You Can't Go Wrong!

The exception.

I love reading. However, I am reluctant to write a "review" about a book. The internet is crowded with book reviews, many that I find boring. Recently I finished a book that left me with lingering thoughts about its subject, so today is the exception.

Some books can be read anywhere: bus, cafeteria, airport, laundromat, etc. Given a choice, I would rather read at home, in a quiet house, comfortably relaxing in my favorite chair, maybe a glass of wine at my side. Truth be told, some books demand a quiet environment.

Last week I finished one such book, John Steinbecks, East of Eden. I chose to read East of Eden because it's a classic, and requires a higher level of focus. Sometimes that is what I want from a book. It did not disappoint. Additionally, it's soon to be a movie. I want to have the novel read before I see the movie. All the stars aligned.

I jotted down brief character descriptions as each was introduced, so when I inevitably reached a critical juncture, I wouldn't be flipping back through pages asking myself "who was that again?" (Maybe I should save the wine for my next book.) In my defense, East of Eden spans seven decades, three generations and contains numerous characters. Once finished, I resolved that my next book would be a quick and easy read. My brain needed a break. The "quick and easy read" book is the one that left me with those lingering thoughts. It is the book I really want to get at. 

Recently I bookmarked a link to BuzzFeed Books: 53 Books You Won't Be Able to Put Down. After East of Eden, it was this list I was perusing when I found "The Curious Incident of the DOG in the NIGHT-TIME" by Mark Haddon. A fictional, best-selling, 393 page, two day, easy-breezy wonderful read. It's been around since 2003 and has been made into a Broadway play.
 
If you are curious, or have ever wondered about autism, or specifically, what it might be like inside the head of a child with autism, read this book - you can't go wrong.


Caveat: I am no expert. This is only one book with one perspective of one child with autism. Autism is a complex disorder and is not fully understood. It would be wrong to believe this book "captures it all."

The book does brilliantly capture the struggles of Christopher (the narrator and child with autism) and his estranged parents. There were moments when I felt anger and dislike towards all three of them. I thought the parents were particularly horrible at times. But I understood their overwhelming frustration and despair, and the reality of dealing with and accepting Christopher's disability: "This is how it is - we have no choice"
 

Christopher plans his day.

I couldn't help but cheer for Christopher. Conversely, I also wondered "what the hell is he doing?" Regardless, I very much wanted Christopher to succeed and resolve his problems. I marveled at his intellect. With Christopher as the narrator, I felt I had a first-hand view of his thought processes. I liked the authors use of illustrations to facilitate understanding. Once I knew what he was thinking, his actions made sense, even though his behavior remained unacceptable. What a conundrum. That is what left me with lingering thoughts. 

So what did I learn from this book? A need for empathy, increased awareness and understanding. Perhaps the next time I'm in a store and see a helpless parent standing next to a screaming, out-of control kid, I hope I have sufficient bravery to approach and ask, "Is there anything I can do?" I might get angrily shooed away and feel embarrassed. I might not be able to do a damn thing. However, maybe such a small gesture, is all that mom or dad needs in that moment.

Footnote:
The book is a work of fiction. The author is not comfortable with the label "Autism or Asperger Syndrome" when people describe his book, as he admits, he is not an expert in those areas. Further, he has stated "Curious Incident is not a book about Asperger's...if anything it's a novel about difference, about being an outsider, about seeing the world in a surprising and revealing way."  

FYI, film rights to the book were bought by Brad Pitt. 

Read it before the movie comes out!

 

Preserve Those Memories!

My parents: Jerry and Theresa Johnson

In one of my first blog posts, I mentioned inviting my parents to be "guest bloggers." Since then, I've been pestering them to jot down some of their favorite memories. They finally finished their assignment!  

Here they are:

It Could Have Been Ripley's Believe it or Not

Written by Jerry Johnson - 83

"Many years ago I lived on a farm, near Blue Grass,  Minnesota. It was the winter of 1942-43. I was 9 years old. We had an R.E.A. electric high line pole with a transformer in our yard. One cold winters day I saw something by it. There was a little snow on the ground but something looked different from the snow. It was an owl with a rat in its claws. 

                                                     Click to enlarge all pictures.

A young Jerry Johnson. How cool is that?

The owl had caught the rat then flew to the pole to have his lunch. But instead of sitting on the pole, it landed on the R.E.A. power line leading into our yard and was electrocuted. My dad and I took it to the nearby town of Wadena. The local paper took my picture holding the owl and rat. Afterwards, I found out the story made it out to a California paper. Strange things do happen!"

Poor owl, must've been a real shocker! But imagine what a find that would be for a nine year old boy! Dad says growing up on a farm in those days was hard work. Fields were still plowed using horses. He has some interesting stories. I've heard him tell the owl story numerous times and it never gets old.

Railroad Town
Written by Theresa Johnson - 82

"Staples, Minnesota was a railroad town and I was born there. Growing up we would say: 
 

"I'm from the Railroad Town. Toot, Toot. 
We make the wheels go round and round. Toot, Toot"

  

Staples Depot - mid 70's

Several freight trains would pass through Staples daily. There were always hobos riding in the box cars. Some of the hobos would get off the trains and look for food. We lived 5 blocks from the depot. My mother fed any who came to our door. 
She never turned them down. 

Grandpa and Grandma and the very
 steps those Hobos sat on.

The Hobos would pass onto others how generous she was. They would give others our address: 425 - 5th St North. Some days she would have 2 or 3 stop by. They would knock on the door - she would say, "Wait a couple minutes". Then slowly hand him a plate of hot food. They would sit on the steps  and eat it all. Then they would put the plate on the steps and leave."

Grandma Wrede - Isn't she lovely?

Typical Hobo

Grandma never had any problems with the hobos. They were always polite and humble. It was the Great Depression era, nobody had money. They were simply poor, hungry men wanting a hot meal. She fed the hobos for many, many years. Long enough for even my oldest sister to remember them. What a lovely testament to my Grandma and Grandpas compassion and generosity.

Staples, MN - Circa 1910

Railroads and railroad towns were the lifeblood of many rural communities back then. They employed many, including my dad and Grandpa.

Seattle - St. Paul Mpls. Northern Pacific Train - 1950's

Our family frequently took the train back and forth to Staples or Wadena to visit our Grandparents or other relatives. Passing from one car to the next was always a little scary. I remember feeling cold air, the rumble and sway of the train and watching the ground speed by below my feet. "What if they separated I wondered?" I always walked quickly! When I was 6, mom and I even took a train to Seattle, Washington.

 
Folks born around the years of my parents: Dad - 1932, mom - 1933 have seen the world change more then any other generation in history. Think about it...

Transportation: Horses, trolleys, the newly emerging automobile to ALL forms of mass transit and even space travel. 

Communication: Scratchy radios, shared party line phones, five channel TV's, to smart phones, limitless TV access and the instant anything internet. 

Not to mention the advancement of modern medicine.  They've witnessed the Great Depression, WWII, the Atomic Bomb, Korean war, Vietnam war, the Middle East wars and the rise of global terrorism.  


Except for the invention of the wheel and the discovery of fire, they've seen pretty much the invention or evolution of just about everything!!  

 






It's important to preserve their memories!!  

Thanks mom and dad for sharing your stories. Keep 'em coming!

PS: I think the ditty is my favorite, toot toot!  ;)

1972 - Sorry Mr. Westerhaus!

It never fails. Every time I am poking around in my old (and unorganized) photos, I come across "the picture." I'm starting to wonder, is it trying to tell me something? Possibly. I'll admit, every time I see "the picture" I silently hope that someday, I might run into the teacher I had that year, Mr. Westerhaus. 

Yeah, that's me - lower left corner.

If that day should ever come, I would first thank him for being an excellent (and patient) teacher, which he was. I would make some small talk and tell him that I grew up to be a happy and mostly normal person. I would thank him again. Then...I would apologize for all the headaches I'm sure I must've caused him that year.

  
I will relay one such incident, which in the context of today's classroom, is actually pretty mild.  

The Bees Knees.

A Hip mom or what?

Things were changing in 1972. It had only been the year before, thanks to the pushing of the "hipper" parents, (my mom being one of them - yea mom.) that girls were finally allowed to wear pants to school. This small town Catholic school, was no match for the newest, hippest trend of the 70's:  The Pant Suit. The men's version was known as a leisure suit.

Leisure Suit - I so remember Dad wearing these.

The early 70's also marked the beginning of the end for nuns being the primary teachers in the Lab school. One-by-one they were eventually all replaced by lay people. Mr. Westerhaus was one of the first. 

I was ten years old when my 6th grade school year began. Our second story classroom sat on the south-east corner of the school. The only windows in our classroom faced east, towards the church. (Before being retro-fitted to save energy, the windows were the size of the white square.) One cold, especially blue and clear winter morning, before classes started, Mr. Westerhaus instructed us to stand near the windows.  We were told to be silent and  reflective and watch the sun rise over the church. He indicated he was going to start some music, (to further enhance the experience, I'm assuming.)

The Lab School - uppermost left window-my classroom.

Already a smidge irreverent at 11 years old, "reflective, silent and watch the sun come up" seemed tiringly adult-ish, cheesy and boring. The music, Cat Stevens, "Morning has Broken" started, (the first three words of the song being the same.)  I don't know why, but something about that song...I could not keep a straight face. Distracting everyone I rolled my eyes, mock prayed, fake sang along, contorted my face, and laughed. Basically I made fun of (disrespected) him and what he was hoping (I'm guessing) to accomplish: experience the serenity of Gods presence in the wonder and beauty of the rising sun. 

I get it now, but obviously didn't then. What a brat. His "moment" was ruined. I was sent to the principals office (where I had a reserved chair...sigh) and duly reprimanded, which I deserved. (By the way, "Morning has Broken" was a chart topper that year and is actually a really good tune.)  

   

I don't know why I remember that story. I don't even know if it's a good story. But every time I come across that picture, that's what I think of. I also know that if I ever happen to see my teacher, Mr. Westerhaus, (now, 44 years later), I would tell him (awkwardly) I am sorry for ruining his "moment". It's never too late. Hopefully, we would both have a laugh over it. Last I heard, he was alive and still in the area...you just never know.

The St. Joseph Lab School Class of 1973:

What a fine group of 1973 kids...even the mischievous red-head.

Do You Believe?

Ever since I saw a fairy garden on display at a locaI greenhouse a few years ago, I was completely enamored. I've created many over the last couple years in whatever I can find: jars, leaky bird-baths, vases, flower pots, etc.

Fairy house under construction.

I usually tear them down once the seasons change. But wanting something more permanent, last summer I built a gnome house made of twigs and attached it permanently to a tree that sits near the road.  (As shown in slide show).

Think that's crazy? Well I'm not alone. A search of Fairy Gardens on Google or Pinterest will yield oodles of sites, clubs, stores and even contests of  a whole culture of people who have the same fascination.
 
Last fall, when my sister called to say she had some unused, unwanted, dumpster-bound bird houses and wondered if I was interested, sight unseen, I was quick to say "yes". When you're a crafter, you don't say no to much: there is potential in even the humblest forms of crap! 

Crap...

...or Fairy Garden accessory.

Don't throw those bottle tops away!

When I got them, I wasn't surprised to see they were kits: cheap, cookie-cutter style, "Made in China" Christmas-themed, wood birdhouse kits. And I couldn't have been happier! Oh the possibilities!! I knew my first project was definitely NOT going to be a cookie-cutter Christmas bird house. In more ways then just crafting, I've never been one to color between the lines!!

I tossed out the instructions. When it comes to fairies or gnomes...I don't want or need instructions. There truly is no right or wrong. Fairy/gnome worlds evolve, taking on unique personalities and almost magically, come alive before your very eyes. 

Plain Jane

Door and steps needed...

...and of course a deck!

Posts and prep for paint.

Color! (which later changed)

Now that's curb appeal!

What about the door?

Looking Good!

 


















With spring on the horizon, it was with much satisfaction that I put the final touches on my "cookie-cutter" gnome house.  

A little Greenery!

Cookie Cutter - Before

Transformation - After!!!

Eventually it will go outside, near the other gnome house, where I will surround both with flowers, plants, paths, lighting, bridges, fairies and gnomes. I can't wait!!!!

Still think this is crazy? Last year, during the warmer months, I occasionally heard voices outside. It was with a happy, smiling heart that I saw the neighborhood children (and even some adults) hunched over the fairy-scape, pointing, eyes wide, wondering..."how did this get here?" I hope that, if only for a moment, they were able to forget their troubles and believe in those welcoming, cheerful gnomes and fairies and their enchanting tiny world. I know I do!