Book Review: The Keys to the Golden Firebird

The Key to the Golden Firebird by Maureen Johnson
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I picked this up from our local library after reading about it on YAnnabe, a friend's blog about young adult fiction. She had put it on a list of best "unsung" young adult books. With all of my heavy school reading, I thought I could use something a little lighter and intended for a young adult audience. This enjoyable read fit the bill.

It is a refreshingly not-fairy-tale look at a family of three teenage girls and their mom coping with grief after the father unexpectedly dies of a heart attack. While there are some serious topics here, the story includes a real-life mix of the full-spectrum of experiences and emotions. I really enjoyed Johnson's writing and, at times, she had me giggling out loud. Also, with my recent family-of-origin work in school, this book really captures what it is to have an "assigned" role within the context of your family (so many places I look, I see a little Murray Bowen going on). May, the main character, shows what it is to better differentiate yourself from your family and help your family shift in a positive direction in the process.

I will definitely be checking out Maureen Johnson's other books as I really liked her writing. I would recommend this book to any woman who enjoys young adult fiction and who is looking to revisit the ups and downs and trials of the teen years. Also, I recommend it to anyone who can appreciate a reminder of how we sometimes unconsciously surrender our agency and transform to some "other" in the context of family.

Grace's Animal Sounds

A conversation that has taken place a several times in the last couple of days:

Liesl: What does a cow say?
Grace: Moo
Liesl: What does a duck say?
Grace: Back Back [her version of Quack Quack]
Liesl: What does the cat say?
Grace: Mao Mao [her version of Meow Meow]
Liesl: What does the dog say?
Grace: Hi.

So Grace has been surrounded by dogs since the beginning. She hears them bark and we talk about them barking. We also talk a lot about them barking as one of their ways of communicating. When we are in kennels, shelters, or at our house, "Oh, is that dog saying hi?" "Those dogs are telling us hi." "Do you hear those dogs saying hi?" I guess she did. Cracks me up.

Book Review: Love's Executioner

Love's Executioner: & Other Tales of Psychotherapy by Irvin D. Yalom
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
This is a must-read for any therapist, but beyond that, it is just a really powerful look at the human condition and what it is to be open, empathetic and supportive enough to help people become their best selves. Yalom's writing is approachable and entertaining.

The title refers to the therapist's role having to sometimes "kill" the irrational fancy of some loves. However, it also refers to love inevitably being executed by the human condition. In the end, our life experience is our own to be experienced alone (even if we are experiencing life hand-in-hand with another person). While this may sound grim, it actually is a positive --- it is the real connections that we make with each other which infuses life with meaning. And the richness of unique experiences that are our own make it an incredible trip.

The other thing I love about reading Yalom is that I learn so many new words. Many are words I have heard before, but in the context of SAT study cards or while reading the dictionary [yeah, I have been known to do that for fun]. He has such a mastery of our beautiful language that he pushes the boundaries of vocabulary to access the less commonly used words that perfectly capture the meaning of the story he is telling. It is just beautiful.

I would recommend this book to anyone who has ever been in therapy, considered therapy, or anyone that has ever pondered human relations and the human condition (there we go, I think that covers just about everyone [smile:].) I have a feeling that this will be on my to-give gift list as I just loved it. Such a wonderful, good read.

New words: capriciousness, insouciant, extirpated, insouciant, labile, leitmotif, perspicacious, sagacious, salubrious, sophistry

Update: No Made-In-China Resolution

Well, our New Years' Resolution is definitely impacting our shopping, but actually not as much as I thought it would. We had a few purchases in which our hand was somewhat forced to choose China:

• We successfully found a BluRay DVD player that was not made in China --- thank you Sony for providing us with this option. However, we could not find any cables for the BluRay player that were not made in China. Lapse.
  
• We are committed to not buying leather products with the exception of Grace's shoes (it is seemingly impossible to find orthopedically-friendly toddlers' shoes that are not leather). Well, Jeff needed new work shoes and the vegan shoes that we found were made in China. We chose made in China over leather. Seemed like the lesser of bad choices.

Other than that, those were our only "forced" China purchases this month. Another interesting discovery that I still don't quite understand is that at a single store, you can find the same shoes --- exact same color, size, style, brand --- made two different places. For example, I needed some new Converse All-Stars. The ones I have that are worn out are made in China. But I decided to look to see if perhaps they had changed their location of manufacturing. I was happily surprised to see Made in Vietnam on the first pair I picked up. I went ahead and chose some out in my size. Those were made in China. Hmm. I picked up a second pair in my size and they were made in Vietnam. I do not know if the skew number was different for the two, so is my buying the made in Vietnam ones really registering with the store that I chose made in China? I decided that issue just needed an email to Converse to explain my preference. I was very happy to discover I could buy my shoes though.

Not too shabby of a month though. We'll see what we find in February.

Love Those Primigi Shoes

In Her Primigis at Christmas

Grace has outgrown another pair of shoes. She now wears a size 6. With our Not-Made-in-China resolution, one might think it would be hard to find new shoes for her. One would be right.

However, last time we needed to purchase new shoes for Grace, I discovered Primigi shoes at Nordstrom. They are the only brand of toddler shoes that I have found that are not made in China. Primigi shoes are orthopedically friendly for kiddos her size, they are quite handsome, and they are made in Italy. Alas, they are made of leather, but in our guidelines for buying shoes for her, something had to give. Her last pair held up extremely well, and we are not so easy on our shoes around her. She was quite comfortable in them.

Yesterday we ordered a second pair for her, this time in brown. No doubt we will put them to the test. And I have confidence they will do quite well. Brand loyalty deserved.

Finding God at the God Park [A Bit of Fancy]

I had been living in what was then my new city for about 6 months. I was 25, working my first job out of grad school, and everything was going well. I liked where I lived, my work, and the people I had met so far. However, I kept having this niggling sense that something was missing. It was as if there was a hole somewhere in me that needed to be filled. Yeah, I was single, but I figured that would take care of itself in time. No, it was something more. People kept offering the answer over and over in different ways.

Co-worker: "Would you like to come to my church with me on Sunday? It is a fun church and there is a great fellowship."
Billboard: "I'm listening. -God"
Flier in my mailbox: "New to the area? Single? Just looking for friends? Come to Young Singles Wednesday Nights" at our church

However, it was one night on the phone with my best friend, Lynette, that pushed me over. We talked almost every night, but that night the 500+ miles between us felt like forever. We were talking about how good things were, but how I just wasn't feeling as good as I thought I should.

She hesitantly started, "Don't be mad at me, but do you think you are looking for God?" She knew I had been raised in a nonreligious household, and, while I had been to a couple churches with friends, church and religion really held no appeal for me. But she knew me better than anyone and had never brought it up before, so I listened.

"Maybe you are right. I don't know. But where would I even begin? I don't even know where to start or what religion I would be."

Lynette, not letting me get off that easy, said, "Just pick a church and go. If you don't like their god, to to a different one. What do you have to lose?"

She had a point. It could not hurt.

The next morning on my run, I received a sign. Or at least I saw a sign. Stapled to a telephone poll, it read:

Come Find a God at the God Park
This Sunday from 10 am - Noon
Under the title was a map with a star on it (presumably the location of the God Park?) and a telephone number for questions. I entered the number and location in my phone and finished my run.

It seemed very strange, but who was I to buck such an amazing coincidence. I envisioned something similar to the health fair they had at work --- a park with booths for different churches offering their God. And really that was just what I needed. I did not know anything about God outside of academics and literature and, here, just as I was thinking of trying to find God, was an event for me to find my God. Throughout the rest of the week, I toyed back and forth with calling the number to get more information. Ultimately I decided against it for fear that they would keep calling me once they had my number.

I reflected on what I was looking for in the God I would hopefully find at this God park. Me, being the same Shelley Kappler I have always been, decided to make a list:

• Meaning
  
• A sense of togetherness and fellowship
  
• Volunteerism and giving back to the community
  
• Being a part of something bigger
  
• Feeling involved and needed
  

I looked over my list and decided it was a reasonable set of expectations and thought it sounded like what other people find at church.

Sunday morning rolled around. I got dressed in a dress pants and a sweater as recommended by Lynette ("Every church has a different unofficial dress code. Just dress neutrally until you figure it out which one you are going to join.") I drove to the intersection that had been on the flier and parked in a gravel lot. I did not see any booths but did see a lot of people in a fenced area.

As I made my way over toward the fence, a bubbly woman, probably in her 30s, approached me with a smile and her arm reached out. I smiled back and glanced at her name tag which read, "Hi. My Name is Tap," as I extended my hand to shake hers.

I started, "Hi. I'm Shelley Kappler. Thanks for having me out here today. I am excited to look around and see if there is one that is a good fit for me."

"Nice to meet you, Shelley. Patricia Lawson, but everyone calls me Pat. Thank you for coming. We have some great dogs here today, so hopefully you'll find the right one for you."

The record scratched. What?! Dogs?! I looked back at her name tag and it all registered with me. Excellent. Apparently I was at the Dog Park and Pat (or Tap should I say?!) was going to help me find a Dog.

Not wanting to embarrass myself more than I already was, I followed Pat as she invited me to join her in the fenced area. I was simultaneously mad, amused, and just astounded at how I ended up here. Here I was [insert sarcastic tone here], following my sign to find God, so I might as well stick around.

I entered the fenced area and instantly five dogs came running up to greet me. There were other running and chasing each other. Some were hiding under benches looking scared. And then there was a little cluster of dogs marking and remarking the perimeter staking claim to this being their park.

I knelt down to pet the crew that came to greet me. They wagged and licked my face and almost pushed me over telling me hi. I could not help but laugh out loud. Yeah, this was not such a bad place to stumble into. After throwing the ball, petting numerous pups, laughing at some hilarious antics of a 40 lb dog trying to sit in the water bowl, I went back over to Pat.

"So all of these dogs need homes?"

"Yes, all were in trouble in some way or another. Our group saves strays and goes to shelters to save them from euthanization when we can. It is a drop in the bucket --- too many are put down --- but we do what we can. We always need more volunteers and more adoptive homes."

I could not believe it. All of these happy waggly pups were to be put down or worse had Pat and her group not saved them.

Pat continued, "We have a really nice group of volunteers. We are just people who love dogs and wanted to make a difference, to give something back. We save lives together and have developed some great friendships while doing it."

I smiled. Pat caught my far-off look and switched directions, "Anyways, no pressure to volunteer or anything. We are just happy you came out today to look at adopting one of our dogs. Let me know if you have any questions."

She jauntily walked away to rough house with one of the dogs that had gone running past us.

I pulled out my list and looked at it. Shaking my head and laughing to myself, everything on the list was right there in that park with these dedicated people and this wonderful motley crew made up of happy, shaggy, sad, playful, scared, and beautiful dogs.

Two weeks later, I ended up adopting one of the dogs I met at the park. Since then I also volunteer with the same rescue group I met at the park that day.

I found what I was looking for at the park that day. I have found my fellowship and I have defined a bigger purpose for myself. That sense of something missing is no more.

Now, whenever I grab the leash to take Sal, my sweet wonderful dog, to the dog park, as he dances excitedly around me, I jokingly say, "Let's go to the God park."

Post script. It is funny because Pat and I have become great friends and we talk several times a week and work together regularly at adoption events. Interestingly, I have never heard or seen any signs of her dyslexia since. I never told her why I showed up at the park that day. But, then again, I found what I was looking for, however I ended up getting there.

Goodbye Emmitt

I received news that one of our former fosters, Emmitt, passed away. We fostered Emmitt last summer when he first came to the group. He came to Tzu Zoo from a local area shelter where he was due to be euthanized as he was too decrepit to adopt out. With the condition he had been in, it was hard to determine how much of his pitiful state was due to neglect and how much was due to his old age. Our group decided to take him in, even it was to be as a forever foster, to give him a chance to know what it was to be cared for and loved.

I picked him up from one of our groups vet where they saved him down and gave him an initial physical. My task was to nurse him back to health as much as possible and to determine if there was any good quality of life for him. When I went to the vet to pick him up, he could not really walk. He kept falling down and would just lie there. I picked him up, loaded him the car, and told him he was safe. He came to our house and slept for about the first three days with not much activity beyond my carrying him out to go to the bathroom and taking him over to the water bowl. I would bring him food and he would eat, but mainly he just slept. He did not seem to be in active pain and so we just let him be.

Napping In A Spot Of Sunshine

After a few days of staying with us, he started to check out his new surroundings. It seemed he was deaf and had some shadowy vision, but not full vision. His back legs had no muscle tone (I have never seen a dog with such little muscle tone). Perhaps he had been chained or caged where he could not walk. I would support his weight and help him get around. He increasingly became more active, enjoying strolling around the yard and following me around the house. He would not climb the stairs, but liked to rest in spots of sunshine on the bottom step. He also loved playing in Grace's play house wall. He would go in and out the door repeatedly. I am not sure what it meant to him, but he was happy and wagging when he did it.

And sweet Emmitt loved having his head rubbed. He would lay his head in my lap and never tired of getting pet and rubbed. There was definitely good quality of life left for this dog. He was old and gray, but once he started to feel better, his tail and affection did not stop.

Emmitt went on to live in one of the best possible forever foster homes with a family that fosters many of our forever foster seniors. He continued to improve and knew five great months of love and happiness.

I was sad to hear that Emmitt "crossed the rainbow bridge" as our group puts it, but I am so glad that he died knowing he was loved and cared for. We all foster and volunteer in our group for different reasons, but one of Jeff's and my main loves is to help the seniors. I am glad that we had the pleasure to know Emmitt, learn from him, and help him along his way.