Thursday, January 27, 2011

A Little Jane

I seem to be on a Bronte kick. It all started when someone recommended the book Jane by April Linder to me. I read it rather quickly. I liked it fairly well. It is classified as a young adult fiction, I think, but I'd rate it as a pg 13. I don't think I'd let my young teen daughter read it, but for an adult book, it's pretty clean.

After I finished that book it dawned on me that, while I've seen several movie adaptations, I've never actually read the classic! So I hopped my happy little self on down to the library and got the original Jane Eyre. Um, WOW. How did I make it to the ripe old age of 29 (shut up), having never read Jane Eyre? Well, of course, now that I've read the book, I need to watch the movie again to see how it compares.

I found this version it Costco and snapped it up. Honestly, it's my favorite version. I think Ciaran Hinds makes the best Mr. Rochester. But, well, Masterpiece Theater did make a newer version recently so of course I had to request that from my library. That guy is way too young and handsome to be Mr. Rochester, but overall it's nicely done.

Then someone told me about this book, Romancing Miss Bronte! That is now next on my 'to be read' list.

I have 5 million other things to be doing. This is not the best time for my little foray into the Bronte sisters. Yet here I am!

I will leave you with this, my favorite quote from Jane Eyre...

Laws and principals are not for the times where there is no temptation: they are for moments such as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigor; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be. If at my individual convenience I might break them, what would be their worth? They have a worth- so I have always believed; and if I cannot believe it now it is because I am insane-quite insane: with my veins running fire, and my heart beating faster than I can count its throbs. Preconceived opinions, forgone determinations, are all I have at this hour to stand by: there I plant my foot.

I think Charlotte Bronte could teach us all a thing or two.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011


So, can you stand one more ‘woe is me, my children are growing up’ post? No. Okay, I promise, I’ll keep it light.

Bryce started EMT/Fire Academy yesterday. By the end of May he’ll be completely certified and ready to hire on to a department. Which is weird because he’s only 5. He’s still just a cute little blond thing wearing Osh Kosh overalls and playing on a fire engine…

Sigh, I guess that was a while ago.

Gunnar is swift on his heels. His classes at the community college started today and the minute he turns 18, he’ll be at the EMT/Fire Academy as well.

This is a fun and exciting stage for a momma to watch. It’s hard and bittersweet to watch your babies grow up, but it’s also exciting. They both stand there with their feet on the edge, their wings fully outstretched, their bodies teetering, any minute now they’ll sail off from my nest. I can’t go with them, I can only watch. Do momma birds get to yell directions from the nest? I shall have to research this.

I couldn’t be prouder of my boys. Really. I suppose if they have to grow up into men, they are at least doing a good job of it. I hear all the time of their hard work, their willingness to help, their kindness to others, and occasionally their inclination to do donuts in the church parking lot late at night. But we’ll forgive that last part.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Finding Joy

I am weary of being frugal. I am weary of being cautious. I am weary of being sensible. I am weary of hearing ‘wait’ and ‘not yet’ and ‘maybe, someday’. I want my someday now.

Is that selfishness speaking? Possibly. Probably.

I don’t feel my motives are selfish, or not wholly so anyway.

And yet things don’t change. Things never change.

I can try. I can push. I can endeavor to make something happen under my own power. But that never ends well.

So I wait, and I watch, and I see others prosper and I try not to grow too discouraged.

Then I feel guilty because so many have it so much worse than I do. And yet I whine about my misfortune. Ungrateful wretch that I am, I want more.

It’s ironic that the word I chose for 2011 (Or should I say, chose me?) is Joy. I don’t feel joyful. It is beginning to dawn on my dim mind, that joy is not a feeling, or not always. Joy is a choice, and one often made in spite of feelings.

I have a lot to learn this year.