tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32984956315469153102024-03-05T08:41:34.455-05:00Fig and Thistle ..... burning the candle at both ends .....Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.comBlogger749125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-58212826681084339162013-05-10T11:25:00.002-04:002013-05-10T11:25:48.667-04:00Goodbye, Blogger!<div>
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<div>
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<div>
I'm so glad I didn't cancel my WordPress blog
completely, because I've decided to move back to WordPress and good
riddance to Blogger. There are several reasons I'm moving:<br /></div>
--
Folks are getting dangerous site notices on my blog at times. I have no
idea why. This has only happened with Blogger and not with WordPress.</div>
-- The Blogger App on my phone SUCKS. </div>
-- Blogger ditched GoogleReader and I worry that Blogger is next.<br /></div>
So back to WordPress it is.... Wander over there some time today and you'll see a cute picture of Persy Jane.<br /></div>
www.figandthistle.comAmanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-54851544872459077822013-05-05T17:23:00.002-04:002013-05-07T16:03:38.382-04:00Rough Magic: a Biography of Sylvia Plath by Paul Alexander<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If you've read my blog for more than five minutes then you know that I'm a bit of a Plath fanatic. My love of Plath has manifested itself in many different ways since my first discovery of Plath when I was about 11 or 12 years old. It was about 1992 and my mom and I were in a gutted department store at the giant, annual library book sale. It was fire sale day. For $5 one could fill a giant paper sack full of books. And fill bags we did... lots and lots of bags. As a bookworm with a love for the classics I threw in every stinkin' book that even looked enticing or if I sense an author name was familiar into the bag it went.We went home -- the day was rainy -- with the car trunk loaded to the brim. It took us several weeks to get the books inside; we'd smuggle a few a day and add them to the shelves in an attempt to avoid a lecture on "too many books in the house" from my father.<br />
<br />
A title that left the car on the first evening and found a home on my bookshelf headboard was a yellowed and battered copy of <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11632.The_Journals_of_Sylvia_Plath"><i>The Journals of Sylvia Plath</i></a> (the Hughes-approved McCullough edition). I devoured the book. At this time I was hitting puberty, I was angry, I read voraciously, and I wrote poems that made no sense and usually involved ridiculous amounts of blood. Plath's journals -- at least this version -- focused on Plath the writer and Plath the Depressed. I believed these things had to go together if you're a girl. As Bikini Kill sings in <i>Bloody Ice Cream Song</i>: <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The sylvia plath story is told to girls who write<br />
They want us to think that to be a girl poet<br />
Means you have to die<br />
Who is it<br />
That told me<br />
All girls who write must suicide?<br />
I've another good one for you<br />
We are turning<br />
Cursive letters into knives</blockquote>
My middle and early high school self worshiped Plath as a poet and as a mentally ill person. I truly believed that the sadder one was the better ones poetry (and we all know that isn't true). In fact, my mom would take away my Plath and Sexton and other women poets because she said they made me maudlin. I don't think they "made" me depressed, but it made it okay for me to be sad and angry and smart in a world that wanted me to be complacent and pretty and Christ-like.<br />
<br />
In my later high school years my perception of Plath altered slightly. As a burgeoning feminist I was dismayed by Plath's death and personal life seemed to over shadow her genius as a writer. Other women writers I loved had the same issue: Anne Sexton, Shirley Jackson, Edna St Vincent Millay, and Virginia Woolf were all "broken." It was implied that this brokenness or illness caused these women to write or at the very least had a hand in the genius of the writing. On the contrary, Dylan Thomas and Ernest Hemingway and other "writers with issues" were primarily writers with personal lives, mental illnesses, and suicide seen as a mere footnote. To say I was pissed would be an understatement. I resolved to only adore my favorite authors, Plath was one of them, on the merits of the writing.<br />
<br />
And then I had a baby my freshman year of college. I was pursuing creative writing and had plans to go to graduate school and travel and write books of poems and be a single mother to the most perfect little girl. And I was going to do all of it perfectly. Now Plath was back to being a writing role model and I felt a great personal affinity with Plath as a mother and a depressed woman. I understood her anger. I understood how goddamn hard it is to write and mother. I understood how greatly stacked the world still is against women - especially women who want everything. Yes, Sylvia, the Fig Tree spoke to me, too:<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the
story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful
future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and
children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a
brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and
another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig
was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with
queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady
crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I
couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig
tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which
of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but
choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to
decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they
plopped to the ground at my feet. </span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;">~Sylvia Plath, <i>The Bell Jar</i>, Chapter 7</span></blockquote>
Now let's jump ahead to myself as a 33 year old married mother working in an academic library and, yes, still writing (although I don't share poems anymore). Having perspective and looking back on my life has allowed me to view Plath as an entire person. She wasn't just a sufferer of mental illness, or a scholar, or a writer, or a mother. She was a human. Her life had sadness and hardship and ended in an awful manner, but among all of that was happiness. Love. Kids. Success. Life. A whole lot of life.<br />
<br />
Paul Alexander's biography of Plath, <i>Rough Magic</i>, is the <i><b>first </b></i>biography I've read of Plath that paints her as a human. Not totally good and not totally bad. Sad and ill at times and yet joyful and well other times. His discussion of Plath's last year was also incredibly balanced. I've heard academics argue that Plath died because of Writing or Being a Woman in that Time or Ted Hughes being a Douchebag.<br />
<br />
Guess what? Plath died for many reasons. Her death is the culmination of pretty much every reason one would have for dying. Of course balancing life as a mother and a writer is one aspect and Hughes did behave badly which didn't help things. But there is also a family history of depression on her father's side and she may have had postpartum depression which wasn't recognized as a mental illness at that time, and actually mental health care wasn't all that great back in the day, and she had been ill with sinuses infections and the flu for months, and she was worried about money, and due to the awful weather the electricity kept cutting off and her flat was horribly cold. Alexander turns Plath from Poet-Goddess-Martyr into a flesh and blood human with a death that was sad, but not some fate-ordained ending. I even think he aptly portrayed Plath as <i>fighting to live</i>; her introspection and writing, her reaching out to friends and family, and her personally seeking therapy and medical help all point to Plath trying to fight against her illness. This romantic notion that madness begets poetry and of the Poetess "indulging" in sadness is bullshit. Alexander gets it right with his portrayal of Plath as a real person and not an icon of "insert movement" or a victim of a particular "-ism."<br />
<br />
I highly recommend this book to fans of Plath and those who enjoy well-written, non-fanatical biographies.<br />
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<i>This book was read for my <a href="http://figandthistle.blogspot.com/2012/12/2013-goals-of-bookish-nature.html">TBR Challenge</a>!</i><br />
<br />
<br />Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-14211651724287828352013-05-02T17:30:00.000-04:002013-05-02T17:30:02.013-04:00Itching to Read, OR, How World Book Night was Almost Ruined <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The idea of giving dystopian feminist novels out on a street corner like a complete nutter appeals to me on so many levels. I eagerly anticipated <a href="http://www.us.worldbooknight.org/">World Book Night 2013</a> so I could giveaway my 20 copies of Margaret Atwood's <i>The Handmaid's Tale</i> at a local coffee shop. <br />
<br />
To sweeten the deal my good friend Catherine was coming over for a visit. We had plans to cuddle baby Persy, give out books, and indulge in some treats (Catherine brought cheese, Earl Grey, and homemade whole wheat quinoa bread). Sounds like the perfect day, right? Catherine comes over. We gush over the baby. We gush over getting people to read. She brews a pot of coffee and we prepare to enjoy our day when... ... the daycare calls...<br />
<br />
... Atticus has a rash.<br />
<br />
I pick him up and take him to the doctor thinking that it is just his eczema flaring. We'll get him checked out, slap on a cream and take him back to daycare so he can enjoy a day outdoors with his friends. Of course, nothing is this simple. The doctor declares its SCABIES. UGH. I leave the doctor, call Sam, line up prescriptions and prepare for a day alone with an itchy tot, a baby, the washing machine, and a vacuuming session.<br />
<br />
OMG, what about World Book Night?! I cannot take a napless, parasite infested tot to hand out books. I want people to itch for reading, not just to ... itch. So I did what any dedicated book nerd would do- I charged my fellow comrade in literature -- Catherine - to hand out books for me. I dropped her off at the library -- a quick walk to the coffee shop -- and went home. But never fear, super husband appeared. Sam came home from work and stayed with the toddler and the baby. I joined Catherine on the sunny sidewalk outside the coffee shop. We ate bread and cheese and drank large cups of Earl Grey. And, of course, we gave away all the copies of <i>The Handmaids Tale</i>. We had the stack of books on the table and only gave away the books in fits and starts. I solemnly looked at Catherine and told her I thought I would know when someone needed this book. My days of handing out Bible tracks in middle school was going to pay off. We gave books to younger women, older women, younger men, older men and people seemed thrilled. Thrilled the books were free and thrilled it wasn't a religious treatise.<br />
<br />
I cannot wait for next year. Several of my friends are talking about doing a big event where we all give out different books in the same location. World Book Night is certainly a book event not to be missed. Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-87318880704809353072013-04-27T23:05:00.000-04:002013-04-27T23:05:40.869-04:00Happy Birthday to Me!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The past month has stressed this mama to the max. We're on a reduced income at the moment so there are financial worries. Then there was all the illness. I've had strep twice within the past two months, Sam had a sinus infection, Persy Jane had a terrible yeast infection encircling her neck and strep, and Atticus brought home scabies. The wearing down of my body, the hours of nursing, the caring for wee ones who are cranky with illness has taken a toll. The laundry piles, the bills back up, my husband I only see for snatches of time that are spent discussing children, money, and family worries.<br />
<br />
I put a halt on many of our plans and declared this past week a rest and mend week. It has soothed me beyond belief. There were still piles of laundry (thanks, scabies) and cranky kids, but that's just life. There were many instances of loveliness:<br />
<ul>
<li>I enjoyed sitting outdoors with a good friend discussing books and motherhood while we enjoyed large cups of Earl Grey, homemade whole wheat quinoa french bread, and thick wedges of delicious cheese.</li>
<li>My knitting group met. I had a delicious latte (decaf) made by an amazing barista, knitted a row or two, and laughed uproariously at a book about poop.</li>
<li>I spent Friday morning with my mom. We ate breakfast and chatted for hours.</li>
<li>Atticus has taken to waking around 5am and cuddling on the couch with me. </li>
</ul>
Today, my 33rd birthday, has been the best day.<br />
<ul>
<li>I had my morning cuddles with Atticus; he looked at me solemnly and asked where was my birthday cupcake. After cuddling with Atticus and nursing Persy Jane and waking the sleepy teen I was off to the coffee shop.</li>
<li>While at the coffee shop I participated in Dewey's 24-hour-readathon... sorta. I read three chapters of <i>Vanity Fair</i> and about 50 pages of a Plath biography and then I was pretty much done for the day.</li>
<li>The rain and cooler temperatures made for perfect reading weather and brightened my mood.</li>
<li>Sam brought me birthday tulips. </li>
<li>In the late afternoon/evening Sam and I found ourselves a baby sitter and went out for a few hours.</li>
<li>First we had some of the world's best pizza at Atlas Pizza. The restaurant was packed, but those silly pizza shop friends of mine cut off all the lights, brought me a becandled turtle brownie and sang a hilarious and ghastly rendition of "Happy Birthday." Then we had coffee and excellent conversation.</li>
</ul>
Now it is nearly 11 and I'm off to bed before little ones wake up needing hugs or milk or countless rounds of "you are my sunshine."<br />
<br />
33 is going to be wonderful. Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-17264774576674798742013-04-26T22:46:00.000-04:002013-04-26T22:46:08.249-04:00A Birthday Readathon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Talk about waiting until the last minute! <a href="http://24hourreadathon.com/">Readathon</a> begins in less than 10 hours and I've just decided to sign-up. I've wavered on participating because I cannot devote the entire day to reading. Readathon pretty much makes me feel like a loser. I cannot read/write/cheer/participate at the level of my book nerd idols. Nope, I'll just be reading and skipping out on all the other frivolities.<br />
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Truly I'm using Readathon as an excuse to read. I desperately miss the thrill of uninterrupted reading; much like I miss my blogging and interacting with other bloggers. Since tomorrow is my 33rd birthday, I decided to spend the morning tucked away at the coffeeshop with a book. Happy Birthday to me. Sam will be watching the wee ones in the morning and then I plan on reading some more during naptime. Tomorrow night is reserved for Sam and I to go on a date for a couple of hours; our first date since Persy Jane's birth!<br />
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I want to make this readathon also a blogathon. I'm not planning on throwing a bunch of posts online, but I'd like to spend some time reassessing the purpose and direction of my blog, do some outlining and scheduling and then start building up some backup posts. I hate the disconnect I feel from other bloggers. I truly miss the community of readers, makers, bakers, parents, and awesome people I've "met" through this blog.<br />
<br />
Okay, here are some goals for tomorrow--<br />
<br />
<b>Reading:</b><br />
Finish <i>Vanity Fair</i><br />
Finish <i>Rough Magic: A Biography of Sylvia Plath</i><br />
Listen to an audio book<br />
Visit the public library<br />
<br />
<b>Blogging:</b><br />
Decide on whether to move back to WordPress (blogger and the blogger app is increasingly glitchy.)<br />
Outline the month of May (generally)<br />
Work out a plan to increase my commenting on other blogs<br />
Find someone willing to help me possibly move my blog and make it pretty in exchange for bags of coffee.<br />
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Reading is first priority, but when I start to doze I'll switch gears and tackle some blogging issues.<br />
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I'm so ready to be back in the thick of it!<br />
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Happy Reading, Friends! <br />
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<i> </i> <br />
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Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-22185015076704931022013-04-21T17:46:00.000-04:002013-04-21T17:46:22.386-04:00Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When Jonathan Safran Foer -- author of <i>Everything is Illuminated </i>-- learned he was going to be a father, he did what most new or soon to be parents do: a deep and probing critique of oneself and the world. You go through the "oh my god I'm so flawed and I'm going to screw up my kids" and "holy geez the world is a terrible place and how in the hell am I going to protect/teach/guide my kids?" Then there is the alternating happiness and fear that just makes ya crazy. Eating animals became a focal point of Foer's transition from author to author/Dad. Foer spent most of his life as an omnivore, but with the trendy patches of earnest, uneducated vegetarianism found in high school and college. With the birth of his child looming, Foer began to explore the ethics, practices, traditions, and consequences of eating animals.<br />
<br />
<i>Eating Animals </i>grew from this research<b>. </b>This book is not propaganda, it is not sensational, and it is not inflammatory, anti-human or hateful. <i>Eating Animals </i>is a carefully researched piece of journalism that discusses how eating animals -- in our modern world -- is detrimental to our health, devastating to our environment, and hurtful to the health and happiness of humans. While Foer chooses a vegetarian lifestyle, he still advocates for a return to small farming and simple living. In other words, <i>Eating Animals </i>is mostly a call to end factory farming. What I learned in this book has horrified me, brought me to tears, and transformed my lifestyle.<br />
<br />
Foer uses scientific research, interviews, and investigations to expose the dangers of factory farming animals. He breaks down the vocabulary used to disguise cruelty to animals, he describes the living and dying conditions of these animals, and illuminates the logical fallacies and lies that keep the world consuming meat. I'd like to share just a few of the things that continue to be on my mind regarding the human consumption of meat:<br />
<ul>
<li>Foer discusses how huge slaughterhouses end up killing so many animals that the workers get completely desensitized to death and begin to view the animals as not living things, but as consumables. Soon workers become indifferent to the animals; for example, many animals end up dying mid-way through the processing. It is common for cows to be dismembered, skinned, and still be alive. Birds are kicked like footballs. Baby chicks are stomped on. Pigs -- an especially intelligent animal (smarter than dogs) -- are particularly prone to almost sexual humiliation: bolt guns and rods inserted into the anus and vagina, snouts sliced off, piglets pulled forcefully from the vagina, etc... </li>
<li>Reading about animals being reduced to a commodity... something to be consumed by the masses... began to start weirdly aligning with my thoughts on rape culture. Chickens suffer and are crippled by genetically overgrown breasts. After all the consumer requires large breasts for consuming... the ideal chicken breast is large and luscious and readily available. Do you see where I am going with this? </li>
<li>Factory farming is devastating to humans; there is a high rate of infection and injury in slaughterhouses, workers aren't paid very well, and the industry preys upon immigrants and the poor to provide cheap labor too scared to complain.</li>
<li>Factory farming has a far reaching environmental impact. There is a lot of shit involved in factory farming and by shit... I mean shit. Chickens stewing in "fecal soup" after processing that plumps the bird and brings us lovely diseases like e. coli. Thousands and thousand of pounds of pig shit in "lagoons" that are then sprayed out over land. Cows standing in huge feed lots covered in cow shit. All the infections and diseases associated with meat have their root in animal shit. We've just been distanced, distracted, and deliberately lied to by the agribusiness industry. When we buy our lovely packaged meat at the store we certainly aren't thinking about animal shit.</li>
<li>The growing of grain, the genetic modification of corn, the millions of pounds of feed, the millions of gallons of gas, the millions of gallons of water it takes to feed mass amounts of animals has contributed to a devastating amount of environmental emissions. Eating animals is more environmentally detrimental than all the transportation emissions of the world COMBINED. While we're patting ourselves on the back for taking public transportation or driving a hybrid that Big Mac is most certainly negating every well-meaning transportation decision you've ever made.</li>
</ul>
I feel like I'm not doing this book justice. <i>Eating Animals </i>is more than a plea for a vegetarian lifestyle and an end to factory farming. Foer delves into tradition and capitalism and marketing and religion and probes humanity. This is a plea for being humane. Being kind to animals is being kind to ourselves and our world. It is so much more than saving a cow. It is saving our air, our land,our health, our wallet, and our freedom from corporate domination.<br />
<br />
My husband accuses me of turning into a lame hippie. For all my punkers, DIYers, radical feminists, etc.... the single greatest fuck-you you can give to corporate America, the patriarchy, the establishment, etc... is to eliminate the suffering of animals. Reading <i>Eating Animals </i>is a measured, well-researched, intriguing exploration of meat consumption in America. <br />
<br />
<br />Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-20832396605163784442013-04-15T12:57:00.001-04:002013-04-15T12:58:43.349-04:00Simplicity is Delicious<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In just a few weeks I will return to full-time employment and then the balancing act will truly begin. I have some major work projects coming up this summer that will keep me busy. Add to that a 13 year old active in band and wanting to do "cool" stuff this summer, a toddler with boundless energy and an infant and I think I will have plenty to fill up my summer. Oh yes, just imagine all the laundry and housework 3 kids "bless" you with on a daily basis. Sam is a huge help, but he is starting college in May and will be working full time.<br />
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This introvert mama is slightly stressing. My family fills my life with joy and my works engages my mind and challenges me, but there is that other part of myself that desperately needs to be fulfilled: the me part. I need time to read. Time to think. Time to knit. Time for a quiet walk alone. Time to interact with my husband or small groups of friends. When I neglect the "me" part of me I turn into a stressed out ball of unpleasantness. I'm a better mother/wife/friend/employee when my whole self happy and healthy.<br />
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Healthy. That is a big part of my satisfaction in life. Any mama will tell you that post-baby is a difficult time for the body. Less sleep, hormonal changes, weight gain... or if there isn't weight gain clothing still fits differently for awhile. I'm wanting to get back to losing weight (especially since I am caring around an extra 30 pounds right now), but my approach is drastically different. <br />
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Losing weight last year was hard. I weighed everything... calculated calories...exercised... quit baking... I was consumed with losing weight. I lost weight in a healthy manner, but I was overly focused on calories. Since investigating factory farming, genetically modified foods, and agribusiness in general I find that my health goals have drastically changed. I want health and not thin.<br />
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While I would love to fit into my clothes or -- better yet -- have my clothes become far too big to wear, I'm more interested in being kind to my body and the world. My diet has switched to vegetarian for the past 60 days and I can honestly say that it isn't as difficult as I thought it would be. Hope is also vegetarian now and so I'm doing my best to make sure we do this vegetarian thing the right way. In high school I was vegetarian and that meant living on mountain dew, mac'n'cheese, and canned green beans. Not cool. Hope and I have discussed ensuring we get plenty of protein and as a result Hope has discovered that she likes cheese "fancier" than Colby-Jack, a penchant for edamame, almonds, pistachios, blackbeans, and quinoa. We're only doing soy products once a week and I try to get the non-GMO tofu only. Sam and Atticus still eat meat at work and school, but we have purchased no meat products in the past 60 days and my grocery bill is slimming down. We've switched from 2% milk to whole milk from a local dairy and we are trying to get as much food as possible organic and/or local. This is really difficult because of cost of organic foods, but between the local CSA and the approach of farmer's market season I think we'll do okay.<br />
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I'm sure you can tell by the rambling nature of this post that I've a lot on my mind and I'm juggling too many things: work, marriage, kids, housework, time for myself, health, and trying to live more kindly. Do you know how I am fulfilling all of these goals in some capacity at once?<br />
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Dinner. I'm cooking one or two "real meals" a week (aka casseroles and such) the rest of the time it is a simple pasta or rice dish with loads of vegetables. My favorite meal is the one above: cheese, crusty bread, boiled eggs, local honey or homemade jam, and then veggies. Not pictured are the strawberries for dessert. Follow up with a delicious cup of coffee and I'm happy. It takes next to no time to assemble, the kids have fun trying different things, there are hardly any dirty dishes, it is healthy and balanced and I have time for some knitting while I drink my coffee and the baby is happy. No hour spent in the kitchen cooking and then cleaning.<br />
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Simplicity is so delicious. I expect more spring/summer meals like the one above and I look forward to it.<br />
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<br />Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-18389233391971596582013-04-12T13:20:00.002-04:002013-04-12T13:20:58.166-04:00{this moment}I love this weekly reflection of the week from <a href="http://www.soulemama.com/soulemama/2013/04/this-moment-1.html">SouleMama:</a><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<i>{this moment}</i> - A Friday ritual.
A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple,
special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and
remember."</blockquote>
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<br />Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-11215369186268012182013-04-08T22:23:00.002-04:002013-04-08T22:23:27.791-04:00Currently: April 8, 2013I had a pretty rotten weekend filled with a sick baby, a rambunctious tot, a teen out of town, an exhausted husband, and a wicked sinus infection for me.<br />
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I've seen this meme around the interwebs, but haven't participated until now. Today I read it over at <a href="http://www.capriciousreader.com/?p=9781">Capricious Reader</a> and thought the perfect blog idea for an exhausted mom outta ideas:<br />
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<b>Time: </b>10:13 pm, Monday<br />
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<b>Place:</b> At the dining room table<br />
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<b>Eating: </b> Just ate some leftover macaroni and cheese and come left over vegetables. This nursing two kids makes me so hungry in the evening. <br />
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<b>Drinking:</b> Water, but I wish I were drinking a perfect cafe au lait from some very dark French pressed coffee. With a wee bit of nutmeg on top. <br />
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<b>Reading:</b> <i>Vanity Fair</i>. I am enjoying the book, but it isn't a good pick for midnight nursings. My brain cannot focus so I read celebrity gossip on my smart phone.<br />
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<b>Watching:</b> Nearly done rewatching <i>North and South</i>. I'm also still watching a few episodes of <i>X Files</i> with Sam each week.<br />
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<b>Listening:</b> I'm listening to the dryer bang around and the TV in the other room. Sam is watching <i>Justice League Unlimited </i>cartoons and each episode has terrible 80s guitar music.<br />
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<b>Pondering:</b> Coffee, book shelves, sick babies<br />
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<b>Blogging:</b> I must get back in the swing of blogging and commenting. Alas, I'm very lonely right now and I miss the vibrancy of the blogging community.<br />
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<b>Hating: </b>Doctors not listening to me and discounting natural healing in favor of harsh medications.<br />
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<b>Anticipating:</b> Sleep!<br />
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<b>Worrying:</b> Again sick baby. Again money. Again "what will I do with my life?"<br />
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<br />Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-52556723572833132152013-04-04T08:07:00.001-04:002013-04-04T13:40:41.056-04:00Motherhood Isn't for Cowards<p>Or I guess we could call this night scenes.  </p>
<p>10:20pm fall asleep in the living room while husband holds the cranky baby.</p>
<p>11:00pm get up and go to bed</p>
<p>1:30am change baby's diaper, wipe her nose (why is there dried blood on her nose?!), nurse.</p>
<p>2:15am baby coughs and then regurgitates a gallon of breastmilk.</p>
<p>2:16am strip naked in the livingroom and pile up the wet things including blanket, boppy, baby clothes, etc...</p>
<p>2:17am change baby's diaper and lament presence of mucous. Still naked.</p>
<p>2:20am scrub puked milk out of livingroom chair.  Still naked.</p>
<p>2:25am wipe down self and put on pjs.</p>
<p>2:30am eat a handful of almonds and a banana. Nurse baby... again</p>
<p>2:50 put baby in bed.</p>
<p>2:52am cat starts running in the house and wailing.</p>
<p>2:55am put cat in the basement</p>
<p>2:57am go back to bed.</p>
<p>5:00am wake to tot running through the house yelling, "I awake!"</p>
<p>5:10am change tot's diaper, read "bubbles, bubbles, everywhere" and make Coleridge references lost on the toddler.</p>
<p>5:20am sing "you are my sunshine" a half dozen times.</p>
<p>5:30am tot back asleep. Crawl into bed.</p>
<p>5:40am baby wakes up. </p>
<p>I'd like for people to think that because I believe in attachment parenting that I was cool with this sleepless night. Maybe picture me waking sleepy, bemused, and with a smile. Nope. I was loving, but I did utter the biggest string of profanities into my pillow. I love my babies, but a sure miss sleep.<br><br><br></p>
Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-677219467417932002013-04-01T22:27:00.000-04:002013-04-01T22:27:58.596-04:00Welcome, April!April will be a wonderful month; I can feel that good things are in store. This month has always felt like a time for new beginnings. I don't know if this is because it is my birthday month or if it is due to Georgia weather starting to act like Springtime proper, but April is off to a great start.<br />
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Hope is on spring break and so Persy and I had company. We ran some errands, watched a little TV, went out to the coffee shop and Hope held Persy so I could thoroughly sweep and vacuum nearly every floor. Ah, Spring!<br />
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This will also be my last month on maternity leave. I have to admit that I am looking forward to going back to work. Persy is a lovely baby, but I don't do well functioning in temporary arrangements. I've always loved my schedules and lists and orderly ways and this temporary SAHM is beginning to drive me crazy. Basically, if I knew I would be a permanent SAHM I'd be planning a garden, buying a yogurt maker, finding mommy groups and otherwise organizing my SAHM work day. But I know this is just temporary and I'll be back at work soon and therefore my brain jumps to work and preparing Persy for daycare. I'm not at all worried about Persy going to daycare; our university's daycare is exceptional and Atticus has adored attending. Miss Laura will be Persy's "teacher" and she cared for Atticus and spoiled him rotten. I know that Persy will be loved on all day. In addition, many parents pull their kids out for the summer. During Atticus's first summer in daycare there were two teachers and four babies; that's an awesome teacher to baby ratio! <br />
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I am planning on making the most of April; here are some goals, plans and other aspirations for the month:<br />
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-- I've been vegetarian for a month now and I don't see me ever going back to being a meat eater at this point in time. Hope is also vegetarian and Sam and Atticus are eating vegetarian at home. Atticus doesn't really care for meat that much and so I don't even think he is getting that much at school. I'm looking forward to exploring more recipes and to the <a href="http://athensfarmersmarket.net/">Athens Farmers' Market</a> opening! Our farmer's market doesn't open until late May so we are going to make the 45 minute drive at least twice this month. If funds allow we will also grab a bite to eat at my favorite restaurant, <a href="http://www.thegrit.com/">The Grit</a>!<br />
-- I have two bookish events on the horizon; <a href="http://www.worldbooknight.org/">World Book Night</a> and the <a href="http://www.24hourreadathon.com/">24-hour Readathon</a>. My reading has been lax of late, but I'm hoping it will pick up. Maybe I can finish something this month?<br />
--I swear I will finish Persy's baby blanket this month.<br />
--Blogging! I plan on making a fierce comeback to blogging.<br />
--Unplugging? I do plan on increasing my blogging, but I am seriously considering ditching my smart phone for a plain old phone for just calls and texting. I waste time on Facebook and other sites when I could be READING. Do I really need to pay what I'm paying to update Twitter, like images on Instagram, and scroll mindlessly through Pinterest? Hummm.... we'll see... the jury is still out on this idea.<br />
--Weight loss. I gained so much weight this last pregnancy. I don't know how; pregnant and nursing four times a day and I still gained 58 pounds. I gained back all the weight I lost last year plus some. I spent February and March healing from surgery and establishing my milk supply and now April is going to kick some of this fat ass to the curb. I've lost 38 pounds since Persy was born, but I am still 5.8 pounds over my <i><b>pre</b></i> weight loss weight from last year. GRRRRRRRRR........<br />
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I hope everyone else has bright and happy plans for April and (fingers crossed) I expect you'll be seeing more of me around the blogosphere. Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-25429965143475121132013-03-30T15:09:00.001-04:002013-03-30T15:09:19.809-04:00Mom on the LoseRight now I'm sitting in the coffee shop with an decaf iced latte made with almond milk, some books, and a pile of knitting. I'm flighty, distracted, and trying to soak up this wee bit of introvert time before I go back home to cook dinner, nurse babies, tidy the house, bathe children, etc... This is my first time being away from Persy Jane since her birth. Well, if you count last week when I was feverish with strep fever and sitting in the doctor's office and a half-hour trip to the Dollar General last weekend then I suppose I have been baby-free a few times before today.<br />
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Today is different. It feels selfish, but I know it isn't. Of course the real reason I'm out and about today is that I go back to work in four weeks and Persy will be in daycare. Sam is going to give her a bottle of mommy milk today to make sure she takes it and he'll comfort her if she cries. This is to help her and help me get used to being apart before we spend several hours at a stretch apart on a daily basis. Feelings of selfishness happen because I've sorely wished for just a wee bit of free time. I hold, wear, and nurse Persy constantly and if I'm not caring for Persy then I'm either holding, playing, or nursing Atticus or cooking dinner or doing laundry or engaged in some other domestic task. I'm enjoying have both arms free and both boobs in my bra. I don't have any boogers smeared down my arm. Spit up isn't drying on my back. Reckless and free and enjoying spring. I just don't know how to act if I'm not being a mom.<br />
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Being a mother has truly altered my perception of time. Everything feels slow and quick all at once; the days are long, but time is speeding past. I was trying to explain to Sam the other day that sometimes it can be annoying to never be alone with my husband, or to have a raging tot banging on the bathroom door every time I shower, or to spend an entire evening nursing with no end. But one day the kids won't need me as much and then I will have all the time in the world. And having such a full life means that I appreciate the quiet alone time more than usual. When Sam and I were dating I don't think we treasured an evening on the couch watching movies as much as we do now. I didn't cherish quiet time with my books. There was plenty of time stretching out before us and so what did it matter if I did something now or at 3am or next week? Now I find myself aware of all my time: most of it goes to the kids, but I seek, anticipate, and thrive on those minutes or hours I can find to spend with my husband or by myself.<br />
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I suppose what I'm saying in my rambling and disconnected way is that having children has enriched my life in ways I never anticipated. Everything feels more ... NOW... more alive ... more important. Thanks, kids!<br />
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Now to tackle some knitting.<br />
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<br />Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-75712986193106724662013-03-23T16:37:00.001-04:002013-03-23T16:37:08.987-04:00What a Week<p>Yesterday was a terrible day and the end of a stressful week. Monday was lovely. Tuesday I realized I had a yeast infection (this is a TMI blog). Wednesday the dryer broke. Thursday my throat hurt and by that evening I was shaking, chilled, and feverish. Friday afternoon I went to the doctor and was diagnosed with strep, tonsillitis, and dehydration. Oh and the dryer was repaired Friday afternoon to the tune of about $340 and wiping out any extra money we had in the bank.</p>
<p>After a fair amount of Gatorade, some sleep, and medication I feel a bit better. </p>
<p>Next week I plan on some major healthy eating. I feel bleh and once I can swallow properly I am really going to get on this healthy eating kick again. I think eating properly will help me in other ways as well. I have gained back all of the weight I lost last spring plus ten pounds. I feel dumpy and disgusting.</p>
<p>Eating healthy and exercising will help with how I feel physically and emotionally. Cross your fingers that next week will rock.<br></p>
Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-43482484889417877672013-03-17T22:37:00.000-04:002013-03-17T22:37:53.445-04:00Spring ChangesThe first day of Spring doesn't happen until later this week, but I truly feel like all the freshness and joy of Spring has arrived. The weather is bright, sunny, mild, and glorious. And with Spring comes a bursting forth of change.<br />
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There has been some changes of late in our lives. Sam is no longer working at the tattoo shop. I am filled with righteous wife anger over how I think Sam was unjustly and ridiculously let go. It will be a loss of some income for us. As is the nature of tattooing... some weeks me made no money and other weeks he made the money that covers clothing, Christmas gifts, field trips, and school necessities... in other words the money that we used for the kids. He was only part time at the shop, but he loved it. Folks were displeased he took off two weeks when Persephone was born. After that he went to appointment only and then he offered to come in on Sundays to help out.<br />
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Last Sunday he went to work. He was going to walk to the shop (which according to Google maps is 2.5 miles away from our home). Then he decided to take the van and then bring it back to me at 2:30 so I could go visit my parents' home. His coworkers all said they were cool with it... he gave a discount on his cut of a tattoo to a client that was cool with him leaving. He was gone for ten minutes. I was driving him back -- at about the 7 minute mark -- when he got a text message saying he was fired. A TEXT MESSAGE. We stopped to pick up his check and supplies and then we all went to visit my parents and I was so angry... so angry. I was angry that he was fired so unprofessionally and needlessly. If we had thought there was a problem I would have gone to my parents earlier or later. Folks leave all the time to buy cigarettes or smoke the cigarettes or stand around in the parking lot or pick up food. We never expected this. I think I am mostly angry because I feel responsible. I suggested he leave and bring the van back. I had the c-section that required him to take off. Five years ago he was on his way to living his dream as a tattoo artist and now he is married with 3 kids and a janitor. I feel like I've stifled him.<br />
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We're trying to be positive right now. Sam starts college in May and it was going to be tough balancing tattooing, studying, work, and family. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. I think as long as we work out an artistic outlet for him he will be happy. <br />
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So besides this work change and the fact that Atticus can be a bit overwhelming at times (toddlers are so...dramatic) things are good.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
* Hope and I are vegetarian now. Of course I --like a ninny - decided to take up watching agribusiness documentaries. I will say I feel much more energetic and I'm eating more fruits and veggies. I'm focusing more on beans as a source of protein with minimum soy products and I'm enjoying cooking new dishes from <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/610743.The_Vegetarian_Family_Cookbook">this cookbook</a>. </div>
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*Atticus is my kitchen helper. He enjoys making toast. He helps me to load the dishwasher. On the weekends we bake and today it was vegan chocolate cupcakes. Persy started fussing as we were putting batter into the pans. Hope was holding her, but Atticus kept saying, "Persy freaking out?"</div>
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*Speaking of which Atticus has quite the imagination. Everything is a monster truck, boat, or spaceship. He pretends to plop a pretend helmet and pretend gloves on Persy so he can drive her in the monster truck. The monster truck happens to look a whole lot like a pile of couch cushions stacked high.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
* I've finally gotten the hang of baby-wearing. Persy loves the Moby wrap and I have a beautiful Maya wrap a friend made for us. Right now Persy prefers the Moby because she likes to be snug and upright, but I think the Maya will get more use in the long run. </div>
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*Hope proves to be essential to my survival. She is funny and witty and silly and immensely helpful with her brother and fetching diapers/burp cloths/etc.... </div>
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*This past weekend Hope and Sam worked on her science project about the ocean. I managed to covertly snap a picture of Hope looking through her seashell collection for the project. Middle school girls apparently elude candid family shots quite well.</div>
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*We've been out and about walking in the evening with kids. Persy usually naps in the stroller and Atticus is amused looking around and then I get a chance to actually talk to my husband.</div>
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*Oh, yes, my husband. I sure do love him and I miss him. We're so busy with kids that we rarely get time alone. Last night we had a "date" involving Ben and Jerry's ice cream and a DVD rental. Persy was a well-behaved third wheel.</div>
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*I'm still reading, but don't expect book posts until April, but there are good things on the horizon.</div>
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Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-59098063772970924522013-03-09T14:47:00.001-05:002013-03-09T14:47:47.032-05:00Routine<p>I'm blogging from my phone with a snoozing baby beside me and a sleepy toddler napping in his room and Sam watching TV on the couch.  Hope is visiting her grandparents.  We spent the morning eating eggs and toast and sipping coffee.  Then tidying up. Mid-morning found Sam and Atticus outside with dump trucks and shovels while I nursed Persy on the couch and read Vanity Fair.  Then grocery shopping and now our quiet afternoon.  Later we have plans to walk to the coffee shop and then tonight perhaps some knitting and television.</p>
<p>I really love my life.</p>
<p>I've been on maternity leave now for nearly 5 weeks and I think I finally have some routine in my weekdays at home.  I don't believe in scheduling/training babies, but I am fond of establishing routines.  In the morning there's breakfast, coffee and usually watching a movie on the couch.  Some chores and then lunch and naps and tummy time for Persy.  Hope arrives home from school and holds Persy while I start dinner and then the fellas come home.  Atticus arriving home is a wee bit stressful as he is still jealous of the baby.  Allowing him to help me with making dinner, loading dishes, setting the table and changing Persy helps; it is time with mom and he likes doing big boy things.</p>
<p>After dinner we start story time, bath time, and I marathon nurse two kids.  Once the kids are in bed, I shower and then I hangout with Sam and Persy on the couch.  </p>
<p>Then it is bedtime.  A feeding and a change for Persy and then Sam puts her to bed.  She's been sleeping for 3-4 hours at a stretch which is lovely.  </p>
<p>I do miss blogging and I have been reading every post in my Google Reader, but commenting has been tricky.  One day I will get back to commenting.  Right now I am pretty content to just soak up life.</p>
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February has been quite the month. Persephone was due on 02/16, but as expected she made her entrance into the world early;12 days early. <br />
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On Monday -- February 4th -- I was on my first day of maternity leave. I spent that morning reading up on the confirmation of Richard III's discovered grave. I took a short nap. Then I sat. The kids were at school and Sam was at work and I just sat at the house staring at the wall. I told Sam on his lunch break that I felt like my brain was liquid and I just wanted to sit.<br />
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At 2:30 I decided to rouse myself and do something. I busied myself with tidying the house, bent over to pick something up and whoosh...... my water broke at 2:40. I had a midwife appointment at 3:30 so I waited and had Sam drive me to the office. I never had one iota of a contraction. My midwife sent me to the hospital for a c-section.<br />
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Persephone Jane Roper was born that night at 9:11pm and weighed 9lbs, 12 ounces. Sam and I treated this birth very differently from Atticus's birth: we did less social media and texting and calling and visiting with friends and relatives. During our stay at the hospital my mom, Sam's mom, the kids, and my friend Shannon were the only visitors. It was quiet and peaceful. I focused less on snapping pictures and more on staring at her beautiful, squishy face. <br />
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Persy Jane will be my last baby, I had my tubes tied during the c-section, and I really wanted to just sink up all the baby newness. <br />
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So what has February been like for the Roper family? Stressful at times due to a very jealous toddler Atticus. But on the whole it has been marvelous. I hold Persy every chance I can (which is a lot). I've colored and baked with Atticus quite a bit. Now that he is a big boy he really takes pride in helping in the kitchen. Hope turned 13 and is smitten with her baby sister. Sam and I have watched gobs of <i>X-Files </i>and movies together. My friend <a href="http://www.thecakewife.wordpress.com/">Catherine</a> -- who is responsible for these beautiful pictures-- has come for a visit several times; I love it when she visits (and not just for the excellent scones). We talk about everything and her enthusiasm and wit brighten my days. I've done very little reading and knitting and baking... I've just been taking things slowly and basking in life.<br />
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I hope to be checking in once or twice a week now. I feel like life is getting back to a rhythm and so far Persy has been a very easy going, cuddly baby so I anticipate blogging will enter my life again.<br />
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I hope everyone has been well while I've been away. I've read every post in my Google Reader in February and didn't comment on a single one. Eh? I'll do better.<br />
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Okay... time for baby cuddles.<br />
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Happy March! Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-16965487226007636252013-02-02T17:27:00.004-05:002013-02-02T23:35:35.629-05:00Goodbye, January and Hello, Maternity LeaveJanuary was a good month for the most part. I did have the occasional pregnant lady meltdown, but looking back through the month it was spent with loads of quiet family time and time alone; which is something I sorely needed.<br />
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Although I keep trying to acclimate myself to the wonders of Google Calendar and other techno-savvy calendars, I always use and yearn for a good paper planner. Kinda like I have this blog, but I still have beautiful notebooks and lovely pens I use for journaling. I picked up this calendar in late December and I love it. I use the month view for writing in appointments and such and then on the individual week pages I briefly write down events from the day. This is a great way to document favorite recipes, a milestone for the kids, and daily reading when I'm too harried to do full blown journaling / blogging.<br />
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I spent this afternoon glancing back through January and here's a sampling of the good stuff.<br />
<ul>
<li>I read three books: <i>Cheerful Weather for the Wedding </i>by Julia Strachey, <i>The Wars of the Roses </i>by Alison Weir, and <i>The Law and the Lady </i>by Wilkie Collins</li>
<li>I started writing in a new journal and I'm writing at least several times a week</li>
<li>I hung out with old friends and knitty friends and my mom</li>
<li>The thrifted gods were kind and I found great stuff</li>
<li>The nursery is as done as it will ever be and I've received so many kind notes and gifts for Persy</li>
<li> I baked Rosemary Olive Oil bread, dairy-free Banana Nut Muffins, an ugly Coffee Cream Cake, and Oatmeal Creme Pies</li>
<li>I saw <i>Les Miserables </i>and cried buckets</li>
<li>Sam and I celebrated our three year wedding anniversary. We had a wonderful date complete with introverting together, Thai food, and plenty of coffee</li>
<li>Sam's ugly but very warm scarf is completed and I began a blanket for Persy</li>
<li>I had the most amazing reflexology foot rub and it is now my splurge of choice</li>
<li>Work is now OVER UNTIL MAY</li>
<li>Hope has rocked her last full month as a 12-year old. Her room is reasonably clean and her math grades are way up (she has one of the highest scores in her class!). She has been a major help with Atticus and helping me around the house when my feet are puffy and I'm cranky. </li>
<li>Atticus is as spirited as ever. He is cuddly, charming, and a handful all at once. He's is currently obsessed with "worker men" and garbage pickup, Pooh bear, poopy, Legos and waiting on Persy. He's about mastered putting on his shoes by himself, he is "helping" around the house a bit, and his "thinking face" and dinosaur impressions send us into giggles.</li>
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Yup.... January's been a good month.<br />
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On to February:<br />
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February is normally my least favorite month; we always seem sick and cash poor. In fact, last night I was at the ER with Sam to check for pneumonia. Thank goodness it is just bronchitis. I'm slightly freaked out because Persephone will be here soon and I need Sam well! <br />
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February has its stresses, but it will surely be a beautiful monthl. My second February baby will here soon and I cannot wait to spend the month getting to know her and introducing her to our little family. After a lot of thought I've decided to go on a bit of a blogging break for February. I'll still be on <a href="https://twitter.com/nerdybookgirl">Twitter</a> and <a href="http://web.stagram.com/n/nerdybookgirl">Instagram</a>. I'll be faithfully reading my Google Reader but commenting may be sparse. <br />
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I'll see you all in March with baby pictures, book updates, and more. <br />
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My mom did an embroidered piece like this when I was a kid:<br />
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Ain't that the truth; I guess blogging and commenting can wait until tomorrow; because babies don't keep!Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-45653166029216068332013-01-29T09:53:00.000-05:002013-01-29T09:53:50.513-05:00On Waiting and Letting my Monkey Do it<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Let’s say you want some advice that
might help you give birth, wherever that might be. My shortest answer
is: let your monkey do it.” So says the world’s most famous midwife, Ina
May Gaskin. These words of wisdom which remind women that birth
requires that we get our thinking brains out of the way and let our
mammalian instincts take over..." (from an interview with <a href="http://thehappywomb.com/let-your-monkey-do-it-an-interview-with-ina-may-gaskin/">Ina May Gaskin</a>) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1j6RZYjPkyAeCvvSQ9PFlFyjuIiJys9I76XyRsHA6htAGeTo76g2oCih2DXqvgrd2O-pmxINUWHYo4jYllGKLYodGMF_WuXJtWwcVuzJADKnZSrSRWdjto1OlOeXV_KDoedAX1oCi-xz_/s400/1358694903913.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Owls and books, of course</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tveFXbUNS4ZaSPrKFKdR7p7GulJieFkTxXp6scBgBOTC9BHBhAlzQigcuzWpucKgdQOMTD6kSIeONbQgQ5OKEdU7TRkaFDe8kfmR6o30qknUktaKg3zNRKomIvZrQpNMqOFRcE0FEu6g/s1600/1358694856102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tveFXbUNS4ZaSPrKFKdR7p7GulJieFkTxXp6scBgBOTC9BHBhAlzQigcuzWpucKgdQOMTD6kSIeONbQgQ5OKEdU7TRkaFDe8kfmR6o30qknUktaKg3zNRKomIvZrQpNMqOFRcE0FEu6g/s400/1358694856102.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">packing bags</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUd1q2aigt5Yuf2r0OlVtAnumBBrQzC5cblzJLBbLXRLxZ40R-BG32ASfFDba6mxn-QFsNej2uGzTYy6EBhgqa70__gGwvd2WqZo_VYAq5m4qthKUIuLb7_nfhF25w207CwE_j9DuxEK4y/s1600/1358694868723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUd1q2aigt5Yuf2r0OlVtAnumBBrQzC5cblzJLBbLXRLxZ40R-BG32ASfFDba6mxn-QFsNej2uGzTYy6EBhgqa70__gGwvd2WqZo_VYAq5m4qthKUIuLb7_nfhF25w207CwE_j9DuxEK4y/s400/1358694868723.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">all the wee things!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVj3eokQjK92VzMAn-VXHtDtH6vRn85x_PlzvjEPNNUQkgZ4jH8F-BGyT8gof0AKdhwiyXQISai8ThYcLpfjGwao-bDh5MfmRg0dCAEW1a8j9MX1ssniXtlQbIoIYJMiveBLt_8ETSq6_2/s1600/1358720523592.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVj3eokQjK92VzMAn-VXHtDtH6vRn85x_PlzvjEPNNUQkgZ4jH8F-BGyT8gof0AKdhwiyXQISai8ThYcLpfjGwao-bDh5MfmRg0dCAEW1a8j9MX1ssniXtlQbIoIYJMiveBLt_8ETSq6_2/s400/1358720523592.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Atticus is quickly moving from a mama's boy to being obsessed with doing everything Daddy does. (but he'll always be my boy)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLhqLe3Zdt1ByI89o-0WBMsxz9-xrZHEoi0eIqqUJOvsVrvWedkPzIlM-fMN6vZNT5PEvdfg8NB-yw7lhgziFowB7cetf1Tw5NrryR2i0BRoRQ-dgT41UEvz2uOHHq8F85fQ1C0qa0Ao7S/s1600/1359151942968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLhqLe3Zdt1ByI89o-0WBMsxz9-xrZHEoi0eIqqUJOvsVrvWedkPzIlM-fMN6vZNT5PEvdfg8NB-yw7lhgziFowB7cetf1Tw5NrryR2i0BRoRQ-dgT41UEvz2uOHHq8F85fQ1C0qa0Ao7S/s400/1359151942968.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Homemade <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2012/04/oatmeal-whoopie-pies/">oatmeal cream pies</a></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiwzC5hOPmrH3DwC55xEq7s6iq0s7abXj2sDgNZ0GGNdle9qQR20fkWh6tIXyUJQEzNL6kQKzVvC8ZU4dqbxFOHloGvOciw5gWtyaNHyjhV0FDFRdhPx4JTkGVbsiCtoXq76TP01wZzB2K/s1600/1359151830008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiwzC5hOPmrH3DwC55xEq7s6iq0s7abXj2sDgNZ0GGNdle9qQR20fkWh6tIXyUJQEzNL6kQKzVvC8ZU4dqbxFOHloGvOciw5gWtyaNHyjhV0FDFRdhPx4JTkGVbsiCtoXq76TP01wZzB2K/s400/1359151830008.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The oatmeal pies are a hit and Atticus is proud for helping with the baking</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVbfINqbGjb5fKLziVphirNFCpljcv6hnAHlNauhahEUGWfCI_xgyVJJmjK4E86Qmq5tYD8DeN2PBXSB7Py1GUP7rvIjO2DtsfuNamYHijP-BwZYbvPytFRrBln1xj5Nx8HbG3JjlKthT/s1600/1359157486550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVbfINqbGjb5fKLziVphirNFCpljcv6hnAHlNauhahEUGWfCI_xgyVJJmjK4E86Qmq5tYD8DeN2PBXSB7Py1GUP7rvIjO2DtsfuNamYHijP-BwZYbvPytFRrBln1xj5Nx8HbG3JjlKthT/s400/1359157486550.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a cardboard box is the best bad weather day saver</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgougfXoqyJnjy3RdjjSqCerDAMXii4kuyO0z-iRngEEZZfQ8EL1jvzrtOMckqvhIzZjkMcu1h-5eutY6gpMtMPFqbW6iBvE6Sw71FSbvVVy6fSrJQXaBHeScOyRuTCemG9YHO7oN_aWbDa/s1600/1359262143584.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgougfXoqyJnjy3RdjjSqCerDAMXii4kuyO0z-iRngEEZZfQ8EL1jvzrtOMckqvhIzZjkMcu1h-5eutY6gpMtMPFqbW6iBvE6Sw71FSbvVVy6fSrJQXaBHeScOyRuTCemG9YHO7oN_aWbDa/s400/1359262143584.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the ugliest thing I've ever knitted for my handsome husband</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Eab0iek12c0ZEvxlRk7k3MDwiR7Vz8fmpRYrSNPQK5XE-YE2ex2NykGtw8mY601C3ZZ1vxYIk5U4nm5fgZmcDA65BuFUbWrJE8AHz7rKMbBREYDo_87Tad0DZTCuzfBpv7cJ1Nnk7aSD/s1600/1359158481783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Eab0iek12c0ZEvxlRk7k3MDwiR7Vz8fmpRYrSNPQK5XE-YE2ex2NykGtw8mY601C3ZZ1vxYIk5U4nm5fgZmcDA65BuFUbWrJE8AHz7rKMbBREYDo_87Tad0DZTCuzfBpv7cJ1Nnk7aSD/s400/1359158481783.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's in a space ship, by the way</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9-7HaX6FSzK3A6W85_ZKEooXRFxiZ7YaecdN2vPI_qJe9m_nhenecf2JZI1k2-4wh0rShWyXFxHQu-u6I4ZQlbJfG5KkU7rch14nJ3OWvJQ5ZWqBte7kNkP2g2ZCld_S1hyphenhyphenkpjP-LlIE/s1600/1359397658391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9-7HaX6FSzK3A6W85_ZKEooXRFxiZ7YaecdN2vPI_qJe9m_nhenecf2JZI1k2-4wh0rShWyXFxHQu-u6I4ZQlbJfG5KkU7rch14nJ3OWvJQ5ZWqBte7kNkP2g2ZCld_S1hyphenhyphenkpjP-LlIE/s400/1359397658391.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">reading a cocoa</td></tr>
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<br />
This week I'm taking a few days of vacation I need to use before maternity leave starts next Monday. I'll be at work on Friday (if Persephone doesn't arrive), but other than that I'm DONE until May.<br />
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There's been a fair amount of leisurely puttering around the house these days. The lazy, haphazard nature of my days is actually prescribed by my midwife. My midwife, Jack, was dealing with a panicked me a few weeks ago. I want a VBAC so badly, but each time I have a baby my water breaks and I never, ever, ever have a contraction. My mom was the same way. I'll have Braxton Hicks contractions, but when its showtime my body -- in my mind -- fails me. Jack asked me a few questions about work and hobbies and my personality. Then he sighed and said that I'm too intellectual and planned. My job involves research and organization. I would name list-making as an actually hobby of mine. I want to know why, figure things out, and do it myself.<br />
<br />
I'm completely in the wrong side of my brain. Jack said if I'm hung up researching and making my body "work" then I'm taking myself out of a creative, emotional, primal sort of place in my <strike>head</strike> erm, body. I have to let go and get back to my primal self to give birth. If I have give birth naturally great. If I have a c-section great. If I accept that my body will do what it will do and go along for the ride then I won't have the disappointment and failure I felt after I had Atticus via c-section.<br />
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I can tell you that there is no schedule or planning to my days. Yesterday was my first day home alone and my inclination was to "get things done" and run a ton of errands. (SQUEALING BRAKES SOUND)<br />
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Instead I was sleepy so I slept. Then I was hungry so I ate. Then I met up with friend for some knitting. Then I read. That night I did bare minimum on the kitchen and hung out with Hope and Atticus. Hope chatted and Atticus played Legos. Atticus and I had some wonderful cuddle time. Sam gave me a foot rub when he got home. I slept. Hey, I'll either be caring for a newborn and tandem nursing in a few days/weeks or I'll be recovering from major surgery, caring for a newborn and tandem nursing. I'll take sleep while I can.<br />
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The house hasn't been cleaned thoroughly in weeks, there is not a single freezer meal in my freezer, and the house is littered with baskets of clean, unfolded clothes. Whatever.<br />
<br />
I may blog and I may not blog. I'm just hanging out, waiting, and very eager to meet this sweet girl. A blog vacation is in order for February, I think; just to soak in new baby love, cuddle my other kids, and slow down for a bit. Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-20766739220923308492013-01-22T15:31:00.002-05:002013-01-22T15:31:56.735-05:00The Wars of the Roses by Alison Weir <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMUOH71XKGHD4-FV7XUhNVWN1jkHgA3WC4s98JbKQ-rAwDeHM1tt81RDzpCv3ToCnD8-sZnhT3fK8XRg97o6pZJuyeYgDdecOro70T99GdLExUT7rexjNgwre8CYVO-jbB2cYKoIJuHpVE/s400/roses.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="257" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="row">
<span itemprop="bookFormatType">Hardcover</span>, <span itemprop="numberOfPages">462 pages</span></div>
Published
July 4th 1995
by Ballantine Books</td></tr>
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As an Anglophile I've
always been fascinated by British history. I can trace this back to my
homeschool days when as an 8 year old I would have have lengthy
conversations with myself over whether I was team Queen Elizabeth or
team Mary Queen of Scots. Also, my first, VERY FIRST, crush at this age
was Sir Francis Drake (after all, the man did defeat the Spanish
Armada). Needless to say my fascination with monarchs, crowns, and
primogeniture legacies has grown over the years. A few years back I was
obsessed with Jane Grey (still am to a degree) and when I was pregnant
with Atticus in 2010 I became obsessed with Richard III and the Wars of
the Roses thanks to Sharon Kay Penman's <i>The Sunne in Splendour</i>.
While I've read several good fictional works in addition to Penman's, I
was looking for a narrative history on what led to the wars and their
impact on British History. I chose Weir's book because I love <i>Mary Queen of Scots and the Murder of Lord Darnley </i>and <i>The LIfe of Elizabeth the I</i>. I don't particularly care for Weir's fiction, but dang that girl some write some narrative history.<br /><br />Okay...
onto the book. I won't go into all the details of the Wars, because
that would require all manner of family trees, maps, and documentation
and I'm not a historian. Instead I'll just talk about the book. <br /><br />Weir
begins with taking the reader all the way back to the original dispute
in the Plantagenet line, the rise of the wealthy and greedy lords with
influence, religious superstition and everything in between that
influenced and exacerbated the feud between the House of York (white
rose) and the House of Lancaster (red rose). The book ends with Edward
IV unchallenged for many years, his death, and the succession of his
12-year-old son, Edward V. This is just before Richard, Duke of
Gloucester, challenges the throne, is killed, and the Tudor Dynasty
emerges.<br /><br />Weir writes her non-fiction like the very best fiction:
the "characters" have depth, the battles are thrilling, and her ability
to successfully juggle all the various Henrys and Edwards and Richards
with little confusion for the reader is a mark of genius. I feel like I
have a good, broad understanding of the conflict and the people
involved and also better insight into how insignificant with war was
compared with others. The Wars of the Roses occurred over a span of 30
or so years with a few deadly and tense periods of battle punctuated by
periods of peace. I don't know why, but I always pictured 30 years of
constant slaying and intrigue. I suppose that is just the old
imagination talking.<br /><br />My one curious comment about this book is
that Weir makes it seem -- and it may be the case -- that everything
went batshit crazy because of two women: Margaret Anjou on the
Lancaster side and Elizabeth Wydville on the York side. I wonder about
the lives of these women and how much their actions were dictated by
their own desire to not conform to the gender despairing convictions of
their historical milieu. I'm adding<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13498116-blood-sisters"> a book about the women of the Wars of the Roses</a> to my TBR pile to give me some more context.<br /><br />I'm hoping that this year I'll be able to read Weir's <i>The Princes in the Tower </i>and then follow-up with <i>Blood Sisters</i>. Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-22300262542449548752013-01-21T21:03:00.001-05:002013-01-21T21:05:54.439-05:00The Close of a Perfect WeekendThis is Atticus's Excited Face:<br />
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It is a bit blurry because the "excited face" involves saying "YAYYYYY!!!!!" while shaking one's head side to side. I neglected to take photos this weekend excepting this one and to be honest this is the absolute best summation of my weekend.</div>
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That excited face.</div>
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This weekend has been wonderful with the perfect mix of time alone, cuddles with the kids, time with Sam, and seeing friends and family. There's even been a fair amount of baby prepping done.</div>
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Here's my excitement from the weekend:</div>
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-- Ice cream and documentary watching on the couch with Sam</div>
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-- Visiting the health food store to stock up on some Red Raspberry Leaf tea</div>
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-- Long afternoon naps</div>
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-- Going out with my good friend Erin for pasta, coffee, and plenty of chatting</div>
-- Having Hope help me with organizing all of Persy's clothes and packing Persy's hospital bag<br />
-- Lunch with my Mama and then seeing <i>Les Miserables </i>(I cried buckets)<br />
-- Reading <i>The Law and the Lady </i>and finishing Alison Weir's <i>The Wars of the Roses</i><br />
-- Cuddling with Atticus on the couch and watching Pooh Bear movies<br />
-- Foot massages from Sam that send me to instant, blissful slumber<br />
-- Finally getting our third wedding anniversary date. it mirrored our usual dates: coffee, Thai food, thrifting, and then our side-by-side introverting (I read and Sam draws).<br />
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Tomorrow it is back to work and I'm going to endeavor to work my tail off to get everything done. I have another ultrasound on Friday and pairing that and my midwife's predictions with the full moon on Sunday I'm thinking that this might actually be my last week at work. I'm feeling much more settled at work now that I know who will be doing the work while I'm out for 12 weeks (up until last Wednesday they hadn't even advertised for my job and I am the entire ILL department -- yikes!). I realize I'd been upset because I was so worried about my work; I have thesis/dissertation students and faculty who heavily rely on medical research that I'm only able to obtain via interlibrary loan. My dedication was causing me to flip my shit. Now that it is settled I can honestly say I'm ready to pack up, have this baby, and stay at home until May!<br />
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Wish me luck with this work week; I pray it is a drama-free time of productivity!<br />
Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-24650515496885003542013-01-19T16:30:00.001-05:002013-01-19T16:30:16.590-05:00Sweet Simple Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Cat cuddles / crock pot cooking / coffee / folding wee baby clothes / rainy day reading / thrifted gifts from friends / silly kids / various thrifted finds</div>
<br />Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-52062269834774134812013-01-17T16:20:00.001-05:002013-01-17T16:20:06.339-05:00Thanks for Being Awesome<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Thank you thank you thank you to all the mamas and non-mamas who left
advice, encouragement and support after my <a href="http://www.figandthistle.blogspot.com/2013/01/welcome-to-my-self-pity-party.html">online pregnant lady meltdown</a>.<br /><br />Almost immediately after I hit publish I felt better. I did take a long, hot shower. I made a cup of cocoa. I read <i>The Law and the Lady</i>. Sam was at work that night, but he sent me a series of the sweetest text messages:<br /><br />"we will be ready and we will have money... and it will be okay..."<br />"I love you... I will do whatever it takes to take care of my family..."<br />I am making sure things are ready... I have a list made..."<br />"but I know it is hard right now... it will get better..."<br /><br />That
night was rough nonetheless. Atticus woke several times screaming and
whining. He didn't want to go to sleep. I could feel myself getting
frustrated and angry. I started to think that I should just leave him
in the bed to scream... I should tell him to cut it out... I should make
him learn that he couldn't push me around." But then I kept thinking
about all the wonderful words of encouragement and support I received
when I was pretty much throwing a tantrum. Was it because I was
manipulative, evil, and bratty. Nope. It was because I was tired,
scared, worried, and overwhelmed. What I needed was comfort. I
resolved myself to comfort Atticus. We sang, we rocked, we talked about
books, I rubbed his back, I gave him hugs and kisses and I went to his
room every time he woke.<br /><br />When we finally decided to give up on
trying for sleep at 5:15am (even cuddling in my big cozy chair wasn't
working) I went to the kitchen to get Atticus a cup of milk. He
immediately asked for a "teefing ring." I handed him one out of the
freezer and he shoved it in his mouth. That morning's tooth brushing
revealed swollen back gums and a tooth pointing through. I felt so good
that I hadn't given in to my urge to let Atticus "cry-it-out." He was
hurting and he needed his parents. <br /><br />And that is why I consider
myself an Attachment Parenting style parent. I believe that the more
our complicated emotions that leave us feeling lonely, scared, hurt, or
overwhelmed are met with kindness, touch, and a listening ear the
better. Let me clarify this; I am an incredibly flawed AP parent. In
fact, I'm embarrassed by how impatient and mouthy I am with Hope. Attachment Parenting a middleschooler is really difficult for me and I
actually feel quite guilty that Hope doesn't get gentle mama as much as
she does exasperated mama. <br clear="all" /><br />Not only did you all help me calm myself, but you assisted in keeping me sane enough to be the parent I strive to be. <br /><br />I
also picked up some delicious soup recipes and a great idea to "reward"
myself at each pregnancy week milestone. All the stories folks shared
helped as well. Each mom (and those of you with other big life
changes/responsibilities) emphasized that everyone goes through periods
like this and IT WILL GET BETTER. <br /><br />Other things that have
greatly calmed me: there is a new plan for my maternity leave
replacement (as of last week they hadn't even advertised), I have my
knitting group tonight, plans to hang out with a friend this weekend, a
weekend movie with my mom, and on Monday a date with Sam. In addition
Atticus and Persy's room is nearly finished, my bags are almost packed,
and so many sweet little baby jammies have been laundered and folded. Add to that the steady rain -- which I love -- and celebrating my
anniversary with Sam and two loveable kids and things are feeling
downright happy.<br /><br />It is amazing to me how a tough 72 hours can make everything seem awful and then "voila" life is back to being good.<br /><br />Thanks to all of you for the help and encouragement and virtual hugs. Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-43132497512221060012013-01-16T20:22:00.003-05:002013-01-16T20:22:41.852-05:00Happy Anniversary, Sam!Today I am celebrating my third wedding anniversary by working opposite shifts from Sam and running errands all morning. But that's okay. Last night I made Sam a delicious and hideous coffee cream cake.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cream filling mysteriously liquified. It tasted delicious and that's what counts, right?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Sam brought me beautiful red tulips at lunch.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good job, Sam!</td></tr>
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On Monday we have a date day planned. It will most likely involve Thai food and since money is scare we may just inhabit a coffee shop or take a nap or go thrifting. As long as I'm spending time with Sam I'm happy.<br />
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Happy Anniversary, Sam! You're my absolute best friend.Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-34764429513647106142013-01-14T21:30:00.000-05:002013-01-14T21:30:10.724-05:00Welcome to my Self-Pity Party!Hi, I'm Amanda, and I have a terrible attitude.<br />
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I have a job, a roof over my head, and a terrific family... but I thought I'd spend the evening on my blog complaining and relishing in some whining.<br />
<br />
I'm a huge bundle of nerves and tears and fatigue. Pull up a chair, lend me your ear (erm... eyeballs), and let me unload to all of you. First -- a disclaimer: I know that this is the third trimester emotional freakout. I know this. It doesn't make it any less depressing, but I hold on to the fact that last pregnancy I called the university counselor sobbing about stupid bitches at work. Yup... those were my exact words.<br />
<br />
First off, I feel like shit. I've gained nearly 15 pounds since December 13th. Persephone -- at 35 weeks -- is measuring 8.6 pounds. I'm eating reasonably healthy, but large portions partly because I'm starving because in addition to growing a baby I'm nursing a 33lb toddler 3-5 times a day. <br />
<br />
A great deal of the weight gain is fluid retention. My ankles are huge, my legs stiff, and my maternity clothes are barely fitting. My midwife thinks I will have the baby in two weeks. TWO WEEKS.<br />
<br />
On one hand that means the physical suffering from swollen legs and an achy back will be gone, but that also means juggling a tot and a newborn. More nursing. Possible incision scars. bleh... yup... I was crossing my fingers for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean), but I don't know if that is possible because Persy is transverse (lying sideways) and huge. There is speculation as to whether she will even be able to turn herself upside down before delivery day. <br />
<br />
I wake up to pee 5 -7 times a night and I have trouble sleeping. I sleep for an hour, wake for 20 minutes, sleep for 30 minutes, wake for an hour.<br />
<br />
I am so bone tired, but not sleepy. Does that make sense?<br />
<br />
Hope is a great kid, but I'm impatient with her. Atticus is being terrible. He is a sweet, smart boy and then he tries to beat the hell out of my stomach, or claws his fingers over my nipple, or rips up his books. <br />
<br />
Sam is the current voice of sanity. He is calm and helpful and I'm a constant ball of weeping.<br />
<br />
Oh, and I can't drive the van. My stomach is too big and my legs too short. I'm braking with my toe which is bad because my feet are so stiff I have a delayed reaction.<br />
<br />
The house is a wreck. The crib is not yet assembled. And I am awfully, sinfully, horribly jealous of my SAHM friends. I know being a SAHM is no walk in the park; there are days of messes, headaches, no lunch, no coffee, and nary a pee break or shower. At least at work I can pee by myself and finish a meal (most days) or a cup of coffee.<br />
<br />
But those damn mommy blogs are killing me. I want to be the top textile designer pregnant with a seventh kid, in a rambling but cozy house, and spending my days in a well-lit studio embroidering. I want to have wonderful glowing photos of a chubby quiet baby looking outside at a snow drift while mom has her cozy knitting and cup of tea. I want the kid's room to have actual curtains and homemade blankets and storybook sketches on the wall.<br />
<br />
I want to be home in my nest and it isn't happening.<br />
<br />
Work is killing me. I hate hate hate my job. I've hated it for a long long long time. I do enjoy my actual work task (Interlibrary Loan) but GOD Almighty the meetings and emails and stats and documentation and gossip and laziness and chatter are too much to bear. My days stretch out filled with dullness and stupidity and frankly if I have to deal with whining and temper tantrums I'd rather it come from my 2 year old rather than a 45 year old with a Master's degree. Don't even get me started on the inefficiency and rule breaking going on with my coworkers.<br />
<br />
Basically I work 40 hours a week AND I try to cram in the cooking and baking and mothering. WTF? <br />
<br />
I need to make tons of dinners for the freezer and most of them dairy free. Which means I need to figure out the bills to have the money to make the food. Which means I need to look at my scheduling to check the bills and make a menu and then a list and then go shopping and then cook everything and then freeze everything so I'll need a day for shopping and prepping and a full day of cooking and there goes my weekend.<br />
<br />
And I still need to buy more underwear and a few baby things and figure out and buy a baby carrier. Oh, and I haven't done all the knitting and sewing I'd like to do. <br />
<br />
And time is slipping by and my children and growing and my house is a mess and I'm at that stupid desk every stupid day and dealing with idiots. And I'm impatient with my children and it hurts me to think I'm not slowing down and drinking in this life because there is so little time and so much to do.<br />
<br />
I'm just tired and overwhelmed and lonely. Sam is working a lot and doing all he can but I really wish I was in some hippie dippy community with a doula who would help with cooking and cleaning or play with the kids so I can sleep or help me choose yarn colors to make a beautiful blanket for Persy. And she would tell me that I'm not a spoiled brat and that these tears are natural and instinctual and I should drink some red raspberry leaf tea and listen to the river and breathe deeply and enjoy my ability to have children and enjoy my children and husband and wee owl-besotted home.<br />
<br />
Since that isn't an option I'm going to opt for a very long, hot shower, a good cry, a cup of cocoa and a Wilkie Collins novel. <br />
<br />
Thanks for listening. Feel free to pour on the encouragement because I could use some right now. <br />
<br />
Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298495631546915310.post-45093772507841066522013-01-13T21:36:00.002-05:002013-01-13T21:36:30.606-05:00The Trollope Project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.peoplequiz.com/images/bios/Anthony-trollope.j-5625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.peoplequiz.com/images/bios/Anthony-trollope.j-5625.jpg" width="296" /></a></div>
The other day I mentioned my new endeavor of reading 50+ books by or about Anthony Trollope over the next ten years. I feel a bit nutty taking on such a longer term project; prior to this my longest reading project is the Classics Club and that is a five year project.<br />
<br />
The Trollope Project will run from 01/01/2013 to 01/01/23. By that time Hope will be near graduating college, Atticus will be a teenager, and Persy Jane will be nearly out of elementary school.<br />
<br />
(pause for brief parental shock)<br />
<br />
I think stretching this out over 10 years is a wise decision. I don't think I will actually read more than 5 Trollope books a year. I don't want to get bored with his voice or characters or have it become a chore.<br />
<br />
I've selected a list of books based on availability and interest. I may sub in other books, but I at least wanted a nice baseline post for this new project. I think I may be visiting <a href="http://www.anthonytrollope.com/">this site</a> quite often. This project is exciting! For the life of me I don't know why I've never read a Trollope novel; all the other major Victorians are under my belt to some degree, but I am a Trollope virgin. Wish me luck!<br />
<br />
<b>The Chronicles of Barsetshire</b><br />
<ul>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Warden">The Warden</a></i> (1855)</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Barchester Towers">Barchester Towers</a></i> (1857)</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Doctor Thorne">Doctor Thorne</a></i> (1858)</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Framley Parsonage">Framley Parsonage</a></i> (1861)</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Small House at Allington">The Small House at Allington</a></i> (1864)</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Last Chronicle of Barset">The Last Chronicle of Barset</a></i> (1867)</li>
</ul>
<b>Palliser Novels</b><br />
<ul>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Can You Forgive Her?">Can You Forgive Her?</a></i> (1865)</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Phineas Finn">Phineas Finn</a></i> (1869)</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Eustace Diamonds">The Eustace Diamonds</a></i> (1873)</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Phineas Redux">Phineas Redux</a></i> (1874)</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Prime Minister (novel)">The Prime Minister</a></i> (1876)</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Duke's Children">The Duke's Children</a></i> (1880)</li>
</ul>
<b>Other<span style="background-color: white;"> Novels</span></b><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Macdermots of Ballycloran">The Macdermots of Ballycloran</a></i> (1847)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Kellys and the O'Kellys">The Kellys and the O'Kellys</a></i> (1848)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="La Vendée: An Historical Romance (page does not exist)">La Vendée: An Historical Romance</a></i> (1850)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Three Clerks">The Three Clerks</a></i> (1858)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Bertrams (page does not exist)">The Bertrams</a></i> (1859)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Castle Richmond">Castle Richmond</a></i> (1860)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Orley Farm (novel)">Orley Farm</a></i> (1862)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Struggles of Brown, Jones & Robinson (page does not exist)">The Struggles of Brown, Jones & Robinson</a></i> (1862)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Rachel Ray (novel)">Rachel Ray</a></i> (1863)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Miss Mackenzie (page does not exist)">Miss Mackenzie</a></i> (1865)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Belton Estate">The Belton Estate</a></i> (1866)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Claverings">The Claverings</a></i> (1867)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Nina Balatka (page does not exist)">Nina Balatka</a></i> (1867)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Linda Tressel (page does not exist)">Linda Tressel</a></i> (1868)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="He Knew He Was Right">He Knew He Was Right</a></i> (1869)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Vicar of Bullhampton">The Vicar of Bullhampton</a></i> (1870)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Sir Harry Hotspur of Humblethwaite">Sir Harry Hotspur of Humblethwaite</a></i> (1871)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Ralph the Heir">Ralph the Heir</a></i> (1871)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Golden Lion of Granpère (page does not exist)">The Golden Lion of Granpère</a></i> (1872)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Harry Heathcote of Gangoil (page does not exist)">Harry Heathcote of Gangoil</a></i> (1874)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Lady Anna (novel)">Lady Anna</a></i> (1874)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Way We Live Now">The Way We Live Now</a></i> (1875)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The American Senator">The American Senator</a></i> (1877)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Is He Popenjoy? (page does not exist)">Is He Popenjoy?</a></i> (1878)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="John Caldigate (page does not exist)">John Caldigate</a></i> (1879)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="An Eye for an Eye (novel)">An Eye for an Eye</a></i> (1879)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Cousin Henry">Cousin Henry</a></i> (1879)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Ayala's Angel">Ayala's Angel</a></i> (1881)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Doctor Wortle's School">Doctor Wortle's School</a></i> (1881)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Fixed Period">The Fixed Period</a></i> (1882)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Kept in the Dark">Kept in the Dark</a></i> (1882)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Marion Fay (page does not exist)">Marion Fay</a></i> (1882)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="Mr. Scarborough's Family (page does not exist)">Mr. Scarborough's Family</a></i> (1883)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="The Landleaguers (page does not exist)">The Landleaguers</a></i> (1883)</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a class="new" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3298495631546915310" title="An Old Man's Love (page does not exist)">An Old Man's Love</a></i> (1884) </span></li>
</ul>
<b>Other:</b><br />
<ul>
<li><i>An Autobiography</i></li>
<li><i>Early Short Stories</i></li>
<li><i>Later Short Stories</i></li>
<li><i>The Letters of Anthony Trollope</i></li>
<li><i>Anthony Trollope </i>by Victoria Glendinnin<b>g </b></li>
</ul>
Amanda Roperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10285981792704101992noreply@blogger.com0