not.  I have yet to run the complete 5k, but I averaged 2 days a week at the gym over the last year, and have run 37 miles, which is 37 more than I've run in the last 10 years put together.  That's something.
• Bench press 75 lbs--Failed.  I made it to 45 lbs, but was not consistent enough to make my goal. 
• Get a pedicure and facial--Somehow, I managed.  Not my usual, but nice.
• Learn Spanish--365 days on DuoLingo.  Do I speak Spanish?  Not really.  I took four years of French and don't really speak that either.  Still, I did at least 10 minutes a day and I read more Spanish than I did a year ago.

• Build a piece of furniture--We built a dog-gate that should have been made three years ago.  It still counts. This was a lesson for me about the Dunning-Kruger Effect--namely, that I didn't know anything about building so I was very confident that I could do it.  Luckily Rick is a carpenter's son and stepped it when it was clear my confidence exceeded actual skill.

• Break my phone addiction and lessen non-educational screentime in general--not a total win, but not a total loss.  Definite improvement made.
• Do a Savage Daughters photo shoot with my girls--Still in the planning stages.  It was hot, then we were busy, and then it got cold.  We'll get there eventually.
• Read the Book of Mormon all the way through (done this previously, but still a good thing)--Done.  And Saints, and the D&C, and we are ready for the Old Testament next year.
• Read scriptures every day--Shockingly, did it.
• Pray every day--Unexpected victory.
• Lose 15 lbs--Totally expected fail.  But I made it to the gym, and getting healthier is not just a number so we're going to stick a pin in this one.
• Sew a t-shirt quilt--Planned and started.  It’s not gonna be pretty, but should be done by my birthday.

Need to kill some more shirts...

• Paint 12 model horses--painted more than 12, but they still need their details.

• Learn to fence--I managed a couple of lessons.  Then I whacked Rick with the sword a lot and he got exasperated with me.
• Refinish kitchen cabinets--Ha!  Did it!  And they look better!
• Practice pistol and rifle marksmanship 1x a month--Yeah...sooooo did not happen.  I made it out a couple times, though.
• Complete a gunsmithing course--Nope.  Rick taught me how to break down, clean, and reassemble a couple of guns.  Then I got bored and wandered off.
• Repair the shed siding--totally did this one.  Then the kids shot arrows into it.
• Save $250 a month--Success.
• Archery 1x a week--More like 1 time every few months.  But I did go out occasionally.  (And I didn't put new holes in the shed.)
• Build an outhouse on our Alaska swamp with Tom Nixon (if circumstances work out)--circumstances did not, in fact, work out.  Disappointment of the year.  We'll hopefully have another chance.
• Go to the temple at least 2x--I made it once.
• Go to an El Paso Rhinos Junior Hockey Game--Made it, and it was loud, full of swearing and fistfights, and utterly delightful.
• Repaint kitchen to match rest of house--I have the paint and good intentions.  2026 project.
• Recaulk tubs--Got the right tools and they look so much better.  10/10 recommend for feel-good project.
• Learn Irish stick fighting--pretty much like fencing.  Watched a couple videos, practiced a couple of times, then hit Rick when he wasn't looking and he got annoyed.
• Belly dance 2x a month--Nope, nope, nope, with a little shimmy on the end.  Try again next year.
• Get Leah's driver license--Ha ha!  Victory!  And we did passports too!  All the paperwork!
• Take a tax preparer class--Nope.  Found one, just need to sign up and do it.  Maybe 2026.
• 24 dates with Rick--Honestly, I lost count.  We went out, we did things, we probably ate food.

Unexpected achievements:

• Learned Chess.  I'm not good, but I'm not terrible either.
• Refinished and repainted the living room doors that didn't match anything.  Now they do.
• Sanded and oiled my battered dining table.  Now it doesn't look like it's been tortured by small children for a decade.
• Worked on my cursive.
• Made a Beef Wellington with Leah after some ill-informed choices. It was okay.
• I refinished some walking sticks.
• I'm not sure if this one counts since I haven't *technically* done it yet, but I'm going to switch out some electrical outlets tonight.  I'm hoping for a reverse Dunning Kruger thing where I'm pretty sure I can't do it but turn out to be really good at it.  I'll settle for not electrocuting myself.

So now we go onto new goals.  I'll figure out what I want to do and get that undoubtedly optimistic list out next week.  In the meantime, I'm going to celebrate the wins.  Rick likes to remind me that I didn't do everything I wanted, but I did so much more than I would have otherwise.  That's a nice way of saying I'm a failure but not as much of one as I could have been. I'll take it.

And now it's time to celebrate whatever wins we've scraped together with a cup of cider and some kabooms. See you on the other side.

So this is Christmas.

The pavlova is in the oven, baking, and the rolls are rising on the counter.  The roast is waiting its turn in the oven.  The girls are grumbling their way through vacuuming.  The stockings are still empty and thin on the mantle.  It's the lull before the storm.  Just enough time for a few stolen minutes to write about our Christmas.

These sugar cookies have seen some things...

For many years, we didn't have set traditions.  The tradition was to pack the kids and drive back to Arizona.  Christmas Eve with my mom, Christmas day with his.  They were good times.  Always something good coming out of the oven, the house so full of people that conflict was easily avoided.  Christmas Eve was spent with the adults staying up way too late wrapping last-minute gifts and telling ridiculous stories; Christmas day was a 5 AM orgy of presents and then a day of visiting over delicious food.

Somewhere around year 10 we had to start making our own Christmas.  While we still occasionally made it back for the holidays, more and more we've put our own brand on it.

The tree goes up after Thanksgiving.  It's been a hard line to hold, but it does not go up before no matter how much Aeryn begs and wheedles and threatens.  I put on the lights and the girls do the rest.  I used to take a more active hand, but I was micromanaging so that the tree actually looked nice and no one involved had much fun.  Now I only micromanage the delicate ornaments and leave the rest to the girls.  They rock out to Christmas songs and then I come appreciate their work after an hour or so.  It works for everyone.  At least until the 27th or so, when the tree comes down to much lamentation and complaining about killing the holiday spirit.  They should be grateful we have a tree at all. For years we didn't have one.  One year we had a paper tree for various reasons (mostly small children), and they've never let me forget it.  For the last decade we've had a respectable 7-foot prelit tree covered with golden glitter that sheds everywhere.  The top is permanently bent, the branches have drooped and 3/4 of the lights are out, but the glitter still shines, and when it's all Charlie-Browned up, it's even respectable.

We make so much food.  Mostly sugar, and I'm always surprised that hasn't been a bigger issue (*yet*).  We do a pavlova and a buche de noel, fudge, and so many gingerbread cookies. I remember making those cookies with my dad every year in a giant green tupperware bowl filled with nine batches of gingerbread he'd mix by hand.  I use my mixer, but there's always gingerbread and to spare starting the first week of December.  Dinner is usually a roast beef with mashed potatoes and rolls. The day after is leftovers and charcuterie because I am super done cooking, and the girls are super done washing dishes

.

Every year there is a list of movies to watch.  On reflection, it's a stranger list than I'd ever expected, but it definitely adds some flavor.  There are classics like Garfield's Christmas, Home Alone, How the Grinch Stole Christmas (any and all, but always the OG animated), A Charlie Brown Christmas, Nightmare Before Christmas, A Muppet Christmas Carol, A Claymation Christmas, A Christmas Story, Klaus, and It's a Wonderful Life (the freaking best one).  We do some sweet ones with The Messengers and other Chosen-affiliated shorts, and While You Were Sleeping. Then there are the slightly more raucous ones, like Just Friends, The Holiday, Feast of the Seven Fishes and Last Christmas.  Batman Returns and Edward Scissorhands are where the list really starts going off the rails, but The Conjuring 2 is the weird-ass cherry on top.  I don't personally watch that one, but my older girls like it.  Occasionally Gremlins or The Santa Clause sneaks in, and once in a blue moon we watch one of the really terrible Hallmark style movies like Hot Frosty or A Knight Before Christmas (neither were good but were fun to watch my girls react to).

Christmas Eve is our big day of festivities.  The actual day of Christmas always feels so anticlimactic, but Christmas Eve everyone is still riding the party-high of anticipation and holiday cheer.  We have our big meal, we watch our admittedly questionable Christmas movies, tell stories, play games, and any guests come then.  The girls do their Secret-Sister gift exchange. We read the Christmas story in Luke 2 and sing come carols, then chase the kids to bed late so we can stuff stockings.  The stockings always have a few staples, like a hairbrush, a drink, and new chapstick.  As far as presents, we also try to keep them largely practical.  One year the girls all got new bedding; this year they're getting towels.  We also do Christmas pajamas at varying levels of ridiculousness.  This year is low-key, just pants and a matching shirt. Next year is either going to be flannel nightgowns (including a nightshirt for Dad), long-underwear complete with a butt-flap, or shark onesies.  I'll keep you posted.

Christmas day we open presents and then have a long, leisurely day.  There's a quiet stream of Christmas movies on in the background.  The table has the leftovers out and a charcuterie board added for easy grazing.  We also observe Jolabokaflod, the Scandinavian practice of giving books.  It's traditionally done on Christmas Eve, but since we're anti-social we do it on Christmas day and spend the day snuggled up, drinking cocoa or kinderpunch (spiced juice from Germany) and reading intermittently.  It's one of my favorite things, and I'm pretty sure I'm getting some fabulous books this year.

And that's how we do it.  I imagine it will continue to evolve as our girls age up and life situations change, but no matter how or where we've celebrated it really is the most wonderful time of the year.  May it be the same for you and yours.

Duncan says hi.

Another Great Adventure

A few weeks ago a friend mentioned that her husband had got orders to Guam.  She was a little anxious about the big change--three years in the middle of the Pacific where visiting home isn't really an option due to cost, with two kids and a dog to boot.  As the other spouses and I reassured her, I found that I was actually kind of jealous.

Rick retires next year after twenty-two years of service to the empire.  We're planning our own move, but it's heavier somehow.  8 people, 6 pets, buying a home, transitioning to a new non-military identity and way of life...If we make a mistake, the army isn't going to be there to whisk us away in a couple of years or catch us if everything falls to hell. We'll bear the responsibility and successes and failures on our own.  After two decades of Uncle Sam running our lives, that agency is a little overwhelming.  There won't even be time to adjust--we'll have to hit the ground running, getting kids into extracurriculars and teaching one to drive (two, since the permit age is lower), getting work and reintegrating into a community we haven't been a part of for years.

On the other hand, orders to Guam are an adventure.  A challenging one, certainly.  That kind of isolation is no joke.  The cost of living, typhoons, the pace of life on a relatively small island...there are definitely going to be some major hurdles.  And yet I think about when my kids were younger, how exciting it was to pack up the car and just drive to the next duty station, unsure of what we'd find, and I miss it.  Now there are a thousand different concerns.  Friendships mean more to teens than toddlers.  There's more paperwork.  A ridiculous number of pets to be accounted for.  And lurking behind it all is the little voice saying, "You could just stay where you are, you know."

There are good reasons to stay here.  Rick has a job he could step into without any hassle.  The house is already bought and largely renovated.  The kids have friends.  More importantly, WE have friends.  We know the roads. The cost of living is cheaper even if property taxes are absurd. It makes financial sense to stay.  Despite this, even though we finally have the chance to put down real roots, none of us want to stay here.  It simply doesn't fit.

I've been happy in so many places.  I've been happy here, too, though it took some effort.  Still, it feels like a secondhand shoe--it doesn't hurt, it's roughly the right size, it's a perfectly serviceable shoe, but something about it just isn't right. Sometimes in my more cynical moments, I doubt that there is ever a place that will be "just right." I'm not Goldilocks and there isn't a cottage in sight.  What I do know is that here isn't where our story seems to end.

And so next summer we're going off on a grand adventure of our own.  It feels like the last one, a finality, but in reality it's only another change. I just have to remember all the changes I've already survived.  I got married and had kids and it was so much better than I expected.  Ten moves to wildly different locations.  Sickness.  Grief.  I've been a young mother, a middling mother, and now the mother of adults, and each stage has had its unique trials and joys.  I don't regret any of it.  Whatever comes next will also undoubtedly come with good times that outweigh the bad.

I'd be lying, though, if I said I wasn't intimidated at the sheer amount of chaos ahead.  It's kind of like the climactic scene at the end of the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy: multiple ships firing at each other as they ride the edge of a swirling vortex of death, it's raining for dramatic effect and everyone's drenched, no one is 100% sure what is actually going on or what anyone else is doing, and for good measure there's a wedding thrown in just to keep things interesting.  It's all you can do to stay on your feet.  That's how 2026 is shaping up.  Orders and out-processing in a behemoth bureaucracy that makes the simplest tasks require three different signatures and a 100 different pieces of paperwork; prepping and selling a house; buying a house 3,000 miles away; getting one kid across the graduation line, another four kept to grade level, and the oldest finishing her junior year of college; bouncing between last-hurrah activities with the girls before we rip them away from their friends again; packing and passports and paperwork so that our circus can legally cross Canada...That's before we even think about the wedding that might be happening somewhere in the middle of it all.

To quote another movie, "I'm too old for this sh*t."

But I remember driving to D.C. in a jankety car and no phone.  That was intimidating too, but we survived.  We survived the first epic southern rainstorm where we couldn't see 10 feet in front of our car, and the first snow that shut down a highway and turned a 10-hour trip into a 20-hour nightmare.  We've made it through car engines melting outside of Dallas and babies starting a domino-chain of vomiting half-way through the midwest.  Heck, we even handled international travel during Covid.  It wasn't fun, but we got some good stories.  In the end that's what we'll remember, and that's what I'm depending on.  We didn't come this far to sink now.

Now I just need to remember that when the winds start howling.

A Lonesome Haunt

 For the first time in 20 years, I'm alone on Halloween.  Rick's on shift, the Bigs have taken the Smalls out trick-or-treating and also took the lead in getting them dressed. The lone spawn left home is holed up in her room doing physics and hating life. The loaded candy bowl is out front with the porch light on.  Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is in the background, Kenneth Branagh chewing the scenery in lace cuffs.  The dishwasher is running and one of the idiot dogs occasionally barks at a ghost but it is otherwise very, very quiet.

It's weird.

Halloween has always been my favorite.  It's a chaotic, irreverent mess of treats and spooky movies with baller soundtracks and indulging in dressing up.  I love throwing together costumes--over the years I've acquired or made enough pieces to make a pretty fantastic dress-up box.  It's come in pretty handy.  For example, this year Aeryn could not choose a costume for love nor money nor threats; then literally about noon today, she decided to be a flapper and made her sister join her in the roaring 20s.  A couple minutes of digging through my magic tubs and a quick swipe of makeup and I had two ladies ready to rouge up their knees and Charleston the night away. 

We've had some great costumes over the years if I do say so myself.  Steampunk Joker and Harley Quinn, Avatar the Last Airbender, the Moon and her Fairies, Superman, Captain Hammer, Firefly, an Old West themed family complete with cow and saloon owner.  More recently the girls have taken more and more control over their costumes, resulting in some pretty impressive results--Captain Amelia from Treasure Planet, Orpheus, Chadifer the College Dude Bro, a Chicken, various witches, and a bombshell version of Rarity (My Little Pony).  There were some missed opportunities, for sure--I will regret not doing Miss Hannigan and her orphans when the girls were still small enough that the costume fit (and they had easily overruled opinions).  Monty Python and the Holy Grail was another missed opportunity.  For some reason, teen girls aren't exactly jumping at the chance to be a "shrubbery" or "Knight who says Ni" (though Claudia was quite delighted at the thought of being the killer bunny).

One of my favorites.

The Toddler we call Jayne

Werewolf at the All Hallow's Eve weekend at the Ren Faire last year.

Drinks at Calamity Jane's Saloon

Cracked Doll

Captain.

Chadifer 

She's of two minds about everything.

I'm actually really proud of this prop. 

This year's Trunk or Treat costume (last week).  Nobody knew who we were.

Fluttershy

Rick and Gregg, back in North Carolina 18 years ago.

Steampunk Joker and Harley.

1 week postpartum butterfly and caterpillar.

ATLA

This was a last-minute costume.  I was two days past my due-date and was not expecting to be trick or treating.  It came together nicely and was rather on-the-nose.

I'm slowing down, though.  To steal a phrase from a much better author, I feel like butter scraped over too much bread; I just haven't had the energy to dive as fully into the holiday this year.  I also realized that the girls are driving it more and more; Aeryn decorated cupcakes with the smalls this year, Echo insisted on decorating the house, and Leah is leading the candy marauding.  I'm not as necessary or involved as I was before.

Echo's treats--pudding-filled chocolates.

I'm not sure how I feel about this change, one more in a great wave of changes.  I take that back.  It actually makes me a little sad.  It's fun to dress up, but it's more fun to help a kid make their vision come to life.  Candy's always nice (especially half-price day-after-Halloween candy), but there's a certain thrill to the post-holiday trading market that springs up in the living room.  Making fudge eyeballs and decorating cookies badly just isn't the same solo.  The magic fades.  Luckily I still have some time with my girls at home; and after that, I'm statistically likely to have at least a couple grandkids; the magic hasn’t dulled yet, and while it will alter it's not likely to fade entirely.

In the meantime, I'll enjoy a couple quiet minutes out of a still chaotic, bustling, beautiful part of life.  I'll sip my drink.  I'll write maudlin nonsense in my blog.  And when those kids come home and the sugar swap meet opens in my living room, you can bet I'll be taking my cut of the candy.  Times are a-changing, but they ain't gone yet.

Happy Halloween.  Make the most of it.

 

Viva Las Vegas

My girls just got back from living it up in Vegas with some friends.  Well, not too much living since no one in their crew is drinking or gambling age (and even if they were are remarkably responsible...and poor).  I'm a little jealous, but I got to go visit my friends in Vegas back in November so I can't complain too much.

The closest we got to the strip was the highway.  No complaints. There was also a car racing event downtown, so we just avoided the whole thing.

I've been to Vegas a couple of times in my life.  I'm largely not a fan.  It's desert, it's hot, and it's the number one destination for people who aren't great at holding their liquor, their money, or their clothes.  It takes a compelling reason to make the trip.  This time, it was the wedding of one of Rick's friends that prompted Rick, the number 2 kid, and I to make the 12-hour drive west.  The wedding itself was wonderful.  It didn't start out that way--it turns out someone (Rick) forgot to RSVP for both of us, but luckily someone else had canceled so I had a seat.  The bride and groom had a lovely ceremony out in a rose-trellised gazebo, then a reception that combined traditions from their Vietnamese and Korean heritages (including lion dancers).  It was awesome, and it was a privilege to share the evening with them. 

We went for the wedding, but the friends and family were the jewel of the trip.  We stayed with some of my very favorite people in the world.  Years ago we met up in Alaska; we both have six girls, both homeschool, and we hit it off pretty quickly.  There are very few people whose home I could comfortably invade, but these folks are on that elect list.

We picked right up where we'd left off.  Despite her swearing she's not the tour guide kind of host, she still chauffeured us out to Red Rocks for some hiking one day.  Despite the heat we did a couple of short hikes and also found some of the local burros.  Obviously, we chased them down for a picture.  

The next few adventures were much smaller--a bird rescue and a farmer's market down the street.  The bird rescue was wild.  It was full of rescued farm animals as well as two houses full of parrots, including some psychotic cockatoos who climbed down the walls of their cages to flirt with the girls and scream at the rest of us.  The farmer's market was overrun with barn cats and the occasional chicken.  We all made some furry friends.  Add in some yummy Greek food and some late-night gabbing, and it was a pretty good day.

Another highlight of the weekend was visiting Rick's fabulous cousin and her family.  (Apparently Vegas is where all the cool people live.)  His cousin and her husband are brilliant, hilarious, and know all the best food joints in town.  We had dinner at an Asian fusion joint and dessert at a coffee house, with a side of political discussion and medical provider anecdotes.

After a couple of whirlwind days without nearly enough sleep, it was time to go home. Courtesy of my number 2 kid being obsessed with musicals, we listened to Epic and discussed Greek mythology. We also read through a chunk of Let's Pretend This Never Happened by The Bloggess (Jenny Lawson). I love road trips with my crew.  Even if we don't get crazy (like I said before, we're unfortunately rather responsible and not big drinkers despite being legally old enough and then some) we always have a pretty good time.

A giant freaking stuffed rabbit at the farmer's market.  There's a cat underneath it.

And a pic from the girls' trip.  She thought she was funny.