The pathetic “winter” of 2011-2012 has given me a case of un-seasonal affective disorder. I can hardly overstate how much I look forward to winter – the snow above all, but also the cold, the storms, the crisp blue-sky days…
This year, we’ve had almost none of that. With only a few brief exceptions, temperatures have been unreasonably high since November. Even worse, we’ve had just a few inches of snow, and plenty of long thaws in between the one set of flurries and another. And we’ve certainly had no all-out storms to enjoy.
All of this has brought me down, man. Most importantly, I’ve only been able to ski once – for half an hour, in my backyard. Absolutely unjust. Being horrifically under-trained, I’ve decided to abandon any plans to ski the classic-technique races at the City of Lakes Loppet this Sunday and the Mora Vasaloppet next weekend. I *had* been looking forward to both event for a long time, but already the Loppet has been shortened and confined to a loop course – not its full, full, wonderful point-to-point route. I don’t know what the Vasaloppet organizers are planning, but I do know there’s no way I could enjoyably do the 42k race I’d been anticipating for months.
In short, this winter sucks. I hope it’s a one-time thing, and that next winter’s back to something like normal. If it isn’t, I might have to invest next year in some sort of U-SAD mitigator, like a backyard snowmaker.
I’m not sure why, but I pretty much stopped blogging late last year, and only posted one or two things during January. The first of February strikes me as a good moment to get back to blogging, which I (usually) enjoy a lot. To get things rolling again, I thought I’d post something that I meant to post back at the beginning of the new year: a list of books I plan to read this year.
The list mixes old and new stuff I’ve always meant to read, and there’s no rhyme or reason to the list except that I’ve heard good things about all of these books. As it happens, in the last month I’ve finished a few of these books, and loved them. I’ll try to remember to post some mini-reviews of those books soon, and to keep up with posts on other books as I finish them all year.
Blair, Ann: Too Much to Know (2011, nonfiction – information overload in Renaissance Europe)
Carr, Nicholas: The Shallows (2011, nonfiction – polemic against the Internet’s effects on thinking )
Today I read an incredible essay by Meghan Daum in The Believer – “Haterade.” Equal parts autobiography and social commentary, the article analyzes hater culture on the internet – horrible comment boards on news websites or blogs, vitriolic email criticisms to authors, and so forth.
Maybe I’m naive, but I was shocked by some of the critical comments that Daum quotes. This made me pretty sympathetic to her critique of hater culture on the internet, which not only dumbs down the (often already low) level of discourse on the Web (and, now, in every other medium, since everything’s everywhere), but contributes to what the conservatives rightly call the “coarsening” of our culture. Not that I believe America ever was, or should become, a high-toned society, but really, we are not better off when anonymous haters can tell Daum:
What a pathetic, inept, and uninformed person you are. Your articles are brainless, and when I read them I think of how miserable as a person you must be. Probably a fat ugly little girl who needs to prey on others to feel better…A fat, ugly squashed bug.
Which brings me to my own current experience with internet haters: the anonymous and horrible crap that’s being vented by “readers” on the webpage for Shannon’s book. I won’t quote any of them, for at least four reasons: most are awful (being badly written, cruelly vitriolic, or both), many are stupid (betraying the commenters as very poor readers), at least some of them are coming from a person or people we know, and – most importantly – the negative comments are more than outweighed by the numerous thoughtful comments.
Now, don’t misunderstand me and think that I am (or think my wife is) a delicate flower who can’t stand being criticized. To the contrary: both of us learned in grad school to take some hard knocks and profit from them. I have to be similarly flexible (or bulletproof – pick your metaphor) to do my grantwriting at Carleton. And Shannon’s been a blogger for a long time, in which role she’s received some pretty awful comments.
But but but, there is a huge difference between, say, redlined comments on a grant-proposal draft and a “review” on Shannon’s B&N.com page such as
I truly expected a really helpful read, the answer to my many answers. Failed to live up to its title and expectations I had. ”
(Sorry, I couldn’t resist that one quote.) Constructive criticism exists to improve the writing to which it responds, and the writer and the critic are in a relationship that assumes the value of the writing. On the other hand, a half-literate “review” on B&N.com exists only to tear down the writer. It actually prevents any sort of meaningful connection between the reader and the writer, and rests, as another couple reviewers say, on the readers’ idiotic evaluation of the writing as a “joke.”
Thankfully, Shannon knows all this. A few days ago she called out the negative commenters in a post on her blog. In addition to requesting that anyone who’s read and liked the book post a comment to that effect on the book’s page, Shannon said (in part):
If you’ve been following along at home, you know that there’s been quite a bit of drama over at my book’s Barnes & Noble page. I’ve been blessed to get a ton of super-great, five-star reviews over there, which is thrilling and exciting. I’m grateful for every one. However, I’m being dogged by a troll reviewer who has been putting up hateful “reviews” for every good review that goes up, from the very first day of release.
…
Many of these comments have been flagged as abusive, off-topic, or inappropriate. My publisher and book marketing manager are in contact with Barnes & Noble regarding an investigation. But in the meantime, this person or persons is/are intent on continuing to bring down my ratings average by putting up a 1-star review for every 4- or 5-star review that goes up. (Fortunately, most potential buyers and reviewers are smart enough to notice the suspicious nature of these troll reviews, and more than one have actually mentioned it in the comments.)
As you should expect, the fact that my talented, hardworking wife has been attacked like this on the internet angers me, and I applaud Shannon for standing up to them. I (we!) value the exchange of views, even opposite ones, but I think the hate by the comment trolls is beyond the pale of normalcy or value. Which is probably why I felt such a strong jolt of satisfaction when Daum wrote in her Believer essay, “These days, being attacked isn’t just the result of saying something badly, it’s the result of saying anything at all.”
We’re all lucky that some of us are brave enough to say something good anyhow.
Late last year, I was flabbergasted to discover that one of the cool little shoes-and-clothes shops in our fair city was carrying kromer hats, which are the the de facto official cap of the Upper Peninsula. I had many a kromer when I was growing up, all purchased from the company in Ironwood that’s been making them for years and now calls itself “Stormy Kromer.” They’re great hats, no doubt, but cool? Apparently so – an argument substantiated by both their presence in that Northfield shop and, even more shockingly, in a list of “63 Perfect Things” in the February 2012 issue of Outside Magazine:
What’s even more amazing is that, seventeen items earlier, the land of the kromer is listed as another “perfect thing”!
I wish some of this U.P. cool would rub off on me, eh.
All right, friends. This blog has been awfully quiet for a while now, but I’m going to break the silence with another post on Shannon’s book.
As you know if you’ve recently read this blog or her own blog, you know that her book – The Essential Stay-at-Home Mom Manual – was published last month. Right now it’s available only through Barnes & Noble as an e-book for their “Nook” reader, but later this month the book will also be published in the traditional format (and be available in other e-book formats). Right now, the Nook version is available for just $5, which is a great price (if I do say so myself).
That’s the plug. Here’s the request: if you are a stay-at-home-mother or know one (maybe you’re married to one!), please go buy the book! Like I said, it’s pretty inexpensive, and I think you’ll enjoy the book on several levels – for advice, for tips and tricks, for hearing a voice that knows the experience of a stay-at-home mom. And if you do buy it and like it, please post a brief review on the book’s B&N webpage. Positive reviews will help raise the book’s profile as we get closer to the full launch (and, frankly, stick it to the jerks who are posting illiterate, uninformed negative reviews. Constructive criticism or polite disagreement, we can handle, but five-word smears? No thanks).
Thank you!
In return, I promise I’ll help you (or your loved ones) when you publish a book, okay?
I am ridiculously lucky to be able to take a lot of time off this holiday season, including all of the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Before Christmas, Shannon and I decided to make the most of this time by doing fun stuff with the girls each day. Early this afternoon, we headed over to the local bowling alley to turn a coupon for a free game into the Tassava family’s first-ever experience at the lanes. The girls were very excited.
However. When we arrived, the attendant told us that the whole alley was going to close down for a league tournament in just a few minutes. The girls were very bummed, and only partly mollified by a promise to come back the next day. Knowing we needed to salvage the afternoon with some sort of special outing, we went back out to the car to talk about an alternative. After a few minutes of conversation (Shannon, Julia, and me) and grumping (Genevieve), we hit on the idea of going to an indoor playground about 45 minutes away. (Such is small-town life that you have to drive most of an hour to find such a place.) We Googled up some directions and headed there.
The drive wasn’t bad, but both girls soon showed off their inborn travel-hating trait that makes us very leery of venturing very far from home – say, the city limits. After distracting the girls with everything we could, we found the playground. Admission was cheap and the place was relatively uncrowded. Julia started exploring right away. Vivi, on the other hand, was reluctant to do anything at all, and only gradually warmed up enough to try some of the toddler toys. Finally, after about 45 minutes, Julia convinced her to go into the playground itself. They played for a good half hour together, before Julia started getting tired out. Of course, Vivi was still raring to go. I worried the we were either one or both would have a meltdown, but Julia – being a great sport – dragged herself through the playground a few more times.
By this time, it was almost dinnertime, so Shannon and I decided to get a fast-food dinner on the drive back home, then head straight to a huge holiday-lights display at a farm outside of Northfield. We’d planned to see those lights on Christmas night, but the girls had been way too tired for it. They were game for our new dinner-and-drive idea, so we found a convenient McDonalds and then headed back towards home.
The drive was not a pleasant one. Both girls whined incessantly about “sore legs”, about being bored, about wanting to go home, about where in the world we would actually find these lights. After a solid hour of driving – not much in the grand scheme of things, but a transcontinental trek to Julia and Genevieve – we found the farm, which was in fact pretty incredible: a colossal light display put on by the family that owns the farm. The girls enjoyed driving around the displays a couple times, then we headed back home.
That drive was the shortest of the day, and it was only 7:30 p.m., but the girls were trashed, and acting like it. Speeding home, I took a shortcut on one of my favorite gravel roads. I was pleased that it both cut our drive down by a good ten minutes and that Shannon found it a bit dicey. Soon enough, we were rolling into the garage, and then upstairs for the bathroom routine and bedtime. The girls were probably asleep thirty seconds after I left the room.
If Mother Nature respected my wishes, She would have blanketed southern Minnesota in snow six weeks ago. In fact, I would have been happy with snow six days ago. But we’re still snowless here, so I figured that a solid gravel-road ride could stand in for my three-year streak of skiing on Christmas Day.
It sure did. The bright yellow sun and 40°F temperature were nice; the 20-mph westerly wind and my disturbing lack of fitness were less so. But any time spent riding is time well spent! The gravel was dry and pleasingly fast, the lack of clouds or foliage made for endless vistas, and there was plenty of fresh cold air to inhale.
Exactly one year ago – on December 23, 2010 – I skied for 45 minutes in the Carleton Arb. According to last winter’s training log, I’d skied a total of 12:27:48 by then, beginning on November 14.
So far this winter, I’ve skied one hour, a couple weeks ago, just after we received our only significant snowfall of the season. This is the sorry snow situation around here right now:
The only “snowy” stretch of Arb trail.
All that’s left of our sledding-hill jump.
The dwindling bank of plowed snow at the end of our block.
Over our lives together, Shannon and I have enjoyed some everyday accomplishments – buying houses, having kids – and some less-ordinary ones – earning doctorates. Yesterday was a day for a very un-ordinary accomplishment: the publication of Shannon’s first book. This is the culmination of a lifelong dream and a lot of hard work. It’s an amazing thing to see your wife’s book on the Barnes & Noble website. (Check Shannon’s blog for more details. )
True to tradition, Julia is making Christmas presents for the rest of us. She started making me a book – How to Be a Good Daddy! – but then abandoned it. This is a shame, given that the first page is GENIUS and because I would love to read the other chapters, especially number 6, “Get Rich!” (Click on the images to see bigger, more legible versions on Flickr.)
As the girls get bigger, sledding becomes easier and more fun. Already this winter, we’ve twice made the short drive to a relatively big and steep hill near Julia’s school – a hill they found too scary even last winter. They’ve loved it both times this winter, which I find exciting. And I’ve also been pleased that they’re willing to walk and pull their own sleds back up the hill – which makes the outing a lot easier for me, and wears them out like nothing else. Even better, they love to go down the hill with Shannon and me.
Today I fulfilled a longtime dream (really!) by building a little jump at the bottom of our small backyard “hill.” This slope has maybe five feet of rise over eight or ten feet of run, which means sledding runs are maybe three seconds long, but that’s perfect. The girls make up for the short length of runs with a high number of them. I’ve long wanted to make things a little more interesting by putting a small bump into the run – something like the jumps we would build on our sledding hills in the U.P. – but the girls always seemed to little and/or timid to be right for it.
Until yesterday. I dumped a couple sled-loads of snow into a pile at the bottom of one of the runs down the backyard hill, panked the pile down into a smooth six-inch ramp, and asked Vivi to try it out. Being the more adventurous kid, she did, and loved it. A few minutes later, Julia tried it too, and also loved it. So satisfying!
They laughed for literally a half hour straight, putting everyone they could think of into the game: themselves, their friends, classmates, fictional characters. And on and on. Santa’s a pretty soft touch; he hardly ever gives anyone – even the Ingalls girls’ nemesis Nellie Oleson – a poor rating.
Friday afternoon, as we headed downtown to do some window shopping, we admired the beautifully-decorated evergreen outside our neighbor Mary’s place. We mused about how it would be nice to have a nicely decorated tree outside our house too. Before I could even get to thinking much about how to make that happen, we’d run into Mary, who is both a wonderful neighbor and the co-proprietor of an amazing shop downtown. And before I knew what was happening, Mary had arranged a date with Julia and Genevieve to decorate our tree with her leftover lights and such. This was pretty exciting to them (and to me).
This morning, Mary showed up at 8:30 with a huge stack of decorations, but rather than starting, she told the girls that first they had to have ”design meeting” at the coffeeshop downtown, to discuss the decorations over hot chocolates. The girls’ excitement meter went up to about 12 out of 10.
At the coffeeshop, I sat nearby (because Vivi was still a little nervous), but not too close (because I wasn’t supposed to hear about the actual plans).
After downing the hot cocoa (Mary’s treat!), we headed back home and the girls got to work. First, they untangled a few of Mary’s many, many strings of lights.
Then they started wrapping the lights around the tree
and adding other stuff, like huge glittery silver stars, shiny tree boughs, and pink ribbons. In short, they girlified that tree.
Mary seemed to enjoy the whole experience as much as the girls did, and they loved it. I was worried about Vivi, who’s not always so good with people she doesn’t see a lot, but she did great. And Mary didn’t even balk when both girls, complaining of cold fingers, went inside to lounge in front of the fireplace while Mary finished the tree – which looked great after dark. This photo doesn’t do justice to its warm pink glow, but my goodness am I thankful to have great neighbors like Mary!
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