Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

My first attempt at Strawberry Rhubarb Pie...

 

Not so bad looking and even better tasting!

The Debate: To Interpret or Not to Interpret

Interpretation of literature always brings up good debates in our house. As an English major I have been taught to look for meanings found within the pages of a book, whether it be in circumstances of plot, dialogue or narration; it usually drives Zac crazy. He dislikes when people dissect and analyze literature; he claims that no clear evidence exists to support the idea of an author wanting his or her writing to be interpreted in various ways. Well, I just made a discovery that substantiates the process of interpreting literature.

I recently finished reading The Name of the Rose, by Umberto Eco (Harcourt Brace & Co., 1980). At the end of my book was a postscript written by the author, which describes everything from the meaning behind the title to his thoughts on writing a historical novel. Imagine my delight when upon barely starting into the postscript–in fact the beginning of the second paragraph–I read this statement: "A narrator should not supply interpretations of his work; otherwise he would not have written a novel, which is a machine for generating interpretations." Aha! Evidence that the author is expecting even encouraging interpretation of his writing. He continues:

Nothing is of greater consolation to the author of a novel than the discovery of readings he had not conceived but which are then prompted by his readers. When I wrote theoretical works, my attitude toward reviewers was judicial: Have they or have they not understood what I meant? With a novel, the situation is completely different. I am not saying that the author may not find a discovered reading perverse; but even if he does, he must remain silent, allow others to challenge it, text in hand. For that matter, the large majority of readings reveal effects of sense that one had not thought of. (506)

Let's review: although an author may not have intended a certain "reading" or interpretation of his work, he is not necessarily opposed to having the work interpreted in a variety of ways. I can accept that certain analyses push too far becoming "perverse" (as Eco puts it), but I still find it enjoyable and thought-provoking to hear different takes on readings. I will continue to read for enjoyment, but I will still read critically, searching for connotations, etc., that I can relate some significance to and further my connection to the literature I read.

Our 4th of July

 For our 4th of July celebrations we went to the beach. The boys have recently been learning to surf and I loved having the chance to watch them in action. The waves weren't spectacular at this sight, and I'm not the greatest photographer in the water, but we really had a fun time.

Out of the Bubble: Life in the Real World

I recently corresponded with a friend about the difficulties of life after Wellesley. It seems that we, both, had the idea that after graduating from such a prestigious school we'd be able to easily find amazing jobs and lead wonderfully fulfilling lives. We have both had a serious reality check: jobs were few and far between and people weren't "rolling out the red carpet" (as my friend put it) to offer us positions. Then, often the positions, actually available, haven't been too intellectually stimulating. Thankfully, we have both finally found employment (I even like my job), but I still feel a bit dazed and disillusioned now that I am out of the school bubble. Now I'm living life in the real world once again.

What exactly does that mean? Well for my little family, it means that we no longer get discounted rates for school lunch, the electric bill or health insurance. It means that Zac and I both need to work so we can live and not just survive (at least in Hawaii), which then means we both come home tired. I give a huge high-five to all the women out there who have been working full-time for years, especially while raising a family. It is devastatingly tough. I miss spending the time with my boys; I worry sick about them and hope that I'm not screwing up their lives by working outside the home. Plus, I feel like I don't have any time for myself (no more free time for scrap-booking, movie-watching or piano playing); all my time at home is spent keeping up on laundry and dishes, etc.

However, I do see a bright side to all this real world upheaval. I've learned that I have an incredible husband who is willing to do more than his fair share of the housework while I learn to adjust to a new routine. This morning, I woke up late and found that he had cleaned the entire kitchen and living room and had started on the laundry. This morning is only one small example of the extra assistance I receive from this guy. On top of all of the housework help I receive, he encourages us to stay active (think lots of biking, hiking, swimming, surfing, scuba and of course volleyball); he helps me keep track of the boys' schedules–making sure he is home for them when needed to ease my pangs of guilt–and he even packs my lunch in the morning. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude for this amazing man.

I've also learned to appreciate more of the little things, like celery sticks in peanut butter, hugs from my kids, reading to Tyson at bedtime, sitting still with my feet up, listening as my boys relate funny stories, a good song on the radio, emails from family and friends just because, and especially the feeling of waking up on Saturday and Sunday morning to the sun shining in the window rather than the blare of the alarm.  It's all about the little things right?

So, I'm going to be super tired most days of the week. I'll probably want to pass out every time I open up the electric bill; and I'm pretty sure I'm going to want to quit a million times over, but if I can keep my perspective focused on the amazingly wonderful–though small as can be–parts of my life, and keep my dear husband at my side, then I think living in the real world will turn out to be its own type of bubble, aka: prime real estate.

Performing in "Pippin"

This year both Tim and Tyson performed in the high school play. The play was "Pippin." Tim had dual roles with another cast member; every other performance he was King Charlemagne or a Soldier/Nobleman. Tyson performed the part of Theo--a small boy whose mother falls for the main character, Pippin. The play ran for three solid weekends and all but two nights were sold out. Zac and I made it to all but a couple of shows (super proud parents). I couldn't believe how awesome they did. I really enjoyed watching them each and every time. Who knew we'd have a couple of actors in the family!!!

My Gift

I received this special gift on Mother's Day this year. I think it bears a striking resemblance to...

My First Homemade Lei

Tyson's cub scout group participated in a special Memorial Day activity at the Punchbowl cemetery. The Punchbowl Cemetery is a national memorial/burial ground for men and women who served in the armed forces. The official name is The National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific. Veterans from World War I, World War II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War, as well as their dependents are interred there.

The cub scouts were asked to bring small leis to place on all the graves for Memorial Day. For our lei we gathered blossoms (I believe they are plumeria) from the trees in our church parking lot. We gathered a bunch and had enough to make two leis. I think we did a fair job for our first lei ever. It was a fun project. The best part: they smelled soooo good!