The Hunger Games

Since I work with teens and am a YA author, I sometimes get requests from readers for recommendations of books for teenagers. There is a lot of fantastic young adult fiction out there right now. The market is growing, interest in literature is up—but that also means there’s a lot of junk to weed through. And, teens are incredibly impressionable, whatever they may argue to the contrary. Busy parents don’t always have the time to screen their kids’ reading material, so they ask advice. From people like me.

Well, fear not, YA book seeker. Today, I have not one but three books to recommend to you: The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins.

THE STORY

16-year-old Katniss Everdeen lives in District 12 of Panem in what was once North America. There used to be a District 13, but it was obliterated in a rebellion nearly a century ago. In retaliation for their treachery, however, the opulent, iron-fisted Capitol has implemented a way to permanently subdue the other Districts: The Hunger Games.

Each year, there is a reaping in the town square where one boy and one girl from each District is chosen to compete in the Hunger Games. The tributes, all between the ages of twelve and eighteen, are transported to the Capitol City where they are paraded around for the entertainment of the entire nation. After a week of parties and television appearances, the tributes are placed in an arena where they are filmed 24-hours a day—while they fight to the death. The last one standing is crowned the victor, winning a life of fame, leisure, and wealth for themselves and a year’s worth of extra provisions for their half-starved District.

When Katniss’ younger sister, Prim, is chosen as the mining District’s female tribute, Katniss volunteers to take her place. She promises her family that she will try her hardest to win, but she has her reservations about how far that promise can take her when there are healthier, much stronger combatants who have trained for this their whole lives. She’s malnourished. Her mentor is a drunk. And, her District is too poor to afford the extravagant gifts that could mean her survival in the Games. But, Katniss has something the others don’t have. A lifetime of surviving all the odds. A spirit of fire. And Peeta, the unexpected ally she discovers in the friendly baker’s son who is sent along as her tribute counterpart from District 12.

THE FINE PRINT

As might be expected, the series grows darker as it progresses. In a world where human life is treated with such contempt and disregard, what else can be expected? Suzanne Collins unapologetically paints a portrait of the atrocities of war, the depths to which humanity can stoop—and has. It is not, however, propagandistic, though it walks a fine line. Ultimately, it is a story of survival, hope, and the value of a human being.

There is some romance in the books, but nothing graphic. More importantly, as with everything in Collins’ books, the romance is very realistic. Nothing is sugarcoated or made simple. She is as honest about the manipulation and anger that can grow between lovers as she is about describing the glorious stirrings of first love.

Be prepared for a lot of violence. This is, after all, a series about teenagers murdering each other…among others. Proceed with caution. And, be ready to debrief with your teen. Some of the scenes, particularly in the third book, are intense. Know where you stand on the major issues that this book discusses: war, the value or expendability of human life, the choice to have children (or not) in a terrorized world, the justification of killing, righteous anger, extravagance and comfort in a world of poverty and oppression, what happens when personal morals come up against a greater cause.

Some people do not want their teens facing these things. You know your own children best. But, if you do hand over The Hunger Games (and I greatly recommend that you do), you need to be prepared for what they will find. I believe, though, that what they will find is truth, a mirror held up to grim nature, as it were. The world as it could have been, as it has been, as it is for many people. I have never believed in hiding the truth from young adults. Apparently, Collins doesn’t, either.

So, with those words of warning, let me say it one more time: Teens, read The Hunger Games. Parents, read The Hunger Games. Seriously, folks, read The Hunger Games. Oh, and you might want to buy the boxset because there are some gnarly cliff hangers!

But a Mother’s Heart is Weak

“A woman's love is mighty, but a mother's heart is weak, and by its weakness overcomes.” - James Russell Lowell

I confess I’m just at “one of those times” in my journey of motherhood. I’m busy, I’m distracted, I’m easily annoyed. I feel sometimes like I need a weekly spiritual retreat just to make it through the rest of the seven days without turning into an ill-tempered shrew. Unfortunately, this time of inadequacy happened to fall just when both my children have hit stages of development that require, how shall I put it? constant vigilance and discipline. Of course.

Of course.

“I don’t want them to remember me as a nagging harpy,” I wailed to my husband after dinner the other night. “But, then, I don’t want to let them develop into holy terrors, either.”

“I know,” he nodded as he cleared the table for me. “You just have to hang in there and pray. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

Yes, it will be worth it in the end. And, I don’t just mean when they are teenagers, or when they are “well-rounded, capable adults.” I mean the End. When we are together in Heaven…and I finally get a vacation!

There are no sick days in motherhood. There are no substitutes to tag in off the sidelines when you’re up to your ears in life and trying to stay afloat. These are the trenches, and this is the calling. There are days when it is splendid, unutterable joy. And, then there are days when you feel like you’d do better to just throw in the towel because your best efforts aren’t seeming to turn up anything but sour words and tears, anyway.

Of course.

Because we are just stewards, after all. These children—my children—belong to the Lord. He’s the one raising them, through my efforts and despite my failings. And, it is in my weakness that His light shines the strongest. For them. For me.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9

Maple Syrup Week

Recently, I had a reader ask me to divulge some of the secrets of my homeschooling endeavors. Well, frankly, since I’m still in year 1 of teaching only one child, I have yet to feel that I have any tricks of the trade worth divulging. However, I have learned that, as in many things, simple is usually best.

We open with a prayer and have our reading lesson. Then, we read a selection from the Bible (we concentrate on one story or Psalm per week). We might have a brief math lesson or listen to our favorite Bible verses CD. And, then we all curl up with a selection from our learning basket, a little basket of four to six books that  rotate weekly, which is kept on a special table that I lay with a seasonally-themed cloth.

Each week, I have a theme for our learning basket. If there is a holiday or Church feastday that falls during that week, the theme usually revolves around that holiday or saint. Other themes have included apples (our very first unit!), pumpkins in October, turkeys in November, the year, snow, owls, and this week’s theme which was very well received by both Sophia and James: maple syrup!

This is just about the time of year when New Englanders and Eastern Canadians tap their trees for sap and boil it down into the sweet, sticky stuff kid’s dreams are made on. Coming from upstate New York, maple syrup and maple sugar are a part of my heritage. I remember going to the local cider mill with my parents in the fall, and almost as much as the cider what I looked forward to were the locally-made maple sugar candies. Real, fresh maple sugar—the kind that is soft and pillowy and cleaves away gently to melt on your tongue—is nothing like the hard, stale, saccharine tidbits sold in most stores across the country. When I have the opportunity to taste real maple sugar, it is a true delight, a little taste of home.

Alas, I have yet to find a maple sugar tree in the corner of the country I now call home.  And, there are no sugaring exhibitions or festivals like the ones in the area where I grew up. (Those were the things this history-loving foodie’s dreams are made on!) But, that certainly wasn’t about to stop me from passing on this little bit of heritage to my sweet children—and having some fun myself, in the process.

As it turns out, my scientifically-minded daughter loved the unit. Mama loved recalling the old traditions and the history of sugaring. And, everyone loves syrup! James, in particular has a voracious sweet tooth.

This fourth week of March is the perfect time for a maple syrup week. March 25th (this Friday) is Annunciation Day, which oddly enough is the perfect opportunity to drizzle a stream of hot, fragrant syrup over crispy waffles. Varfrudagen (that’s Lady Day in Swedish) sounds very similar to Vaffeldagen (Waffle Day)! In honor of the feast, we’ll be diverging slightly from our fast to make the traditional Swedish waffles. Considering our fasting regulations this year, it is sure to make the feastday particularly memorable.

Making the waffles will be our hands-on project for this week (I always like to do at least one). If we had a maple sugar festival in the area, that would be a wonderful field trip. You could also just take your children to a park where sugar maples grow. I also love having something tangible for my children to play with that emphasizes our weekly theme. I had my eye on this adorable wooden maple tree, but never got around to ordering it. It should make a lovely surprise beside our book basket next year, though. I am certain that maple syrup week will be a repeat at the Cider Mill Schoolhouse for many years to come!

So, now it’s your turn, my fellow homeschoolers: What have been some of your favorite or most successful units with preschoolers?

Blessed Vernal Equinox

“Spring is God
thinking in gold,
laughing in blue,
and speaking
in green.”

- Frank Johnson

Fast-Friendly Fare for St. Paddy’s Day

Tomorrow is the Feast of St. Patrick. Normally, this holiday conjures up mouthwatering thoughts of corned beef, buttery wedges of cabbage, and fluffy boiled potatoes drenched in more melted butter. But, what do you serve to celebrate if you’re fasting—abstaining from meat and dairy?

Technically, the Church allows the relaxing of self-imposed fasts on feast days—and even encourages it. After all, as my pastor always says, “We are a fasting people, but we’re also a feasting people!” We like to maintain balance. If I had a large family that could polish off a brisket in a single day, I would certainly not hesitate to celebrate one of my favorite saints with his iconic corned beef dinner. But, we aren’t a large family yet. Just four mouths to feed, and two of those quite tiny. I could freeze the meat, but it seems silly to hold onto all that beef for a month.

In anticipation of this dilemma, I moved our corned beef feast to St. Brigid’s Day this year. For St. Patrick’s Day, we will be having a meat-lacto-ovo-free celebratory dinner of Colcannon and salmon. We will also take the opportunity to enjoy a pint of Guinness! (You can’t celebrate the patron of Ireland without Guinness, can you?)

Williams-Sonoma’s recipe for Colcannon is my absolute favorite. The only thing I usually do differently is to use ordinary green cabbage in place of the napa cabbage that the recipe calls for. However, in light of the Lenten season, I have posted the recipe below with appropriate changes to make it suitable for our fasting regulations.

Colcannon
adapted from Williams-Sonoma Kitchen
Makes 8 servings

2 ½ lb. russet potatoes, peeled and quartered
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
2 T oil
2 yellow onions, thinly sliced
1 large leek, white and light green portions, halved lengthwise, rinsed well, and thinly sliced
1 bunch curly kale, about ¾ lb., stemmed and coarsely chopped
1 small head green cabbage, about 1 lb., cored and coarsely chopped
2 T margarine

1 c. soymilk
1/8 t. mace or freshly grated nutmeg

Put the potatoes in a large pot, add water to cover the potatoes by 2 inches and generously salt the water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, reduce the heat to medium and cook until the potatoes are tender when pierced with a knife, about 15 minutes. Drain well in a colander.

Heat the oil in a large, heavy-bottomed Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the shallots and leek and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the kale and toss just until wilted but still bright green, about 3 minutes. Add the cabbage and toss until tender-crisp, about 8 minutes.

Mash the potatoes in the drained pot with margarine and soymilk. Season with salt and pepper. Cover the bowl with aluminum foil and set over a large saucepan of barely simmering water to keep warm. Stir the potatoes into the cabbage mixture. Sprinkle with the mace, and season with salt and pepper. Serve warm.

Free Vegan for Lent Download

One of my dear readers alerted me to this phenomenal resource. The free e-book is packed with menus, recipes, and ideas for observing a vegan Lent.

God bless!

Crockpot Split Pea Soup

This soup is incredibly versatile. It can be made with ham or bacon. You can also omit the meat for a vegetarian variation, using olive oil in place of animal fat and water in place of meat stock. The seasoning is so rich and the texture of the soup so velvety that you won’t even miss the meat, though of course, it will taste a bit different. You may use vegetable stock in place of water, also. It’s the perfect soup for a cold winter evening—even during Lent!

Crockpot Split Pea Soup
Serves 6

3 c. dry green or yellow split peas, rinsed well and picked over
1 quart meat stock, or water
1 ½ qt. water
½ lb. ham, cubed or diced (or 3 slices bacon, cooked and torn into small pieces)
1 T bacon fat, lard, or olive oil
1 onions, chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
½ t. garlic powder
2 t. salt
½ t. dried marjoram
½ t. black pepper
½ t. dried thyme
¼ t. dried sage

Add peas, stock (if using), and water to crockpot insert. Cover with lid and cook on high for 8 hours. Sauté the onion, celery, and carrot in the fat over medium heat until softened, about 7-10 minutes. Add vegetables and all remaining ingredients to crockpot when there are about 3 hours of cooking time left. Check the water level periodically toward the end of the cooking time, adding more water or stock if necessary, and give the soup a stir every now and again toward the end of the cooking time so that it doesn’t stick to the sides and bottom of the crockpot and scald. Serve hot, preferably with rye bread or another peasant-style loaf.

Ashes

My father’s final wish was that his body be cremated.

When he wrote that request in his empty office half an hour before he died, it had been nine months since I’d seen him. Nine months since I’d felt his arms wrap around me. Nine months since I held his rough, dry hands. Then, never again. Before I had even booked a plane to the West Coast, the autopsy was performed, his remains transported to the crematorium, and his body reduced to ash.

But, I paid for the process, and so the ashes came into my possession. Shipped first by US post to my mother’s house, they held the place of honor at a memorial service in my hometown to honor my father’s life. With cracking voice and red-rimmed eyes, I lit a candle and said good-bye.

My aunt found the box that we placed them him in. Brown leather, it reminded us both of his favorite couch, the one that travelled with our family from state to state, job to job, and eventually took up residence in the office of the company he began. Back in those days when he was so proud, so full of hope. So alive.

“I can’t believe I’m putting my big brother into a box,” she said that day when she brought it over for my inspection and approval. The words sounded a bit absurd. The whole thing seemed hugely absurd. How could this man, my daddy, the lover of leather couches, the entrepreneur, the big brother possible fit in this tiny box? And yet, we lifted the heavy container of ashes and together, we placed it into the little leather box. A perfect fit. A final resting place. We lowered  the lid.

When the service was over and it was time for my family to board a plane and return to our West Coast life, the box came with us. Many people don’t realize that you can travel by plane with a box of cremated ashes. We showed the certificate at the security checkpoint. For once, the TSA officials were deferential, apologetic, patient. They asked permission to examine the box, to examine what was left of my father. Ashes. Just ashes in a box.

Today, Ash Wednesday, marks the one-year anniversary of my father’s death. Today, my priest burns the palms from last year’s Passion Sunday service. He dips his thumb in the soft, gray remains and marks my forehead with a cross. The dusty smudge itches my skin. I do not wipe it away. I do not wash it off. It will stay there, a reminder to me and to all who see that this is what it comes down to.

And yet, we are more than ash.

My father’s wish to be cremated, I obliged, but he had one other wish. May he forgive me, I shall never fulfill his request to have his ashes scattered. I think it was my father’s desperate hope that this life was all there was, and that by ending his life, he could escape from everything. But, we are more than ash. One day, Scripture teaches, even the very bodies of the redeemed shall be raised to new life. This is why the Catholic Church rejects the scattering of ashes. It is one way we acknowledge that our bodies have value, that we are ever-lasting though this world is not, that there is more to come.

We are nothing but ash. Yet, we are also phoenixes, and from the ashes, we will one day rise.

The leather box sits on the piano for now, until the day when we finally make the arrangements to bury my father. I like to think that Da hears his grandchildren bang away at the keys and sing out of tune to words of their own creation. Sometimes, when the house is quiet and I am alone, I sing to him. I write him letters. I slip a birthday card beneath the leather lid. I am saddened that his warm arms, his rough hands are reduced to these itchy, gray particles in a heavy box. I am hopeful that, one day, his arms will hold me again.

For this I pray.

And, I am humbled in hope.

Shrove Tuesday Treats

Pancake Day. Mardi Gras. Fat Tuesday. Whatever you call it, today is the day for two things: a good confession and good food! I’ve been a-shriving, and now it’s time to feast! We used up every egg, drop of milk, bit of meat, and crumb of chocolate in our house this past week in preparation for our Lenten fast. I know, it’s a tough job, but somehow we saw it through.

Here’s what’s on our menu for the day:

Breakfast: semlör (Swedish Fat Tuesday Buns) in steamed milk, scrambled eggs

Lunch: buttermilk pancakes drenched in butter and heated syrup with tall glasses of ice cold milk

Dinner: steaks with shallot-red wine reduction, oven-baked truffled French fries, creamed spinach

Dessert: the last of the semlör - this time rather than serving them in bowls of warm milk, I’ll pair them with creamy mugs of hot cocoa

What indulgences will your family feast on this Fat Tuesday?

Books for Lent

Here is the book list I have compiled for this Lent. I prayerfully chose this list in the hope that it would convict me where I am comfortable, comfort me where I am hurt, and draw me closer to the person of Jesus Christ. I will be writing reviews as I make my way through.

What’s on your reading list this Lent?

54-Day Rosary Novena for Lent

In 1884, this novena was revealed to Fortuna Agrelli, the daughter of an Italian commander in Naples, by Our Lady of Pompeii. It’s method is fairly simple. You say the rosary for three novenas (27 days) in petition followed by three novenas in thanksgiving, whether or not the petition has been granted. Six novenas, back to back, makes for 54 days of prayer, hence the name.

A dear friend of mine raves about this novena—not only for its efficacy but because of the way it has transformed her faith and prayer life. She’s been recommending it to me for over a year now, and I have finally begun! I realized in looking at my calendar that by beginning the novena today, it would be completed on Holy Saturday. The timing was perfect for my intention, and I thought that others of you might enjoy jumping on board and starting a novena of your own.

To pray the novena, you must first select a petition. With this intention in mind, pray the Joyful Mysteries of the rosary. Tomorrow, you will pray the Sorrowful Mysteries, and on the third day, the Glorious Mysteries. You then continue cycling back through these three sets of Mysteries. The Luminous Mysteries are not recited.

I have included a chart below, care of fatimacrusader.com to help you keep track.