Winter Perks

Things I Will Miss As Winter Ends

1. No need to mow the lawn. It's covered in snow.
2. Layers. Lots of layers of clothing.
3. The fact the sun isn't high enough in the sky to mess with the garage door. (The sun activates the motion detector so it won't go down.)
4. Darkness when I want to sleep.
5. The fact the town is cleaner in the winter.

Things I Will Not Miss

1. Shoveling snow.
2. Snow piles.
3. Snow.
4. Snow falling off the roof and freaking us all out.
5. Negatives temperatures.

What I Found On The Floor

I discovered Harry Potter on the floor of my room.

Read that statement a few times. I'll wait.

So? I bet you're wondering what Harry Potter was doing on my floor, right? I'll tell you: waiting to be wrapped.

Freshman year saw the second year I wrapped the family gifts. In the box my mom had left on my floor, I found Harry Potter. I took it out of the box, saw the note and looked at it curiously. For one, my mom was under the delusion my brother was going to read a book. Second, it looked interesting to me. At the time, I was a rather big fan of fantasy stories, having just polished off every single Tamora Price book I could get my hands on. I opened the book and read the flap.

After reading the flap, I read the first chapter. (Yes, I read the first chapter of a book not meant for me, but my brother. I doubt he actually read the first chapter, as evident by his later "book reports" he did for school.)

After polishing off the first chapter, I wrapped the book. I figured my brother wouldn't read it. I was proven right a few days later, which upon opening the book, he looked at it as if he'd opened up a rancid package of meat. Tossing the book aside, he moved onto bigger and better things.

That night, I took the book. And devoured it.

My first time reading it, I don't remember how carefully I read it. I do remember my mother telling me that the next book was coming out shortly.

I didn't read book two till after book three came out, as that was when Harry Potter reappeared in our house. The summer after book three came out, my mom (or dad, I'm not sure who) ordered them for me. I read them that summer, eating them up as if they were chocolate.

I was in love with Harry Potter. I recognized the brilliant writing. The way Rowling wove the story amazed me. Granted, I didn't appreciate this until I started re-reading things, which I did not begin to do till I was a senior and bored out of my mind during study hall. At first, I just re-read the first book, as the movie was coming out and I wanted the story fresh in my head. This was the first time I began putting pieces together. But the time I finished my second reading of the first four books, I was amazed at how tightly the story was wound together. And I still had three more books to get through.

But, I was in awe. I wanted to be Rowling. I wanted to write like her, layer hints in, layer in symbolism and construct a web as she has done within the Harry Potter universe.

I also learned the value of the re-read. I plow through  books so quickly the first time I read them, I miss things. I blow over major things in order to get to the end. I am not patient while reading. This is why sometimes I find books boring. Once I know how it'll end, my reading usually goes better.

As the last three books of the Harry Potter series were rolled out over the next five years of my life, I gobbled them up as soon as they arrived in my house, sometimes against the wishes of my parents. For instance, once while I was left home alone shortly after Half Blood Prince showed up, I was supposed to be cleaning my room while my parents were off doing something that invovled socializing with relatives. Getting a jump start on being a hermit, I remained home. With the Harry Potter book, which called to me: READ ME! READ ME!

I had been advised not to read the book. We were going to vacation soon and my mom told me I ought to have books to read while sitting in a cabin in Tennessee.

I didn't listen. I read Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. In the day my parents were away when I should have been cleaning my room.

I don't think I told them I had read it. I re-read it when I should have been reading it the first time. The only good this really did in the end, my dad was able to slowly read it while we were on vacation. (He reads Harry Potter super slow, so not to miss things. I just read them millions of times over.)

By the time the last book came out, I had graduated from college. I only remember I had graduated, because the weekend the book showed up, Pilot Boy was in my life, as the weekend I read the book, he was BORED. I had to read it and Pilot Boy doesn't read. Or know how to entertain himself while I read. (He still hasn't figured this out.)

My favorite books are three and six. I'm super proud of myself, because I guess correctly who RAB was. After I saw that at the end of Half Blood Prince, I was like, "I KNOW WHO THAT IS!" I picked up on the hint, right away. I felt wonderful when I read the last book and was proven correct.

Since the last book came out, I have re-read the whole series at least three or four times. While I was working in St. Louis, I read the series twice through while riding the train downtown. (When I had to tote around book four and book five, my shoulder hated me.) My books are worn, beat up, and spotted with stains. They are well loved and they are British.

Yes, we had two sets of books in our house: American and British. As a freshman, I decided I wanted the British versions. My aunt and uncle got the box set of the first four for me, then added on the others. Are the British ones different than the American ones? Yeah, actually. The first three are very different, due to the fact they use all the British slang that was taken out to make it understandable to Americans. By the fourth or fifth book, they stopped. But, I love the British ones because they are British, so they use British punctuation and spelling. I'm weird.

When I was thinking about books that have impacted my writing, I knew I had to cover Harry Potter. And I knew I had to start with how I found Harry on the bedroom floor.

It Won't Stop Snowing!

I live in Alaska. I know it snows. I know it ought to snow quite a bit.

PLEASE STOP SNOWING.

I can't see while driving. I'm pretty sure my yard is going to be FULL by the time spring finally shows up. And it won't be un-FULL till summer. (Yeah, it's that full.)

After thinking it was hazardous to drive through the streets due to snow MOUNDS, not street conditions, I took Basil out to the backyard. Okay, I let her out the door and she shot out.  Pilot Boy, months ago it seems, carved paths for the poor mutt when the snow got too deep for her to swim through on her own. She had been only using her well beaten path to the tree and never tore around the yard. But she's got paths now.

Though, under the tree is still her favorite spot.

I'm sure if she could, she'd chew that tree to bits. It did crack earlier this winter and a huge branch fell down into the yard during an ice storm. Since then, Basil Bea Dog has been slowly chewing the tree away. Today, while I was out with her, she discovered part of the branch that had been buried. I was minding my own business checking out our snow covered yard when I noticed her digging. Basil Bea loves to dig. It's an activity she learned from my father and brother during her stay in Chicagoland. Before she watched them dig a huge hole for the drywell for the sump pump, Basil Bea did not dig. Now she digs. Often. Today, she went digging in the snow. Strange on many levels, I went over to see what she'd found.

It was a STICK.

Basil Bea also learned to love sticks during her stay in the Chicagoland area. She learned to love a lot of things while there: walking, cold weather, snow, sticks, digging, turkey, carrots, cheerios, sleeping like she was drunk...(Side note: I miss my little drunken sailor. That bed bit the dust, so I no longer get a performance of Basil Bea hanging her head over the side of the boat.)

So, while Basil Bea dug and chewed on the branch, I ventured down the paths Pilot Boy carved. Partly to beat them down, partly to get far enough back to capture the snow on the roof. So, off I went.

Then I fell off the path. Right down into the snow up to my thigh. I was unable to photograph that, so I took this one, where it was up to my knee. I managed to get myself out of the hole, with Basil's help.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Basil was no help.


I fell in a few more times in my attempts to get myself back on the packed path. Basil came over after I was topside and sniffed out all the holes I'd made. Evidenlty, they smell good.

I did finally get a photo of the snow on the roof. The snow that is on the bay window, there? The snow is creeping again, away from the roof. It's annoying.

I also looked at everyone else's roofs. Even the people who "cleaned." We all look like we've got the same amount of snow.

It was snowing while I had Basil Bea out this afternoon. It has just finally stopped after a few hours, thank god. I don't think I can handle another major snow fall. Unless it takes out the tree in the backyard fully. I hate that tree.

First "Real" Book

I didn't learn to read till I was in fourth grade. And by "read" I mean, read at the level I ought to be at. I didn't comprehend the object of reading. I memorized most of the things I should have been "reading." I did not read chapter books. Or books without pictures. Ten year old Ireland wanted to read picture books. Ten year old Ireland should have been reading chapter books. I didn't read for enjoyment either. I checked out the same kindergarten level books from the library I'd been checking you since I started going to school (or so my mother tells me).

In fourth grade, my parents sent me off to get help.  I figured out that reading could be fun. So, I began reading.

And have yet to stop.
The first "real" book I read on my own with out prompting was called Nobodies and Somebodies. I assume this book was bought by my mother at the book fair or something. I have no clue where I got the book. I do remember reading it. Multiple times. I love this book. It's got almost all of my favorite subjects. And, when I read it, it had all my favorite topics. What were these:

1. Popularity.
2. Friendship.

That is what this book is about.

The book also began my life long love affair with alternating viewpoints. I'm a sucker for the following things in books:

1. Alternating viewpoints
2. Famous people
3. International travel
4. Books set in London/UK/Ireland/Scotland

Nobodies and Somebodies has only one of those things, but when I was ten (or eleven), those things didn't fascinate me as they do now. However, clubs did. When I was growing up, forming a club was a big deal and sometimes I dreamed about. I was usually the kid that was excluded from the clubs kids at school formed, even though I knew the kids who were in this club and they were "friends." It frustrated me to no end, but because I am kind of lackadaisical about things, I didn't do anything.

But, I still dreamed about being the popular girl, the one with all the clothes, the one who was forming clubs. So, this book spoke to me.

This book has three characters telling the story: Laura, Janet, and Vero. Laura's the new girl (another thing that peeked my interest as a kid, I was never the new girl), Janet was the girl who wore thick glasses and befriended Laura right away and Vero was part of the trio of "popular" girls, aka the Somebodies. Laura is completely fascinated by the Somebodies, who all sit on a window ledge in the classroom each morning. They also have a spot on the playground that is just for them. Laura wants to be one of them. But, Janet tells her this is a bad idea, as Janet thought she had made it in the club, only to be replaced by new girl Vero, who was cooler.

Snubbed by the Somebodies, Janet rebels as Laura gets sucked in deeper into trying to impress the group, by forming a club called the Nobodies.  She invites everyone (save Laura and the three Somebodies) to join the group. And hijinks insure.

This book, while rather simplistic when I re-read it the last time (when I was in college or just graduated, I don't remember) was still the foundation of my interest in writing. I loved the story so much, I wanted to recreate it on my own level. I began writing in earnest at this point in time and my stories basically kept the themes of this book. And they were told from different point of views. I like getting different viewpoints and I love writing from different viewpoints.

The first complete story I wrote when I was in eighth grade was inspired by this book. It was the first story I wrote that was written correctly and clearly and had a plot. It also had a beginning, middle and end. It was told by two characters (Asia and Deja). Asia was short and not very pretty, but the popular girl. Deja was the pretty one but wasn't popular. There was cheerleading involved. The story ended with a battle between Deja and Asia, where Asia finally embraced her nerd side and admitted she hated being pouplar and was happy to just be with her friends. Not the best story, but it was a start.

RAB deals with a lot of the same themes that Nobodies and Somebodies did as well. Granted, the characters in NAS are in fifth or fourth grade and RAB's characters are all in high school, but they are rather similar. I can see a lot of Vero in G, A is rather a lot like Laura, while T is kind of like Janet. Or not. I don't know, I never really liked Janet.

I have no idea where the copy of Nobodies and Somebodies went. Last I saw it, it was in my room on the bookshelf above my desk. Upon moving out, I don't think I took it with me. Or it had gone MIA. I don't have it here with me (unless its in that missing box of books I swear I have). I know it's no longer in my old room at home, as most of my belongings have been cleared out of there. I've got no clue where the book that set me on the path I'm on right now is. Tragic. I think I'll order a new copy.