Time to Kill--What to Do?

Ok, so I don't have a lot of time to kill, but I'm looking for a hobby. Or an outlet. Or something interesting for me (read only for me, not for my family) to do. I'm transitioning. Don't know what the final destination is (or if there will be a final FINAL destination). But, right now, I'm not actively looking for work. I'm taking care of my kids full time and trying to finish getting settled into our house. There is of course always more that needs to be done. but, I want something that is just for me.

Right now, I read. I read a lot. I'm always in the middle of a book and a New Yorker. So, there's something that's my thing.

I went today to a institute class that's just started up. I used a precious day of kid trading to try it out. I felt antsy the whole time I was there, mostly because it was a big group of women that I didn't know very well and that makes me nervous. Introvert, all the way. If I can get past that, which I'm sure I can given some time, I'm not sure how I'll like it. It's a pretty big group, and I wonder what kind of individual interaction (my preferred way of getting to know people) I'll have. The women in the group all seem to be at a more advanced stage in life, with older kids, and some are grandmothers. I'm not sure what the discussion will be like and how open I will feel to discuss. I'm sure it would be good for me to study the scriptures with a goal in hand and have a weekly forum to feel responsible for some coherent thought. I'm just not sure, though.

I have looked into taking some classes at a community college or other local institution. I haven't found the perfect fit for time and class though. I'm still holding onto this option as a good possibility, with high desirability. I am thinking perhaps an art history class, Italian history would be cool, maybe Italian language.

There's also my Italian family research. I'll continue that no matter what. The downside to focusing most of my free time on this is that there is little/no social interaction, and even with the introvert that I am, I need to make friends.

Hmm. I'll have to think on this some more. A post for another day: my feelings about grad school/future career/passion for my field vs. need for general academic stimulation.
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Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavars

Ok, this is just a quick post on a book I finished a couple of weeks ago. It's by Mary Roach and it's all about all the interesting and amazing things cadavars are used for. One chapter is all about how cadavers are used to determine the forces that human bodies can endure in car crashes. Cadaver research was instrumental in designing seat belts and air bags. The intro chapter was about plastic surgeons practicing face lifts on cadavar heads. (It was a little freaky to hear her talk about them--the heads-- being in roaster pans.) And a chapter about a woody field outside of some university where they study rates of decay under varying circumstances, all to help forensic science. CSI all the way. Totally fascinating. And of course, a chapter on med students' use of cadavers in the gross anatomy lab.

It made me think about my death and what I want with my body afterwards. Definitely organ donation, no question about it. There was a section on the notion of where life resides in the body--when someone is brain dead, but their heart is still working, and how organs are harvested for donation. But, besides that, I have, up to this point, always favored a simple pine box. Now, I think, why even have a burial? There was a bit about green burials and turning humans back to the soil a la compost. Ideas like these have taken hold in areas like Europe where there isn't a lot of land for cemetaries, and those that are buried have only 30 or so years to reside there before the caskets are removed for someone else to take their place. Anyway, cremation seems like a good option too.

Very interesting book.
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Through the eyes of a child

During the summer months in Minnesota, my children rarely see night. With the sun disappearing, at last, at 9:30 pm, and reemerging well before they awake (thank you black out shades), they rarely experience summer night. Last week was an exception. We were booked on at 8:00 fight in order to travel to Utah for my sister's wedding. Due to recent tightened security measures, we planned to leave the house around 5:30 in order to be there two hours before our departure. T woke up at 5, probably because of our scurrying around with last minute packing. MJ was up soon after, and there was some down time for them before we needed to leave. I was in the kitchen finishing up some tasks when MJ came running in. "Mommy, mommy, you NEED to come outside! You have to come see the stars! They are so beautiful" I assured her that I would, after I finished whatever it was I was doing. She rushed back outside to the porch. In a few minutes, I went outside to find my two children, standing on the porch, holding hands, staring transfixed at the sky, and singing "twinkle twinkle little star" over and over. I was overcome with love for them and for their ability to be amazed and awe-struck at a truly beautiful sight. And I remembered when I too had felt the same way gazing up into the night sky.
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Shannon Hale

I have just read two of Shannon Hale's book-- The Goose Girl and Enna Burning . Both are young adult fantasy novels, with strong female protagonists. Enna Burning is a companion volume to the first.

While I quite liked both of the books, the most intriguing thing to me was the author herself. I know a woman who met Hales before she had published anything and she told me a bit about her. I also have read information about Hales on her website that describes how she wrote almost the entire book of Enna Burning with an infant sitting on her lap. I am fascinated with the idea of a young Mormon mother who has this rich and vibrant career, just taking off (her third book, Princess Academy, is a Newberry Honor book), and the idea that she can have this career while raising young children. Perhaps I should have chosen a different career! I am so jealous of anyone that has a career compatible with raising children. All the time I was reading, I kept thinking of Shannon Hales, the author, and what it might be like to be able to accomplish such a feat.

As to the books. Both of the main female characters, Isi and Enna, have the ability to communicate with nature--Isi with the wind and Enna with fire. When Enna's ability to communicate with fire starts to be personally destructive to her, she feels that she must renounce the gift in order to stay alive. But, at the same time, she is quite afraid of what will happen to her when she lets it go. She fears that she will be an empty shell of her former self--the feelings she has, a gift she has cherished. What would she be without it? (It turns out happily in the end, as she is able to develop the ability to speak with wind so that the powers balance each other out.)

I have been thinking some about this story. I have recently finished graduate school and am experimenting with staying home full time with my kids. I am so tormented about these decisions at times, and have really struggled to know how to balance the different parts of my identity. I feel like the talents and abilities I developed and honed during graduate school, as well as my strong feelings about feminism and career to some extent, are part of who I am and I feel that I am betraying myself? others? by staying home. If I stay home with my kids long enough, will these parts of me disappear? Will I be empty and barren in those places of me? Or will I be able to nuture them in some way other than working? Not sure. I'm not even sure that I am going to continue staying at home full time.

For now, though, I have decided to stop torturing myself over whether or not to find a job. It's all on the back burner now. I am focusing more on trying to figure out how my talents help me be the mother that I can be. Sometimes I think that my talents have no overlap with the skills needed for motherhood, and on those days, I am depressed and short tempered. But I have to believe that no matter who I am, the talents I have can be useful in some way for raising kids...
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These is My Words

I recently completed a book for my inaugural attendance at book group. Unfortunately, no one read it, everyone was out of town, etc etc, so book group did not take place. I was disappointed as I have been looking forward to casing out potential friends, general dispositions and personalities, and getting a handle on what the book group here is like.

Anyway, I read the book and it turned out to be pretty good.

These is My Words

This is a fictionalized diary of a woman who lived in the southwest in the late 1800's. Her life is full of Indian and homestead troubles. Her brother and father are victims of the trek in the very early days of the journal, and all around, her life is very hard. She marries a family friend, but the marriage is loveless, and after her husband dies in a horse accident, she finds her true love (takes her a while to realize this), marries him, and then he dies at the end of her journal too.

Supposedly, this is based on the author's great-grandmother who also settled in the Tucson area. I wonder though--can this many bad things happen to one person? Is this an amalgamation of all the kinds of terrible things that could happen to a woman in the wild west? It seems like it would be an unusual case where one woman's life is filled with so much tragedy.

I also had a hard time suspending my awareness that this was written by a writer, not a novice journal keeper. Who keeps a diary like this, with so many details as to advance a story like this?

In addition, though, to being a pretty good story, I found the insights on gender roles to be interesting. Even though Sarah, the narrator, could ride horses, shoot guns ably, and kill Indians, she was still very much in charge of home and hearth. I suppose that a lot of women were forced by neccessity to learn skills to keep their ranches going, to learn how to protect themselves from rattlesnakes, etc. But, the men portrayed here were seldom involved with caring for children, making meals, or cleaning their homes. Not too surprising, I guess, but Sarah really could do it all, as evidenced by the several years she ran her ranch as a single mother.
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Bellezza

Bellezza is the Italian word for beauty. It is also the root of my birth surname, which was modified back in the late 1800's when my Italian ancestors emmigrated to the United States. When I figured out the significance of my last name, I felt it was an appropriate moniker for a family of 7 daughters (and no sons).

I love my last name and was sad to give up its prominence when I got married. I now use it as my middle name.

Over the last few months, my life circumstances have been changing. We are in transition mode, both of us finishing graduate school (for me, it has been a very long road), moving from city life to the suburbs, test driving a mini-van, and AJ taking the job of his dreams. And me? Well, I've been staying at home to take care of my two kids.

My reactions have been manifold and varied depending on the day. But, the overriding reaction that I've had is a sense of lost identity. I feel that I have nothing interesting to say at the end of the day, and that I spend my time making sure macaroni and cheese doesn't get ground into kitchen floor and that MJ and T don't do bodily harm to each other. I feel empty. And somewhat claustrophobic--the physical clutching, grasping of my children, combined with a new residence and no friends here makes me feel, at times, depressed and desparate.

I'm not sure where I'm headed, nor where I want to head. I keep thinking that perhaps a part time job would be a perfect solution for me and my family, but it doesn't seem to be quite the right thing. Or at least, I don't feel like it's the right thing, even if I think it's the right thing.

Anyway, I see this blog as an outlet for me. I want to write about the books I'm reading, to comment about my life, to develop my opinions. I chose to name it Piazza Bellezza because this is my personal spot--to say what I want and what I feel, and to connect it to me and to who I am. I hope, in the process, to find more of myself and to develop the ability to see more beauty around me.
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