Saisquoi?

Do you like steampunk? Robots? 19th century Russian literature? Then do I have something for you...

Our good friends at Quirk Classics have gifted us with another monster mash-up masterpiece--this time brought to us by a collaboration with Ben H. Winters (Sense & Sensibility & Sea Monsters with Jane Austen) and the immortal Leo Tolstoy: Android Karenina.

If you are familiar with Tolstoy's classic Anna Karenina, you'll be familiar with some of the characters: Anna Karenina; Count Alexia Vronsky; Nikolai Levin; Kitty Shcherbatskaya. But do you remember the robot butlers?

As with their earlier revamped classics including Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, Android Karenina blends a much-loved classic with some much-loved genre-fiction--in this case some excellent science-fiction. It will be greatly appreciated by adults looking to introduce what may be some intimidating classic literature as well as by reluctant readers.

At 538 pages, it's not a light read or for the faint of heart, but Android Karenina is certainly worth the commitment.

And a contest!

Does this interest you? Try your luck and sign up for a chance to win one of 25 Prize Packs from Quirk Classics retailing at near $100 and including

• Pride & Prejudice & Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls by Steve Hockensmith
• How to Survive a Horror Movie by Seth Grahame-Smith
• Dracula's Heir: An Interactive Mystery by Sam Stall
• Extreme Encounters by Greg Emmanuel
• How to Tell if Your Boyfriend Is the Antichrist by Patricia Carlin
• An Android Karenina poster
• And more!

Go on and visit Quirk Classics to enter, and be sure to tell them I sent you!

PS: I have to apologize--this should have gone up yesterday as part of Quirk's Blogsplosion, but I've got to tell you...Insomniac toddlers? Only helpful if you're shooting for insanity.

I don't get as much time with C as I would like to have. It's the biggest struggle I've had since becoming a mother and returning to work. I hesitate to even refer to it as work/life balance because such a thing is not possible with an impossibly cute and naughty toddler on one side and a 40 hour per week plus 45 minute each way commute on the other.

My solution has been to make the most of our all-too-limited Mommy-Daughter time and build in some special routines. Currently, Saturday mornings are ours. We get up early and go to the Farmer's Market. Sometimes we go to the playground. Then we go out for breakfast. It's not huge, but it's ours. And it's special.

Also special? Watching your kid DEVOUR eggs and homefries. If you're ever at the Friendly Toast, C highly recommends the Guy Scramble. She thinks it would be really great with coffee, but Mama isn't quite ready for that level of special.

Before I begin, I have a confession: The first time I saw Quirk Classics' Pride and Prejudice and Zombies my response was "What the...?" I picked the book up, looked at it, looked at it again, and put it back down because I couldn't wrap my mind around the weirdness. Fortunately, I changed my mind because it so turns out that zombies go with Jane Austen like Havarti goes with pears.

Because Pride and Prejudice and Zombies ended up being such a rollicking good time, I jumped at the opportunity to acquire and review an advance reader's copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls by Steve Hockensmith (release date: 3/23/2010). And lo, I was not disappointed.

Unlike the original Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, this prequel is a completely original work rather than a mash-up featuring the work of Jane Austen. Never fear! Hockensmith captures the essence of Regency Literature, only better! I found this read faster while still including the descriptions of British country social life that one expects from Ms. Austen.

The book answers several questions which readers may have following a reading of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: How did England come to be overrun by foul unmentionables? Where did the Bennet Girls acquire their mad martial arts skills? Is it possible to be both a lady and a warrior? It includes excellent discussions of balls (ahem), the stresses connected with coming out during Times of Troubles, and life and love prior to the arrival of Messrs Darcy and Bingley in Hertfordshire.

Who would benefit from this book? Anyone adventurous enough to experience the daring mix of Regency literature and violent zombie mayhem, ballgowns and nunchucks, courtship and warrior maidens! The book contains a fair amount of violence, dismemberment, and the consumption of humans living and dead. So, if reading about jellied brains and rotting flesh causes you to vomit like many of the fine residents of Meryton, you may want to hold off on this one, or at least keep a basin handy. Otherwise, an exceptionally fun, tongue-in-cheek read well-suited to reluctant readers.

Is your interest piqued? Quirk Books is running a contest in preparation for the release of Dawn of the Dreadfuls! Up for grabs are prize packages which include:


Click here to enter, and let them know I sent you!

I have very clear memories of my First Communion. I was ten years old and it took place during the Maundy Thursday at the Lutheran Church in town. I remember the dress I wore--it had a dropped waist and tiered skirt and was covered in cabbage roses. (Hey--it was 1987. If you think back that far, you may have had one JUST LIKE IT.) The whole family went to church. It was a BIG DEAL.

Preparation involved extra classes and the ability to recite the books of the Old and New Testaments. To this day, I cannot tell you why I needed to be able to tell you all the books of the Bible in order to participate in Communion, but there you go.

What I don't remember is what I actually thought of Communion once I was able to receive it. Which is funny because I clearly remember what it felt like to be excluded from The Table. And it isn't just me--my sister has very similar memories. And a much better story which I'm going to tell because it really is that important.

When I was in the second grade...my sister was probably three years old...my mother was hospitalized on Christmas Eve with toxic shock syndrome. My mother was the organist for the Roman Catholic service at the Air Force Base where we lived. Christmas Eve is not the best time to be without an organist, so a friend of hers substituted during midnight mass, and my father helped by bringing his trumpet. And, of course, my sister and me.

During Communion, Dad was playing and no one was really watching my sister. She took the opportunity to go up to the priest (a friend of the family) as he was handing out the Body of Christ and ask him for "one of those Bread Things," which, of course, she could not have because a) she was not Catholic and b) she was only three, and, therefore, uninitiated into the ways of Holy Communion. But, being three, she didn't understand why everyone else got to have one except for her. So she continued to pull, and cry, and plead, "But Father Jim, I want one of those Bread Things--Give me one of those Bread Things!" The priest is laughing and has tears coming out of his eyes as my father goes up to grab my sister and haul her back behind the organ...still wailing for one of those Bread Things.

As an adult, I understand that the idea of First Communion was very important to my mother. It was familiar to her. It was what she knew. But, as an adult, I have trouble with a theology or a liturgy that denies participation based on age or expertise or comprehension. If we are all the Children of God, we should all have a place at the table, regardless of how old or experienced or smart we are. So I decided that C would get to have Communion when she was ready. And that I would know she was ready when she could recognize exclusion.

What I didn't expect is how early children know that something is going on without them. I was thinking maybe when she was two or so. When she would be able to verbalize wanting one of those Bread Things. But last week at church I watched her during Communion, and I watched the wheels turn in her head and the look that said "Everyone is getting something here but me." And so even though she's only 13 months old, she's ready.

Yesterday was my daughter's First Communion. She didn't have a special dress, and she can't recite the books of the Bible. She will have no memory of her First Communion. But she will have no memory of being excluded from the table.

She may not remember her First Communion. But I will.

Like many families in daycare, we've had our run-ins with the modern day scourge of conjunctivitis, or PINK EYE. A week ago Friday, I got a call at 9:30 to please come and pick up C because she had goopy eyes. We called the doctor's office and they prescribed Erythromycin ointment over the phone. We dutifully smeared it in her eyes three times a day for a week. Yesterday, I got a call at 1:30--please come and pick up C because it looks like she has conjunctivitis again (still?).

Because you cannot really fight with daycare over the phone about whether or not the discharge coming from your child's eye is, in fact, PINK EYE, I went and picked her and called the doctor's office. They agreed that she should be seen because the PINK EYE should be gone after a week of antibiotics. But, alas, no appointments. So we could either wait and go this morning or go out to the walk-in/ERgent care clinic. I didn't believe she actually had PINK EYE that needed antibiotics, so we opted for the walk-in, hoping I'd be able to go to work today.

Here's what I wanted to have happen:

Dr: What's the problem?
Me: Goopy eye. She was treated for conjunctivitis last week and finished antibiotics on Thursday. She's had a cold and I think her father has a sinus infection. I wonder if her eyes are just draining from her cold?
Dr: It doesn't look like bacterial conjunctivitis--there would be more drainage if it was. I'll write you a note so she can go back to daycare.

Here's what actually happened:

Dr: What's the problem?
Me: Goopy eye. She was treated for conjunctivitis last week and finished antibiotics on Thursday. She's had a cold and I think her father has a sinus infection. I wonder if her eyes are just draining from her cold?
Dr: It doesn't look like bacterial conjunctivitis. Usually the pus is just running down their cheeks with that. And if her case last week was viral, then the antibiotics wouldn't have done anything for it, anyway. I'll write you a prescription for another 5 days of antibiotics and we'll see what that does.
Me: ?????

So my kid, who the doctor verbally indicated probably does not have bacterial conjunctivitis, has an "official" diagnosis of bacterial conjunctivitis, a different flavor of eye ointment to be applied three times daily for the next five days, and a day off from school. I have a not-actually-sick child and a day off from work. I also have a cold--so, at least one of us is actually sick on our sick day.

I'm hoping to get some knitting done on my Owlet for the Knitting Olympics. I figure if I can finish the neckline tonight and get some work done on the body, I may actually have a shot of finishing by the closing ceremonies.

C also seems to enjoy cooking, so I think we'll do some of that today as well. I'm thinking maybe we'll make meatloaf and mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables for dinner tonight. It's funny. A year ago, she was helping me cook dinner by sleeping in the sling while I baked. Now, she rifles through the cabinets and bangs on pots with a wooden spoon. She's already on her way to becoming an excellent cook, I think.



Or a fine eater.

The cool kids are having the Knitting Olympics and I want to play. However, I have a toddler--well, she's nearly toddling. And she's teething. And she has conjunctivitis.

I need to pick a project before cast-on tonight during the opening ceremonies. And I have it narrowed down to two possibilities: The Woven Kimono Cardigan or the Owlet sweater and a matching hat (scroll down to see the sweater).

If I were childless, I would go with the woven kimono. I've had the pattern and the yarn for a long time...like, since before I got pregnant...and it would definitely be a challenge for me to finish it in 17 days.

But I am not childless. I have a happy, little helper. Which is why I'm thinking Owls. It's not a big project and it's not technically difficult. But I've been knitting a baby hat for close to a month because between brain damage and a child who is in to absolutely EVERYTHING, I haven't been able to knit satisfactory short-rows.

Unfortunately, I don't have yarn for the owls. This is easy to rectify, though, since I unexpectedly get to spend most of the day at home with Miss C(onjunctivitis). She's not acting sick and if I don't let her touch anything, there's no real reason we couldn't go to the yarn store when she wakes up from her nap, is there?

What do you think? Are owls too lame to be Knitting Olympic-worthy? Should I sit this year out? Or should we head out to the Yarn Basket before Daddy gets home from work?

I have always been a crappy correspondent. I mean well--I really do--but I'm easily distracted and caught up in that thing called life. And time gets away from me...along with other things.

Here's my current distraction:



How can anything compete with that degree of cuteness?

C, my little Tadpole, hit the one year mark just a few weeks ago. She is a charming, clever, busy, loving little girl. She's standing and cruising the furniture, but has yet to take her first independent steps. That's OK. They'll be coming soon. I'm not in a hurry, particularly considering the trouble the little mite can stir up without the ability to walk.

It's been quite a year. I still knit, occasionally. It takes much longer to finish things. I'm still knitting the Noro scarf I started the day I went into labor. It's the distraction thing again. Sometimes C just needs a hat. And I have to oblige her. And I'm learning to make dolls. And there's spinning. Plus, I'd really like to learn how to weave...

But all in good time. Right now, keeping track of C is plenty enough most days. And then there are the cats. We lost another this past fall--Gabriel fell ill and was gone within a week. It was really hard on the Beloved, and I think the hardest part was the feeling that we didn't give him enough towards the end of his life. In spite of saying our feelings towards our cats would never change even with the baby...they did. C demands all. And, largely, she gets it. Which means there isn't much left for our rather high-needs cats.

We still have Winston, and (as you can see above) he and C get on quite well. I'm really hoping that her chronic bronchitis is not due to a cat allergy because she loves her "'at." And he loves her right back. Piper remains the crazy cat and mostly hides out in her room, but comes out on occasion. C is not permitted to play with her as we refer to Piper as "Danger Cat." But she tries.

And so things continue. We've cut our first teeth over here in the past week or two and it looks like they're all planning on coming in at once. C hasn't been much for sleeping through the night since I went back to work, but between the teeth and the latest round of lung crud, there is not much sleeping going on at all in this house. I keep saying that I'm going to clean out her bedroom and work on moving her in there, but really? I'd miss night-time cuddles with my girl and I'm not sure I'm ready to boot her out of our room and out of our bed. I keep hoping she'll show some sign of wanting to transition on her own, but no such luck. It will happen eventually, but I don't really want to push it. It really does go by too quickly.