Author: Jaclyn

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (May 10, 2021)

Morning, friends! Happy new week, and happy belated Mother’s Day – I hope that those of my friends who were celebrating had a good time showering the mother figures in your lives with love, and if you’re moms or mother figures yourselves, I hope that you were pampered as you deserve! Steve worked his butt off and pulled out all of the stops to give me a good day, and I felt very loved and appreciated.

Rewinding – vacation week is behind me now, and it felt good to take a pause and a breath between jobs. I got out paddling twice – not as much as I had wanted, thanks to the weather, but better than nothing; on my second paddling day I saw three gorgeous great blue herons, and two hawks diving for fish – pretty cool. Later in the week I made an impromptu trip up to my parents’ house to get in a visit to my grandmother. It wasn’t a planned trip, but it was good to get there and to see a few people (my grandmother most especially). Rather than deal with the production of traveling with the whole family, I just brought Nugget with me, and he had a good time basking in all the grandparent attention. (I hear that Peanut enjoyed having Daddy all to herself for a few days, too!) Although it was a very quick trip, I managed a long visit to my grandmother and a wine evening with a family friend, and Nugget got to show his grandparents how his bike riding is coming along. (He now does tricks. Every one takes a few months off my life.) We drove back on Saturday and arrived home around lunchtime, then spent the afternoon bumming around the house. We were supposed to kayak with friends, but the weather was cold and rainy – so no go.

On Mother’s Day I woke up early and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I decided to lace up my running shoes and bang out a 5K. I’d registered myself for a local 5K with a virtual option, and signed Nugget up for the 1K kids’ fun run, and the deadline to get ‘er done was Saturday – but I figured one day late still counted. I ran the first 4K on my own and was pleased to find that my legs still remembered what to do even after weeks of being too busy to run (I know, I know). I swung back to the house and picked Nugget up for the final 1K and we finished the race together; he’s the best running buddy ever. After our race, Steve went out and picked up smoked salmon for brunch – yum – which he presented alongside my gift: an electric air pump to make inflating my stand-up paddleboard easier. Sounds weird, but was the perfect present for me. After brunch, we headed out for a hike at Seneca Regional Park. Lots of fresh air; just what I wanted. I spent the afternoon hanging around and reading, and then everyone treated me to takeout. All in all, a good day, and a good weekend!

Reading. You can tell I was on vacation last week, huh? It was quite the reading week – although heavily front-loaded. I finished The Geography Reader, Vol. I, the latest issue of Slightly Foxed, and Rhubarb Rhubarb: A Correspondence Between a Hopeless Gardener and a Hopeful Cook all on Monday. All excellent and absorbing, but I enjoyed Rhubarb Rhubarb most; I flew through it in one sitting. After that, I felt a guilty pull toward my library stack, and spent the week over The Last Mrs. Summers (good fun, and a nod to one of my favorite classics – Rebecca) and The Other Bennet Sister, which I liked but didn’t love. Ended Sunday night curled up on the couch with Spring, from Melissa Harrison’s quartet of seasonal anthologies; I can already say I’m enjoying it as much as I did Winter – so, very much. Next up I think I’ll have to return to the library stack, as I am out of renewals on Lucy Foley’s The Guest List.

Watching. Almost done with Secrets of the Whales from NatGeo; we’re into the final episode – on sperm whales – now. The episode features my favorite marine biologist, Dr. Asha de Vos (and yes, Steve and the kids think it’s hilarious that I have a favorite marine biologist) and I am anxiously awaiting her appearance. Nugget and I also watched a family favorite – The Sandlot – with Nana and Grandad on Friday night.

Listening. Mostly, I listened to a succession of movies on the iPad, which entertained Nugget while I drove to and from my parents’ house. Also a bit of music; not much. Hoping to get my attention back so I can finish my audiobook one of these days.

Making. Conversation, lots of it – with my parents, family friend, Steve (always) and my grandmother; although the last was mostly me delivering a lecture about whales. (What? My dad told me to tell Grandmother about some upcoming travel plans, which obviously involve whales because I have to be me.)

Moving. I’m glad to report that I am finally getting my running mojo back, I think. On Wednesday I drove over to Riverbend for a solo trail run, which was lovely – except that I saw a (harmless) snake on the trail and after that, every stick was a snake. I’m not afraid of snakes, but I have a healthy respect for them and don’t want to step on one. Obviously. And then on Sunday, I banged out a 5K at a decently fast (for me) pace despite having not run for weeks as I wrapped up my old job. Pretty pleased with that, and it’s always fun to run with Nugget. Oh, and my mom and I took a long walk along the riverfront in Albany on Friday, while Nugget and my dad rode bikes. Not a particularly challenging workout (we had plenty of oxygen left to discuss mystery novels, the British royal family, and how much we love President Biden – so we weren’t exactly breaking a sweat) but all steps are good steps.

Blogging. Bookish week coming atcha! I have my belated April reading round-up for you on Wednesday, and a Classics Club review on Friday. Check in with me then!

Loving. It’s the Monday after Mother’s Day, so I am thinking about how fortunate I am to be surrounded by loving, supportive, and special women – not only my mom and grandmother, of course, but also aunts, family friends who have been like mothers to me, and female mentors. And then there are dear friends who have mothered my kids, and my cousin and other friends who have become mothers recently. And of course, I felt so loved and cherished – not least because Steve worked so hard to give me a special day. It’s been a hard year for all of us, and it was just so nice to feel appreciated (by Steve, at least! ha!).

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Way-Back Wanderlust: A Day in Monet’s Garden

Two things: (1) it’s been a long time since I’ve been anywhere worth writing about, thanks for nothing ‘Rona, and (2) it’s spring and I’m craving color and flowers. So I thought it might be nice to take a few (or ten) turns in the way-back machine and show you snaps from Steve’s and my visit to Claude Monet’s garden, in September 2010 – more than ten years ago now, which seems incredible.

I had wanted to visit Monet’s garden since I was a little girl and read the classic Linnea in Monet’s Garden. When I was a bit older, my school used to take field trips to the Clark Art Institute in Williamstown, Massachusetts; I loved the entire – extensive – collection of French Impressionists, but Monet was my favorite. So when Steve and I planned a trip to France in 2010, I knew that Giverny was a must.

Like most visitors, I imagine, our top priority sight was the famous water lily pond. Living in D.C. by then, I had made many pilgrimages to the water lily paintings in the Smithsonian’s National Gallery.

The iconic bridge!

Although I was most excited to see the water lily pond, I surprised myself by loving the gardens closer to the house even more.

Monet’s pink house with the green shutters, hung all over with ivy, is iconic. (We walked through the house, but photos aren’t allowed inside. No matter – I had no problem blowing up a memory card in the garden.)

I loved the riotous green pathways, leading in every direction, with flowers of every color reaching up for the sunlight.

I had intended to ask my grandmother for a painting of this wheelbarrow, but never did. Maybe I’ll have the photo printed on canvas or wood, instead.

The crowds seemed to all head for the water garden, and we had entire pathways to ourselves, to wander and feel the enchantment of being in the place that so inspired Monet. A few days later, back in Paris, we visited his great masterwork at the Musee de l’Orangerie.

Someday, I hope to find myself back in Giverny. Until then, I’m contenting myself with these photographs from more than a decade ago, and remembering the warm sunshine and the heady aromas of the artist’s garden.

Are you looking back at old vacation photos to cope with COVID wanderlust, too?

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Shifting Gears, Mid-Career

I rarely write about work on here – and that’s not going to change – but I do want to take a moment to reflect upon and process a major professional change. And to talk about change in general, networking, and bravery.

As many of you already know, I’m a lawyer. Although I started my career in the federal government, I’ve been in private practice (i.e. law firms) since 2008. I’ve been at four different firms during that time, and each one has been a valuable experience in its own way. My most recent firm has been my favorite. I’ve gotten to do interesting work in a collaborative and supportive setting, with colleagues I consider cherished friends. Especially over the past year, I’ve often reflected that I couldn’t imagine “doing” pandemic work-from-home life anywhere else. And now I’m leaving.

Although I really love my firm, my ultimate career goal has always been to join a corporate legal department. (Or, “to go in house,” in lawyer parlance.) Over the years I’ve pursued this goal actively at times, and back-burnered it at other times. I’ve quietly applied to dozens of in house jobs over the years, and have come very close to landing a handful of them – cycling through periods of feverish activity, hope, disappointment, and leaning in at the law firm. In house jobs are competitive and difficult to land; as a former colleague who is now employment counsel at a defense contractor once reflected (during a lunch for the purpose of picking her brain about the prospect of a career move for me), “Law firms need a lot of lawyers. Companies usually only need a few. Or none.” And if you’re specialized, as I am, it’s even harder. To have need of (and a budget for) a specialized employment lawyer on staff, a corporation has to be fairly big. And the jobs that do exist are usually at corporate headquarters, most of which are located in New York City or on the west coast – not where I live, although more and more businesses are locating in the D.C. area these days.

So this goal has felt insurmountable, and for the past few years I haven’t really touched it. After what looked like my best chance at landing an in house job fell through in January, 2020, I decided that I was going to recommit to law firm life. And shortly after that, the pandemic started – and I really did feel grateful for my firm’s liberal remote work policies and my colleagues’ good-humored tolerance when my kids stuck their faces into zoom meetings or interrupted telephone conferences. I was finally in a good place; why change?

Then, one day, I logged into work a little early, and an email popped up in my Outlook folder. A partner from another office was circulating an opportunity to apply for a position as a labor and employment counsel in the legal department of a west coast-based tech company. The position was located at the company’s headquarters, all the way across the country, but “for the right candidate” they were open to allowing an east coast office, including in the D.C. area. I gulped, took a deep breath, and emailed him, simply: “Can I call you?”

He was free at 8:00, so I nervously dialed his cell and told him I was interested. We talked about the position and about my goal. (And I remembered a piece of advice I’ve given to dozens of junior lawyers over the years: most people genuinely want to help you, but they don’t know that you need something unless you tell them.) I submitted my application, and he recommended me to the team. Days later, I had an interview request.

As I often do, I overthought everything about the interview. On the phone with a friend who had joined another business line under the same corporate umbrella almost two years ago, I fretted aloud, “Is this a real interview, or are they just talking to me out of courtesy to R?” (She assured me that it was a real interview: “They don’t do courtesy interviews. They’re too busy for that.”) I spent hours on the phone with the same friend, and with my devoted BFF, Rebecca – also a lawyer – running through interview scenarios and processing wild mood swings in which I alternated between elation (“I think it’s my turn!”) and despondency (“It’s NEVER going to happen for me!”). After a whirlwind, and exhausting, two rounds of interviews – I got the job.

After confirming that they were still willing to let me work from D.C. – and that I wouldn’t have to move to the west coast, as cool of an adventure as that would’ve been – I accepted right away, and then spent the next week freaking out at the prospect of leaving a place where I’m happy and comfortable and walking into a complete unknown. (The last two times I’ve changed jobs, I was unhappy – for different reasons – with my work situation and needed a change. That wasn’t the case this time.) My soon-to-be new teammates seemed great, but what if they were just on their best behavior? What if they wanted me to work on Pacific time, even though I was on the east coast? Worse – what if I am terrible at the job? (The night after I accepted, I had a nightmare that I was placed on a performance improvement plan the very first day.)

I called the recruiter, whom I’d already peppered with logistical questions. “I just have one more question,” I said nervously. “Can you tell me about the team culture?” She gushed that the team I’m joining is great – one of her favorites. Twenty minutes later, my soon-to-be immediate boss was calling. Over forty-five minutes, she assured me that there was no expectation that I’d work on Pacific time (in fact, she liked that I was on Eastern time, since we’d cover more hours of the day) and that she didn’t expect to see me online at the end of her workday in California; that most of the group has young children and totally get it; that everyone was delighted I’d accepted; and that she was going to connect me with another teammate who had recently made the jump from a law firm and could tell me all about it. A few days later, I spent an hour on the phone with that soon-to-be colleague, who raved about the team and in-house life. “It’s such a freaking jackpot of a job,” she enthused. “You’re gonna love it!” There was no doubting her sincerity – and I finally pushed aside the last of my worries and embraced the change. “When are you coming?” she asked. I told her. “That’s soon! YAY!”

It’s scary to stand on a professional precipice. It’s scary to walk away from a place where you’re happy and where you feel valued. (When I broke the news to my current colleagues, reactions were extremely mixed – “SO happy for you, but UGH we’re going to miss you so much!”) It’s a leap of faith to pick up the phone and tell someone at your current place of employment that you’re thinking of leaving. What if they tell your boss, and you get fired for “not being a team player”? (I emailed the partner who had recommended me, to tell him I’d received and accepted an offer. He called, elated, and I thanked him for everything he did for me. “I did nothing,” he replied. “You got that job all by yourself. All I did was refer you. Believe me, they get boatloads of referrals from lots of people. You landed it on your own, and these jobs are not easy to get.”)

And then there’s the job itself. It’s in my specialty, so I am confident that I’m on solid ground substantively. But the technical skill set is very different. I’m expecting a steep learning curve, and my friends who are in house already have told me it takes about a year to get comfortable with the role. But I’m finally pushing those worries aside. I chased this goal for ten years for a reason. This job will give me the chance to do more of what I really enjoy (counseling managers, compliance training, high-level litigation strategy) and – as I said in the interviews – be a true business partner instead of just parachuting in, reacting to a problem, and then disappearing. It’s a good, if nerve-wracking, change. I will have to call upon a lot of bravery, but it finally is my turn.

Have you ever made a professional change? Any advice for me?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (May 3, 2021)

Morning, friends! This is my week off between jobs – my last day at my firm was Friday, and I start the corporate job a week from today – but I’ll try to keep my glee at being “on vacation” down to a manageable, hopefully not too annoying, level. I’m planning to spend as much of the week outdoors as possible, weather and pollen permitting. We’re supposed to have some thunderstorms, so those will keep me indoors but I’m hoping they’ll wash away the pollen and give me a couple of good post-rain hiking days.

So, how were your weekends? Mine started a little inauspiciously – I worked until about 7:00 p.m. on Friday, trying to wrap everything up (didn’t quite make it, but I did what I could) and came home to another power outage. Oof. The power came back on just as we were falling asleep, so extra fun. On Saturday, I was out the door early to meet my now-former co-workers for a farewell brunch. (Not that it’s really farewell – I’m going to a client, so I’ll still be attending office events, and I’ve been told that I’m officially a “client panelist” at every firm conference from now until eternity – ha!) Brunch was lovely – a little bittersweet, but there was lots of laughter. It was hard to tear myself away. Anyway – the rest of the day was low-key. Steve had to work pretty much all day, and Sunday as well – poor guy.

On Sunday, I woke up to blazing sunshine and climbing temperatures, so I decided it was time to get out onto the water. I packed up my paddleboard – a generous and already much-loved Christmas present, thank you Steve! – and headed to Beaverdam Reservoir, where we’ve hiked a few times and I’ve jealously eyed the paddlers who have been out on the water since March. Sunday, it was finally my turn. It took me a little bit to get the paddleboard inflated, but once I did I made a beeline for the water and spent ninety minutes tooling around the reservoir. I hugged the shoreline and didn’t go too far from the launch site; no sense getting overly ambitious on the first paddle of the season. Hoping I can get out again at least once or twice this coming week; Steve has to work and the kids are in school, so I’m planning to get in some quality time for exhaling before the new job starts up. It’s going to be a good week.

Reading. Not a bad reading week! It started and ended particularly well. I finished Spring Magic early in the week and absolutely loved it. It was one of those books that presents a real temptation to turn back to the first page and begin all over again; somehow I resisted. Turning to Magpie Murders, off the library stack, I was a little underwhelmed. It probably didn’t help to follow one of the highlights of the year so far, but I thought Magpie Murders was only okay. Probably won’t be continuing with the series, but I suppose you never know. I finished the weekend with a new acquisition – The Geography Reader Volume 1, by Elinor Brent-Dyer. EBD published four “geography” novellas focusing on different Commonwealth nations, and Girls Gone By Publishers has collected them into two volumes. The first volume gathers A Quintette in Queensland and Verena Visits New Zealand; at press time I’m nearly done and enjoying it tremendously.

Watching. Not a big week on the watching front. The kids have been such miserable housemates that “family TV time” has been suspended until they get their attitudes right. So – only about 20 minutes worth of Secrets of the Whales. Steve and I did watch another episode of The Crown on Sunday night. I know that show has its detractors, but we can’t get enough.

Listening. A little bit of All Creatures Great and Small on Audible, but mostly music. I’ve been so scattered over the past week, it was all I could focus on. Some Alexei Murdoch and lots and lots of The New Pornographers.

Making. Transition memos, motions to withdraw as counsel, final emails, and one last settlement-in-principle to go out on a high note. That’s about it. And I’m about to make a big leap into a whole new phase of my career.

Moving. Let me tell you: inflating a stand-up paddleboard to fifteen PSI using a hand pump is NO JOKE. That was the biggest workout of the week; made the actual paddleboarding feel like a breeze. Otherwise: some walks, a little yoga. I thought about running. Does that count?

Blogging. Normally I’d have my last month’s reading round-up for you, but that will have to wait for next week. On Wednesday I’m musing about career changes and bravery, and sharing (a little bit) more about my new job. And on Friday, scratching the travel itch by taking a few – okay, many – turns in the way-back machine and sharing some old pictures from one special day of a dream trip Steve and I took in the day before kids. That’s all the hints I’m giving, though! Check in with me then – it’s a good one.

Loving. Very few things provide the immediate boost that the return of paddling season brings me! My hands just feel right with a paddle in them. I’m usually stir-crazy and itching to get out on the water by mid-May, so I’m glad that the weather allowed me to get going earlier this year. Paddling is my favorite thing to do – yes, even more than hiking – and I’ve been waiting months to get my new paddleboard wet. I’ve got plans to kayak soon too, now that the heat is beginning to settle in, but it just feels good to get my feet wet and dig a paddle into the water.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Poetry Friday: The Truro Bear

There’s a bear in the Truro woods.
People have seen it–three or four,
or two, or one. I think
of the thickness of the serious woods
around the dark bowls of the Truro ponds;
I think of the blueberry fields, the blackberry tangles,
the cranberry bogs. And the sky
with its new moon, its familiar star-trails,
burns down like a brand-new heaven,
while everywhere I look on the scratchy hillsides
shadows seem to grow shoulders. Surely
a beast might be clever, be lucky, move quietly
through the woods for years, learning to stay away
from roads and houses. Common sense mutters:
it can’t be true, it must be somebody’s
runaway dog. But the seed
has been planted, and when has happiness ever
required much evidence to begin
its leaf-green breathing?

~Mary Oliver

That’s a wrap on National Poetry Month! Feels fitting to conclude with Mary Oliver. I love the imagery in this 1979 poem. I’ve never seen a bear in the wild, although they’re quite prevalent in the Adirondacks. Up in the Great North Woods, seeing a bear would be less of a matter for commentary than seeing Bigfoot. (For the record: I’ve also never seen him.) But I love the way Oliver, here, nods to common sense – it’s probably just someone’s dog – before dismissing logic in favor of happiness and fun.

Speaking of fun, did you enjoy National Poetry Month?

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The Classics Club Challenge: The Iliad, and The Odyssey, by Homer

Homer’s two epic poems of the Trojan War and its aftermath, The Iliad and The Odyssey, have been on my to-be-read list for years. Like with Moby Dick, I assumed they would be a major time commitment – and they were. More enjoyable, though – especially The Odyssey.

The Iliad recounts events from the final year of the Trojan War, while The Odyssey tells the story of one of the Greek commanders, Odysseus, and his extended, roundabout, journey home to the island of Ithaca. The Trojan War lasted for ten years, and The Iliad covers only a small fraction of the conflict. We don’t see the beginnings (when Paris carries Helen off to Troy, away from her Greek husband Menelaus) or the end (the famous Trojan Horse).

The Iliad opens with the tenth and final year of the war. There is dissension in the Greek ranks; Agamemnon, the army’s commander, has angered the god Apollo by taking, as one of his spoils of war, the daughter of a priest of Apollo. The priest appears at the Greek camp to plead for his daughter’s return, but Agamemnon doesn’t see why he should give up his cherished prize. Achilles, the most fearsome warrior in the Greek army, argues that the Greeks can little afford to offend Apollo (who agrees, and sends a storm to rattle the army). Agamemnon grumpily caves and returns the priest’s daughter, but he’s furious with Achilles – and to punish him, he confiscates one of Achilles’ war prizes, a young slave woman named Briseis. Now firmly at odds with Agamemnon, Achilles refuses to fight for the Greeks until Agamemnon pays for his nerve and apologizes. Achilles calls upon his mother, the sea nymph-goddess Thetis, who intercedes with Zeus on her son’s behalf.

As the waves of the ocean under a westerly gale race one after the other on to a booming beach; far out at sea the white horses rise, then break and crash thunderously on the shore and, one after the other, the Greek contingents moved relentlessly into battle. Each leader was issuing orders to his own command, but the men advanced in silence. You would not think so large an army was on the march or had a voice, so silent were they in fear of their commanders. Their ornate armor glittered as they advanced, rank on rank.

Zeus agrees to help Thetis show the Greeks what they’re losing by angering Achilles, and he intervenes in the war to turn the tide in favor of the Trojans. While Achilles sits stewing in his hut with his boyhood companion Patroclus, the Trojans – led by Hector – begin to rout the Greeks everywhere. The turning of the tide isn’t overwhelming, though, because plenty of gods are on the Greek side, as well – while Apollo and Aphrodite help the Trojans, Poseidon, Hera and Athena side with the Greeks. The squabbling on Olympus turns into a vicious tug-of-war outside the gates of Ilium.

I won’t tell you what happens – other than to say that Achilles is at the center of it all. His rage at Agamemnon, and love for Patroclus, drives the action throughout the book, even as he himself sits mostly idle. Eventually, though, the war does end, and the Greeks board their “hollow ships” and set off for their respective kingdoms. Most arrive home in fairly short order, to one fate or another. Menelaus and Helen rekindle their love; Agamemnon ends up murdered by his wife and her lover. Odysseus, however, is delayed… and delayed… and delayed.

Despite Odysseus’ diligent pouring of libations over the years, Zeus decides to have a little fun with him on his way home. He ends up washing up on an island occupied by Polyphemus, a feared cyclops. After Polyphemus eats about a third of Odysseus’ crew, Odysseus outsmarts the cyclops, blinds him, and escapes. Odysseus makes it off the island with what remains of his crew, but now he has a bigger problem: Poseidon. Cyclops are children of the sea god, and Poseidon is furious with Odysseus for blinding his son. Odysseus isn’t getting home anytime soon.

He spends the better part of the next ten years wandering, encountering sea monsters and witches, traveling to the underworld, and spending seven years as the prisoner of the goddess Calypso.

There sat Calypso with her braided curls.

Beside the hearth a mighty fire was burning.

The scent of citrus and of brittle pine

suffused the island. Inside, she was singing

and weaving with a shuttle made of gold.

Her voice was beautiful. Around the cave

a luscious forest flourished: alder, poplar,

and scented cypress. It was full of wings.

Birds nested there but hunted out at sea:

the owls, the hawks, the gulls with gaping beaks.

A ripe and luscious vine, hung thick with grapes

was stretched to coil around her cave. Four springs

spurted with sparkling water as they laced

with crisscross currents intertwined together.

The meadow softly bloomed with celery

and violets. He gazed around in wonder

and joy; at sights to please even a god.

Meanwhile, as Odysseus alternately pines for Ithaca and attempts to make it two nautical miles without a shipwreck (Poseidon is really mad, fam) things are not going well at home. Figuring Odysseus is never coming back, twenty noble sons of Ithaca have taken up residence in his house and are attempting to convince his wife, Penelope, to marry one of them. As the suitors eat and drink their way through Odysseus’ wealth, Penelope attempts to evade their attentions and her grown son with Odysseus, Telemachus, stews. Eventually, Telemachus sets off on an odyssey of his own, to try to find out what happened to his father – and whether he will ever come home and expel the “suitors” from the palace. I won’t tell you what happens in the end, except to note that The Iliad was extraordinarily bloody, and it would really be asking too much of Homer to suspend his love of gore for an entire epic.

At the risk of making this blog post as long as The Iliad or The Odyssey, a few final thoughts: I enjoyed both epic poems, but I liked The Odyssey much better than The Iliad. I’m not sure if that was the plot (who doesn’t like a rollicking adventure on the high seas, with goddesses and monsters?) or the translation (I read the new-ish version by Emily Wilson, a scholar at the University of Pennsylvania and – I think – the first woman to translate Homer). The best part of The Iliad was the petty squabbling by the gods of Olympus; I loved those parts but often found myself skimming the sections dealing with the battles on the ground, especially when they got too gleefully bloody for my taste. The Odyssey was more balanced and – frankly – more fun. I am glad I’ve read both, and I’ll probably re-read The Odyssey, at least, but not for awhile. I need to read something shorter, to recover.

Have you read Homer?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (April 26, 2021)

Morning, friends. How were your weekends? Mine wasn’t bad, overall. Steve had to work, which was a bummer for him – I probably should have worked too, but I just… didn’t. On Saturday morning we were out the door bright and early to hike; Nugget had requested a “hike we’ve never done before,” which tested my ingenuity, because we’ve hiked pretty much every park within a 45-minute or so range. (In case you couldn’t tell, we hike a lot.) But I found one spot we’d not yet tried, the unfortunately named Banshee Reeks Nature Preserve, and we headed out to explore. It ended up being a good find – multiple ponds, lots of birds (I regretted leaving my wildlife camera at home; won’t make that mistake next time), a network of intersecting trails to check out, and a visitor center with A PLAYROOM and an INDOOR BEE HIVE. (The kids almost would have preferred to spend the entire time there, rather than on the trails with us.) We headed home and knocked around the house for a bit while Steve worked, then shoved off to play some itty bitty Arizona Diamondbacks in tee-ball. Nugget fielded a grounder and actually tagged a runner out, the first time anyone has done that this season (on his team or any of the other teams we’ve played).

On Sunday, we woke up to rain, so we spent the morning knocking around the house. I logged some solid reading time on the couch while Steve worked and the kids messed around in the family room (Nugget has recently gotten into a video game, send help). The rain stop and the sky cleared up around midday, so we put on our rain boots and headed out for an afternoon hike at our local favorite, Riverbend Regional Park. It was a good one; we spotted both of the resident eagles and their hatchlings in their nest. I got some pictures – stay tuned. That was the high point of Sunday; things tumbled off a cliff shortly thereafter. I had big plans for a home-cooked dinner (chicken cacciatore) and a cozy evening of watching The Crown with Steve after tucking the kids into bed; all were scuttled when I was reducing the homemade sauce for the chicken on my (electric) stove and the entire house went dark. Moments later, I heard everyone shouting – Steve wanting to know what the backup plan was for dinner; Peanut in a panic because her bedroom light turned off; and Nugget having a meltdown because the TV had gone dark in the middle of his video game. Turned out, a tree had fallen across a power line one street over and our entire neighborhood was blacked out. Whoops. We made the best of it – takeaway Thai (I’ll finish the chicken cacciatore tonight instead), reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone to the kids under the skylights until their bedtime, and then chatting to my mom over the phone in the dark while Steve read by candlelight. Not quite the Sunday night I had in mind, but nice in its way. And now I have one more week of law firm life; lots to do in the meantime.

Reading. Pretty good reading week! I finished up A Bite of the Apple midweek – it was interesting, if slow in parts. (Glad I read it, and also glad I got it from the library.) Turned back to poetry and read Devotions, a wide-ranging collection of Mary Oliver poetry that my mom bought for me a few Christmases ago. So good – especially “Humpbacks,” which I’d never read before; I should have known that Mary Oliver would be a whale hugger like me. Saturday afternoon and Sunday – at least until the lights went out and Steve claimed all of the candles for his book – was devoted to Spring Magic, which I am LOVING. It’s one of those conflicting books where I am both dying to find out what happens (feverishly turning pages) but also want to read slowly so it will last longer.

Watching. I’ve been looking forward to Secrets of the Whales on Disney+ NatGeo for over a month, and it finally dropped on Earth Day! We’re watching with the kids, which means each 45-minute episode takes us three nights to finish because we never make it more than 15 minutes before someone sacks out on the couch. So we’ve watched the episode on orcas, and 2/3 of the episode on humpbacks. More whale fun to come this week! (Now that we have power back. It came on in the middle of the night; I checked on Nugget at 4:30 and found him smiling broadly: “Mama, the power’s back! I was afraid I’d never watch Dinosaur King again!”)

Listening. Still on a New Pornographers kick. I decided that I really needed to get a bit more up to date and listened to their 2019 album, The Morse Code of Brake Lights, instead of Electric Version. (Rolling Stone described the album as “anxiety pop” so…) Predictably, I fell hard for “Falling Down the Stairs of your Smile” and ended up listening to it on repeat. And a couple of podcasts – the April episode of Lia Leendertz’s As the Season Turns, and part of a 46 of 46 episode while driving to and from the grocery store on Sunday. The kids came along for the ride and found 46 of 46 especially hilarious.

Making. Well, there was that interrupted chicken cacciatore, does that count? A few other homemade dinners over the course of the week, too – I tried a recipe for cauliflower rice risotto, which was okay but not amazing. And a lot of filed emails; I want my coworkers to be able to find everything they need after I’m gone.

Moving. It was another week of just hiking, cleaning the house, and chasing after the kids – functional fitness. I say this every week. Hopefully I can find some time to get some more formal workouts in this week because I miss them.

Blogging. A Classics Club review of The Iliad and The Odyssey on Wednesday – good timing for National Poetry Month, right? And one final Poetry Friday of 2021. Check in with me then!

Loving. Have we talked about the Furrowed Middlebrow collection from Dean Street Press? I’m starting to compile quite a heap of them. On top of being so pretty (see the cover of Spring Magic, above) they’re a delight to read – they feel good to hold, and the selection of titles is so well curated; I’ve enjoyed every single one I’ve read so far. I love a small publisher or imprint, especially those that focus on forgotten or out-of-print classics.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Poetry Friday: Ballad of a Comeback Kid

I think I’ve posted music during National Poetry Month before – right? In any event, you know how sometimes a song speaks to the exact moment you’re in? I’ve been listening to The New Pornographers’ 2003 album, “Electric Version,” a lot lately, and especially to “Ballad of a Comeback Kid” on repeat. It’s become my anthem of right now.

Ever so careful, on the strip we cruise
Crippled in someone else’s shoes
Who knew? Mind you
I never had to stand in line, you did
For the ballad of a comeback kid

What’s YOUR anthem of right now?

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Themed Reads: Pretty Poetry

April may be the cruelest month – rainy, muddy, and (at least in my part of the world) crusted with the evil yellow pollen – but it’s also National Poetry Month, so at least we have that going for us! I have fun choosing poems (and sometimes songs, like this week) to feature on Fridays every year, but this year I’ve been leaning in extra and reading poetry almost every day. It’s been a delight, of course, not least because there are some extremely pretty poetry collections floating around out there. At the risk of enticing you all to judge books by their covers, here are three sets that I’m loving.

Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets. First off, you can’t go wrong with a classic. The Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets collection is popular for a reason. The dust jackets are gorgeous; the small octavo size fits easily into a tote bag – or even a coat pocket – and the volumes are many, widely available, and competitively priced. I don’t have a complete set, by a long shot. But I’ve gradually added to my collection over the years, and I’ve got some gems. My favorite so far is Poems of Gratitude, which I’ve read multiple times (it’s a particularly good choice for around Thanksgiving); next up, I plan to curl up with Poems of Rome.

Candlestick Press “Instead of a Card” Collection. I saw these on BookTube and was immediately enamored. These slim volumes contain ten poems apiece on a particular subject, and come with an extra-large envelope so that you can mail them to a lucky recipient instead of a card. I believe they’re sold in bookshops in the U.K.; I ordered a handful from overseas, via BookDepository. I’ve read Ten Poems about Walking; Ten Poems for Spring; and Ten Poems about Birds thus far – I need to decide whether I’m more in the mood for baking or sheep next. I dream of the day someone actually sends me a Candlestick Press volume instead of a card. In the meantime, it’s BookDepository for me.

Faber Nature Poets. Of all the themes in the general poetic landscape, I am on record as preferring nature. And since apparently no one does poetry collections better than Faber & Faber, I was naturally intrigued (see what I did there?) by the Faber Nature Poets collection. The set of six volumes – this is a complete collection – features six different poets who focused their writing on the natural world: Wordsworth; Keats; Thomas; Clare; Hardy; Coleridge. Again, these are not widely available in the U.S. (so far as I know – I’ve never seen them in stores) but I was able to get them from BookDepository. I’ve only read the Wordsworth volume so far, but I’m looking forward to curling up with each one in turn.

Volumes of poetry don’t strictly need to be pretty, of course, but it doesn’t hurt. I love seeing these lined up neatly on my shelves, and I’ve been enjoying making my way through each collection in turn.

Do you enjoy collecting pretty volumes of poetry?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (April 19, 2021)

Good (achoo!) morning! How were your (sniffle, sniffle, achoo!) weekends? I’d kind of like a do-over on mine. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad – I just felt out of sorts all weekend. I’m tired and a little frazzled; the pollen hit me hard on Sunday, Nugget had multiple injuries (the guy plays hard) and I’m unattractively jealous of Steve’s vaccine appointment. It’s brought out a really lovely color in me.

Last week was a whirlwind. I’ve vaguely hinted a few times now that I had something big on the burner, and this is what it is: I’m changing jobs. After spending most of my career in law firms, I’ve accepted a position in the legal department of a west-coast based tech giant. (I am not moving; although both the company and my team are based out west, I’ll be staying in northern Virginia and working from corporate offices here.) The past month has been an exhausting round of interviewing and overthinking everything, but I’ve made my decision and submitted my resignation to my current employer, and I’m finally starting to move out of having anxiety around this change, and into the realm of excitement. There’s a lot to do in my last two weeks of law firm life (maybe ever! although my boss did tell me, “If you don’t like it, just come on home” so I have options) and I’m staring down two weeks of feverish activity to get all of my cases in shape to be turned over to someone else. Two weeks to get it all in order, then a week off, and then – big changes ahead.

Anyway, the weekend was a tiny bit of a bust. I spent most of it stressing about transitioning out of firm life, angsting about whether I will ever get a vaccine appointment, and comforting Nugget through a string of calamities – a skinned knee on Friday; a spill off his bike on Saturday; a playdate in which his head seemed to be magnetically attracted to his little buddy’s on Sunday. The guy is covered in battle scars. And I attempted to read outside on Sunday morning; made it an hour before the pollen drove me indoors and I’ve been streaming from the eyes ever since. There were some good moments, though, I swear. Nugget had the best time at his tee-ball game on Friday afternoon; even did a jaunty little hop into home base on one run. (My Nats are also on a hot streak. It’s been a good week on the baseball front.) And in between head-crashing incidents, we had fun at Gravelly Point on Sunday, watching planes take off and land at National Airport with my law school BFF, Carly, and her family. Next weekend, though, I am hoping for a little more peace and quiet, and a little less blood and pollen.

Reading. It was one of those weeks of very little activity during the workweek, followed by feverish page-turning on the weekend. On Friday, I finished up The Odyssey – enjoyed it much more than The Iliad; I’m not sure if that was the plot or the translation, but in any event, it was good fun. I needed something short after hundreds and hundreds of pages of Homer, though, so I ripped through another Candlestick Press – Ten Poems about Birds, this time. On Saturday, I decided – no shade to National Poetry Month at all, but I need a break from iambic pentameter. Brain candy was called for, and The Heir Affair, off my library stack, delivered. The sequel to The Royal We departed from the strict Will-and-Kate fanfiction plot, but was just as much of a page-turner as its predecessor; I tore through 460 page by Sunday morning. Took a brief break to finish reading Betsy and Tacy Go Over the Big Hill to Peanut, and then turned to another off the library stack – A Bite of the Apple: A Life with Books, Writers, and Virago. I can’t resist a book about books, and I am very interested in the story behind the Virago publishing house. Spent Sunday evening curled up with it, and that was time well spent.

Watching. Most of the week’s watching was devoted to a three-part Rick Steves series about European travel tips; this is torture, but we keep putting ourselves through it. Will we never learn? 2023, Alps or bust! And on Sunday evening Steve and I also watched our weekly episode of The Crown. We’re getting close to the end of the fourth season. What to watch next? I’m angling for a BritBox subscription. Anyone have one?

Listening. What with all the upheaval in my career, I have not really had the mental bandwidth for an audiobook – or even a podcast – in the past week. It’s been music or silence. Mostly music; mostly The New Pornographers (or “Carl and Neko” as I refer to them in front of the kids.) One song in particular has become my anthem of right now; I’ll share it on Friday.

Making. A first aid kit for the car. Can you believe I didn’t have one? Clearly, Calamity Joe needs me armed with bandages, antiseptic cream, and medicinal honey pads everywhere I go. Next up, I think I’m going to repurpose one of my Stasher bags for a travel-sized kit that I can throw in my tote whenever we go anywhere. I was caught flat-footed this weekend.

Moving. Just a chasing-after-kids kind of week. I’m really feeling the lack of more formal workouts. I need to get back on the roads and the weights stat. I say this every week.

Blogging. Themed Reads on Wednesday, and it’s a National Poetry Month special for you! And on Friday, I’m departing a little from Wordsworth and Graham and cummings, and sharing some music (which is totally poetry).

Loving. Although I could do without the pollen, there is one thing about spring that always brings me joy: the return of summer shandy. (It gets warm enough, soon enough, here that April is totally shandy-appropriate.) I think it’s in the stores year-round, actually, but I notice it starting around mid-April. I brought a case home from Wegmans last week, and since I’m the only one who drinks it, it should last me a good long while. Related: I also picked up a new-to-me “beermosa” sour – Dogfish Head “Sunday Feels.” It’s not going to replace my beloved SeaQuench, but I am loving the blend of peaches, grapes, and tart citrus; this will be in the rotation all summer long.

Asking. When you eat Triscuits, do you also replay this scene from Billy Madison in your mind?

Also, what are you reading?